#zzz Asaba

[bellowbear]

Thank you Hoyoverse for giving us a very wholesome, funny, and a traumatized character :).

[chaewberry]

I GOT HIM AGAIN AND I GOT HIS WEAPON TOO IN TEN PULLS???? LMAOOO ASABA HARUMASA YOU ARE GETTING TOPPED TONIGHT !!!! IM GOING IN UNTIL THE THIRD KNUCKLE AND IM NOT STOPPINGGG

tortured twink asaba harumasa evading my approaches but not for long

[delzinrowe]

I'm not a monster... I'm not...

[lesbosparrow]

He's so silly

[astroshadowdeviant]

Can someone please explain to me what the heck is going on here? Any time I try to search for an explanation I just keep getting standard build and team guides explaining his kit and no mention of this little oddity whatsoever- like I would at least like to know if this is some weird but deliberate exception for Harumasa and if so what that exception specifically is or if this is some kind of glitch that's not supposed to happen.

[marvelously-is-blog]

ɥʇlɐǝɥ uı puɐ ssǝuʞɔıs lıʇu∩

Hi, yes and blue!

Holidays are almost here and y’know what’s here? The I.4 update of ZZZ! We all got a free Harumasa and this one collage is dedicated to him! I have already played his story agent and his music video and my god, never realized that I will main him even if his damage is mid and his kit is complicated. This post is also for the one event to get his avatar frame lol—anyways, that’s it and bye!

Programs I used: Ibispiant, Adobe Lightroom, Picsart.

[sunnbnn]

Meanwhile at section 6...

[creadbrumbs]

pookie

[fukkafyla3]

frothing at the mouth over these chapter cover arts

[bellowbear]

FORGET ABOUT THE 7 DAYS CHALLENGE THINGY (take a break about that).

Head empty... only Harumasa Boo... 😭😭😭

[121231212i]

Harumasa — SECTION 6

[lilac-cat-draws]

Was already planning on pulling him after losing my Lighter 50 50

I wasn't expecting him to be given for FREE and his backstory to utterly destroy me

[dooberific]

❝ 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘠𝘰𝘶 ❞

harumasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: possibly ooc idk, mentions of illness, depression, nonsexual nudity

wc: 1.9k

When Asaba Harumasa sent you a “U up?” text in the wee hours of the morning you didn’t question it.

You simply rolled onto your back, squinting harshly into the light of your phone screen as you typed out a quick response, your arms falling limply at your sides as you willed yourself from the warm embrace of your comforter.

Late night messages didn’t warrant more care on appearance than a wrinkled sweatshirt dragged on over your pajamas and whatever sneakers were conveniently placed by the door, your hair little more than a rat nest knotted on top of your head. You had no fear walking the streets at this hour, especially when you looked as abysmal as you did on such calls, your fear abating further as the fresh scent of rain assaulted your lungs.

Some part of you questioned your choice to not go back for an umbrella as you dodged puddles on the sidewalk, the hood of your sweatshirt now tied ridiculously around your face as if the thin fabric would save you from the impending chill of the rain.

A good ten minutes had passed before you found yourself standing at his door, a trail of water dripping in your wake. You didn’t bother to knock, you were past that point in your relationship by now, simply extending yourself onto your toes as you swiped your fingertips across the top of the door trim until a familiar golden key flipped easily into your palm.

The apartment was quiet as you padded in, wet sneakers in hand. The mess didn’t shock you anymore, the haphazard pile of sneakers and the odd pair of dress shoes a stark contrast to your orderly placement of your own. Piles of jackets, dress shirts, and ties were strewn across every chair in the small kitchenette to accompany the sink full of dishes and the assortment of glasses at various stages of finished that littered the space as well. You grimaced at the gritty feeling of his floor as you ventured in further, stripping off your wet clothes as you went.

“Asaba?” You called, padding down the short hallway towards his room. The door sat slightly ajar, the interior of his bedroom just as dark as the rest of his apartment had been. You rap your knuckles against the door, calling his name again as you push the door open, your shadow splitting the light that spilled in from the hallway.

He didn’t acknowledge you, let alone move from where he sat hunched over on his bed, electrifying eyes dull as he stared blankly out the window. His blankets were strewn wildly across the bed, his sheets barely clinging to the edges of the mattress. You warily eyed the upturned pharmacy bottle on the nightstand, watching your step for stray pills as you picked your way to his bed. You eased up onto the mattress behind him, looping your arms over his shoulders as you rested your chin against the junction of his neck.

The rhythmic tap of the rain mingled with the gentle sound of his breathing and the thumping of your own heart against his back. He was warm in your grasp, his hair tickling your cheek as you rested your weight into his body. On his bad days the best thing you could provide was companionship in his silence, your hands gently running up and down his arms as the rain began to lull your tired mind back to sleep.

“Asaba,” you murmured gently against his ear, feeling his body tense at the tickle of your breath against his skin.

“It’s still you.”

He shuddered in your arms.

When Asaba Harumasa asked you to join him in the shower, you didn’t bat an eye.

You ushered him off the bed in silence, pausing just to fish around in his closet for a suitable change of clothes. His bathroom was cramped to be housing two people, but he didn’t utter a peep of complaint despite all the bumped elbows and the rattle of medication bottles being knocked from the countertop and into the sink as you did your best to arrange the space into something reasonable. He looked more gaunt than you remembered under the harsh white light of the bathroom, cheeks more sunken and eye bags darker. You didn’t bother to ask how many days he had already called out of work for, knowing that it may hurt you more to know how long he had silently endured his illness before deigning it worthy to bother you.

The bathroom steamed quickly once you turned the shower on, the air warm and clammy against your skin as you worked to free you both of your clothes. Embarrassment had long died at the idea of being naked in front of him, making the notion of being pressed flush against him in a tiny standing shower an exceedingly natural thing. The warm water was a welcome feeling as it doused over his back and down your chest, your hands traveling up to run through his dark hair. His shampoo hung sweetly in the air as you worked it into his scalp, a grin pulling at your lips as his pretty lashes fluttered and he leaned into your touch.

The rest of the shower progressed in a similar manner, your hands working soap over the firm planes of his chest and arms and watching as the scars notating years of hollow exploration and management vanish for just a moment under a sheen of bubbles. Your fingers paused just shy of his slender neck, fingertips grazing his clavicle before you retracted your hands. He favored washing his neck himself as you had found out the first time you had bathed together, recalling how harshly he had recoiled at your touch. It was never a topic you chose to breach, assuming it to have something to do with the pinpoint scars that littered his pale skin.

You nearly missed the murmur of your name falling from his lips under the rush of water from the shower head. It was the first thing he had managed since you arrived, his voice husky from his silent struggle for god knows how long. His hands, once firm against your fleshy sides, trailed up your arms to catch your wrists as he guided your own hands to rest against the sides of his neck. He held them there for a moment, thumbs tracing over the backs of your hands in a mindless motion before his eyes drew shut and he leaned into the junction of your shoulder. You felt his neck expand under your fingers as he inhaled deeply, arms sliding down to hang loosely around your waist.

How you managed to finish washing up in such a position may be the real miracle of the night, wincing as you pushed the curtain aside only to be assaulted with cold air before you could reach for one of the towels you had set out. With practiced ease you dried him off, watching his hair begin to bounce back to life under your ministrations. You dressed him before tending to yourself, pulling your own clothes back on before winding your hair up in a towel.

You paused, watching quietly as he stared blankly at his water-warped reflection in the steamed bathroom mirror. “Asaba,” you called, bunching the fabric of your shirt sleeve in your hand as you swiped it across the mirror.

“It’s still you.”

When Asaba Harumasa didn’t ask you to make him a meal, you took it upon yourself to intrude for a moment longer.

He seemed much more comfortable now, lingering just within your personal bubble as you milled around his kitchenette. In terms of groceries things appeared rather grim until you unearthed a couple packs of spicy instant ramen from the back of a cabinet. You made a mental note to work up a list and find something to replenish his cabinets before he fully wasted away, images of fresh meat and veggies dancing in your head as you hummed a mindless tune over the boiling pot you tended on the stove.

You dressed it up as best as you could considering the circumstances, praising your lucky stars as you found some stray utensils from old takeout in one of the drawers. The dishes would be your next battle, but for now stray chopsticks from a local restaurant and the very pot you had cooked in would have to do. You cleared the chairs of his clothes so you could both hunch unceremoniously over the pot, shoulders pressed together as you silently battled each other for whatever caught your fancy.

Asaba Harumasa didn’t have to ask you for help with the dishes, or with the laundry.

He was right there with you, pressed to your side as you gently motivated him alongside your efforts to reclaim his space. He didn’t have to ask you to help him remake his bed, iron his clothes, or pick up the medication spilled all over his floor. You were sure you had heard him mutter “thanks” to you a hundred times already as you milled dutifully around his space with him trailing along behind until you heard the first yawn break his silence.

He didn’t fight when you pushed him back down the hallway to his room and turned the covers over for him, nor when you crawled into bed beside him. The rain had yet to stop, still pattering pleasantly against the window as you scooted closer and rolled to your side to face him, your hair fanning wildly across his pillow.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Your voice came out in a whisper in the dark, the streetlight peeking through the windows just enough to accentuate the warmth in your gaze. He sucked in a breath.

“I would like that.” He breathed, watching your infectious grin dimple your own cheeks.

You drew him closer, pulling his arm over your waist as you draped one of your legs over him. Your hands threaded into his hair, gently massaging his scalp as you pressed his head against your chest.

“Goodnight, Asaba.” You hummed, pressing a kiss against the top of his head, your nose wrinkling as his hair tickled your nose.

His grip around you tightened, drawing you closer as he nestled his face into your neck, breathing in the scent of his soap on your skin.

“Goodnight, (y/n).”

…

When his alarm went off at 6am you didn’t stir, your chest still rising and falling in a steady rhythm even as he untangled your limbs so he could get up.

He was still exhausted, his body feeling like it was laced with lead as he stumbled out of bed and down the hall, his work clothes in tow as the scent of coffee met his nose. You must have set the coffee pot timer when you were reclaiming his kitchen.

He flipped on the bathroom light as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, pausing at the flash of orange on the mirror. A multitude of orange sticky notes decorated its surface ringing his reflection, each adorned with your curling script.

Good morning, sleepyhead!

Looking particularly handsome today~

Intelligent and Funny too!

Productive!

Healthy and vital!

A dapper fellow indeed ;D

He reached out, peeling one of the notes off as he brought it closer, electric eyes dancing over your words as a warmth bloomed in his chest. His eyes flickered up to his reflection, boring into his own visage as he sucked in a breath.

Look! It’s still you.

And for the first time he smiled like he believed it.

Rey ‘24, cross posted to ao3

[pbart86]

Yanagi: The multitasking goddess of Section 6

(Comic by me)

[bunni-v1]

Thoughts on a threesome with Lighter and Harumasa

MDNI!!

Tw: NSFW; VERYYYY OOC lol; double penetration in one hole (only mentioned at the end lol); Rough sex; Fem! Reader; unedited and written with a serious fucking migraine like my god

I’m so fucking sick today but I had an idea so… imagineeeeee with me if you will…

You and Lighter are walking around New Eirdu, picking things up for the girls, running errands, usual shit. It’s a nice little routine thing the two of you have. He gets his job done and gets to spend time with you, win win!

He turns around for one second — literally one second just looking at some flowers (for you, btw) — and when he turns back around your attention is occupied. Not only is it occupied, but it’s taken by Asaba Harumasa. Sweet talking, ever flirty Asaba Harumasa.

He’s not a bad guy, honestly, Lighter doesn’t dislike him. You’d mentioned once or twice how you knew the guy. Some kinda old fuck buddy, it wasn’t anything Lighter cared about too much. You were his partner after all, it would be stupid not to trust you.

Him, though, Lighter didn’t trust him one bit. Not with the subtle touches and the unnecessary flirty comments. He watches you two veryyyy carefully, taking it all in until he can’t take it anymore and he has to pull you into his side.

“Oh! Lighter, fancy seeing you here~” Harumasa purrs in such a sickeningly sweet tone.

He makes it very clear that you and he are and item, but that only seems to egg Haru on further… His little comments getting more and more bold, pointed and intentional in riling him up. You’re stuck in the middle of an ego war that you can’t break up (and have no idea why it’s happening).

Then, somehow, the conversation is steered toward your sex life. No one is really sure how or why, but Harumasa and Lighter are having a literal dick measuring contest in front of you when Harumasa suggests that they should “Find out who you like better.”

Anddd that’s how you ended up with Lighter pounding into your sopping cunt from behind and Harumasa fucking your throat like it was the end of the world. Their little competition forgotten in favor of making you squirm beneath them <3

You’d cum at least four times now and they seemed determined to make a fifth. They alternate what their hands are doing occasionally. Sometimes Harumasa is pulling at your hair, other times Lighter’s squeezing your tits in his hands. Regardless, not an inch of you is left untouched by either of them.

Harumasa pulls out from your throat, and in your fucked out state you try follow him only for Lighter to tug you back by your hair. You don’t even try to fight it when he manhandles you into a sitting position on his lap.

Your pussy is literally drooling down both of your thighs, and Lighter scoops some of it up and tastes it. Harumasa smiles at the sight, seemingly quite satisfied with himself, “Can I have a taste?”

You expect Lighter to maybe let him eat you out, or even just pick up some with his own fingers. Instead he pulls Harumasa forward and kisses him. You can only watch with big empty dazed eyes as they do so. You swear you hear Harumasa moan, but just as you’re getting to enjoy it, they seem to remember you’re there again.

“Feeling left out, baby?” Lighter hums as his fingers find your clit, rubbing fast circles.

Harumasa pushes your legs open, the two of them working to readjust you so your legs are thrown atop Lighters, Haru sliding himself between them. “I think she is, poor thing…”

You most certainly were not, but you weren’t going to say that. Lighter slides out of you, and you literally cry out at the loss of him. “Aww, I told ya she likes it. Look at her cryin’.”

Harumasa laughs dryly, tapping his member against Lighter still moving fingers, “Yeah, yeah, whatever makes you feel more secure.”

You whine at their arguing and they both coo back at you like you’re some kind of pet. They were plotting something sinister, you could feel it in the way Lighter kept pressing the tip of his dick against your ass. Certainly they didn’t expect you to take them both at the same time.

“There’s only one good way to determine who’s the best, right?” Harumasa purrs, nudging Lighter out of the way so he could properly tease your cunt.

“Mhm…” Lighter hums, “You can take both of us at once, right?”

Fuck.

[bardicneedle]

ASABA HARUMASA - CHARACTER DEMO