#we just really like making characters with fiery hair
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crystallizedday · 1 year ago
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So
Ya know how I mentioned in my previous post that I made this Samurai Jack oc based on a character I saw in a dream?
Well
It happened again.
Kind of.
It was Demongo himself with two heads, but I felt like making a different design entirely with that concept.
& then my hubby @aceofcards0715 wanted to join in on the fun & made his own, gifting me his bby to have since he didn’t know what to do with her.
So now I have 3 fire bbies
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Since I originally made Boron Demongo’s “brother” (which… I mean, I like to think he was just created under similar environmental circumstances, saw Demmy, & went “you’re my brother now! We’re having soft tacos later!”), I guess uh
I guess I’m just starting a new trend of creating Demongo siblings…
It’s like the fuckin “Demongo children craze” of old & im kinda vibing with it IWNWKWMWOSMSODKWODM
Uh
If any of y’all feel like making your own
Pop off! I’d love to see em!
I used this chart for the names & colors & shit, so if ya wanna go by this thing, go right ahead!
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seventh-district · 1 year ago
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tag limit my beloathed... continuing my analysis of my potentially Sun x Moon coded ships here ↓
#Seven.txt#tag limit can't stop me cause i'll just make another post#anything to avoid having to put all my thoughts in the body of a post. too scary.#i like the illusion of speaking softly in privacy that talking in the tags provides me#anyways where were we#when i say Sun x Moon coded i'm not referring to Sun & Moon the FNaF characters. although they are definitely a prime & on the nose example#i just mean.. light & dark. upbeat & downbeat. loud & quiet. opposites. y'know? you know.#they don't even have to be blonde hair x black hair honestly. although that def helps. just personality can be enough#like. okay. i'm thinking about Jesus and Daryl. from TWD. don't laugh at me. hey. listen.#i think they could count on personality alone. like yeah visually theyre both. Brown. but Jesus is so chaotic and sunny!#at least compared to Daryl.. and i mean if u wanna get problematic with it you could replace Jesus with Beth but. eeeeeeh#i don't really ship them? they were definitely Something and S4EP12 is my favorite for a Reason but its not bc i ship them#not sexually at least. it's hard to ship Daryl with anyone sexually. for me. but i don't think it's romantic either#they're some secret third thing. whatever it is i think it's got a Sun x Moon dynamic nonetheless! okay uhhh who else...#not Shigaraki and Dabi popping up in my head.. the hell. i'm really scraping the bottom of the ship barrel now#neither of them are Sun coded in the slightest. where did that thought come from. anyways uhhh... OH#what about Karlach and Astarion!? ohhhh yeah yeah yeah i think she's Sun-coded in a fiery sense. and he's def Moon-coded#in spite of the white hair lmao. ohhh and the way he misses being in the sun??? do u see where im going with this. do u see my vision#okay who else. Dew and Rain??? fire and water... i think they could fit. but Dew being Sunny in the more fiery sense like Karlach#if i wanted to get real self-indulgent i could talk about Venti and Saoirse. they're deeefinetly Sun and Moon coded. which tracks lmao#of course my most dearly beloved permanent and personal ship is Sun & Moon coded. of course it is. Saoirse is just as Moon-coded as i am#obviously. even more actually cause they look the way i Want to look. and then Venti is def Sun-coded when we look at the mask he wears#which he hardly ever drops. so. it's almost permanent he's so committed to the bit. when he does drop it he's... hm. hmm.#he's too complex to fit it in these tags lmao. i best stop before i make myself wanna pick Heaven In Hiding back up#to circle back around to the podcast that started it all i suppose i'd be remiss not to mention Martin and Jon#they're very Sun & Moon methinks. at least the version of them that i've gathered from S1 and fanart/posts/spoilers#but doesn't Martin get... sucked into the Lonely or smthn. ohohoho perhaps the Sunny thing is just a front. like Venti! hm#many thoughts. head full of ships rn. but alas i'm hungry and running out of tags again so i'm gonna stop here#thanks for coming to my TED talk on Sun & Moon coded ships. i hope u learned as much about me as i've learned abt myself tonight#gonna go post the next chapter of AEIWNF. make food. and uhhh... rotate Gerry in my mind some more lets be honest here
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matsunoluvr · 11 months ago
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୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how I think the boys from love and deepspace would give a first kiss :3
warnings: suggestive content (obviously?), writing might be out of character, spoilers in general, i get carried away explaining everything because i'm afraid of being accused of mischaracterisation
[story spoiler] first kiss = first kiss where mc is a hunter/the timeline in game
authors notes: i have favourites and it will show CLEARLY in my writing… sorry (not sorry no1 rafayel stan) and i am a yapper
characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus
link to my master list here!!
more below the cut :3
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sorry rafayel... but i feel like he's the most unskilled at kisses because - hear me out - you're his very first kiss. lemurians as a species seem to value bonds and loyalty, and as the literal sea god he wasn't able to nor wanted to just hook up or mess around - he's looking for devotion!!!
(okay, we ignore the kiss in forgotten sea myth story because like come on there was literally no romance mc was drowning)
definitely waits a while before kissing you, rayafel really takes his time to fall into place. after all, he needs to make sure his beloved bride/groom is well and truly his!!!
the type to wait for the ‘right moment’ - but doesn’t force or stage it ykwim? like the time comes naturally - e.g. watching the sunset, or you’re leaning close to him whilst he’s painting
he’s a romantic 100% like there’s a reason his 'floral promise' card was (imo) way fluffier compared to the others - like xavier's was tender-ish but rafayel was fucking melting
he's a sweet talker I just know it.
that charm he uses on his clients? he doesn't want to nor will he manipulate you with it but you know he's going to ramp up the charm to tease you a little
definitely knows his effect on you and uses it to his full advantage (cough cough fiery undercurrents secret times) like whispering in your ear, making excuses to touch you or get close to you
(i think he’d be more 'traditional' because of lemurian customs - the whole bonding + [forgotten sea spoilers] the sea god ceremony where the mc must devote themselves to rafayel displaying a strong level of devotion)
SUCH A GENTLE KISSER OMG like compared to his almost bratty and childish personality he’s a gentleman when it comes to kisses (also because he's kind of unsure what to do...)
the type to tuck strand of your hair behind your ear, fiddle with it a little maybe twirl it around his finger before trailing a finger along your jawline... i can see him like massaging your ear too? idk how to describe it he's a handsy man
first kiss was definitely more sweet than passionate ugawhriulgs he's such a cutie
right after the first kiss i think he’d be pretty affectionate, rather than bratty/tsundere since for him to kiss someone i believe he’d really need to love them (and therefore is more open to being vulnerable)
affectionate as in saying something cheesy probably, commenting on how you tasted or another one of his poetic, artistic quotes (dw raf we love it)
wouldn't be satisfied with just one after that, i can see him going in for a more passionate second and even a third (i mean look at his 'floral promise' memory OR 'fiery undercurrents') in the same few minutes
these follow up kisses would probably be longer and way less chaste, hands moving from tilting your chin up to your waist ahahahahahuwfa
you'd have to show him the appeal of tongue if that's your thing because he's seen it before but never really saw what was nice about it
"But... you're just drinking each other's saliva?" "Rafayel that's hot-"
definitely relived the moment in his head hundreds of times after that night - and you bet your ass he painted a piece inspired from your first kiss with him
any kisses after that i feel like they would follow this default pattern;
if he initiated the kiss i think he’d be more cocky and teasing, especially if he surprised you with one and he sees your flustered face
“Didn’t expect that huh, cutie?”
if you surprised him, however, get ready for typical rafayel childish behaviour, blushing and averting his eyes, covering his mouth with the back of his hand and a pout
“Hey- what was that for!!” Σ(・□・;)
either way rafayel is the worlds silliest man and would cave into literally anything with just a few kisses from you
ALSO KISS HIS COLLAR BONES AND YOU'VE GOT A WHOLE NEW SCENARIO TO UNFOLD
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oh i just have a feeling this man is devouring you because puh-LEASEE?? sir we aren't forgetting your 'tender night' card i know that night was anything but tender
xavier is the definition of pent-up desire because this man has been waiting a LONG time and he's not going to be able to hold back very well
(taking heavy inspiration from his '21 days' memory because with his reaction it kind of feels like his first kiss with mc... but tbh i don't know much about xavi)
he's definitely not shy when it comes down to it, yeah he gets flustered if he thinks about it because of course imagining kissing the person he's pined over for centuries is going to fluster the shit out of him but he doesn't shy away form the idea or avoid the topic in conversation
i feel like he'd bring it up casually - like in the 'partner go go' event (aka heartbreaker-chasing-rhythm-game event) he was so insistent on the 'kissing page'
mc was like "apparently you can solve arguments with a kiss" and this mf straight up said "we can argue then" this man is STARVED
i feel like you'd need to initiate the kiss or give him very clear signs you'd be okay with a kiss for it to happen, i don't know why i just feel like he's that type of person
the first kiss is deep despite him trying his best to hold back - you can just feel his desire and longing oozing out of him and he's definitely on fucking cloud nine
xavier's holding your face and stroking his thumb along your cheek and god damn he's good at kissing where the fuck did he learn this from?
the type to break the kiss and then fucking bulldoze into the next one and my god his restraints have broken and he's actually kissing you as if it's the last thing he's able to do on earth
100% a tongue user he's biting at your bottom lip before slipping it in the sly minx
after the kiss he's more flustered than he expected to be - kissing the love of his life (literally) sends him into a flurry of emotions he's never really experienced before
given how possessive xavier is i wouldn't be surprised if halfway through making out he managed to leave a hickey or two in very. visible. places.
he isn't even pretending to feel guilty in the slightest, a smug grin as he shrugs out a half-assed apology.
"Sorry, I guess you'll have to try hide it. Or don't, that would be easier."
if you leave any marks on him he's not leaving you along that night. forget sleeping you two are recreating 'tender night' ALL night.
but seriously, if you leave hickeys over his neck (his canonical sensitive area and where he feels vulnerable) he's going to go crazy because what do you mean you want everyone to know he's yours??? what do you mean you want him as much as he wants you??
tldr; xavier is unusually talented with his mouth and is desperate to prove it to you.
i accidentally wrote way more for xavier than i expected i even cut out some bits holy crap maybe i’m more into xavi than i thought
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oh no... zayne you beautiful man i am so sorry... (here comes the one character i have no idea how to characterise + no clue about his lore zayne fans pls bear with me)
okay - zayne looks like a gentleman and i'm sure he very much is even in intimate moments, but i cannot get rid of the idea that his first kiss w you was lowk spicyyyyy
like OH MY GOD I JUST WATCHED SNOWY SERENITY RN I FUCKIGN KNEW IT
that man was pouncing on you in a hospital bed, dishevelled, and kissing you deep my god like the type of kiss that literally as you forgetting where you are
i feel like zayne would be the one to initiate the kiss, again no idea why maybe i'm falling into the dominant zayne agenda
you're probably surprised when he kisses you because he's usually so composed, the 'cold unfeeling' dr zayne - then suddenly he's panting and pushing himself on top of you (consensually of course), pinning you down and going to town.
when he kisses you i don't think he's much of a lip biter, but if you bite his lips or lick at him or anything he's not opposed, as long as your lips are on his and vice versa
after the first kiss he's going straight into another one, his patience has thinned to the point of snapping and now he just needs you.
his hands what does he do with his hands? i'm thinking the typical otome face hold, gentle grasp juxtaposing his fervent kisses LOL
now, why does he kiss you?? how does this all build up? unfortunately all i can think of to match this scenario is something angsty or something along the lines of zayne has fucking had it and all he wants is you
"I need you... please."
this is the type of kiss where he wants to drown in you, breathe you in and just smother his being into yours to forget and erase whatever else is happening/happened
if he's kissing you and pinning you down and you bring up your hand to interlock fingers with him - your warm hands against his cool hands? wow his kissing is all of a sudden even more passionate.
after the little make out session he's going to go all mushy on you, physical affection of an embrace something uncharacteristic of him to match his dishevelled state
in kisses after the first i like the idea that he checks your pulse mid make-out and just silently smirks/chuckles when he notices it's faster and more erratic than usual
"Why are you nervous, this isn't our first time."
he also has this sneaky habit of whispering incredibly close to your ear, the reason why i choose to point this out it because i feel like sometimes he uses his evol to his advantage to like, breathe out cool air on your neck/ear and likes to watch you shiver
the ultimate dominant figure if you try to kiss him first and take control he somehow manages to overcome you and take the lead without using his strength, just good ol' sweet talking and technique
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congratulations, you managed to snatch a kiss from the renown leader sylus!!!
i can see why people would think he's promiscuous or a fuck-boy because honestly i see it, but imo just because he is more flirtatious, assertive and... responsive (try tapping his... crotch... in the café LOL) does NOT = play boy
to me it just shows that - unlike the other LIs - sylus is just more forward with his approach, he has that devil-may-care like feel to him ykwim?
"Do I like you? What type of question is that, isn't it obvious? Or do I need to show you?" is much different to "Hey baby girl lemme rock your world tnite xx"
but just because he's got a 'fuck-all' attitude doesn't mean he fucks around with random people, he's 1. got standards and 2. living in the n109 zone?? do you THINK he can afford to let random people close just to fuck???
that being said i don't think he's a kiss virgin, just very selective and honest man when it comes to love and physical intimacy
now, when i say he isn't a fuckboy, that doesn't mean i don't believe in cocky-smugass-know-it-all sylus - he kisses well. and with PASSION. and probably the worst part is that he knows it.
first kiss with sylus? i can't imagine him making a large fuss about it like rafayel, nor it having to be some "i'm-at-deaths-door-and-need-to-kiss-you-atleast-once" situation like zayne, but no matter where or when you two share a first kiss he is making sure you remember
that being said, there was definitely a LOT of romantic and sexual tension between you and sylus for at least weeks before the kiss, i mean the air was thick with suggestive glances and denial
i think you two'd have to already be in close proximity which is very easy to achieve with sylus (touchiest man award goes to him) for the first kiss to initiate
he's grabbing your waist, or your face, makings sure your eyes are on. him. as you two kiss. watching with delight no matter what reactions you have, he admires you through surprised and flustered to confident and defiant
rather than a tender first kiss it’s probably a full blown make out session, just desire and lust flooding out of the both of you after having built up for over a month.
assertive does not mean he's going to force a kiss on you to clear this up, more that he likes to take the initiative and take control as you two kiss <3
yeah he's into biting (wow what a big shock) - likes biting your ear, or neck, or bottom lip, one time he tried nipping at your tongue too.
you can bite him back, he likes it.
"Hah, looks like someone is baring their claws tonight..." he’s really into that whole cat thing huh.
what does mr sylus do with his hands? waist, hips, ass, around your neck, pulling your face in by squeezing your cheeks, fingers threading through the hair on the back of your head, you name it he does it. again, i think sylus is a touchy man.
he doesn't mind if you try to take control, just dont expect to be successful. different to zayne - as in he will overcome your control with his evol and strength…
inappropriate use of his evol has occurred (he ‘tied’ you up and made out with you (CONSENSUALLY))
after his affinity 15 (i think) memory i can just tell he’s freaky with it bruhhh so yeah handcuffs are probably something he indulges in
if you’re persistent or physically overcome sylus you might get rewarded with a resigned, more submissive sylus
the idea or sight of someone man handling/overcoming his strength really sets him off.. i mean have you seen “no defence zone”?? but you’re really going to need to work to get him to this stage, and he’s going to have to love you
“No one’s ever seen me like this, lying on my back and begging for you.”
secretly finds out through you that he enjoys being dominated (BRAT SYLUS FOR 2024) so climb on top of him and kiss him until he’s blushing and panting hahahahahaha
tldr: sylus isn’t a fuck-boy but he sure kisses like one
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AN; as an ao3 writer may say, no beta we die like caleb i wrote half of this when i was half asleep LMAOO anyways i hope this was okay please dont attack me BYE
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n0cturnalflesh · 7 months ago
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The One Where Sylus Turns Into A Wanderer
Synopsis: Sylus gets hit with an attack that not only turns him into a wanderer but also makes him really horny??? Oh nooo what will you do? (wink wink nudge nudge)
Characters: Sylus x Reader
tw: Dragon Sylus, smut, p in v, breeding kink, praise, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, oral, tentacles
wc: 8.3 k
A/N: I'm a BIG fan of the theory(is it confirmed?) that Sylus is/was a wanderer at one point but I wanna see more content of him looking kinda scary. Love the idea of Sylus with cute horns and a tail but I'm thinking more like the wanderers we fight in deepspace trials - big, scaly monsters that barely look human. (I’m not not even a Sylus main lol sorry Zayne but duty calls)
“It recovered. Be careful.” Sylus charges forward, his evol twisting the wyrmlord wanderer and redirecting its fiery assault just out of the way from hitting you. 
“I know, I know.” Your voice comes out hoarse, throat parched from the hour-long battle against a horde of mechanically enhanced Wanderers—an unwelcome gift from one of Sylus’ enemies. It wasn’t anything the two of you couldn't handle, but their durability in the field was at least 4 times that of regular wanderers. This was an endurance test.
“This better be the last one.” You grumble, Harrier 700s aimed at its maws as you dump Evol-enhanced bullets into its rocky flesh.
“It is.” Sylus warps to its side, taking a vicious hit before striking back just as hard. “Look at the fluctuations around it, they’re weakening. Anything that might come after this will likely be too weak to stand. This is their last card.”
It’s true, now that you take a closer look; the translucent shimmer that had been protecting every wanderer before this is now no more than a simple sparkle. Cocking your gun in your hand, you level the barrel to its heart, giving a brief glance to Sylus. 
“Let’s finish this.”
Blood-red swirls of energy coil around your hands, leaving little tingles on your knuckles as the cold mist kisses your knuckles. With each shot fired, a shard of energy follows the bullet, driving it deeper into the Wrmylord. Sylus stays close to the beast, striking each bullet wound as his evol amplifies the force of your resonate-enhanced attacks. A powerful gust from its panicked wings nearly knocks you off balance, but you hold firm, standing against the wind. Your hair slaps across your face, nearly covering your vision but the red energy around your hands helps keep your aim. It’s almost dead— it has to be.
With each bullet, the wanderer staggers; each punch leaving it closer to the ground in defeat until the final shimmer of its enhanced defense shatters.
“Now!” You yell as you close in the distance, running until you’re side by side with Sylus. His evol energy swirls begin to coil stronger, wrapping around your entire body before channeling directly into your gun. With the dragon in your sights, gun up and facing its weakened body, you pull the trigger. At the same moment, Sylus charges forward, winding up his final strike and landing a crushing blow where your bullet landed.
The wyrmlord lets out a final, piercing scream before collapsing to the ground. 
“Damn, I don’t want to see another wanderer for at least a month. Maybe more. Thoughts on a mini vacation Sylus?” You ask, wiping off your gun as you place it back in its holster on your waist.
A few seconds of silence go by. With no response from Sylus, you glance up from your holster just as it all goes wrong. A vibration on your wrist draws your attention, red letters glowing above your watch that read “Extreme Fluctuation - Evacuate Vicinity Immediately”. A low grumble shakes the ground, the sound echoing through the ground and reverberating so powerfully that you feel it rumble in your chest. Before you can react, a blinding flash of energy fills your vision. 
“Fuck off!” You shake your head and reach for your gun, squinting against the brilliance but all you can make out are the wyrmlord’s glowing crooked eyes peering through the glare. 
“Get back!” Sylus’ low voice cuts through the rumbling, and in an instant he’s standing in front of you, shielding you just as the light directs into a beam and strikes his chest. The moment it hits, everything stops. The beast collapses on the ground, its limbs going limp as dust creeps up its disintegrating form until nothing remains. 
“Sylus!” Your voice breaks the silence, hands pressing against his sturdy shoulders until he turns to face you. “Are you alright?”
Despite the attack, he appears none the worse for wear, aside from tired and dirty from the battleground dust. His eyes are downcast, staring at his chest where the beam hit. 
“Yes, I’m fine kitten. Must’ve died just before the beam could hit me.”
“Are you sure?” Worry laces your voice, “I could’ve sworn I watched that weird beam hit your chest.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Your eyes must be deceiving you. You should head on home quickly, book that vacation on my card. I’ll…” he trails off, looking back to where the wyrmlord disintegrated. “Stay behind to make sure no other wanderers come.”
Sylus’ eyes narrow as he looks around, his tone low and calculated. He shifts from foot to foot, unusually stiff as you notice the way he draws his shoulders in stiffly. 
“Sylus?”
He bows his head down, turning to face away from you. 
“Sylus, that beam did something to you didn’t it?”
An audible sigh escapes him, his breath slow yet his upper torso rises rapidly like its breathing entirely separate from his breaths. 
“It… did. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t you worry about me. Just leave me to deal with this on my own, you should go rest.”
He stands awkwardly, posture just a bit too stiff - like he doesn’t quite know how to hold his limbs. You lean towards him, eye glancing over his body to check for hidden injuries or changes. There has to be something, he wouldn’t be sending you off so easily if there wasn’t. 
“Sylus, I’m not just going to leave because you said so. I’m a top hunter, why don’t you think I can help you?” You take a step forward, hoping for a closer inspection but he takes a step back as you do, keeping his face turned away.
“Excuse me?” Betrayal strikes you; how dare he go through months of coaxing and bonding just to leave you when he finally needs help for once? “Look at me.” You speak firmly, snatching his wrist so he can’t flee.
His body tenses at your touch, a quiet gasp escaping his lips. He could pull away if he wanted, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t move at all. He’s frozen still, his gaze fixed on the ground. You slide your hand down until you can squeeze his fingers; they feel unusually cold at the tips yet hot toward his palm.
Following the heat of his palm, your fingers trace back up his wrist, gliding along his forearm until they reach the edge of his sleeve. A wave of warmth pulses beneath his skin, following his veins, though the surface remains cold to the touch. 
“Kitten,” His voice draws out low and raspy, leveled like he’s holding his composure just to talk. “Please, let me deal with this on my own. You don’t need to see this.”
Testing the waters, you caress over his chest and up until you hold his chin in your palm. He resists only for a moment as you tilt his head until his vibrant, glowing red eyes face you, laced with evol.
With brows drawn and tense, he shutters under your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he nuzzles deeper into your palm. For a moment, he seeks comfort there, but he pulls away sharply as if your touch suddenly stings. His eyes reek of evol, the glowing red so bright that it becomes hard to see his pupils. Yet the sensation of his evol never comes. You don’t feel that deep pull from within; don’t hear the voices of your deepest desires. 
“Whatever that wanderer did to you, I won’t let you suffer alone. We’re in this together.”
He stares back, almost animalistic in nature, like he’s calculating how to react to your next move. His drastic change in personality becomes increasingly unsettling.
“Why are your eyes glowing like that? I don’t feel your evol.” You question, hoping a direct question might be an easier approach.
It seems to work, his gaze refocusing on you as he blinks a few times.
“It is…” he lowers his head, avoiding eye contact as he speaks, “returning me to a form I had hoped you’d never see in this lifetime.” Running a hand through his hair, he tilts his head up to look at the night sky, worries etched onto his face. The light of the moon shines on his pale skin and you can see a sheen layer of sweat on his forehead as he pushes his hair back.
“What does that mean?” Hundreds of questions pop into your head but that’s the one that comes out first before you can even think harder about what he said. A form? Form of what?
Sylus hums, voice uneven and hoarse as he keeps his head turned towards the stars. “Some time ago, which does not matter when, I was something else. Not… entirely as I am today.” He keeps his head tilted but lowers his glowing eyes to meet yours. “I’d since been able to restrict it, but it seems as though that wanderer’s attack was able to affect it.”
You stand your ground, holding eye contact. That’s not a complete answer, and he knows that. You stare back, not moving as he awaits a reaction that you won’t give him.
“I’ve never wanted it to come to this, because I know you won’t leave my side no matter what I say.” He continues, sad gratitude flashing on his expression for a moment, “You really won’t leave me to deal with this, will you?”
He’s not making sense. His words have told you nothing of the situation or his weird behavior. But raising your voice or pressing him further might escalate his behavior. Your heart aches at the thought of whatever is going through his mind as he loses his collected mannerism. He has done so much for you these past few months; proven your opinion of him wrong from the start and treated you so well. You will not let him be alone for this, whatever it is.
“No, I won’t.” You reply firmly.
“You never do.” He sighs, before doubling over to pull his arm close to his chest, hiding the skin from your touch.
“Sylus!” You cry out, taking a step towards him but he moves away as you come close.
“No.” His tone comes out calm despite the strain in his voice, “Don’t get close, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, Sylus.” You pause, observing the way he carries his limbs in towards himself like he’s trying to make himself look small. An impossible feat for such a large man. “I know you won’t because I know you would never dare to hurt me. I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you mean by this ‘form’ you’re reverting to, but I know that if it is still you at the core, you will not hurt me.” 
It’s a lie. Sylus is a very scary man if you don’t know him well. Whatever he’s talking about clearly has him worried about hurting you, and if that’s something he’s concerned about, it absolutely gives you every reason to be alarmed. But you can’t just admit that. Not after everything he’s done for you —risking his life, taking hits meant for you, following you on pointless expeditions that far exceed the duties of the N109 Zone leader, even letting you hurt him. No, it’s your turn to take a risk for him. Prove to him that you trust him wholeheartedly.
Assuming a (hopefully) confident-looking stance, you hold eye contact with him and take a step forward, leaving no room for debate as you press into his personal space. He gasps at your touch, eyes glued to where your hand grabs at his arm. 
“Please,” He grunts, “be careful. I don’t want to hurt you. Not…” His voice trails off just as you make contact with his skin. But it’s not skin. It's hard, rocky almost in texture but still molds to your touch as you squeeze it. 
Not ready to look down, you raise your other hand up and cradle his cheek. “It’s okay.” Your voice comes out as a hushed whisper, and finally, you look down.
His arm below the elbow and hand are not human. The skin is jagged, flesh turned black and grey while red light seeps out from the lines of his veins. His fingers are longer than they should be, joints extended and bony as they lead to talons at the tips. These are the hands of a wanderer.
“Sylus, your form? A wanderer?” The look of raw insecurity in his eyes stops you from questioning. With his brows knitted and eyes glistening, his lips tremble slightly, parted as if struggling to form words. His chest rises and falls with shallow, uneven breaths. He looks like he’s seconds away from breaking down.
“So you’ve figured it out, Miss Hunter.” He speaks, emphasizing the nickname like he’s pointing out how your job is sworn to killing monsters like him. He’s spiraling, slight tension tugging through his body like he wants to break away from you but doesn’t want you to leave him at the same time. You need to show him that you’ll remain ever at his side.
“This doesn’t change my statement, I won’t let you go about this alone.”
He lets out a small laugh, although there’s no humor or joy behind it. “I appreciate your help, but you don’t deserve to have to be exposed to this side of me. You've seen enough wanderers to last you at least 5 missions in the last few hours alone. You said it yourself, you need a vacation away from us horrid monsters.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“Because that wasn't you! You’re not just some beast that runs wild! Regardless of your form, there’s a ‘you’ deep inside. If you lose control, I’ll be here to make sure you don’t get caught. If anyone finds you, I’ll make sure they don't hurt you.”
“And if I hurt you?”
“You won’t.” Staring into his glowing eyes, you stand your ground. He needs to know this is a hill you’re willing to die on. “Listen, I don’t understand any of what’s going on, and you will explain everything to me when the time is right. But please, just shut up and let me be here for you.”
His jaw tightens before relaxing into a sigh. You run your fingers up and down his hardened palm, hoping to reassure him that this change does not change how you view him. 
“If you won’t leave me, you should at least distance yourself from me. At least for the time being. I don’t if the attack has altered my state of mind.”
“Alright.” You give his hand a light squeeze, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles before turning to retreat to a nearby tree. Only he doesn't let you. As you turn to leave, rough talons grasp onto your wrist. He pulls you close to him, your back pressing up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your waist. They feel… different. 
The rough, rocky texture has continued up his forearms. He’s hidden from your line of view, only his arms visible as they wrap your torso. 
“Sylus?”  Your voice trembles with uncertainty, but the only response is a low, guttural growl from behind you. In the stillness that follows, you notice the next sudden change; he’s growing. His hands, already massive compared to yours, now seem to dwarf you entirely.  As he splays his left hand across your abdomen, his claws extend effortlessly to the back of your torso. His palm alone envelops your entire stomach.
The sharp rip of fabric echoes from somewhere along his back, followed by the rush of warm, heavy breaths against your neck—slowly, far too slow for any human. Wrapping your fingers around just one of his now enormous claws, you strain to fully grip it, prying his hand away with deliberate caution.
“I’m going to turn around now. And then you can tell me if you still want me to distance myself, okay?”
He doesn't answer, but he also doesn’t stop you from pulling out of his grasp. Gently, you free yourself from his hold. Drawing a deep breath, you prepare for what awaits. If he truly is a wanderer, is this his true form?
As you turn, there’s a deep, resounding thud—Sylus stepping back, perhaps anxious for you to see him like this. Finally, in the pregnant silence, you open your eyes.
He’s… gigantic. Towering close to nine feet tall, his presence is overwhelming. At first glance, not much seems to have changed—his face, his torso, still familiar; aside from the darkened, rocky skin leading from his hands and now his feet upwards. Through the tears of clothing struggling to hang off his growing body,  the skin beneath remains a softer hue, though roughened, textured like stone.
Your gaze travels upward, from his exposed chest, straining beneath shredded buttons, to his face. Aside from the glowing red eyes and his change in size, the only new and noticeable changes are the two massive horns shooting out from behind his ears. —black as night, laced with swirling red energy tapering into sharp white tips. They curl around his face gracefully, flaring outward before narrowing into points that end near his chin. For such a beastly figure to cower, avoiding your eyes, almost elicits a strange tenderness—were it not for the seriousness of the moment. 
“I’m not afraid of you.” You murmur, stepping closer and offering your hand. He doesn't take it, but he doesn’t pull away, allowing the space between you to close.
When he speaks, his voice is even deeper than normal, rasping out hollow as though unused to forming words in this form. “I’m holding back... slowing the transformation.” His eyes shut, pained. “But the attack... it may have triggered some... side effects.”
He kneels down until he’s level with you, large eyes roaming over you like he needs to memorize your body. “I wanted this to be different. You deserve better—dinner, gifts, a proper evening to show you how much I—”
“Stop deciding for me.” You cut him off. “You’re not making sense. What side effects? What dinner? What’s happening?”
His chest rises and falls heavily, beads of sweat forming along his brow.  “I need you.”
“You have me.” you reply. He lets out a shaky breath, gaze slipping from your face to your body, over every curve you have and back up. He looks back to your face with a carnal, unrestrained desire.“No. I need you in ways that I should not take from you. I can endure this.” He groans. The side effect he mentioned is starting to make sense – an aphrodisiac. 
But it doesn’t shake you. Stolen evenings and unexpected gifts, whispered messages between meetings and surprise plushies left just for you—this isn’t for nothing. You want him. You want to be the one who helps him.
“And I’m saying you have me.” you whisper, “however you need me.”
In an instant, he surges forward, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss, nearly knocking you off balance. His claws steady you, holding you close as heat floods through you, every nerve alive under his touch. This wasn’t what you expected, but the rush is undeniable. After weeks of tension, playful flirtation, and stolen moments, you undeniably want this. The circumstances don’t change the feelings that you’ve harbored for him.
His pace is feverish, lips crashing against yours with a desperation that steals your breath. With inhumane sharp teeth, he pulls at your bottom lip before releasing, his tongue brushes lightly over your mouth, hesitant, seeking.
Your hands, trembling slightly, move to his jaw before drifting upward, fingers curling around his horns. The moment you tug gently, his breath hitches, a low gasp escaping him. His control slips further, the weight of his form heavy in the air between you as he slowly pulls away, panting, eyes squeezed shut. His hands, shaking, rest on your waist, still fighting against the wildness threatening to consume him.
“Sylus, it's ok. You can let go, show me your true form.”
He rests his head on your shoulder, face buried in the curve of your neck as he lets out a hushed groan, panting heavily as you feel his weight around you.
“Ok, my love.” He whispers, voice trembling, giving you no time to respond before his body begins to shift. The sound of bones cracking reverberates through the space, jarring and raw. He cups your chin gently, pulling your face to his, and kisses you deeply. Your eyes flutter shut as you cradle his tear-streaked cheeks in your palms, the damp warmth of his tears smearing against your skin. Whether he’s trying to distract you from his changing body or himself from the pain, you can’t be sure—but you return the kiss with equal passion, willing the world outside to fade away.
The sounds of his transformation— clothes ripping, bones snapping, joints realigning—begin to echo about louder and louder. Yet you ignore them, clinging to the heat between your lips, in hopes that the connection you share distracts him from the painful shift. After what feels like a small eternity, you pull away slowly, lips tingling from the heat of his breath. Steadying yourself, you take a step back, ready to take in all that he has become. 
Words cannot do justice to his new form. You stare in awe, committing his new body to your memory as he stands completely bare in front of you. Before you stands no trace of the human you once knew—only a towering, fearsome beast, the living embodiment of draconic ferocity. His body is a fusion of taut muscle and hardened scales, rippling with untamed power. Long, white hair cascades down his back, swaying like a mane as it frames his draconic face, a mix of humanoid and bestial features. His maw, lined with razor-sharp fangs, juts forward like that of a great dragon, yet his eyes still carry the familiar glint of Sylus—recognizable, despite the terrifying transformation.
His legs are thick and clawed like that of an animal, hoisting his massive form even higher above you. While he moves with the mannerisms of a bipedal creature, this is no man—this is something far more primal, more dangerous. Behind him, a long, jagged tail swings low, its blade-like ridges sharp and lethal. Higher up, leathery-red wings point upwards and wrap around his waist, covering himself up as modestly as he can. The horns that once subtly adorned his head have grown monstrously large, curling menacingly around his skull, nearly outsizing his monstrous, animalistic visage. His arms, though almost human in form, are colossal—each muscle encased in a thick, armor-like scale, protruding with strength at every joint as they swirl around his chest, where the beating thump of his heart stands out.
He is immense; a creature of both beauty and terror, and you can't help but feel both in awe and mesmerized in his presence.
You must look off-put, as Sylus bows his head, once more avoiding eye contact. Before he can move away, you take the initiative to reach out and grab his hand. Your fingers barely make a dent in his thick flesh, but still, you tug him towards yourself hoping he’ll understand the motive. 
“You’re beautiful.” You whisper, voice quiet as you reach your hand out for his face. He takes the hint, hesitantly stepping forward with a loud thud that shakes the ground nearby, bending down to place his jagged jaw into your hand lightly. 
“Don’t,” His voice comes out with a groggy, half-growl tone, “Lie.” He finishes. Each word seems to have winded him, sighs escaping through sharp talons.
“I’m not.” You answer, and before he can protest, you push your lips against what would be his lips in this new form. It’s awkward, your lips barely covering a quarter the size of his mouth, his large teeth pushing up against your mouth as you try to kiss him. But awkward as it is, he returns the passion as delicately as he can. 
“I still want you Sylus, like this, or in any form. You have me.”
He must finally give in to his desires, ignoring whatever reservations were holding him back as he realizes your devotion to him.  He takes your body in his giant hands, cradling you gently as he lifts you up so he can stand at full height. As you sit like a pretty doll in his palms, nearly 9 feet above the ground, he brings his head close to yours until his forehead and horns rest against your head. 
“Thank you.” He growls through softly bared fangs, “But… don’t know how much you can help me…” he trails off, “ like this. Don’t want to.. to hurt you.” 
As he leans away from you, a brief flicker of his eyes downwards gives him away. You shift a little in his grasp, hoping to peer down at one body part of his you hadn’t considered might also change. 
“Are you certain…want to see all of me?” Sylus nuzzles his sharp snout into your neck, subtly preventing you from looking further. 
“If it will help you, then of course. I know this isn’t how you wanted things to play out, but under different circumstances, I would still want to see all of you.”
Sylus lets you squirm out of his firm hold on you, allowing you to look past his scaled rocky chest and down to where the red tapered tip of his cock rests against his torso. And it's thick. The tip alone must be fatter than your fist. You can’t see beyond the tip from the angle you’re being held at but if it reaches this high up his body, it must be massive. Maybe you can’t help him the way he needs. 
The expression on your face must give away your shock at his size, as Sylus looks down to his cock and back up to your face, awaiting a reaction. 
“What exactly do you need from me to help you?” You ask hesitantly, gauging the severity of his need to fuck you. 
Sylus groans at your questions, low and deep, hips bucking forward like the mere thought of what you’re offering makes him throb. As he leans back to rest on a nearby tree, his hands tighten around your waist, just slightly, as he responds. 
“Need to fuck you,” he huffs, “To eat you,” he presses his face against your neck, “to breed you,”, saliva drips down from his scaly maw, landing hot and wet as it slides down the front of your shirt. “Mine.” 
“Mmph.” You moan, a warm wetness beginning to form between your legs at his words. “I’m not sure if you’ll fit, but we can try. Whatever will help you.” Your voice is flakey, shaking with each breath as you try to contain your arousal.
“Will fit,” he licks at your neck, right where your pulse is, “spit will help, will numb, stretch.” As he slides his tongue up, the sheer size of it alarms you and reminds you of how much bigger he is. Its heavy weight feels like a compression around you as it wraps once around your throat. The tip of it drags across your chin, soaking your face in his wetness, stopping before your lips, awaiting your approval. 
As he holds you so close to him, his hands the only thing supporting your body as his mouth pants at your chest, you give in. Accepting that whatever will come, Sylus will not hurt you. 
Opening your mouth, his tongue pushes in, stretching your jaw slightly before it flattens to fit better. Even with only the tip of it in, you’re overwhelmed as it thrashes around your cheeks, saliva beginning to drip down all around your face. 
Yet as it continues, as his tongue soaks your neck and fills your mouth, pleasure begins to stir within you. As his sharp talons hold you above his head, you start to crave more. As his scaly snout pokes into your chest, the feeling of being overwhelmed dissipates. The weight of his touch lightens. The awkward wetness feels comforting. 
And your arousal heightens. The fear that has been holding you back from fully indulging in him is gone, replaced by a carnal need to be used by him. Without even realizing it, you’ve gathered his heavy head in your hands, his tongue almost entirely down your throat as you swallow around it with ease. Face to face with his heavy maw, you finally let loose and moan into his mouth.
He pulls back slowly, unwinding his tongue from its place down your throat. He growls, keeping you eye to eye with him. “Ready?”
Jaw still sore, soaked from spit, you nod dumbly.
“Good.”  And as soon as the words escape his mouth he’s using a claw to rip apart your clothes, just barely leaving a mark on your skin as your tattered outfit falls to the ground. The cool air hits your body hard, nipples hardening in the wind as the saliva dries quickly. You tremble in his hands, partially due to the wind, and partially due to the way your body is out on display for him; the first time he’s seen you naked.
Any insecurities you may have had begin to melt away as he stares at you like he holds the world in his hands. “Beautiful.” He groans, gently caressing your skin with his claws. Despite his beastly exterior, he cradles you as though you are his most treasured possession.
Your skin is taut under his grasp as Sylus lifts you higher until you’re above his head. Staring directly at your exposed cunt, he clasps his maw against it before you can even blush at his forwardness. Gasping at his reaction, every touch seems to set your body aflame with desire. As his scaled lips touch your pelvis, his tongue begins to swirl around your pussy.
“Divine.” He croaks, words muffled by your wetness between his lips. He drags his tongue between your folds once more before diving deeper, the tip poking at your entrance. As his saliva mixes with your slick, your desire heightens. You need him in you now.
“Please, Sylus, fuck me already.”
His eyes snap from their view of where his tongue plays with your entrance, slit pupils dilating as he makes eye contact with you. He takes a deep breath in, then plunges his tongue deep inside.
The sensation is immediate, pleasure taking over your body as his self-lubricated muscle pumps into you, poking around at your gummy walls like it’s looking for room. No, like it’s making room. It’s almost terrifying, watching as his long and thick tongue penetrates deeper and deeper. It shouldn’t fit, but somehow, inch after inch it disappears further until you’re sat entirely on his sharp face.
 His hands hold your body up in the air as he tilts his head back to keep you in an upright position. Your feet, dangling on either side of his head, wrap around his horns to use as some kind of leverage to contrast the penetrating feeling of his tongue pushing against your cervix. “Mmm, Sy-!” You whine, his name the only word you can form as he pumps into you repeatedly. The coiling of his tongue pushes against all your inner walls, all the hidden spots you didn't know could be touched.
His fingers shift, one hand sliding slightly upwards, unintentionally grasping your loose tits between them, while the other wraps lower around your ass. It gives you a better view of his face - and the bulge protruding from your lower stomach every time his tongue flicks forward.
Sylus must catch your gaze, as he withdraws his tongue slowly until just the tip is inside, and he pushes on the bulged area, distending it to lengths that must made possible with the use of his aphrodisiac-like saliva. It hurts, but it hurts good. 
 “Carvin’ out my place in you.” He slurs as best he can without proper use of his tongue. He gives one last squeeze to your breasts, before withdrawing until he’s back to holding you up at chest height to him - still at least 9 feet above the ground.
“Ready?” he pants, “Sweetie?”
Missing the feeling of being filled already, you nod rapidly. Sylus smiles, scales glistening in his smirk, and then lowers himself until he’s lying on his back, keeping your body close to his chest. Feeling the base of his heavy cock rest on your ass is enough to get your body subconsciously moving, humping your hips forward helplessly, looking for any kind of stimulation. The hard texture of his skin beneath you catches against your clit. You lurch forward, hands steadying yourself on his defined abs to get yourself.
A purr-like noise radiating from beneath you causes you to open your eyes which must’ve closed in the chase for release. Sylus’ head is tilted low to watch as you use him and despite the desire in his eyes, he holds an expression that’s entirely human.
He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and suddenly, the world around you seems to still. His eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something deeper—infatuation. Relief washes over his face, softening his features as if the weight of years has been lifted in a single breath. It’s as though he’s finding solace in your acceptance of him, releasing the fears he’s long held about how you would perceive this form. He looks at you as if this moment is something he had once dared to hope for but never truly believed would come—an unspoken dream, now realized. His expression speaks of a man who has waited a lifetime for this, for you, and for the peace that comes with being seen and accepted completely.
“Sylus,” your voice comes out dripping with desire. The hardened skin beneath feels good, but you need more. There’s an aching emptiness within you, now that you’ve felt his tongue carve out a place in you. “Need you inside me. Now.”
He tosses his head back, throat exposed as he arches his back like you’re words alone pushed him closer to his release. His hands fondle your body before gently raising you up and back so you're sitting with his cock in front of you. And it is indeed massive. 
From where it rests against his stomach, you can see now why it felt so heavy when it was behind you. The base alone is almost as thick as one of your thighs. It shoots up at least a foot before tapering off to a tentacle-like tip that’s almost sized like a normal penis. 
There’s no way that’s fitting inside of you. 
“There’s no way that’s fitting inside me.”
Sylus huffs in what could be considered humour, before his expression softens. “It will… Some of it. Trust me.” He lets go of his grab on you and offers a hand. As your tiny palm slides around one of his fingers, just barely able to grasp it entirely in your hand, his wings wrap around your body like a shield of privacy. 
“Trust. Please.” His voice comes out more breathy than before, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath. It’s then that you notice the tension in his shoulders, the way they bunch up is different than a human body but still noticeable. He must be suffering, holding himself back. 
You turn your head to the side, nose brushing against his taut wing. “Ok.” And with confidence, you lean forward and grab his cock. Holding it with both your hands, the girth is barely contained between your fingers. It’s moist all over, self-lubricating, slippery, and heavy. Sylus gasps under his breath and before your fingers can even reach the tip, he’s sliding you forward and upward. 
Hands flat against his shoulders, your face to face with him once again as he reaches to guide his cock towards your entrance. The anxiety of how he’ll fit must be evident in your face as he leans forward and licks your cheek. 
“I’m ready.” You whisper, and Sylus slowly slips his tip inside your dripping cunt.
Fitting a literal monster cock inside you is not something you can easily prepare for, mentally or physically, for that matter. But somehow, with a mix of whatever is in his saliva and his earlier ministrations, you now sit with almost half of a monster cock deep in your gut. 
The stretch of your gummy walls accommodating his girth is not as painful as you would have imagined. 
It feels like a reward, as if you’re fulfilling a purpose your body was made for.
Because it was, wasn’t it? Isn’t your body destined to take him inside you and milk it until you’re full? Weren’t you made for this? 
The feeling of his tip working its way inside you reveals a hidden will of its own, pulsing and writhing around despite Sylus not thrusting into you yet. He slowly works you down his cock until it seems you’ve hit your limit. With just barely half his length inside, your cunt split open wider than you thought possible, the thumping tip pushes out into the area he fucked open with his tongue. 
“See?” He growls. “Fits. Just need tip.” At his last word, the tip inside pokes out into your belly, a protruding bulge in your front. He takes your hand in his much large hand and pushes back against it, and you nearly cum at the sensation. Based on his reaction, he nearly does too.  
It’s becoming too much and he’s not even fucking you yet. The widening of his girth from where it sticks out of you is lined with rocky scales that hit exactly at your clit, like they were made for your pleasure. The tense bundle of nerves ache for stimulation. You squeeze your legs around the base of his cock, and slowly thrust yourself forward in hopes that he understands what you want. 
He does. Using gentle hands, he holds you up in place before slowly starting to thrust his hips upwards into you. With each movement, his cock pushes through your gut leaving you feeling stuffed and full of desire. Your legs loosen from their grip around his base and instead, hang freely below you as he uses you like a personal flesh light. 
“Fuck.” He growls, hands tightening around you like he’s using your body to keep himself alive. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck.”
You can’t reply, at least not in words. The combination of his fat girth and poking tip render you speechless aside from a few moans of pleasure. “Sy…” you attempt his name, but it’s useless. You can’t focus on anything other than the way he fucks up into you. 
“Mine. Mine.  Fuck.” He mutters under his breath, fingers finding their way to where your body holds him inside, splaying across your belly to feel the weight of his cock inside you. 
The build-up of pleasure grows and grows as he brushes his cock against your clit and insides. Your edging closer and closer to release, but just as you feel your physical pleasure start to take over your mind, everything flips. 
The mossy ground is beneath you as you’re softly placed on the ground. With Sylus still inside your pulsing cunt, he now hovers above you, thick arms holding himself up on either side of your head. His wings flap around, shielding your body beneath him. 
“Mine. No one else’s.” He shouts, not taking his eyes off you as he raises an arm and holds his hand up in a direction away from you. Between the folds of his wings, you see movement: more wanderers. A few gnaves, they’re launching in your direction but a red whirling mist surrounds them before they can reach you. 
“Mine!” Sylus screams out, sharp fangs agape as he bares his teeth in the direction of the gnaves. From his position, he starts lightly thrusting his hips forward into you. The sharp pang of pleasure as he fucks into you draws your mind away from the looming threat of wanderers. 
You close your eyes, hands out grabbing for his chest, his arms, anything to ground you. A splattering of wetness across your face forces your eyes open in shock. Sylus stares down at you, his face and yours dripping in wanderer blood. Beside you, the dead bodies of the beasts disintegrate leaving only their protocors. Sylus fucks back into you. 
“Mmmph! Fuck - M’ yours!” You scream out, pulling his horned head towards you again and diving into his mouth. His long tongue laps at your mouth in anticipation before you let it slide in and down your throat once more, the numbing of the saliva still in effect as it mixes with the blood across your face.
“Mine. Mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed.” Sylus pants into your mouth, words obstructed by his tongue down your throat. 
“Mmhmm.” You whimper, unable to form words between the harsh fucking of his cock in you and his tongue in your mouth. 
”I’m…” he groans, “here.” He lowers a hand to your stomach, the bulge less visible than the previous position but still just as deep in you as he fucks forward. 
“My place.” The tip of his cock squirms around and fucks up into you at a pace faster than his hips, smooshing against the thing wall of skin separating it and his hand on the other side. It feels like being fucked twice, one thick and slow, stretching against your clit. The other, thin and fast, pumping around against your cervix in whatever space has been molded to take it. 
“No one else.” His gaze is animalistic, hungry, desperate. With each thrust his hardens torso twists and twitches, your tiny body beneath him rocking back and forth on the ground. It hurts, it’ll definitely leave bruises on your skin, but the pleasure overtakes you. 
He slides his tongue out of you and it slithers to wrap around your throat. He looks over you, head nearly twice as big as yours with his sharp horns dangling over either side of your face. This shouldn't be as enjoyable as it is. You should be scared. The leader of Onichynous is splitting you open on the floor of a wandered infested forest after turning into one himself. 
But the way he stares at you overrides all of those things. He looks down at you with such a longing mixture of emotions. He looks down at you like you’re the most precious and dear thing to him in the world, like he’s been waiting for this, like he needs this like he needs to breathe air. Like he can’t believe it’s finally happening. 
His red eyes widen at your eye contact as you raise a hand to rest against his scaled cheekbone.  Not entirely human. Not entirely wanderer. Completely Sylus. 
His eyes glaze over, whether from the pleasure or the intimacy of the act, you’re unsure. But it moves you to speak. “Yours. Forever.” 
That pushes him over the edge, wings flapping violently behind him, horns scraping into the dirt beneath you without care as he leans his head down beside yours. His tongue squeezes at your throat, his breath and pace quickening as he fucks sloppily into you.
“Fuc- mmph...” he stutters into your ear, trying to form words. And then he whimpers, a high-pitched, voice-cracking cry right into your ear. And then he cums. And you can feel it happen. 
You can feel a sudden warmth spread through your lower half, feel each spurt and twitch of his cock. The pressure increases as it pumps into you and pushes against your walls, making you feel even more stuffed as he stays inside you. 
It must be some kind of wanderer, monster anatomy but you can feel the base of his cock tightening as he cums. It swells and grows, pushing further up against your clit. With each twitch of his hips, the base rubs on the nerves until you finally come undone on him. 
“Fuck! Sylus! I’m-!” You cry out. 
“I know, Sweetie,” he moans, voice hoarse, “Keep cumming. For me.”
You close your eyes, whole body tensing as release tingles through your muscles like a spell. Each pulse of pleasure quivering throughout your body; a blanket of white taking over your every thought. Your legs wrap and tighten around Sylus’ waist as he rocks forward into you, slowing down with every hump as you slowly become overstimulated.
“Nnph. Sylus, too much. Can’t.” You whimper out, eyes squeezed shut as you paw at his torso to slow down.  He doesn’t reply, but his body comes to a halt until he’s still above you. His breath is warm against your chest in slow, warm puffs. Time seems to come to a stop; your body feels heavy, and your mind floating above. There’s nothing besides you, the ground beneath you, and Sylus deep inside you. 
After what feels like hours (but could very well be minutes), Sylus shifts. A sharp claw slides gently under your back, supporting your weight as it picks up you. You keep your eyes closed in a heightened state of bliss, trusting Sylus as he moves until you are chest-to-chest with him while he lays on his back. The leather blanket of his wings rests on your shoulders as they wrap around you, keeping you warm and protected from the outside world. His cock remains nestled deep inside you, your stomach feeling tender - used. As if sensing your awareness to the discomfort, Sylus runs a sharp finger down the crest of your back, humming a cracked and hoarse tune. You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t. He just sits in the silence with you. 
With the strength of Linkon’s most powerful hunter, you lift your tired head off his chest and peer up at him to find his ruby eyes already staring back at you. He looks unsure, almost vulnerable, an expression that a giant horned wanderer shouldn’t be able to express. His hand steadies on your waist, keeping a light hold on you like he’s waiting for you to pull away.
“You mean the world to me Sylus.” You say, eyes glimmering with intent and honesty. He doesn’t respond but his chest stops rising for a moment, a baited breath like he needs a moment for the words to set in. You can see the thoughts racing in his mind as he stares back at you and for a split second, his eyes shine with unshed tears. 
He looks away before you can comment, a smile returning to his face before looking back at you with a soft gaze. “And you are my world.” He says softly. He pulls you tight to him in an embrace that feels like more than just a hug, nuzzling his scaled-maw to your cheek. “Thank you. For trusting me.”
“Of course.” You smile, care seeping into your voice. “How are you feeling? Are the side effects… gone?” You ask, unsure of how to approach to topic. 
“Yes, thanks to you. I don’t know where I’d be without my feisty little kitten.” he teases, but there’s no bite to his tone - It’s filled with appreciation and truth. He smiles and as he does the tips of his scales begin to crumble to dust.
“You never cease to surprise me, Miss Hunter. I thought I walked this unforgiving road alone. You’ve proven me wrong, I’m sorry for doubting your trust in me.” He picks up your hand in his now considerably more human-sized palm and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll answer all your questions once we’re back at the base. But for now, let me tend to your body. Rest. Stop that wired train of thought in your pretty little head.”
“I don’t think -” you start in protest, but he pushes a no-longer taloned finger to your lips and hushes. “I’ll play kitty cards with you all night long if you wait until we get back.” He bribes, and you can’t find it in you to deny his offer. 
“Pinky promise?” You ask with a small voice, suddenly alerted to the feeling of Sylus’ monster cock shrinking within you and leaving you feeling empty even though he remains within.
“Pinky promise.” He replies, locking his finger around yours and sealing the deal with a spark of red evol energy swirling between you two. He notices your brief discomfort, holding you closer to him with a look nothing short of true love for you. “Thank you for this. You’ve given me a support that I don’t deserve.” He whispers into your ear. You tear your gaze from where your hands are intertwined and are met with human Sylus once again. 
“Don’t insult yourself like that. What we think we deserve and what others see in us are rarely the same—sometimes, we just have to accept the kindness offered.” You say in a stern voice. He looks at you with utter respect, eyes glowing like you’re his queen. “As you wish.” He hums, and it finally seems like everything you’ve said sinks in. “Now let’s get you cleaned up. As stunning as you are, I don’t think dried wanderer blood is a healthy fashion statement.” He lulls as he begins to unwrap his arms from you. 
“Rest, kitten.” Sylus smiles as he smudges dried blood away on your cheek.“Although we’ll need to find where our phones fell to. And new clothes.”
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yanderelionwrites · 29 days ago
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Influencing the Gacha Pulls - Self Aware Twst x Player/Reader
Kind of a Kalim and Jamil centric one-shot, tho it leans more towards Jamil at the end. Thought it'd be funny to write how the cast could change the results of summons
This is somewhat unserious lmao
Characters featured: Kalim, Ace, Deuce, Jade, Floyd, Ruggie, Cater, Epel, Sebek, Ortho, Lilia, Jamil
Content Warning: yandere, jealous and petty boys want the Player’s attention
Word Count: 1.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kalim skipped down the halls of Night Raven College, merrily making his way towards the Mirror Chamber. Today, the Player would be pulling for his newest SSR card! He had to make sure he was present so he’d “come home early”, as they liked to say. He may not be as powerful as the other housewardens, but he’ll try his darndest to influence the system as much as he can. He wouldn’t want the Player to waste all their hard-earned keys and gems!
Rounding the corner, the chamber doors came into view, and he eagerly quickened his pace. Oh, he just couldn’t wait to see the overjoyed look on the Player’s face when they received his card!
He was about to reach for the door’s handle, but was taken by surprise by two people tackling him to the ground.
“Wah! What the…?!” Kalim opened his eyes to see a blur of red and blue hair. “Ace? And Deuce too? What’s going on?”
“We’re here to stop you, that’s what!” Ace lifted his head, fiery determination swimming in his gaze.
“Sorry, Kalim! But we can’t let you near the Dark Mirror!” Deuce exclaimed just as insistent.
“Huh? Why? The Player will be pulling for my card soon, I have to be there to help them!”
“Apologies, Kalim,” Jade’s voice came from behind, and he looked up to see the smiling eel towering over him. His expression remained one of politeness, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “We did not mean to be so rough with you. We’ve been given strict orders by our respective housewardens to ensure you…happen to miss out on the Player’s gacha pull.”
“What?! But it’s my banner!” Kalim said, alarmed.
“Aha ha!” Floyd appeared beside his brother, leaning down to pick Kalim up off the floor by the arms. “That’s just how the fish flop, Sea Otter!”
 They dragged him to a far away empty classroom, where more of the main cast was waiting. Floyd sat the poor boy down on one of the seats, and he and Jade made sure to hold Kalim down by keeping a hand on each of his shoulders.
“Oh good, ya caught him.” Kalim turned his head to see Ruggie sitting on one of the desks, his signature grin plastered on his face.
Cater stood beside him, but at least he looked more apologetic. “Hey, Kalim! Suuuper sorry about this, but we promise to make it up to you afterwards!”
“Eh? Ruggie, Cater, you’re in on this too?!” Kalim exclaimed.
“Not just them,” Across the room stood Epel. “We’re all makin’ sure ya don’t wander into the Mirror Chamber.”
Kalim took note of how Ortho, Sebek, and Lilia were there too, looking pleased and unconcerned about the situation. The white-haired boy cocked his head to the side in confusion, resembling a distraught puppy. “I still don’t really understand what all of this is about… Do you not want the Player to get my card?”
“Of course not!” Sebek shouted. “They should only be using the mirror to summon my liege! They have not yet received a single SSR of him since they started playing, but that shall change today!”
Ortho nodded. “Yeah, and it’s the same for Idia! He wants to try out his experimental method of giving the Player all of his SSR cards!”
“Basically, my dear Kalim,” Lilia started, moving to float over the desk Kalim was sitting at. “the housewardens are trying to influence the likelihood of their cards being pulled. They knew the Player had been planning to pull for you during your showcase, so they thought now would be as good a chance as any to try.”
Kalim pouted. “That makes sense…I guess? But you didn’t have to drag me away!”
“We’ve been promised that our own chances would increase as long as we keep ya outta the way,” Ruggie explained.
Ace huffed and crossed his arms. “And to be honest, I’d rather not see the Player pull for you once again.”
Whether Kalim was aware of it or not, the boys have noticed that the Player seemed to favor him a lot. It was only a matter of time before they decided to let their jealousy control their actions, and poor Kalim would have to suffer for it.
Deuce hummed in thought, a frown forming on his lips. “Still though… I guess we did kind of treat him a bit roughly… Jamil won’t be mad, right?”
“That’s why Sea Snake doesn’t have to know about this,” Floyd said, brushing his worries off. “Someone’s on the lookout for him anyway, so it should be fineee.”
A familiar voice came behind him, from the classroom door. “What don’t I have to know about, Floyd?”
“Jamil!” Kalim cried, his eyes sparkling in hope. They all watched said boy walk further into the room, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Wait a minute… Floyd, weren’t you supposed to be the one to stall him?!” Ace yelled.
Floyd paused for a minute, before remembering. “…Oh yeah. Whoops.”
Jamil sighed. “Is there any particular reason you all are gathered here holding Kalim down to a seat?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what’s going on today.” Ruggie simpered, not an ounce of regret in him. “It’s Kalim’s banner, remember?”
“Yes, I’m aware,” Jamil said. “I’m assuming you’re doing this to keep his card from being pulled then?”
“Yeah, and so what if we are?” Epel huffed, taking a defensive stance. Jamil rolled his eyes.
“Relax. I’m not going to try and stop you.”
“Wait… You aren’t?” Deuce asked, surprised.
“No. I thought it was suspicious that it had been so quiet lately, so I came to see what was up. I didn’t think you’d be holding Kalim hostage, though. But I can see that he looks relatively unharmed, so…”
Jade pretended to look hurt and said, “Do you have such little faith in us? We would never dream of wanting to bring serious harm to Kalim here.”
Jamil scoffed. “With this group? I wasn’t too sure.” The boy then turned around, leaving the same way he had come in. “But now that I know where he is, I’ll be taking my leave. After all…” A devious, knowing look appeared on his features before he shut the door. “I have a summoning to go to.”
Kalim strained against Floyd and Jade’s grips, appearing panicked as he watched his vice dorm leader leave. “Huh?! Wait, Jamil?! Where are you going?”
Jamil chuckled to himself, leaving the classroom (and Kalim) behind. He’s come second to the boy for his whole life, can you really blame him for wanting to put himself first for once? This is the one thing he can’t afford to lose.
Besides, there would be plenty of showcases featuring Kalim in the future. Him missing out on one won’t be the end of the world. Sure, the Player may be upset at not getting the card they wanted, but Jamil was hoping you’d still have him regardless. Would it be too much to ask for you to look at him instead? To pay attention to him, to favor him, to worship him for a change?
* * *
You’ve been pulling for a while now, already having passed 100 pulls. You feel like the unluckiest gacha player ever right now with how many repeats you’ve gotten.
“Why the hell do I keep getting Jamil cards??” you whine. Over half of your last ten-pull had been filled with Scarabia’s vice dorm leader. You were almost completely out of gems now, only having enough for one more pull. “Kalim, where are youuu…”
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aventurineswife · 11 days ago
Note
Comforting reader after they get a really bad hair cut. They are so pissed about it, they want to buzz their hair so bad just to get rid of the bad cut. But ultimately doesn't thanks to lovely calming words, actions and whatnot. Mainly with Boothill, Itto, Argenti and maybe Aventurine. Or whoever else might fit!
(Totally not based on a thing that actually happened, totally not...)
Chopping Away the Anger
Tags: Argenti x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Itto x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Self-Image, Emotional Support, Emotional Growth, Character Development, Mentions of Frustration, Gentle Guidance, Healing.
Warnings: Mild frustration, Body-image issues, Self-doubt.
A/N: I'm sorry to hear that 😭🙏
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You storm into the room, frustration radiating off you as you run your fingers through your messed-up hair. The mirror told the cruel truth. It was nothing like the picture you’d shown the stylist. It was chopped, uneven, and nothing short of a disaster. The urge to just grab the clippers and shave it all off was overwhelming. You hated it so much.
Boothill, who had been sitting by the window, watching the stars flicker in the sky, turned his head at your sudden entrance. His sharp gaze scanned you for a moment, sensing the tension in your stance.
"You look like a rattlesnake that got caught in a blender," he commented with a smirk. "But somethin’ tells me it ain’t the hair that’s botherin’ you."
You let out an exasperated sigh. "It’s just... I hate it, Boothill. I hate it so much. I wanna buzz it all off. I don’t even care anymore."
He stood up, walking over slowly, his tall, mechanical form casting a shadow over you. With his shark-like teeth, he gave a soft chuckle, though there was a warmth to it. "Well, if you’re thinkin’ of buzzin’ it, then I reckon I might just get a front row seat to that spectacle."
You turned your head, locking eyes with him. His black eyes glinted in the low light, aim symbols flickering in them like a sign of his sharp, calculated mind. He gently reached up, brushing some of your hair behind your ear, his touch surprisingly tender despite his rugged exterior.
"I ain’t sayin' you ain’t got the right to be mad about it," Boothill said, his tone softening. "But sometimes the things we don’t like... can still be part of what makes us who we are."
He ran his fingers through your hair, carefully examining the cut. "Ain't so bad if you ask me. Maybe not the way you planned, but ain't that the way life goes sometimes? Messes with ya, but you learn to work around it."
You gave him a skeptical look, but his words, accompanied by the calm of his presence, began to soften your frustration. The need to buzz it off felt less pressing now, even though the hair still felt like a tangled mess.
"Besides," he continued, his voice low and calm, "you’ll look back and laugh about this one day. You’re still you, with or without the perfect cut."
Boothill’s smile widened, showing just a hint of his shark-like teeth, and in that moment, the thought of grabbing the clippers seemed less urgent.
You sighed, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders as Boothill’s presence surrounded you. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
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You walked into the room, hair disheveled and a fiery anger in your eyes. Itto looked up from where he was lounging, his giant horns poking out from behind the couch as he raised an eyebrow.
"Hey! What happened to your hair?" he asked, sitting up with a grin.
You flopped down on the couch, practically fuming. "I don’t want to talk about it. I hate it, Itto. I look like a mess. I’m honestly thinking of just buzzing it all off."
Itto's playful expression softened, and he sat up properly, giving you his full attention. He could tell the frustration in your tone was genuine.
"Alright, alright, calm down," he said with a chuckle, coming closer. "I get it, you’re mad. But you know what? Buzzing it off ain't gonna solve anything."
You crossed your arms. "I don’t care. It’s awful. What else can I do?"
Itto put a big, warm hand on your shoulder, the kind of gesture that made you feel safe despite his boisterous nature. His big, goofy smile was comforting, and his words were laced with sincerity.
"Look," he started, his voice more serious now. "We all have days where things don’t go the way we want. I get that. You can always change things, but sometimes, you gotta give yourself a little time. You don’t gotta make big decisions when you’re mad."
He nudged your hair gently, the way he would pet his own own when it was feeling down. "You got a lot of beautiful stuff goin’ on already. Why not let the bad haircut be a funny story? You can always fix it later, but this moment, right here? It's yours."
You looked up at him, your annoyance slowly melting away. The comforting presence of Itto, so simple and genuine, reminded you that it was okay to embrace the imperfection. It was just hair, after all.
"Okay, fine," you sighed, finally cracking a smile. "But next time I’m picking the stylist."
Itto grinned, giving you a thumbs-up. "Deal! And hey, no buzz cuts yet, alright? You can pull it off. I’ll help you fix it—just not with a razor."
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You stormed into the room, hair a mess from a botched haircut. You barely even cared about how it looked, feeling like it was the end of the world. Argenti, ever the epitome of grace and composure, raised an eyebrow at your entrance.
"What’s the matter, my dear? Your expression looks like you’ve seen a ghost."
"I hate it, Argenti. I look terrible!" You ran your fingers through your hair again, growing more frustrated. "I should just buzz it all off. At least then it’d be uniform."
Argenti stood up from his elegant chair, his movement fluid like a dancer’s. He walked toward you, his eyes warm with understanding. "Ah, I see. A sudden transformation of your appearance has left you in distress. But I implore you to consider... beauty is never merely a reflection of perfection. It’s found in the very imperfection itself."
You looked at him, not sure what he meant. "What are you talking about? My hair looks like a disaster."
Argenti took your hand gently, his touch light as he guided your fingers through your hair. "In our world, it’s the flaws that make things unique. It’s the things that are unexpected and raw that carry the most beauty."
He tilted your chin up slightly, his gaze soft. "What others might see as imperfection... I see as a chance for something new. A challenge for you to redefine beauty in your own image."
You met his gaze, slowly beginning to understand. His calm presence, his dedication to beauty in every form, made you rethink your initial reaction.
"You have a gift for seeing things differently," you whispered, a smile starting to form.
"Ah, but it is not a gift," Argenti replied, his voice full of quiet confidence. "It is merely the nature of those who have walked the path of Beauty. It’s about seeing beyond the surface and embracing what is. Your hair? It can still be beautiful."
His words were enough to quiet the storm inside you. The idea of buzzing it off seemed less appealing now, especially with his calming influence at your side.
"Thank you, Argenti," you murmured, feeling the frustration lift.
"Of course," he said, his smile a perfect blend of kindness and serenity. "Let it grow. Let it become part of your story."
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You entered the room, your anger palpable. Your hair, which you had been so excited to get styled, now lay in disarray, hacked unevenly. You paced back and forth, hands tangled in your messy locks. "I can’t take it. I’m so done. I should just buzz it all off. It’s a joke."
Aventurine, ever the one to watch with careful eyes, raised his eyebrows, though his lips twitched upward in that signature, enigmatic smile. "A disaster, I presume?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.
You nodded vehemently. "I look ridiculous. I can’t stand it."
He stood from his chair, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and understanding. "I’ve known risk-takers, gamblers, but hair... now that’s a new wager," he said with a chuckle, his voice smooth and almost hypnotic.
He stepped closer, his presence calming and intense. "If I may, allow me to remind you of the game you’re playing, my dear. The beauty of a thing is not always immediate. Sometimes, it’s in how we adjust, adapt, and evolve. It’s in waiting for the perfect moment."
You stopped pacing, the words settling in your mind.
"You may think of buzzing it all off, but would that truly be the move you want to make? Is that what you would want if you weren’t so caught up in the frustration?" His voice softened, a touch of sincerity slipping through. "Sometimes, the greatest strategy is to pause and allow things to evolve on their own. You might find that the answer to this 'disaster' is simply time."
You looked up at him, the weight of his words taking hold. "You’re right. Maybe I’ve been too hasty."
He smiled, a rare and genuine expression. "Patience, my dear. The game is not yet finished."
As you sat down and let out a deep breath, you realized that the impulsive desire to buzz it off had passed, replaced by the quiet confidence in Aventurine’s words.
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pomefioredove · 11 months ago
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My brain is kinda sluggish plus I'm indecisive but also i did like several of these (also if i need to divide up this post let me know)
I have no clue which i like best so i simply made a list but let me know if i need to chunk it up
For Riddle Rosehearts
"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." Or "I'm putting you on my to-do list."
For Vil Schoenheit
"Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."
For Ruggie
"You like me because I'm a scoundrel."
vil done here!
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summary: "if you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." type of post: short fic characters: riddle additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, maybe ooc, post book 1
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You think it's a pretty pathetic sight, but you make no mention of it. Their egos are bruised enough as it is.
"How long?" you ask, sitting across from the shackled duo.
Ace knocks against the solid collar around his neck. "Not long... But we can't present like this,"
You were hoping he wouldn't say that.
And just a day after you told them not to do anything stupid this week, too...
Deuce says nothing; he's been sulking at the end of the table like a puppy with its tail between its legs for the entire lunch period.
"Have you tried reasoning?" you ask. "Maybe he can take them off for the presentation, then put them back on?"
Ace scoffs. "Reason? With Riddle?"
"I thought he was trying to be more lenient?"
"He is," Deuce mutters, hanging his head. "But that just means he only dishes out punishments when someone really deserves it..."
"It was just a stupid painting!" Ace says.
"That we set on fire!"
You look between the two as they bicker over the accident, bewildered by their lack of concern about where this puts you.
Ace and Deuce were supposed to perform the magical component of your defense project, while you and Grim presented. Now...?
You stand. "I'll talk to Riddle,"
Your friends share a pitiful look, but do nothing to stop you as you hurry out of the room.
Surely, Riddle will understand. He wouldn't let you suffer from Ace and Deuce's mistake!
"No," he says.
"But-"
Riddle beheads the wilting flower of a rose with a sharp snap of his shears. It tumbles into the underbrush.
"They destroyed a priceless piece of art. It was hundreds of years old!" he snaps, leaving no room for disagreement. "They should be thankful it's only a week."
He moves on to the next browning rose, inspecting its petals before decapitating it, too.
"But I didn't do anything. I told them not to do anything dumb, I tried to reason with them,"
"Reason? With Ace and Deuce?" he scoffs.
"I would recommend asking for an extension on your assignment until they've carried out their sentence,"
It's too late to ask for another week; he must know that. And you're not giving up so easily.
There must be something you can say...
"But it was an accident,"
Riddle scoffs. "Of course it was. And the rules clearly state that accidental arson of a painting more than three hundred years old must be punished by losing their heads,"
Rules. Great. This is quickly becoming a lost cause.
"There has to be some other way they can be punished," you say. "You said you weren't going to lose your head about these things anymore."
He sighs, rolling his eyes as if frustrated with you. "The rules-"
"Come on, Riddle- If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun!"
Riddle stops. For a moment, it's almost like... he's actually considering your offer.
"...What exactly did you have in mind?"
-
"This is what you call a compromise?!"
Ace's head of fiery hair pops up, the color a striking contrast against the green of the hedge maze.
You shrug. Riddle, sitting across from you as you watch the two tend to the shrubbery, almost giggles.
"The Prefect has been more than fair. If anything, you should be thanking them for the opportunity to end your punishment early," he says, pouring you another cup of tea.
Ace grumbles, scratching his neck under his collar.
Deuce nudges him, and the two get back to work on trimming the hedges, a puny pair of shears in each hand.
Riddle smiles. "I must say, I'm rather impressed by your persuasion skills. It's not often that I change the terms of a punishment after it's dealt,"
"Well, I didn't want to fail on their account,"
"I heard that!" Ace yells. Riddle grins again.
"Perhaps your ingenuity will inspire them, then," he hums, cupping his tea in his palms.
"In the meantime, I believe another tea party is in order for tomorrow afternoon- they have a lot of ground to cover. Care to join?"
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sugarygetoo · 8 months ago
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red.
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-> pairing: rengoku kyojuro x fem! reader.
-> summary: kyojuro once loved red.
-> cw/ tw:  major character death, mentions of demons (duh!), blood, mentions of torture(?),
-> wc: 1.6k (i'm cooking so hard at 3 in the morning omg)
-> an. supriseeeeee i told you guys i was coming back with an angst this came to me while driving back home from a bbq party (i wasn't driving) so i really don't know what that says about me lmao
i lowkey just pulled this one out of my ass lmao, i have so many noted down ideas i need to write and i decided to write one that i came up with on a whim...
also, call me a sadist but i love when people comment about how they feel about my works, like i love it when they tell me how sad it is like yessss sufferrrr <3333
!! this fictional work contains many descriptions of blood, please proceed with caution, we as creators are not responsible for the content you choose to consume!!
main masterlist. | kimetsu no yaiba masterlist.
✎ xoxo, yena
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kyojuro loves the color red.
it was a beautiful color, with meanings just as beautiful to go along with it.
a fiery red burns with passion. it’s bright and bold, always standing out from a crowd. it was a color that was made to make the person wearing it shine. like how his hair and eyes were always drawing people’s attention. 
a soft red, or some might know it as pink, carries gentle feelings — feelings, like love and “home”. it was a color that made kyojuro think about you. you whom he loves with every atom in his body.
red has always reminded kyojuro of you. 
you, who is forever always so lovely and shone ever so beautifully in his eyes. you, who engraved her every existence into the deepest parts of his very soul. you, who always whispers sweet nothings into his ears after a long day of work, telling him how much you’ve missed him and how proud you were of him and his accomplishments. you, who always burned with passion and kindness, like a flame that refuses to die down in the rain. you were home to kyojuro in every sense of the way, from your sweet, sweet words to your lingering kisses,  you were always so perfect in kyojuro’s eyes.
kyojuro had always loved the color red on you.
it was a color that was crafted to perfectly suit you. from the way it compliments your features to the way it made you shine brighter than anyone else around. red was a color that suited you like nothing else.
kyojuro loved the color red.
red, that reminded kyojuro of the time he brought you to a field of roses, where you smiled like a child and let out laughter coming from the deepest parts of your heart. where you kissed him and he was able to taste your favorite strawberry lip balm. where you stuck a rose behind his ear, thanking him for bringing you here while he sat and stared at you as the sun hit your back making you look like an angel that was sent from the heavens above to take him away (and he’d let you).
red, that reminded him of the time he proposed to you with a ring that was encrusted with a red gem similar to the color of his eyes on it. it reminds him of the way your eyes turned into a soft red as tears gathered in your eyes, as your soft pink lips start to tremble and a small gasp leaves you. the way you ignored the expensive jewelry and threw yourself onto him while he was on his knees, where you knocked the both of you over, sending both of you to the ground, the way your warm tears flowed out of your eyes and lands on his face, your soft, gentle lips leaves kissed all over his face. starting from his eyes, then to his forehead, then his cheeks, his nose, his chin, then finally, his lips. it reminds him of the way you replied to his question with a breathless yes after a breathtaking kiss. 
red, that reminds kyojuro of the carefully handcrafted wedding dress that the two of you were choosing. how it fitted around you like a second layer of skin. how the colors brought out your features and made them shine. it reminded him of how excited you were to pick out the dress that you were to wear in a few weeks time, how you would spend hours upon hours choosing between two shades of red (that he couldn’t tell the difference of), then decided to try them both on, only to pick a third option. it reminded him of you asking him for his opinion only to dismiss it as the only reply he could come up with was “you look beautiful in anything, my love” (which was true in his eyes).
kyojuro loved red.
red, that was the color of passion. the color that reminded kyojuro of himself so much. it was the color of the tips of his hair —  his hair that looked like the brightest of flames. it was also the color of his eyes. his eyes that always shone with pride and passion. eyes that you loved kissing and staring into. eyes, that you loved complimenting, always comparing them to the sun. 
“they’re the most beautiful pair of eyes i’ve ever seen. they remind me of the sun, kyojuro. they always shine so bright, even in the darkest times. they remind me of hope, of longing, your eyes give me strength, my love. you are the sun in my life, my light.” 
kyojuro once loved the color red.
red, that was the color meaning of danger, a color that was bright like a warning to those who sees it. red that meant anger and violence. it was a color that he sees often when he is sent out on missions. from red ornaments thrown around a house to red clothing scattered and in tatters, red was never a good sign. if anything, red always meant something was wrong.
red, that was the color of blood. a color that kyojuro often see while doing his job. it was a color that often stained his sword and clothing, making it hard to wash out. it was a color that kyojuro often hoped to never find while searching for a demon for if it was evident, it never meant good for the people that was once near the area. 
red was a color that kyojuro dislike while working.
red, that was the only thing that he could see. red that burns in his eyes, as his breath grows heavier and heavier and his world begins to move slower and slower. his eyes felt as if they were burning and he cannot feel anything. in the far distance, he could make out muffled voices and sounds of swords clashing, but he couldn’t move.
red, like the blood that came out from the multiple wounds that the demon sustained. the wounds that kyojuro himself tortuously carved into the demon’s body. red, that stained his clothing, his uniform and the haori that you painstaking made for him. he remembers every word you’ve said as clear as day, “here, my love, a gift from me.” you’d then help him put it on, layer it comfortably on top of his demon slayer uniform “i hope this haori can protect you, whether that’s warding the demons away from you or to protect you from the rain, i hope this haori can remind you of me”. kyojuro can only continue his attacks towards the demon, each swing of the blade planned carefully to never hurt the demon to much to the point of killing it. kyojuro wanted it to suffer.
red, like the color that sprouted from your body, staining the otherwise spotless white dress that you were adorning. you were on the ground, turned over, your stomach on the ground with your back facing him. you were unmoving as he closed his distance, his steps getting heavier and heavier as he got closer and closer.
from where he was standing, he could see you as you laid on the floor, your body unmoving as he called out to you.
“y/n?” he’d call out ever so softly, as if he was afraid you’d wake. “i’m back, my love.”
as he crouched down, and laid his hands on your shoulder, he could feel his breath leaving his body. you were so, so cold. he turned you over and—
all he could see was red.
red. 
red. 
red.
red, like the color that stained your white dress.
red, that dripped from your arm as kyojuro picked you up from the ground, that stained the floor of your shared home, that made the mansion smell like rust and metal.
red, that was the color of the flowers outside of his home, the roses, the poppies, the chrysanthemums, and the spider lilies. the color that dripped from your lips onto the white lilies that were planted closest to the porch, tinting them forever.
red, that dripped onto kyojuro, that still had some lingering warmth. 
red, that tinted kyojuro’s lips as he kissed you ever so carefully, from your closed eyes to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, your neck, then carefully, he kissed your lips. they were bright shades of red, like the lipstick that was gifted to you from mitsuri but rarely used since you didn’t think it looked good on you. your lips no longer tasted like the strawberry lip balm that you loved using, but instead tasted of rust and metal, a taste that kyojuro knows he will never be able to forget.
red, like the gem on the ring that was left on your  finger, that was stained with your blood. the gem shines against the moonlight as kyojuro could do nothing but hold you closer to him, cradling your head into his neck as he rocks the two of you back and forth, his eyes watering as he hums a tone you once loved. 
as the sun rises, kyojuro kisses your forehead again, then lifts your lifeless hand to his lips as he kisses the cold ring left on your finger, a promise to you for revenge. he closes his eyes as the first ray of light enters his eyes, the sun finally showing itself to kyojuro. 
tears finally fall, as he realizes that you are gone. that you’ve gone to the moon to join the stars and he was left in this world as your sun, to be damned to shine alone.
kyojuro kisses you one last time, as he could no longer contain his sobs of sadness.
kyojuro hates red.
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@ sugarygetoo, all rights reserved.
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whendeeplybored · 11 months ago
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My favourite thing about Zuko and Katara is that they both are the sun and the moon. They are red and blue.
Let me explain.
Obviously at first glance Katara is the moon and Zuko is the sun, right ?
Katara is a water bender. Waterbending is associated with the moon since the benders draw their power from it. Contrastingly Zuko is a fire bender who draws his power from the Sun. So naturally we associate Zuko with the Sun and Katara with the moon.
It is also a fully established parallel in 'The siege of the North' with one of Zuko's hardest bars:
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But anyways I'm gonna guess you all know this :p It is all pretty obvious after all.
What is very interesting to me is this. Hear me out. When you really think about it. Traditionally speaking. A sun-coded character is bright, fierce, fiery, attracts attention and brings joy and hope.
Isn't that the perfect description of a certain 14-year-old hair loop wearer we all know ?
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On the other hand, traditionally a moon coded character is cold, sensitive, empathetic, maybe grumpy and sad, a light that only glows in the darkness (if that even makes sense lol, I mean they might try to find glory and success by being on the wrong side of history). Again doesn't that remind you of a scarred pretty boy from that old ass Nickelodeon show?
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So what I mean is that in the concept of the show Zuko = sun and Katara = moon but outside of that Zuko can very much equal moon and Katara can fit the characteristics of a sun coded character.
This Tumblr post describes another side of it so well:
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The Sun coded character here is a perfect description of Katara especially in the Southern Raiders episode which explores a side of her we just don't talk about enough ! I know the episode creates loaaads of drama but we can all agree (I hope) that she had a lot of bottled up rage which just exploded and almost overtook her in that episode. And do I even have to explain the moon coded one is literally Prince Zuko of a corrupt Fire nation who fought to lead his people into an era of peace or ? He even fits the stereotypical one perfectly (he do be moody and grumpy).
The writers just gave this perfect duality to them both like uuurgh!!! The fact that, in season 3, Katara learns that waterbending can be pain and death and not just the healing flow of life she thought it was and then a few episodes later Zuko discovers that firebending is also life rather than just destruction. Like wow how genius !!
*sigh*
Bottom line is Zuko and Katara really are the twin flames they think they are. 🙂‍↕️
Two raging purple flames.
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kayakima · 4 months ago
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Why do you think Jean and Pieck work well as a couple? (srs)
I know you have a fic of it but I'm curious about your direct take.
Oooo I’m definitely not the first person who has said this but a lot of the appeal with Jean x Pieck lies with the post-canon potential between the two of them as opposed to scenes that you directly see in the manga/anime!
Jean and Pieck are both shown to be incredibly pragmatic, level-headed, and loyal characters, (where their loyalty primarily lies with people as opposed to the systems that brought them up. I.e. Pieck saying she doesn’t trust Marley but the people she’s fought with, and Jean telling Reiner that they’re no different from each other, so it’s wrong to judge their actions), and in their few short scenes together, it shows that they immediately read how the other works in a way that they can work together efficiently in a fight. They don’t hold anything against each other for past instances, because right off the bat they both understand that nothing is personal in war, and when they’re finally at a point in the narrative where it’s time to join up, they do so immediately without hesitation.
From a physical standpoint, Jean canonically likes girls with dark hair, and while that in and of itself isn’t enough to say “oh they’re canon because she has black hair”, it does lend to the idea that Pieck may have partially been designed to serve as a potential secondary love interest for Jean, considering that she was originally supposed to be a middle aged man. Even if that change wasn’t intended to open that door, their scene together on Eren’s Titan very clearly pushes a “hey guys this is also a new potential love interest situation so pay attention to these two!!!” Type of agenda that’s really common in this type of storytelling. Pieck herself is portrayed as being inseparable from Porco, who also has a fiery temperament and dirty-blonde hair, and while Porco and Pieck lack the absolutely absurd height difference between her and Jean, we still see her interactions with a male character that has similar traits with Jean. Once Porco dies, Pieck is clearly upset, but then chooses to push forward to fulfill her duty to her fellow warriors (who else in this story chose to follow through to make a difference to honor a comrade that was in one way or another killed because of Reiner???) they’re reflections of the same character traits in different bodies, and they mirror each other incredibly well when they barely even interact onscreen.
But in the parts where they DO interact, I can’t tell you how many shows and movies I’ve seen that have had two side characters that previously didn’t talk much suddenly wind up in a long fight sequence together, and more often than not, it does lead to a character change and emphasized romantic potential by the end of the story. Character blocking in scenes is incredibly important, and when two characters are placed together for a 4-5 minute scene of just the two of them, then the contrast of both their visuals and their personalities is much more noticeable. Then we get into the boat scene, where Pieck is the one to tease Jean about his hair, and he makes just as equally cheeky a response. I do think their time as ambassadors would put them in close quarters very often, and in real life, people fall for each other all the time when they’re together 24/7. I think it was intentional that Pieck was the one to start the banter with Jean to go back on my previous statements, and I think by the end of the story, that’s implied that there’s a good chance the two of them either currently have something going on, or that there’s something that will happen between them eventually. I also like the idea that since they met as adults, and with wildly different life experiences, they could have a lot to learn from each other without years of trauma and baggage that affects their relationship. They’re two entirely separate people that have the potential to become something completely new together as opposed to being together in the shadow of everything that happened to them when they were younger.
Also consider this: incredibly attractive and smug man meets even more attractive and smug woman. Then they have four kids.
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sabrinajenre96 · 3 months ago
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Ride or die
OA Zidan x Reader
⚠️ Content Warning: Violence, Gunfire, Injury, Hostage Situation
This story contains intense action sequences, including a train hijacking, gun violence, and a character sustaining a gunshot wound. If you are sensitive to themes of violence or medical distress, please proceed with caution.
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The steady rhythm of the train gliding along the tracks mixed with the soft hum of conversation. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a golden glow on you and OA as he rested his arm around your shoulders, keeping you snug against his side.
“For someone who’s been ridiculously secretive about this trip, you look pretty damn pleased with yourself,” you teased, tilting your head up to meet OA’s smirk.
“Maybe because I am pleased with myself.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then—because he knew it would make you laugh—one to your nose.
You huffed playfully. “So, you’re really not gonna tell me where we’re going?”
OA grinned, his fingers tracing idle circles on your arm. “Nope.”
“Unbelievable.” You shook your head, but your smile gave you away.
Across from you, a young couple—two men in their late twenties—watched with amused smirks. One of them, the brunette with bright green eyes, leaned forward.
“He’s really making you wait, huh?”
“Oh, he thinks he’s being all mysterious and romantic,” you said, casting OA a pointed look. “Meanwhile, I’m just wondering if we’re headed somewhere chill or if I should’ve packed a bulletproof vest.”
The other man, his boyfriend—a guy with curly dark hair and an easy grin—chuckled. “We had the same argument this morning. He,” he nudged his partner, “refused to tell me where we were going for our anniversary trip. Three years together, and he still pulls this crap.”
The green-eyed man rolled his eyes. “It’s called building anticipation, babe.”
“Yeah? Anticipation’s gonna get you sleeping on the couch when we get back.”
You laughed, nudging OA. “See? You better not be dragging me into some mystery mountain survival situation.”
OA smirked, his warm brown eyes twinkling. “You love a challenge.”
“Not when it involves potential bear attacks, Omar.”
He chuckled and kissed you again, just because he could. The playful banter with the couple continued, interspersed with occasional comments from an older woman a few seats away, who found the whole conversation hilarious. The train ride was peaceful, filled with easy laughter and the kind of stolen moments you rarely got anymore with work and parenting.
Then OA’s body tensed.
His fingers, once lazily tracing your arm, stopped. His gaze sharpened, scanning the train car with quiet intensity.
You felt it immediately. “What is it?” you asked, voice dropping into work mode.
OA didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked to a group of men a few rows ahead—four of them, stiff, scanning the train as if they weren’t passengers but watching passengers.
Something was wrong.
You followed OA’s line of sight, your gut twisting. The men weren’t traveling together, but they moved like a unit. Then, just as your phone buzzed with a message from Maggie confirming Sawyer was safe, one of them stood up.
And pulled a gun.
“Nobody move!”
Screams erupted. People ducked, pressing against their seats, hands raised in submission. The young couple across from you froze, gripping each other’s hands. The older woman nearby clutched her book to her chest.
Instinctively, OA shifted, his body angling protectively in front of you. Your hand slipped discreetly into your pocket, fingers flying over your phone as you sent a single message to Maggie.
Hijacked.
One of the passengers—a guy in his early thirties—panicked and lunged toward the nearest gunman.
“NO!” OA barked, but it was too late.
The hijacker turned, gun swinging up—
OA moved fast, tackling the man before he could fire. You bolted toward the emergency brake, fingers barely brushing the handle when—
BANG.
A fiery, searing pain ripped through your side, knocking you off balance. The force sent you crashing to the floor, a cry wrenching from your throat as you clutched your bleeding side.
OA’s head snapped toward you, his face breaking as he saw you on the ground.
“NO!” His voice was raw, pure panic clawing through him.
A cold barrel pressed against his back before he could move.
“Hands up.”
You forced your head up and saw her—a woman you hadn’t noticed before, her expression unreadable as she aimed a pistol at OA.
The hijackers moved fast. OA was yanked back, his wrists forced behind him as a zip tie tightened around them. Your vision blurred with pain, but through the chaos, you felt OA’s desperation, his frantic need to get to you.
“Stay with me, baby. Just stay with me.”
Your breathing hitched as you forced out a weak, “I’m not going anywhere, idiot.”
One of the hijackers—the one who shot you—paced nervously. He hadn’t expected this. None of them had.
OA pounced on that hesitation.
“You don’t want this to get worse,” he said, his voice steady despite the fire raging inside him. “You shot a federal agent. If you let her bleed out, you’re looking at a death sentence.”
The guy hesitated.
“I can help her,” OA continued. “But you have to let me.”
The gunman clenched his jaw.
“Check my back pocket,” OA ordered. “Go ahead. Check it.”
The man did—and when he pulled out OA’s FBI credentials, his hands shook.
Murmurs rippled through the train car. Passengers started pleading, urging the hijacker to let OA go.
But the woman—the real leader of this operation—watched it all unfold with a calculating gaze.
Then, without hesitation, she turned and shot one of her own men.
A beat of stunned silence.
The hijackers turned on each other.
“What the hell are you doing?!” one of them shouted.
“You think I’m letting you idiots ruin this?” she sneered before locking herself in the control room.
OA took his chance. “You don’t have to die for her plan,” he told the remaining hijackers. “Help me stop this before it’s too late.”
Tension crackled in the air.
Finally—finally—the remaining three hesitated, then nodded.
The plan unfolded in minutes. OA got you and the passengers into the last train car, ready to detach it. But as you staggered toward safety, you turned back, your heart dropping.
OA wasn’t coming with you.
“No. No, no, no, we do this together.”
He cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You need to go.”
You shook your head, gripping his jacket. “You’re not doing this alone.”
His jaw clenched. “Sawyer needs at least one of us—”
Your breath hitched. “Don’t you dare say that. She needs her father, OA.” Your voice cracked. “Come back to me. Promise me.”
His lips ghosted against yours. “I promise.”
With a final look, OA turned and detached the train cars.
And you watched through the window, praying to everything in the world that he would come back.
He did.
But later, as you slept in the hospital, OA crumbled outside your room.
Maggie caught him before he hit the floor, pulling him into a hug.
“She’s okay,” she whispered. “And Sawyer’s waiting for you at home.”
And for the first time since the train ride, OA let himself break.
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valentine-cafe · 6 months ago
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Oh to be a male reader who seems like nothing gets to him, charming and playful, only for your character to find him in a room all teary, and when pressed he just mumbles about the false rumour he thought was true, quiet and defeated and not meeting their eyes,
"are you really going to date <name of person>...?"
(order of: Tiramisu, mango pancakes, revani, key lime pie, rhubarb and strawberry crumble. I understand they're more than the average request so please don't feel pressured to answer❣️)
˖⁺. “ rumour has it ” : 
﹙ multi m. characters x male reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁
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. . . various men x male reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ antihero ˖ immortal ˖ mercenary ˖ god ˖ grim reaper characters ﹚
what happens when the confident, cocky man they know and love ends up in tears over a fake rumour about them?
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﹙ cws ﹚: none!  | wc : 1.2k 
﹙ receipts ﹚: this is soooo sweet we need more content for m readers like thiiiss :((
꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱
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﹙alessio 781. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : a look of confusion would flash before his eyes. had he ever seen you cry? the sight of your tears and the ache of his heart that came with it answered the question.
his mind scrambles for answers. where did the rumour come from? why were you upset over it?
for once his mind decided to click for him. he could practically feel the small lightbulb go off above his head. without a second to waste he advances forward to stand in front of your teary self. hands stuffed into his pockets and his hair catching in the wind of his lean. his tall form casts a shadow over the wooden desk that you sit at.
“now why’d I be on a date with ‘em when we’re going out for milkshake huh?”
your eyes spring wide and the tears halt together. your shaky voice brings a twitch to his brow and he has to restrain himself from pulling you into his arms altogether.
“wh-what - since when -”
“since now. come on pretty boy.”
he’s yanking you up in seconds with that big grin on and affectionate eyes. a large hand cupping your face to stroke a thumb along your cheekbone.
꒰  mercenary ˖ immortal ˖ antihero ˖ punkgoth character  ꒱
﹙rasui 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : it only took one glance from him at you and then out to the hallway of his syndicate. the false flames licking away at the walls as per usual.
what strange rumors. such pathetic way to put someone’s confidence down. and the someone is you, of all people— why would someone do that?
“don’t just stand and look at me like that.” the mumble hits his ear, and immediately a brow raises slowly, creating that little forehead wrinkle that makes his face look ever the more handsome. damn this fire elemental.
“well if you insist.” he chuckles softly.
his hand sweeps across the open door to close it. before the soft, singing sound of his footsteps would pass towards you. head tilted in concerned confusion.
“i’ve never spoken to them about such.” he scoffs, long, brown hair standing blue with flame by the edges.
the small glance at his hair you catch out the corner of your eye indicates well enough his concern for you. tinges of sadness.
“rasui. . .”
“shhh.”
slowly, his hand finds the bottom of your chin, and slowly lifts your head to tilt it. make the saddened eyes of yours meet his fiery gaze, that hold such passion for you. had they always had that? you’d never noticed. . .
“i’d rather not waste my time with the likes of such.” he croons into your ear honestly, pressing a little smooch to your temple gently.
“you have, always, my undivided attention, habibi”
꒰  mercenary leader ˖ fire elemental character  ꒱
﹙haitao 9948e. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : “oh don’t be so solemn dear.” he huffs softly, entering the room properly and drawing the door shut.
“there are no corpses to be mourned in the morgue today, after all. not yet, at least.” ah, humor continues as life goes on.
it is one of the things you find yourself so very fond of with him for. his morbid character oddly endearing in times of dull light.
“I am. . . failing to understand?”
in such confusion would your eyes meet his, as you heard the snort that emerged from his nose. the slightest of eerie laughter creeping out past his lips.
“don’t you wanna be with them instead?”
“no.” he’d answer blunty, smiling widely at you. shrugging casually before grinning at you in the usual, morbid fashion of his.
“i’d rather manage their funeral than do that.”
the bark of laughter that left him as he walked over to you sat your heart aflame, it was warm, a bit of a cacophany as usual but you loved it nontheless.
with a small wink from him, he gently takes your hands in his cold ones.
“you though, gods, you’re worth dancing around with until death.”
꒰  grim reaper ˖ mortician character ꒱
﹙alessio 164. ﹚. . . !! 🍒 : “what? where in the abhorration did you get that idea?”
it is only when the words leave his lips does alessio halt at the sight of your tears. realisation sets in with a sting and for the first time in awhile. . . he feels a hint of regret.
the sorcerer takes a seat beside you. his expression remains ever the same but the change comes with his warm palm on your knee. a small silence settles over the both of you before he pipes up in a quieter voice.
“you should not believe everything you hear, my dear. . .”
one of his knuckles raises to brush away your tears. there is a small tilt of his head with a tender smile to his dark lips.
“why are you so upset?”
you sniffle. the feel of your gut twisting stiffles your words. however with your overwhelm, the hand on your knee and the soft voice from the typically frightful, blunt man. . . they ease out like melted wax. “I. . . because it should. . .”
“should be you?”
you love the way he cups at your face with both hands and steers your eyes to him. love the way his smile assures the throbbing heart of yours. his words are what put it to rest entirely.
“such a bright star you are. . . why would you think my eyes are on any other?”
꒰  sorcerer ˖ corrupt god character ꒱
﹙talisen 164. ﹚. . . !! 🍓 : with such blunt words, delicately and full of softspoken wonder. it drips off of his tongue like wine: “whyever would one put an ear to such bereft opinion?”
of course, your reaction would be to look away in unbridled humiliation. although, it was clear he did not intend to have you feel such way.
“i just. . .” you try, taking in a deep breath, before looking down at your hands. frowning, at the inability to speak.
a long hand finds your shoulder, as the god’s much larger and taller body slumps down next to you in the couch.
“no.” he speaks, and brings your chin into an upwards tilt with one hand. the other drawing you closer to give you a small squeeze on the back.
“no?” you murmur back with a scoff. “what is that supposed to mean?”
“what i have attempted to tell you for long enough. is what it means.” he groans out, the sound almost wilting and blooming the flowers altogether.
“little interest do i find in such fickle creature as the one that claims i am theirs.” he begins. free hand moving to your heart to trace at the area. as he leans close enough for you to see each and every copper speck on his face that shape small crystalline patterns.
“a heart of mine lays beating within your hands, my beloved. it is time you see that.”
꒰  snake god ˖ corrupt god character ꒱
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﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭 
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moonsuke · 2 months ago
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Episode Nagi 33
Lol this chapter has so much typical shonen rivalry composition like thank you knsr for the narusasu-reonagi?? 😭
I'll never stop finding it funny and ironic how reonagi makes a better “duo” when they’re separated, like they're literally more in sync and on the same page than when they’re together lol. Perhaps this is the true alone・together chapter (good ending ver) after all.
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I'm like so hung up on how emotionless Nagi looks here, its borderline unnerving and scary (and kinda sad if you wanna dig deeper) BUT I LOVE IT. His mouth is so small its kinda cute? Scary, beautiful, cool and cute, that's my Nagi! We haven't seen him "scary" since first selection I kinda miss him. He's was such a menace and arguably the most hype and best written "final boss" to date.
And that's why he'll be back as one. Isagi's ultimate foil, let's go.
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And I love that it’s nagi=sasuke and reo=naruto. I know reonagi and narusasu dynamics aren’t exactly similar, mostly because reonagi never really have that rivalry sun/moon yin/yang symbolism going on but when it comes to hot/cold, red/blue I guess they still fit? The second picture kinda have a yin-yang thing going on too. Nagi's aura is black but his heart and character is very pure, while Reo's aura is lighter but inside he has darker thoughts and feelings? That's just me trying to force a yin-yang parallel on them but I honestly don't think they fit that well, unless it’s foreshadowing for the future? 👀 I’ve seen people say it’s reflective of Nagi’s downfall etc but I would think it’s more like the cyclical nature of their progress lol. But I’m mostly of the stance it’s for hype visuals only, knsr seems to like doing that before shit hits the fan. Doesn’t really mean much.
I actually made a lot of mental comparisons between Sasuke and Nagi before, like to understand why are they my favs and why I see them the way I do in their shipping dynamics etc (I only ship them as bottoms) etc. And I’ve always thought reonagi’s kinda like a flipped shonen duo? Like usually Reo would be the typical shonen protag with his red hot fiery passion and energy while Nagi would play the cooler, calmer deuteragonist but for them, the calm one's the protag. It’s like if Sasuke's the protag instead of Naruto lol
I rmb knsr making another narusasu-reonagi comparison before with the kyuubi-susanoo fusion lookalike and I was so insulted then?? I don't even wanna include it here cause they were never narusasu??? Naruto and Sasuke were actually equal rivals but reonagi was toxic codependency with Reo giving up his ideal self (!!!) for Nagi's dream and becoming his passer?? That's the part I was most hung up on honestly (but some shippers like it for some reason, explains why they're also the ones who didn't expect Nagi's "death" even though its so obviously written in the text lmao).
Like you've no idea how glad I'm this current arc ended with Reo scoring and his ego awakening and lusting for goals again. I don't necessarily need him to be a full striker, I just need him to have that hunger for goals back again! And with the way its consistently brought up in both epinagi and bllk that his ideal self is to change in different ways to score goals, I'm confident that's the direction he's growing into. GOOD. I like Reo so much more when he has the “striker mentality”. It's nice to see his Chameleon developing too with him questioning "what is his colour".
Talented learner matches really are very different from Geniuses' ones lol. Ngl, personally I enjoy reading TL matches more. Seeing them actively thinking, predicting, observing and making plays, its more fun than hype moves to me (I'm so sorry this feels sinful to say as a Nagi fan 😭 I love you Nagi your hype moves are still the best and beat all other moments 😭)
-
My absolute favorite parts of this chapter though was all the nicknames Nagi's getting. Little baby? Silver fox-hair (ロマンスグレーボーイ)??? “Romance grey boy” is such a random nickname tho, I know it’s to call out his white hair but still 😭 Maybe Luna’s also half calling Nagi good looking???
And why does everyone Nagi meets keep treating him like a baby chick?? I mean it’s so accurate and I love it but I wanna know what exactly these people are seeing to call a 190cm boy a baby lol. He's even drawn exceptionally baby this chapter 😭
I love it though, keep hammering the Nagi is baby agenda please knsr, just like in bllk too. We know it won't last anyway so let us savor this please 😭 My greatest fear is Nagi changing super drastically during his development honestly. Like please, his personality is what endeared him to his fans, please write him well knsr I'm begging you 😭 You can make him badass and independent but still a cute babychick too right? 😭 I don't want some overly egoistical chad coming back 😭
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Like even his speech is baby. Its not translated over when Nagi says "tell me before you leave" but in Japanese he says 「教えてよバイバイの前にさ」 ("tell me before you say bye bye") which is again... so cute. It's like when he said "let's live in a dream as we say bye bye" in a previous chapter. Why aren't they capturing the cute nuances of Nagi like before?? The translations are so trash these days!!
Anyway, can't wait for him to get wrecked by Loki next chapter lol considering how sus it is he barely appeared much. I need my ultimate genius-genius interaction!! Idky but Loki has always given me the creeps since his first appearance. He's always drawn so unnerving in a predator/hunter vibe and his background is always dark too... Curious.
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I didn't expect Nagi to be interacting with Luna this much instead but I enjoyed it. Lunagi is my new ship :)
Also didn't expect a Rin/Barou kinda speech from Luna lol. Again, flight and bird symbolism. I'm still on the Nagi's gonna gain wings in his aura agenda (delusional). Like no way is this just a "he's currently a baby bird who needs to learn how to fly" reference. And my personal theory for his ego is still "being the one who shines the brightest/feels the most heated up on the field" which can motivate him to do hype moves only he can achieve. But we shall see. He's still being so vague with his ego which is expected since even at NEL he didn't figure it out...
Like Reo's is clearly articulated, his ego is "to shape my destiny with my goals" but for Nagi what he wanna trust in is "to face the world here and now and tear open a new path with this surging emotion"? It feels like he just wanna be immersed in the moment since he's usually so apathetic? I mean it makes sense, I've said this so many times everywhere but Isagi's journey is to learn techniques and logic that can bring out his innate fire to become the number 1 striker, but Nagi? He has all the innate techniques being a genius and all so his journey is to learn how to discover that fire to motivate his genius. So basically his end goal is to feel fired up! Going from death to feeling alive finally!
(Also thanks knsr for the chiginagi crumbs)
About the main manga, I wonder will 299-300 be two chapters of Nagi backstory before its break 🥺 Somehow I’ve doubts we’re getting his backstory here even if I really want it.
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remuswriting · 3 months ago
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THE CRACKS OF MY UNIVERSE; HINATA SHOYO
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Y/N knows he likes Hinata. He just doesn't know how to tell him.
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WORD COUNT: 5,991 words
TAGS: Canon Compliant; Friends to Lovers; Getting Together; Baseball Player! Reader; Not Beta Read
NOTES: This became longer than I meant it to be, but that's a common thing that happens to me. However, it's okay because Hinata deserves more love. Also, this fic was hit with the OC curse where there are OC background characters. Hopefully someone else loves Kumiko, because I find her to be fun.
If there are any spelling/grammar errors, I apologize. I'm just very tired.
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The sunshine is so bright it bounces off of Hinata’s hair, causing it to be a fiery red instead of gentle ginger. Y/N was recruited to practice with him and Kageyama, even though he’s not doing much besides tossing the ball for Kageyama to set. He enjoys being included, though, no matter how many times they make him do it.
“One more time,” Hinata says as he gets the ball and throws it to Y/N, who catches it with ease. He may not be a volleyball player, but he’s played baseball for most of his life. Several university scouts were at Interhigh Prelims. Hopefully, they come to Nationals to watch him.
“You mean a hundred more times,” Y/N says with a small laugh. Hinata flushes somewhat, but it’s hard to know if it’s from being caught or from the sun. Y/N doesn’t care what he’s from; all he cares about is how cute it is. “I don’t mind as long as we get something to eat after.”
Hinata perks up slightly, probably since Y/N isn’t complaining. “Okay! We can do that!”
Y/N chuckles slightly while Kageyama lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Can we go back to practicing?” Kageyama asks, and Hinata looks at Y/N expectantly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N says as he rolls his eyes. “Get into position.”
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Y/N faces the struggle of knowing he likes Hinata and wanting to spend more time with him, because Hinata will spend time with him. He will include Y/N in any plans previously made, even if he doesn’t tell anyone else beforehand. He likes being next to Y/N when it calls for it, and sometimes when it doesn’t. It makes the struggle even worse, because it only encourages these feelings.
Y/N is trying to get to class after going to the bathroom when he runs into Ennoshita. He doesn’t really know him, but they see each other when Y/N and Hinata can walk home together. Ennoshita always gives them a look when it happens, and Y/N hasn’t figured out what it means.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ennoshita-senpai!” Y/N says as he reaches out to grab him to stop him from falling. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Ennoshita catches his balance as he laughs. “No, you’re okay. I was in a rush,” he says as he waves his hand to dismiss it. “Are you okay?”
Y/N nods. “Yeah, just fine. Maybe a little freaked out, but fine.”
“That’s good—not that you’re freaked out, but that you’re fine,” Ennoshita says, and there’s fondness in his eyes. “Can’t have Hinata getting upset if you got hurt.”
There’s a pause as Y/N looks at him. He goes to ask what Ennoshita means, but the bell chimes, and they’re both parting without saying goodbye. Y/N chalks it up to simple teasing since he’s only vaguely connected to the team through Hinata. He’s pretty sure his own captain would act similarly with Hinata, but it’s a little different since his captain knows he likes guys, while Y/N doesn’t even know if Hinata likes guys. It’s never come up in conversation, and Y/N doesn’t want to just bring it up randomly.
“There you are, L/N-kun,” his teacher says when he gets to the room. “I’m assuming you have a good reason for being late?”
He nods. “The line for the bathroom was a mile long.”
Several of his classmates laugh, but his teacher is not amused like they are. However, she doesn’t assign him detention or anything. She just sends him to his desk and starts class. The moment she starts talking about English, he zones out and stares out the window. Because, honestly, when will he ever need to use English? He plans to stay in Japan for the rest of his life.
He thinks back to Ennoshita’s words, and he still doesn’t understand. People say that it’s easier to understand after the fact, but it’s after, and it’s still weird. Maybe it’s best to shrug it off, because what’s the point in worrying over it? All it’ll do is make him anxious and take up too much of his time. That’s how he typically deals with feelings, and it’s worked so far. He’s nearly 18 and life has been fine so far.
Yet he still thinks about how Hinata’s hair had resembled fire last Sunday, and how it’d be an honor to be burned by him.
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Y/N only met Hinata because he was getting tutored by someone in the honor class while Hinata was. They ran into each other in the hallway one day, and Y/N asked if Yachi could help tutor him when Kumiko ended up not being there. It’s still something that happens—tutoring. Hinata goes in there for Yachi while Y/N goes for Kumiko. Small waves from across the room and Kageyama having to tell Hinata to focus. It’s familiar and nice, but Y/N will never say that.
“Did you not pay attention in English again?” Kumiko asks, and she looks over his homework. He presses the side of his face into the desk.
“Is it really that noticeable?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled.
“It’s really that noticeable.”
He looks up to see her stern look that means she may tell Seiji about it, and if she tells Seiji, then he’ll tell coach Y/N needs to study for English instead of practice. He’s done it before, and it was terrible then. It’ll probably be worse now with Nationals coming up. Coach will lecture him until Y/N lies on the field, wishing for death.
“What’s up?” Kumiko asks, and he moves to rest his chin on the desk. “I’m not saying you’re the best at school, but you aren’t usually this bad.”
“Ouch, you know just what to say,” he says, and she gives him a pointed look. “Okay, okay. I’ve just been… caught up in my head.”
She tilts her head, her black hair getting in her face. “Worried about Nationals?”
Y/N shakes his head. “No, never.”
If anything, Inter-high makes the most sense to him. He transferred from Seijoh to Karasuno when his mother lost her job and his father had to relocate for his. Karasuno is objectively cheaper and closer to home. Seijoh was going to pay the tuition, but they don’t have dorms. It just seemed easier to transfer than to commute nearly two hours every day.
“Do you ever like someone so much that it’s confusing?” he asks, and her expression softens as her eyes flicker over to Hinata. He presses his face fully against the desk. “Fuck.”
“No,” she says quickly. “No, don’t worry. I just—I noticed that you’re different with him than everyone else, which is okay. I just…” she pauses. “I just thought you guys were already dating.”
He looks up at her, and her expression is so genuine. “What?”
“As I said, you’re different with him—nicer and affectionate—and he clings to you a lot, so I thought maybe you two were together,” she says, and blush covers her face. “I promise no one else knows unless you said something. It’s just something I look for.”
“Gay guys?” he asks, and she’s scarlet now.
“No.” She bites her bottom lip. “Romance.”
He sighs as he presses his cheek to the desk again. Now he can see Hinata, who keeps glancing at him until they make eye contact. Hinata quickly looks away, ears tinted pink, and Y/N smiles a little. Hinata is so cute, and it pulls at Y/N’s heart a little.
“We’re not together, and I doubt it’ll ever happen,” he says, and it’s easier not looking at Kumiko when he says it. “So please teach me the English I did not pay attention to.”
She sighs, and he knows there’s a sad expression on her face. Kumiko feels so much for everyone, which is how he convinced her to tutor him. He’d rather she only pity that he struggles to concentrate during class than pity his nonexistent love life.
“Alright, but you have to lift your head up first.”
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The issue with Kumiko knowing Y/N and Hinata aren’t dating is that she now tells him to just confess. She does it at the worst times—during practice, while she’s tutoring him, when they’re leaving campus. He’s appreciative that she’s not homophobic, but he also wishes she’d chill out. The baseball team is preparing for Inter-high coming in November, just a little over a month away, so romance is not in the forefront of his mind.
“He looked at you all throughout lunch today,” Kumiko says, and Y/N refrains from hitting her. It’s not good to hit anyone, let alone a girl 12 centimeters shorter than you.
“Because you were being so loud,” he says as he grabs his bat. “Which was embarrassing for you and me.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to see something.”
“See that he’d look if you’re talking to me?” he asks, and she nods. “Maybe next time, try to be quieter to see if it works out.”
“Okay,” she says softly when someone walks past them. “I just think you should tell him. He’s not the kind to be weird about it.”
Y/N looks at her. “And how do you know that? Have you had a meaningful conversation about this with him?” She opens her mouth, but he puts a hand up as he sighs. “I really appreciate that you’re trying to help me, Kumiko-chan. But I can manage on my own.”
Her expression falls, and he feels like an ass for a moment. “It’s just—I think the volleyball team thinks you’re dating. I’ve heard them saying your name, and Hinata-san blushing bright red.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It could, though!” Kumiko says, and her fallen expression brightens up a little. “Just think about it?”
“I won’t,” he says, even though he probably will later.
She laughs a little. “Whatever you say.”
“What are you two doing?” Seiji calls out, closer to the field than they are. “Get your asses to practice.” He squints slightly. “Oh, sorry, Kumiko-chan. Didn’t mean to yell at you.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep going or else I’ll tell Maeda-chan on you.”
Seiji pales at hearing the third year manager’s name before hurrying off to the field. Y/N laughs in his hand, trying to make sure Seiji can’t hear him.
“You’re so mean,” Y/N says, and Kumiko shrugs.
“Maybe he shouldn’t yell at me.”
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Hinata is waiting at the gates when Y/N gets out of practice. His hair is still slightly damp, so he’s not been waiting long. It’s strange, though, to see him standing there with his bike all alone. Y/N picks up his pace to a light jog to get to him faster.
“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” Y/N asks, and Hinata bites his lip.
“Can I walk you home?” Hinata asks instead of answering his question. Y/N stares at him as he slowly nods.
“Uh, sure,” Y/N says, because Hinata has never asked him before. It’s always been them just doing so since it’s on his way. They start walking, the silence slightly suffocating. “Are you okay?”
Hinata looks at him. “What?”
“Are you okay, because usually, right now, you’d be talking about practice or class or your sister.” Y/N looks at him, and how warm Hinata’s eyes knock the breath out of him. “Just—are you okay?”
“Are you dating Kumiko-chan?” Hinata asks, and Y/N’s eyes widen as his mouth opens.
“What?” Y/N asks before blinking, trying to take it in. “Am I dating—what?”
They come to a stop, and Y/N’s teammates will slowly make their way to them in less than five minutes. He doesn’t want any of them overhearing this, because if any of them even said Y/N could possibly be dating Kumiko, Maeda and Seiji would kill him.
“It’s just—you’re always around her,” Hinata says, looking away. “I know she’s tutoring you, but you’ve been sharing food with her, and I saw how close you were with her when you guys were walking to practice.”
“Kumiko-chan is just my friend,” Y/N says, making it sound final. “I could never be with her. That would just be weird since she kinda feels like a sister to me.” Y/N pauses. “Think about it like you dating Yachi-chan.”
Hinata’s nose scrunches slightly. “Yachi is like my best friend. That’d be weird.”
Y/N nods. “Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.” He moves his head to get Hinata to look at him. “Are we good now?”
“Yeah,” he breathes out as he grips the handles of his bike. “We’re good.”
This time, when they start walking again, Hinata fills the silence. He talks about Nishinoya convincing a first year to scream ‘rolling thunder’ and how silly it was. Hinata quickly clarifies that it’s silly when anyone but Nishinoya does it. Y/N only nods, because he knows very little about anything Hinata is telling him.
“Do you like anyone?” Hinata asks, and Y/N looks at him again. They continue walking, and Hinata isn’t looking at him.
“Why?” Y/N asks, which he hates when people do this to him—answer a question with a question, but it’s so bizarre for Hinata to ask.
“Well, I thought you and Kumiko-chan were dating since that's what it looked like, but if you’re not, then what does it look like?”
Y/N likes Hinata, but he doesn’t really treat Hinata much differently than he does anyone else. Maybe he’s a little nicer to him, not teasing him as much, but it’s still the same. He’s never felt like he needs to act differently around those he likes because any special privileges aren’t blaring. He’s more willing to listen to the person and not get annoyed by a conversation going on for too long. That’s probably really the only major privilege if that can be seen as one.
“I don’t know,” Y/N says with a shrug. “I’ve never dated anyone before.”
Hinata looks at him, eyes intense, but neither of them slows their pace. “But have you liked someone?”
Y/N heart stops, and he doesn’t know what to say. There’s lying, which is the easy option, but it’ll feel shitty doing that to Hinata. He’s never been a big fan of lying since his mother has always stressed the importance of honesty. She did it so much when he was younger that she couldn’t scold him too much when he admitted to doing something wrong. He’d been honest, like she taught him to be.
“Yes,” Y/N says slowly. “I have.” Hinata doesn’t say anything. “Have you?”
Hinata looks away from him as he nods a little. “Yeah, I do.”
Then it’s quiet between them as they pass by the volleyball team, who give them looks that Y/N doesn’t fully understand. He thinks about what Kumiko said earlier, but he doesn’t let it hold any actual truth in his chest, because he can’t afford to get his heart broken this close to Inter-High.
“Do I know her?” Hinata asks after they’ve passed his team. Y/N looks at him again. “The person you liked.”
Hinata doesn’t know the other people Y/N has liked. They’re all from Seijoh or junior high, and he doesn’t even remember all of their names. He wonders if one day it’ll be the same with Hinata, but something tells him it won’t be. Hinata isn’t someone who’s easily forgotten.
“No,” Y/N says, because it’s not entirely a lie. It just sits on the boundary of truth and lying. “Do I know the person you like?”
It takes a moment, but Hinata nods a little. “Yeah, you do.”
It’s strange not experiencing Hinata’s bright, cheery self, but Y/N doesn’t push. He’s never been one to push and push until answers are given. It’s not his place. He and Hinata are friends, but they’re not obligated to bear their souls to each other if they don’t want to. But he wants Hinata to right now. He wants to know who Hinata likes, and if Y/N has lost a chance he never even had.
“Who is it then?”
Hinata’s hair is getting longer, framing his face differently, sometimes even covering it. Right now, Y/N can’t see the entirety of him. He can’t see the entirety of Hinata’s expression, even though he needs to. Something claws at the inside of his chest, begging to be freed, so he can see Hinata clearly. See the way his eyes widen or narrow, and how his mouth presses into a firm line or smiles. It’s torturous not seeing those things.
“I can’t tell you,” Hinata finally says after a minute. “I want to, but I can’t.”
“Are you dating her?” Y/N asks as panic creeps up his throat, beginning to come out. “Is it a secret relationship type of thing?”
Hinata looks at him again, and his expression is so unreadable that Y/N forgets for a moment who the boy in front of him is. “No, I’m not dating him. I’m just… I’m just not ready to tell you yet.”
Him.
The word dangles hope in front of Y/N’s face. It also makes his stomach churn with nervousness, because he wants to be who Hinata is talking about. He wants it so bad that the idea of it not being him leaves a bitter taste in his mouth he needs to wash out.
“Oh,” Y/N says before slowly nodding. “Okay.” He pauses. “You know I don’t judge you or anything, right? It’d be a little messed up if I did.”
“It would?” Hinata asks, and they’re standing in the street again. There’s no longer the threat of their teams finding them since they’re too far away for that. Y/N could confess right now without that fear, but there’s more to fear than just the consequences of people finding out his feelings.
“Yeah, since I like guys too.”
It’s quiet for a minute, the breeze making Hinata’s hair sway a little. Y/N shouldn’t be worried, because Hinata just confessed the same thing, but he can’t stop it. His nerves cause his skin to tingle, similar to right before big games. He’s always felt it’s silly to get nervous before games, because it should just be a representative of what you’ve been working on all these months—years. However, he’s never been immune to feelings, just like right now.
“Really?” Hinata asks, and Y/N nods without saying anything else. “So, all of your crushes have been guys?”
Y/N shakes his head. “Not all of them.”
It’s hard to navigate what he’s meant to say right now, because he’s never been open like this. Seiji knowing he likes guys happened because Y/N found Seiji holding the boys’ basketball captain one afternoon. The confession came out once Seiji’s boyfriend left them alone, and then Y/N ended up crying and apologizing. Not his strongest moment, but he doesn’t consider it his weakest either.
Hinata nods a little before gripping the handlebars of his bike. “Let’s get going. Don’t want to miss out on dinner,” he says, and there’s a brightness in his voice that doesn’t entirely reach his eyes.
Y/N nods, though. He doesn’t push, but the desire to only grows. Hinata fills the rest of the way with chatter about school and practice while Y/N asks questions just to hear him talk more.
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“Are you here for me to tutor you or to stare longingly?” Kumiko asks, and Y/N blinks as he looks at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, even though it’s definitely a lie. It’s been hard not looking for Hinata since he walked Y/N home the other night. He may hate lying, but it’s Kumiko, and it’s not too deep.
She gives him an unimpressed look. “So you’re denying that you’ve been giving Hinata-san heart eyes the last three days?”
Y/N rolls his eyes, but the back of his neck heats up. “I’ve not been doing that.” After a moment of silence, Kumiko just staring at him, he speaks quietly, “It’s not that noticeable, right?”
“It’s not,” Kumiko reassures him, which makes it easier to breathe. “But you’re slowly just becoming more and more obvious about it. Keep it up, and he’ll know by the end of the week.”
He looks away from her but stops himself from looking at Hinata, who is wearing a hoodie today. It’s unfair that Hinata looks so cute and Y/N can’t do anything about it but stare helplessly. He considers his staring helpless, because it’s how he feels. He feels helpless to this feeling bubbling up in his stomach, wanting to come out of his throat as word vomit.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’m trying to not be obvious?” he asks, and she hums slightly.
“Yeah, but only because I know you, and this is not your style,” she says, and he looks at her with a tilt of his head. “If you’re about to ask me what I mean, then I mean you’re just direct. You don’t like beating around the bush, even though you do it sometimes, and you don’t like being in conversations that last longer than they’re meant to. It’s why I figured out you like him.”
Y/N stares at her, lips parted slightly. “Oh.”
Kumiko rests her cheek against her palm. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s okay to know who you are and what you want, but it’s also okay not to know.” She pauses. “You’re just in that weird in-between stage right now.”
“And how do I get out of it?”
She shrugs. “I guess either confess or get over it? I don’t know. I’ve never had a crush before. That’s what they do in shoujo manga at least.”
Y/N rolls his eyes, slight annoyance flaring up in his chest. “Very helpful.”
“Hey,” she says, not loud by any means, but louder than she’d been speaking. Thankfully, no one looks their way as she pushes his shoulder slightly, her hair moving with the motion and getting into her face. “You’re the one who came to me.”
“Uh, no,” he says flatly. “You kept asking me, and—”
“I only asked once!”
“Not true! You tried to ask me this morning during practice when I was barely even—”
“No, you’re just lying now!”
“Everything okay, L/N-kun? Kumiko-chan?” Hinata says, and they both look at him. He’s next to their desks, and several people are looking at them now.
Y/N and Kumiko share a look as Y/N nods. “Yeah, doing great,” Y/N says, awkwardness poking at his skin like a knife. “Sorry, we didn’t realize we were getting loud.”
“Yeah,” Kumiko quickly says. “Just caught up in the moment.”
Hinata smiles, and it’s genuine. It’s not awkward or hesitant, and it helps the tension in Y/N’s shoulders seep away a little. The pressure no longer making it impossible to breathe.
“It’s okay,” Hinata says, still smiling and only looking at Y/N. “I was really just coming over here to ask if L/N-kun wanted to walk home together.”
Y/N’s eyes widen slightly before he nods. “Yeah—yeah! That sounds great. Want to meet at the gate?”
Hinata nods. “Yeah, sounds great.” He pauses, just looking at Y/N, before pointing over his shoulder at Yachi. “I’m gonna go back over there to finish tutoring.”
“Okay,” Y/N says, unsure of what else to say. “I’ll just stay here.”
Hinata giggles a little, and Y/N nearly grabs at his chest because of it. He doesn’t know how much of having a crush he can stand, especially when he’s acting like this. It’s not realistic to function like this, because how is he meant to focus on anything with Hinata in front of him?
Y/N watches Hinata walk across the room before he slowly looks at Kumiko, who has a pitying look on her face. He wishes she could just pretend to be blind when he embarrasses himself. It would make everything easier.
His face is already warm, but his cheeks burn. “Just help me with math,” he mumbles.
Kumiko bites her lip, clearly holding back her laughter. “Of course.”
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Hinata is not waiting at the gate but instead, is walking toward the baseball field as practice gets out. He doesn’t have his bike, meaning he wasn’t waiting before coming, which is good. Practice went a little longer than usual, and Y/N hadn’t even thought about Hinata needing to wait.
“L/N!” Hinata says, and Y/N smiles at him, making it easier to feel some of the dirt on his face. He doesn’t always get covered in dirt during practice, but today was different.
“Hinata-kun,” Y/N says as he jogs over to him. “I thought we were meeting at the front gate?”
Hinata nods. “Yeah, but I just wanted to see you sooner.” He pauses, timid. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah!” Y/N blurts. “Of course! It’s just that walking over here is out of your way.”
“It’s okay.” Hinata’s smile is bright. “Doesn’t bother me.”
Y/N’s face feels hot, no longer from overworking himself at practice. Hopefully, he can get away with the idea of it being because of practice. He doesn’t need to experience any more embarrassment than he already has. Lunch was bad enough.
“Just give me a minute to change and everything,” Y/N says, and Hinata simply nods. “I’ll be super quick.”
“Okay,” Hinata says, still smiling. “I’ll wait near your clubroom?”
Y/N nods. “Yeah, great. Sounds great.”
They walk that way together, and Y/N’s teammates keep giving them looks, but they’re not saying anything. Y/N prays they continue to not say anything, because he can’t deal with that right now. He’s too tired and nervous to even start trying to talk about it. Although, if someone says something, he imagines Seiji will shut it down.
Hinata stops a little way from the clubroom, and Kumiko is instantly at Y/N’s side. “Why is he here?”
Here as in walking with Y/N away from the front gate instead of waiting there.
Y/N looks at her with slightly wide eyes and a frantic voice. “I don’t know. Like he just showed up, and I wasn’t prepared for him to just show up. I know practice ran a couple minutes late, but I didn’t think it ran that late.”
“You’re right, 10 minutes isn’t that bad,” she says, and he nods. “Maybe he hadn’t planned on ever actually meeting at the entrance? Maybe he just said that?”
“But why?”
Kumiko simply shrugs, which is incredibly unhelpful. She’s meant to be somewhat helpful right now. Not that she’s been super helpful this entire time.
Y/N shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I need to get cleaned up fast, so he doesn’t wait too long.”
She laughs slightly. “Alright. You do that.”
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Thankfully, no one says anything. It makes it easier to be quick, but he wishes he was quicker when he sees someone talking to Hinata.
Akira.
An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in Y/N’s stomach at the sight. It’s a mutual feeling of dislike that Y/N experiences with Akira. It started at the beginning of the year when Y/N took Akira’s spot, so Akira started trying to sabotage him to get his spot back. The issue is that it’s impossible to get a third year in trouble when you’re just a second year. Sure, Seiji noticed, but their coach doesn’t care.
“So, you’re part of the volleyball team?” Akira asks, and Hinata smiles brightly.
“Yeah! I’m a middle blocker, but I love spiking!” Hinata says, and Akira has the same confused expression that Y/N probably has whenever Hinata talks about volleyball. (However, Hinata doesn’t always understand what Y/N is saying when the discussion of baseball comes up.) “We’re heading to Spring Inter-high in January!”
Akira nods. “We’re going next month.” He has that annoying smirk on his face that Y/N constantly wants to punch off. “First time in a while, thanks to me.”
Hinata’s brows furrow slightly. “But I thought L/N took your spot?” There’s genuine confusion in his voice, and Y/N bites back his laugh. It’s then that Hinata sees Y/N, and he brightens up. “L/N! You’re done!”
Y/N smiles back at him, and that unpleasant feeling in his stomach fades away. “Yeah, sorry for the wait.”
“It’s okay. I was keeping him company,” Akira says, and Hinata’s nose scrunches slightly. Y/N looks back at Hinata.
“Again, sorry for the wait.”
Akira glares at him, and Y/N can hear the beginning of a rant about Y/N being disrespectful on the tip of Akira’s tongue. He loves lecturing Y/N until Y/N is ready to sleep on the ground in front of him.
“It’s alright!” Hinata says, causing both of them to look at him. “Let’s just get going, okay?”
Y/N nods. “Yeah.” He looks at Akira. “Bye, Akira-senpai. See you tomorrow.”
Akira rolls his eyes. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”
It’s when they’re away from Akira that Hinata looks at Y/N again. “Is he always like that?”
Y/N’s brows furrow as he looks at him. “Like what?”
“You know…” Hinata looks away, suddenly shy. “Full of himself?”
Y/N can’t stop himself from snorting, unable to even try to bite his laughter down. “Yeah, he is, especially when it comes to me.”
“Because you became a starter?” Y/N nods. Hinata looks at the ground. “I don’t get that. Last year Kageyama got the starter spot over Sugawara-senpai—the vice captain—but Sugawara-senpai never got upset with Kageyama. He saw how Kageyama was a good fit, which was more important than him being a starter.”
Y/N sighs. “Yeah, well, not everyone is like that, even though that’d make it all easier.” He shakes his head a little. “It’s fine. I’ve gotten used to it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” The words are firm. “It’s not right.”
Y/N pauses, nodding a little. “Thank you, Hinata-kun.”
“Hinata.”
“What?”
Hinata’s gaze is intense, warming Y/N’s face even without him looking at him. “You can call me Hinata.”
“Okay,” Y/N says slowly. “Thank you, Hinata.”
Hinata’s smile is so, so bright. “Of course!”
It’s quiet for a minute, but it’s not awkward. It’s calming and makes it easier for Y/N to breathe just a little. They don’t always need to be talking, which is nice since Y/N isn’t always the most talkative. He can talk more than some people, but he’s fine sitting in silence as much as he’s fine with talking.
“Did Akira-senpai talking to me bother you?” Hinata asks, and Y/N nearly stumbles over his feet.
“What?” Y/N chokes out slightly. He hadn’t thought it was obvious, but maybe it’s more that he doesn't like Akira, and Hinata noticed that.
“You just seemed to not like him talking to me,” Hinata said before imitating Y/N’s previous expression. “You looked all grumpy and like you wanted to tear us apart.”
Y/N clears his throat slightly, avoiding looking at Hinata. “I mean, I don’t really like Akira-senpai all that much, which you know.”
“But it was more than that, right?”
Hinata’s voice is cheeky, and Y/N hates it. He hates that he feels like he’s been caught in something he wasn’t prepared for. Maybe Hinata isn’t referencing any kind of romantic feelings. Maybe he’s just teasing him.
“Uh, I don’t know what you mean,” Y/N says, but it’s awkward and unconvincing. He wants to die right now from embarrassment.
“I think you do,” Hinata says, but his confidence isn’t as strong this time. “Or at least that’s what everyone else is saying.”
Y/N looks at him, and Hinata’s gaze is no longer intense. It’s actually no longer on him, burning his skin. He’s staring at the feet as they walk. He doesn’t look discouraged, but he definitely looks nervous.
“I really don’t know what you mean now,” Y/N says, even though he has an inkling. Playing dumb never hurt anyone too much, though.
Hinata looks at him, unsure but determined. “Do you like me, L/N?” He pauses. “You know, do you like, like me?”
Y/N’s heart completely stops. He’s been caught, and he doesn’t want to lie his way out of his one. Not that he really wants to tell the truth, either. He’s confused whether Hinata is being serious in terms of being interested or if he’s about to make fun of Y/N—not that Y/N thinks he’s that kind of person. He’s just worried.
Y/N pulls Hinata off to the side, they’re nearly to the entrance, but they need to have this conversation before they get too far and are stuck walking the same direction the rest of the way. That doesn’t like utter torture that Y/N can’t stand. He just hopes they can remain friends after this.
“Yes, I do,” Y/N starts before taking a deep breath in, looking away from Hinata. “And I understand if you’re not interested—I would never force that on you—I just hope we can stay friends? I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable at any point as well, because that wasn’t what I was trying to do at all. I’ll even try—”
“I like you too, L/N,” Hinata cuts him off, and Y/N freezes before looking at Hinata with wide eyes.
“You do?”
Hinata nods. “I do, and have for a while, but I couldn’t tell if you liked me, but everyone on the team kept saying you do. Then you said you liked guys, and Noya-senpai told me things he does if he likes someone or things people do to see if someone likes them.”
Y/N blinks. “Today at lunch,” he says slowly. “Was that you trying to see?”
Hinata nods, looking away slightly as his cheeks turn pink. “Yeah, and you were cute! Yachi even said she thought you acted like you like me, so I thought I’d come straight to you after practice.”
“Did you talk to Akira-senpai first?” Y/N asks, and Hinata shakes his head.
“No, he talked to me, but you kinda gave it away when you saw us.”
Y/N slowly nods as he lets a deep breath out, trying to process everything. “So, you like me?”
Hinata looks at him. “Yeah, and you like me.”
“Yeah, I do.” Y/N pauses. “What does this mean?”
“That we like each other?” Hinata asks, and Y/N wonders if that’s stupid for Hinata to say, because it’s not what Y/N meant, but it’s also not false.
“I meant like—are we dating?”
Hinata’s eyes widen comically big, which has Y/N panicking that he said the wrong thing. He doesn’t know if he can survive saying the wrong thing right now. Kumiko will ask him tomorrow what happened, and Y/N will either have to lie his ass off or get harassed by her. He’s unsure which one is worse.
“I mean, we can if you want to,” Hinata says, voice a little softer. “I’d like that.”
Y/N smiles a little. “You do?” Hinata nods. “Me too.”
Hinata’s smile is wide and bright, and Y/N wants to capture it in a photo so he never forgets it. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
They’re quiet for a moment, just smiling at each other. It’s cheesy, and Y/N should feel some level of embarrassment from this, but he can’t find it in himself to. He’s too happy to be embarrassed. Way too happy.
“So, we’re boyfriends?” Y/N asks, and Hinata aggressively nods.
“Yeah! Boyfriends!”
When they hear Y/N’s team making their way there, they both hurry to leave through the entrance. Y/N just doesn’t want to deal with stares or questions, and leaving is just the easiest thing to do right now. Once they get far enough away, Hinata’s fingers reach for Y/N’s at their sides, and Y/N makes the final move to hold hands and intertwine fingers.
Tomorrow, when Kumiko asks what happened, he’ll figure out how to subtly drop the fact that Hinata is his boyfriend—that her suffering as he pined was worth it. Right now, though, he focuses on how warm Hinata’s hand is within his own, and how hard his heart beats from excitement.
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hollybell51 · 2 years ago
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here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.
It's ok - one
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Part two
Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader
Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)
Word count: 4.6K
Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.
Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie
Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!
“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 
“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”
“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 
Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 
He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 
You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 
The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 
You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 
Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 
“Can I see that?” 
Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 
Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 
“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 
Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?
The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 
“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 
“Is (Y/N) with you?” 
“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 
“Are you on the ground?” 
“Yes.” 
“You need to get out of there.” 
Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 
A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 
“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 
Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 
“What?” 
Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 
His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 
“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 
“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 
Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 
Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 
“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 
“She ok?” 
He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 
“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 
“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 
You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 
“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 
“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 
You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 
Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 
“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 
“Ok.” 
It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 
“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 
“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 
“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 
“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 
“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 
“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 
“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 
How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?
“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 
Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 
He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 
“Huh?” 
“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 
“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 
“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 
You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 
“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 
“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 
Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 
“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 
So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 
You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 
“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 
“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 
“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 
“Hm? 
“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 
“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 
“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”
“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 
Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 
You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 
“Unless you have sex. With someone.”
Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 
“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 
“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 
Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 
“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 
“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 
Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…
“Adam?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 
“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 
“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 
Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 
“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 
You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 
He frowned. “Is that…?” 
“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 
That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 
“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 
Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 
“Do you want to have sex with me?” 
“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 
He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 
“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 
You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 
It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.
Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 
He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 
But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.
You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 
“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 
“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 
A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 
You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 
You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 
You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 
Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 
“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 
“Hm?” 
“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 
Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 
Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 
“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 
You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 
“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 
You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 
You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 
Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 
“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”
“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 
“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 
Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 
“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 
Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 
“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 
It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 
After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 
You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 
“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 
Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 
No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 
Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 
“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 
“Ok.” 
Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 
After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 
He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 
Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 
“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 
You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 
He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 
You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower. 
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lilxmoo · 2 months ago
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Aurora Cycle Poetic Essay Series Pt 2 - Scarlett Jones
Part two is here :) my girl was quite hard to write for, but I love her so much more after this!!
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Scarlett Isobel Jones has no mother. Neither does her twin, Tyler. But this is different for her, affects her more than it ever affects Tyler. Because her brother has their father. Tyler Jericho Jones was named after their father - Scarlett, as far as we know, was named after no one. Tyler had an image to lead him. Scarlett had nothing.
This results in Scarlett carving her own identity, away from any pre-perceived expectations. She dyes her hair, she makes her own friends, she finds solace and comfort in men and in her best friend, rather than old photos and medals. Scarlett has no metal ring around her neck, which, as mentioned in part one, represents Jericho Jones' legacy. Instead, she gets her own necklace, telling her to Go with Plan B. Scarlett has her own necklace, telling her to create a second path and follow it, rather than one that was pre-planned.
Surprisingly, her hair dye is symbolic of her carving her own path. Tyler is represented by colors of blue and yellow, sunshine and oceans. Blue eyes, blonde hair, same as Jericho. Scarlett has her blue eyes, connecting her to her family and her brother, a feature of herself that she can never erase, forever showing the bond between her and Tyler. But she has removed that gold. Instead, the bright, fiery red of her hair disguises herself. It is bright enough to distract from her face and her identity, to instead look at the colorful choices she makes. Scarlett builds herself on her actions, rather than her character, and she consistently expects the same of others.
Scarlett is afraid of herself and her roots. She does not feel clever, or helpful, or intelligent. She has deeply hidden insecurities and especially, she feels incredibly inadequate at all the skills Tyler excels at. But her journey follows her finding herself through helping others. Forging her own path through the process of helping those around her and reminding them of what is special about themselves, and her good graces finding her in return. Her constant searching and distraction from what ails her - her lack of "skill" - she tried to remedy through years of feeling connection through men. It is only once she is isolated from that comfort, once her best friend is dead, and once Tyler is gone, Scarlett is forced to look at her path instead of distracting herself from it. And by the end of her story, her mind is not the yellow of Tyler's, or the yellow of the Face logo, or even blue of her eyes, where she was born - it is the fiery red of her own hair, the hair she chose to adorn.
And here is where I list random things I love about my girl :)
Her anger is so clearly coming from love?? She's not bitter like Kal, or spiteful like Cat, every time she gets mad you can just feel the empathy and pain that caused that reaction :(
"Why be normal when you can be interesting instead?"
I know for sure she was in a full face of makeup the whole journey and HELL YEAH THATS MY QUEEN
I said this in another post, but I really love how she's never slut shamed :)
Whenever she does anything, really, I'm that one clip of Lady Gaga saying; "Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before-"
As an older sister myself.....*starts crying*
She never has that super cringe moment of, "I'm a girl, I wear heels, AND I'LL KICK YOUR BUTT" like no!! She's a girl who wears heels and absolutely hates her current situation, and every time she's brave, she absolutely hates it because she's still scared!! So human and much better writing
The way she's a big sister to everyone!!! Zila and Auri are her girls, and she gives Kal the "how to date a girl" talk! So cute
Her response to her Dad's death is so complex and we truly don't discuss it enough :( she's angry at him but she mourns him, she thought the way he died was stupid, but she respects him for it. She doesn't think he was a great man, but she misses her Daddy. My sweet, grieving girl :(
And that's my post for Scarlett!! I hope you like it :) I learnt more about our queen than I thought making this! I hope you don't think I talked about the men in her life too much - I was trying to emphasize her struggle with her identity and how strong those bonds affect her, not their importance over her character :)
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