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#from another realm ━ (ooc)
ccaptain · 15 days
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this has been a long time coming: small starter call! like this post for me to fart out a starter of various length. i will try to keep these short so i don't burn out!
please specify the muse you want to interact with kaeya ( if your blog is multimuse ) and the verse you'd like him from ( i'm big into the h:sr verse right now )!
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falsementor · 2 years
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technically speaking, i COULD give macaque a lego movie verse
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universal-consistant · 6 months
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[thinks about joel and maribelle and melts]
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tornscale · 7 months
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youtube
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soulessjourney · 3 months
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No Time To Die
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Paring: Astarion x fem!TavReader
Word count: 2k
Summary: Astarion and Tav share an intimate moment alone after she is wounded during the battle with Cazador.
Warnings: Little Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, Fluff and lots of it
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The battle with Cazador proved to be no easy feat, particularly when he was determined to have Astarion play a role in his ascension. Astarion stood steadfastly by your side as you confronted Cazador, with your other companions ready for a fight behind you. The moment Astarion was torn away from you, everything blurred into a reddish haze. Astarion's pleas for freedom echoed, while Shadowheart and Wyll urged you to focus on reaching him. You needed no second prompting as you skillfully cut through your adversaries, your attention fixed on the vampire positioned on the opposite side of the room.
Upon reaching Astarion, you extended your hand toward him, only to be abruptly pulled back and thrown to the floor, Astarion tumbling a few feet away from you. "Tav!" Karlach's voice echoed as your gaze caught a blade coming your way. Rolling to the side, you winced at the clash of metal against the marble floors. Rising to your feet, you evaded Cazador's lunges, his eyes filled with madness.
"I will not let you hinder my ascension. Why defend Astarion so fiercely? He's nothing and will never be anything. You're protecting damaged goods," Cazador taunted, his words dripping with venom as he sliced at you, catching your arm. A yelp escaped you, catching Astarion's attention as he raced toward you, stumbling over his feet. Everything unfolded in slow motion as you found yourself on the ground again, your back colliding with a pillar. Astarion had tackled Cazador, but his words were unintelligible amid the growing ringing in your head.
Sitting up, you leaned against the pillar, a sharp pain shooting through your side, eliciting a strangled groan. Looking down, your mouth opened and closed in a silent scream at the sight of Cazador's dagger firmly planted in your side. A gasp emanated from Shadowheart, who dropped to her knees. "Oh gods, Tav," she whispered, her hands hovering over the dagger. The battle played out in her eyes as she deliberated whether to remove the dagger, the odds seemingly against you with its deep implantation in your side.
Astarion did a double take as your face paled, and you slumped further against the pillar. The prospect of your death weighed heavily on you, considering that Astarion would finally be free. However, another realization struck you - he would be left alone, just as he had been for the past two hundred years. The thought of abandoning him in such a manner became unbearable. Your vision began to blur, your eyes focusing on Astarion as he repeatedly stabbed Cazador, his broken screams echoing through the room. He had forsaken his ascension, and some part of you felt a sense of pride. Astarion was giving up something that he knew, deep down, would lead to his destruction.
Letting out another groan, your eyes began to droop shut as you felt Shadowheart shaking you. "Tav, stay with me, do not close your eyes," panic filled her voice. Opening your eyes slowly, you could see the pure horror on Astarion’s face as he stood and stumbled towards you. Your other companions rushed towards you, screaming your name as you descended into a realm of slumber.
----
The atmosphere around the camp was tense. Wyll and Karlach sat by the fire in complete silence, while Gale, Halsin, and Shadowheart were stationed in your tent, working fervently to save your life. At the edge of the camp, Astarion paced, running his fingers through his silver locks. Lae’zel observed her companions before setting down the dagger she was sharpening.
“Pacing and looking so down won’t save her life. If anything, I would say you’re more likely to end it with the amount of brooding you all are doing,” Lae’zel remarked, scanning the individuals in front of her.
Karlach was the first to speak up. “I’m sorry, mate. It’s just that she’s in there alone, fighting for her life, and there’s nothing we can do but hope the other three can save her.” She shifted her eyes to Astarion, who, a few feet away, was still pacing. “I'm also worried about Astarion; he clearly blames himself for what happened to her.”
Lae’zel nodded, letting out a soft hum of agreement. “You say she’s alone, but she is not. Tav has us here waiting for her, does she not?” Lae’zel asked, watching as Karlach looked back towards her and nodded. “Then don’t say she is alone when she is not. As much as she can get on my nerves, Tav is strong, and she wouldn’t let something as small as a dagger take her out of this world. She’s our stubborn leader for a reason.”
Her words were interrupted by Shadowheart and Gale stepping out of the tent, whispering amongst themselves before taking a seat on the log just to the right of Lae’zel. “How is she?” Wyll asked, attempting to keep his voice low, perhaps to prevent Astarion from finding another reason to pace a hole into the ground, if he hadn’t already.
Gale sighed and looked to Shadowheart, who appeared just as defeated. “We did all we can. Now, it’s up to her to finish the fight. Halsin is in there now in case something happens or if she wakes.” Shadowheart gazed toward the tent, her eyes softening. “She’ll wake up. She has to.”
Gale stood up and made his way towards Astarion, stopping just short of him. “It’s not your fault, Astarion. She knew what was going to happen; she took that dagger for you so you could live,” he said, watching as the vampire ceased pacing. “She knew the risks, and she was willing to take them all for you.”
Astarion turned to face Gale slowly, his gaze broken. “What if I lose her? That would just be one more person that Cazador took from me. Even from the dead, he wants me to suffer like I always have,” he spat, balling his hands into fists. “She has to live, Gale. Not just for me but for all of us. We are so close to winning this war; we can’t lose her now.” Astarion felt like he was losing his mind. He had given up ascension for you, his one true love, and now you were knocking on death’s door.
“Have faith in her, Astarion. When have you known her to simply give up? Tav would fight the Netherbrain blind if she had to. She has taken on an entire goblin camp just to save that owlbear, and she saved an entire camp from an attack, all because that’s who she is. She wears her heart on her sleeve, but a fighter like that is as strong as they come. We have been traveling nonstop for days and fighting along the way; she’s burnt out, and the injury was no help. All she needs is rest, Astarion,” Gale said, turning to walk away. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder. “Out of both of us, she chose you to love, and as hurt and betrayed as I may feel, doesn’t that mean something? She’s not going easily, so go stay with her, hold her hand until she wakes,” he said before walking off to join the others.
---
After a lengthy conversation with Halsin, Astarion found himself kneeling next to you. He had successfully convinced Halsin to leave the tent, reassuring him that he would fetch him once you woke or if something went wrong. Holding your hand tightly, Astarion looked down at you, observing the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. You looked so peaceful, but he despised how quiet you were now. Much as he would never admit it to you, your bickering with Karlach and Shadowheart kept things interesting for him. The way you would joke around with Gale or Wyll, and even crack some horribly made jokes in an attempt to make Lae’zel smile, was something he adored about you. You were more than just a group-appointed leader; you were someone who brought joy into his miserable life. You were his best friend, his lifeline even.
Reaching down, Astarion brushed a strand of hair from your face with a sigh. Gale was right; you were burnt out. These past few weeks felt like endless fighting or traveling. You were always the first to jump to your group's aid in battle, and even when injured, you made sure to check on each and every one of them. He should have noticed just how off you seemed after your fight with Ketheric Thorm. You appeared drained, but he chalked it off as mere fatigue after battling a literal god. Although that was true, looking back, you had changed slightly afterward. You weren’t as quick to block attacks in fights, and you seemed slower when walking. Something about that fight took everything out of you, but Astarion, being Astarion, kept pushing everyone, including you, to reach the city. He was so desperate to reach the city that he became blind to how tired you were. Then the fight with Cazador happened. You had barely had time to react before his dagger found its way into your side, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t pushed you and allowed everyone to rest, you wouldn’t be in this position right now, covered in sweat and fighting for your life.
Reaching down and gently squeezing your hand, he felt his frown deepen. “You know, Darling, this isn’t fair. You finally gave me something to care about, just for you to end up like this. I may not have a true beating heart, but sometimes you make me feel as if it is truly beating. I don’t know how you did it, but it’s truly terrifying, Darling,” he said quietly. It was true; this new feeling he had towards you terrified him. For two hundred years, he had never had someone he truly cared about, and he had never had someone show him as much love as you had.
Astarion hated confessing his feelings to you, terrified that he would lose you forever after admitting he was using you, especially when you were so gentle and honest with him. But you were never angry. Instead, you were understanding and supportive of his concerns. It was when he received his first hug from you, and later on that evening, his first kiss from someone real. You were so real to him, and he would burn down the entire city if it meant protecting the one real thing in his life.
Smoothing back your hair, he leans down, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the twitch of your hand or the change in your breathing. "Don’t tell me you’re getting all sentimental on me, Astarion. I would be the one thinking something happened to you," you grumble, keeping your eyes closed and relishing the feeling of his lips against your forehead. A strangled laugh escapes you at the way he tenses before pulling away.
As he looks down at you, you notice how his red orbs seem to glisten, on the verge of tears. Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze, and a small warm smile spreads across your lips. "How long—" "Long enough to hear just the tail end of what you said," you shrug, shifting to sit up. Astarion is quick to help you, turning his head as if he's about to yell something, and that's when it hits you. "Astarion, if you call Halsin in here right now, I will send a stake through you."
Astarion can't help but let out a surprised laugh at your words and the way your eyes narrow into a teasing glare. Reaching up, he caresses your cheek gently and nods. "Then Halsin can wait, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you. You’re everything, Darling. I won’t let anything harm you ever again," he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours gently.
Leaning your forehead against his, your smile only grows at his words. "Then I guess the feeling is mutual. I will protect you even if it means I have to kill Cazador and take a dagger to the side a million times over. For you, I’d do anything." With that, you press your lips to his in a silent promise. In other worlds, Astarion may be the one protecting you with everything he has, but in this one, you’d ruin yourself just to see his smile.
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heavenlyvision · 5 months
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Bare
Word count: 9.3k
Pairing: Liu Kang x F!Reader
A/N: This is a bit different to my other works so far, at least it feels different! I am stoked about the people who encouraged me to write this!! You guys have been the kindest to interact with and really encourage me to keep writing <33 (P.S. If you're having trouble picturing the position in the smut scene, it’s pretty close to the full nelson, hopefully you can picture it with just my description though 😅😅)
Summary:  Through a series of unfortunate events, you find yourself befriending a God and making his life more difficult, it’s just a bonus that he’s friendly, kind, and really hot.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, fingering, grinding, p in v sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, dirty talk, Liu Kang might be a little ooc and I am sorry but he’s hot and I had to write for him.
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Living in the temple with Liu Kang is an odd feeling, you’ve been here for a while now, but you still feel out of place. Maybe because there isn’t any real reason that you’re here, you know he has plans and is a Fire God and something about a tournament with another realm, but you don’t fit in to any of that. You’re just some person he felt bad for after making friends with and is now allowing you to stay in his temple????
To be fair, he didn’t really befriend you, he asked if you were okay and then you held him verbally hostage. He looked friendly and so you started talking to him, something you would usually be too reserved to do. Having conversations with strangers isn’t something you’re in the habit of, and you especially don’t start them, but you’d had a series of unfortunate events happen to you in the course of a week and he looked nice. You think he was too polite to ask you to stop talking to him, but he eventually engaged in the conversation.
It was a little cafe not far from where you used to live, Liu Kang had been there by chance, he tells you now that there was something he had to take care of in that area, but he kept coming back after that first encounter. Every time you were there, he was also there, and he listened to you.
When you first met and spoke with Liu Kang you complained about how your partner broke up with you but actually he was cheating on you and had been for months, so you had to leave his apartment, which was originally yours before you were both on the lease. But you didn’t leave by choice, he locked you out and left your stuff in front of the building, which obviously, some of it was missing.
Whether he kept it or if some of it was taken by strangers you aren’t sure, but it sucks either way, you didn’t tell Liu Kang that last thing at the time though. Being kicked out of your own apartment and cheated on was embarrassing enough, he didn’t need to know you were also robbed.  
While visiting that café everyday hoping to see Liu Kang, your personal circumstances kept getting worse, you didn’t keep bombarding him with your issues though. He was nice and funny in a polite way, and he was becoming a friend to you. So, you didn’t say anything to him but the friend you had been staying with turned out to be who your partner was cheating on you with, so you had to rush to find another place to stay, which you managed. And things would’ve been okay from there if you hadn’t lost your job due to cutbacks in that same week, so not only were you living off your quickly depleting savings, you were also trying to find a job, while living in a shitty, tiny apartment, an apartment where, if you had all your furniture, you wouldn’t be able to see the floor.
The only thing you looked forward to were the afternoons in that café talking to and getting to know Liu Kang. It was unfortunate luck when your ex-friend and ex-partner walked in and saw you talking with him. They didn’t mind their own business, and that was how Liu Kang had found out how much worse things had gotten for you in the few months you had been meeting with him.
After he learned about the extent of things he brought up living with him at the temple, he said it would be more for him than for you, claiming to need help and that you were perfect for it. But you knew he didn’t really need any help; he’s a literal God and you’re just a person. So, you kept declining, he’d bring it up once a month and you would tell him no every month, determined to make things work for yourself.
But eventually, you were fed up with all the dead-end jobs and being dismissed after only a few weeks, you were looking down the barrel of eviction and you caved, asking Liu Kang for help. Something he was more than happy to provide.
It felt odd, making friends with a stranger, only to find out he was a God and then that God feeling so bad for you that he offers to make your life easier by letting you live with him at his temple. You can’t help but feel pitiful about giving up all your responsibilities and running away but there wasn’t anything left for you in that city.
Staying by Liu Kang’s side has introduced you to so much beauty, it’s expanded your small world, and you don’t feel even a little bit of regret for leaving, not anymore. Though you still feel out of place, your heart is at peace.
Currently, you’re drinking tea with Liu Kang, it’s something you two do every afternoon and it reminds you of the café. Even though he’s busy, he always has tea with you, every afternoon.
Conversing with him always starts the same way, you say something completely random or make an observation and he sighs at your inability to sit in silence for more than a minute at a time.
“You know, I think he still has my favourite book.” You say in reference to your ex.
There’s a book you owned, and it was a classic, not worth anything, but you had annotated it to high hell and the love you have for it is shown in your scribblings and all the sticky notes. It’s something you immediately noticed was missing but never said anything about.
He has a confused look on his face, “What? Why didn’t you ask for it back?”
“He’d just say that I lost it, or that it got stolen when he left my boxes outside the apartment,” You shrug at him.
“He… left your belongings… outside of the apartment, where strangers could rifle through them… and steal from you?” He questions, his tone is calm but the pauses in his sentence display contempt.
“Did I not tell you that?” You wonder.
He’s looking at you, eyes squinting, scrutinising you and trying to determine if you were purposefully keeping that from him, “No… you have not mentioned it.”
In all honesty, you thought you had already told him that. You aren’t trying to hide it anymore, it’s already done. You just feel a bit sad about your favourite book, you’ve been wanting to reread it lately and you like reading the notes you’ve made previously as you do.
“I was just thinking about the book, it was annotated,” you sigh.
“I can take you to go get it, if you’d like?” He offers.
“He probably won’t even admit to having it, let alone give it back but thank you.” You offer him a smile, he’s always so kind to you, a gentle God.
He considers you for a moment, “I have some books, if you’d like to read them.”
“I found your library months ago, read a bunch of them but it isn’t the same.” You appreciate his suggestion, but other books can’t compare.
He sips at his tea, before saying, “You’re picky.”
“No, it’s just that I cultivated that book with all my thoughts and feelings on the story and now it’s gone,” you huff out.
Liu Kang frowns a bit, thinking about your words, “I do not like him.”
“Neither,” you laugh, “You know, he wasn’t even worth it, never made me org–” you stop abruptly, realising what you were about to say… to a God, “Uhm what I actually mean is, he was a… bad partner, not… attentive?” It comes out like a question, but you aren’t asking anything.
He chuckles and shakes his head at you; he always seems to find you amusing, “That’s a shame,” he mutters.
You want to question him on what he means but he speaks again, “Why did you stay with him?”
“After a while, I felt… trapped,” you sigh, “He was kinder in the beginning of our relationship, but he grew colder, meaner, he didn’t talk to me… he didn’t like talking to me, always saying I talk too much,” you give him a wry smile.
He hums, “I like listening to you.”
You feel flush at his words, he does this sometimes, says something innocuous without realising how the kind words have you falling for him. But, it’s a feeling you don’t let yourself indulge in, for a number of reasons but mostly because you feel unremarkable compared to him. You feel small and your feelings feel unimportant, so you don’t entertain them, not wanting them to grow stronger with nowhere to put them down. He makes it hard though.
“I like talking to you,” you reply.
Relationships aren’t something you’ve had much success in, your only one that lasted longer than a couple weeks being the one where you lost your apartment, belongings, friend, etc etc.
“I sometimes wonder if he ever loved me,” you confess to Liu Kang.
You stayed out of obligation and convenience, leaving was too much effort, but why did he stay for so long, only to do what he did. Sometimes you feel sick thinking about it, because if he never showed you love then what does it look like? And are you capable of recognising it in someone else? In yourself?
He puts a hand on your shoulder, “I can hear you thinking from here, stop it.”
“You can hear thoughts??” You’re a little worried as you say it.
He restrains himself from rolling his eyes at you, “Not what I meant; I cannot actually hear your thoughts.”
“Oh thank god, don’t say things like that.” You place a hand over your beating heart.
“Why would I be able to read minds?” He queries.
“I dunno, you’re a God, you can’t say stuff like that, I’ll take you literally,”
He hums, “Noted.”
Both of you sit in the silence, normally you would say something else but for once you’re a little lost for words. Still wondering if you’ve ever been loved, properly. An ache fills your heart, and you aren’t really sure what it means.
Liu Kang’s grip squeezes on your shoulder, drawing your attention back to him, “If he never loved you, then he is a fool.”
And there it is again, something meant as comfort said so tenderly to you that your heart feels like it might implode.
“Thank you,” you say, hand coming up to rest on top of his.
He looks deep in thought for a moment, “I think you should learn self-defence.”
It’s abrupt, the way he brings it up, you pull your hand away and turn so you’re facing him properly, “Why?”
“I think I would feel better about you being a part of this world, if you could defend yourself.”
You consider his words, your lips pouting in thought, “I’d rather not.”
His response is to frown at you, “Why not?”
“I’d rather not, just ‘cause I don’t wanna have strangers train me or whatever, don’t like the idea of being touched by them,” you say it flippantly, waving a hand as you do.
You know he would want to take you to that academy or have someone specifically train you, but you aren’t fond of strangers, and you especially don’t like the idea of their hands positioning you and such, it’s a very uncomfortable idea.
Your face must be betraying how much you dislike the idea, “Stop making that face,” Liu Kang sighs.
“Sorry,” your face drops into a neutral expression, you hadn’t realised you were making one.
“Things are going to pick up soon, I would feel better if you’d consider it.”
You frown again, this time on purpose.
He looks into your eyes, it feels like he’s trying to stare you down, “That won’t work, I don’t like being touched,” you remark.
He raises a brow at you, “You let me touch you.”
You look away from him and mumble, “That’s different.”
“How?” He inquires.
How nosey of him, “It just is…” you shrug at him.
“What if I teach you self-defence?”
You look back to him, “Maybe.”
If you had a choice, you’d rather not be taught any kind of self-defence, but you guess if it’s Liu Kang teaching you, you could be amicable to that, eventually.
Both his brows raise, “Are you going to make this difficult for me?”
You repeat your previous answer, sly smile on your lips, “Maybe…”
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It’s been almost a full week since that conversation with Liu Kang, you keep putting off training with him. He’s a patient man but you think you’re slowly chipping away at it. His concern for you growing the more you put it off.
You understand that things will be changing soon, with his champions and what not, but he keeps you fairly separate from all that anyways. You know of the Lin Kuei and their involvement, along with the brothers but you’ve not met them, and he’s not asked you to. So, you aren’t really sure why he’s become so caught up on getting you some kind of training.
It’s late in the evening and you’re walking to the library, which maybe you shouldn’t be, but you feel the need to read something. Get your mind off of everything that’s been happening. Maybe you’ll find a new favourite book and annotate that.
But because you have the luck of someone who’s broken a mirror every day, it starts bucketing down rain. Usually, you enjoy rainy weather and a good book, but this isn’t that. You’re walking the temple grounds one minute and the next you’re fully drenched, down to the bone. Clothes soggy, shoes filled with water, and to top it off, the torrential downpour is making your visibility awful. You can’t make heads or tails with all this rain; it would probably be just as bad even if it wasn’t dark out.
Just your luck, there isn’t much you can do but stumble blindly through the grounds, hoping you’re going the right way. But predictably, that is not a good idea, you’re about as wet as a person can be, shaking from the cold breeze, you need to find shelter somewhere soon.
Some of the buildings are recognisable, you think? You can’t really be sure, but you think you recognise the building Liu Kang resides in. Hobbling up to the door, you knock on it, hoping that some higher power takes pity on you and that Liu Kang is home… and also awake.
And wouldn’t you know it, he’s not home, the only solution you can think of is to sit under the small shelter surrounding the building, to at least prevent yourself from getting any more wet, not that that’s even possible at this point.
The rain doesn’t stop, the rate at which it’s coming unchanging. Spending all night here is not a feasible option, sadly, you will have to move again and hope you find your own quarters or somewhere open you can tuck into. It’d be embarrassing to sleep on Liu Kang’s doorstep only for him to trip over you in the morning.
You decide to try knocking one last time, maybe he didn’t hear you. Wrapping your knuckles against his front door, you knock harder, wishing for him to be home and that your first knocks went unheard.
Waiting a moment before you give up, he’s obviously out doing some God business or whatever, you don’t really question his movements. Turning your back to his door, you look out at the rain, working yourself up to going back out into it.
Just as you step out into it again, you feel a hand grab your upper arm and pull you back, bending your head back to look up, you realise it’s Liu Kang and a relived smile breaks out across your face. You turn around to face him properly and he lets go of your arm.
The look on his face is one of complete confusion, “What are you doing out in this rain?”
“I was looking for the library but then it started raining… and I got lost but I recognised your building, and I knocked a couple times, but I thought you were out, so I was gonna look for somewhere else to try and get warm.” You’re shaking like a leaf in front of him, teeth chattering as you talk.
He frowns at you and grabs you again, pulling you inside. The escape from the unforgiving wind is very welcome to you.
“Why were you out this late to begin with?” His eyes are firm as he looks at you.
You look away from him, feeling like you’re being scolded, “I… wanted to read a book… can’t stop thinking and I can’t sleep.”
You’re standing in front of him and staring at the floor below you, still shivering involuntarily, a puddle of water being created on the wood, “Do you have a towel, your floors getting wet.” Your head nodding downwards to the puddle.
“I am not worried about my floors,” he sighs, “Come with me.”
You shuffle down the hall after him, you feel like a wet cat who got caught outside when they’re meant to be inside. There’s a trail of water droplets trailing after you, you feel bad getting his floors all wet, you’ll have to remember to clean up for him.
Following behind, you properly look at him and notice his upper half is bare, only in pants for bed, you can’t help but stare at his large frame and muscular back. It’s a very human display, for him to be shirtless and in sleep pants, his hair down, he looks good, but he always looks good. You feel like a silly mess.
He leads you into his bathroom and hands you a clean towel, “Have a shower, get warm.”
You stand there looking at him for a moment, “What will I wear?”
Liu Kang walks past you and further down the hall, you briefly wonder if you’re meant to follow him or start showering. You decide to pull off your jacket and slip out of your shoes while waiting.
His footsteps are coming back towards you, “Here,” he offers you some of his clothes.
You think about whether the shirt would even close, he’s always wearing shirts that show his chest and they don’t exactly look like they’d offer you any modesty, even if you do it up. You unfold the shirt and you’re thankful to see it will, in fact cover you.
“Something wrong?” He asks.
Shaking your head at him, you say, “No, I was just wondering if you gave me one of those shirts that doesn’t actually close properly.”
He sighs at you, “Have a shower, then we will talk.”
You drop the shirt down from in front of you to look at him but he’s already walking away and shutting the door behind him.
The showers heat is what you imagine heaven feels like, or maybe getting really high. Muscles that you hadn’t even realised were tensed finally relax and you feel like you could melt into a puddle on the shower floor. You hadn’t noticed just how cold you were, if you had stayed out all night you might’ve actually turned into a popsicle.
After you’ve washed and dried yourself off, you look at Liu Kang’s clothes, he gave you pants but you’re worried they won’t fit. Which is troublesome because you can’t put on your wet underwear, not unless you wanna squirm in place all evening.
Closing your eyes, you huff out a sigh, considering your options. Telling him that you have no underwear is a mortifying thought. So, you pull his shirt on and do up the buttons, it comes down pretty far on your body, which shouldn’t be shocking; he is a large man but seeing it come more than halfway down your thighs makes you remember the size difference.
Considering how far it comes down on you, you wonder if you even have to say anything. You decide it might be better not to say anything, the risk of whatever conversation would ensue undoubtedly would embarrass you to death.
Which, before you met Liu Kang, you never really got all that embarrassed but the effect he has on you makes you feel self-conscious of all your choices and little mannerisms.
Padding down his hallway, you meet him in his living area, he’s sitting on his lounge. Rounding it, you hold onto the hem of his shirt, you feel nervous; like he’s about to give you the ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’ talk. It always worked on you as a kid, it’d probably work now too.
When he looks up to you, his eyes skate up your body slowly before he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong with the pants?”
“Don’t fit,” you mumble.
He nods at you, and you go to sit next to him.
“You smell like me,” he notes.
You had noticed that, his scent is overwhelming you, making you feel warm.
You change the subject, “Thank you, for the shirt and shower... and for letting me in.”
He looks concerned, “Why would I not let you in?”
You shrug at him, you aren’t really sure why you said it, maybe it’s the being locked out of your own apartment memories haunting you again. You fidget in your seat a bit, uncomfortable from both not wearing underwear and this conversation.
You change the subject, “Do you have a mop or another towel, I can dry your floors.”
He shakes his head at you, “You do not need to do that, I’ve already done it.”
He readjusts his position, moving to the side, one leg crossed on the couch and an arm coming up to rest on the back of the couch. He’s facing you completely now, you’re sitting forward with your knees touching, looking into your lap and toying with the hem of his shirt, conscious of the fact you aren’t wearing underwear.
“I would have done it,” you mutter.
“I know, that is why I did it first.”
You don’t say anything, which is out of character and it’s starting to concern Liu Kang.
“What were you going to do tonight? If I hadn’t answered my door,” he questions you, his tone concerned.
Your lips pout and you look away to the side, staring at his now very interesting wall.
“I dunno, I mean, I was planning to go back out and try and find my place or somewhere else warm at least, I wasn’t just gonna sit on your doorstep all night,” you shrug, still not facing him.
The couch cushions move as he shuffles a little closer, “That would have been reckless, your lips were almost blue before, you need to have more concern for your wellbeing.”
“I care about myself,” you turn to look at him, he had moved closer than you expected, you stumble over yourself a bit at his proximity, “…I do care, I didn’t know what to do and I made the best choice in that moment, it’s not like I wanted to go back into the rain… I knocked again… just in case you didn’t hear the first time…”
He looks at you intensely, it’s making you nervous and you look away from him, eyes turning downwards to your lap again, legs rubbing against each other as you continue to squirm.
“Look at me,” he says gently, you turn your head to look at him properly, he continues, “I am so aware of how human you are, and I worry about your safety because of it, you do not inspire confidence in me when you do stuff like this.”
“I think you’re taking this too seriously; I didn’t know it was going to rain and–”
“–That is not my only concern,” he gives you a pointed look.
“And we are back on this?” You ask.
He nods in response.
A deep sigh is pushed out of you, “You know, you are quite persistent… pushy even.”
“If you give in now, it would save us a lot of time,” he replies, making his stance clear, this is not something he is willing to compromise on. At least, not any more than he already has.
“I don’t understand why you want me to do this so bad? You’ve kept me separate from everything so far, so why would I need any kind of training?”
“For my peace of mind,” he says, rather abruptly.
Taking a deep breath in you let it all out at once, “You really aren’t going to let this go?” You ask, double checking.
“No,” he confirms.
“Then… I suppose… I will allow you to train me,” you huff, you’d cross your arms, but you’re worried about his shirt riding up your thighs.
He lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.”
You hum noncommittally, “This is such an unlucky night for me.”
He chuckles at you while getting up from the couch, “I am going to put some tea on, can you watch it?”
“Yeah,” you also get up from the couch and follow him to his kitchen.
Opening cupboards, he pulls out everything and puts the kettle on, then he wanders down the hallway leaving you to watch it. You don’t really know what he’s gone off to do, you’re a little peeved that you’ll have to be training for a possible threat, not even a tangible one. Plus you think he’s not telling you everything, but he seems to be a bit touchy right now, so you won’t push it.
Especially since you seem to be the reason why he’s being a bit short. But everything that happened tonight was just a series of unfortunate events, which at this point is par for the course for you. You don’t want to try and argue your case again though because, well, you were walking around an area you aren’t completely familiar with in the middle of the night, so you might be a little in the wrong.
Mindlessly, you watch the kettle, it feels a little ironic considering that old phrase, ‘a watched pot never boils’. From behind you, Liu Kang’s footsteps stop, you turn around to look at him.
“What were you doing?” You ask him, before you realise he’s holding all your wet clothes, including your underwear, the underwear that you are currently not wearing. Underwear that you should be wearing.
“What are you wearing underneath my shirt?” His gaze is even, unreadable.
“Uhm, well… like, r-right now?” You ask for clarification, your eyes wide.
“Yes, right now,” his tone is equally unreadable.
You suck on your teeth uncomfortably, “Well, right now… in this moment… I guess… nothing.”
“Right, thought so, considering I found these,” he holds out your underwear with one finger, showing them to you, “amongst all your other clothes.”
“Okayyyy, but you see…your pants didn’t fit and well, I didn’t want to put on wet underwear…” you avert your eyes from his, feeling exposed, “so, I decided, not to wear any…” You trail off, not really sure where to go from here.
He hums at you in understanding, “So, while I was telling you to care more for yourself…you were sitting on my couch, squirming because you chose to forgo underwear, is that right?”
You look upwards, feigning deep thought, “Mhm, pretty much, yeah…but I wouldn’t say I was squirming.”
“You were squirming, I thought it was because the conversation was uncomfortable.” He retorts.
“Well, it was…just in multiple ways,” you smile innocently at him, “Uhm, can I have those?”
“Are you going to put them on?” He asks.
You nod at him, “I was considering it, wearing wet panties has to feel better than this.”
His eyes close momentarily at your words, he intakes a breath. You feel ashamed to admit that this conversation is working you up, it would probably be for the best if you cover yourself properly.
Walking over to him you go to grab your underwear, but as you reach up to pluck them from his hand, he reaches further up. Not completely out of arm’s length but if you do reach up, you would be exposing yourself completely.
“That’s not nice,” you huff.
“It isn’t nice showing up on my doorstep just to get into my clothes and then sit on my couch with nothing underneath them.” His eyes are full of mirth.
“Can I just have my underwear…please?”
He pretends to be in deep thought, mimicking you from earlier, “Do you really want to put on wet underwear?”
“…Yes.” No. You don’t really want to, but not wearing underwear around someone who knows you aren’t wearing any is…horrifyingly revealing.
“So, you were fine not wearing any underwear when I didn’t know, but now you’d rather be uncomfortable in wet panties, instead of being bare?”
“You’re asking me too many questions,” you’re frowning at him, but he doesn’t seem to find it menacing, his eyes still playful.
“You normally enjoy talking,” he jests.
A scowl is pulling at you lips, “Liu can you please just,” you look away and huff, “give me my underwear,” you mumble it out.
“Is there a specific reason that you need them now?” His implication is heavy, and you are not admitting to anything, you’d sooner die.
Rolling your eyes at him, you grab your clothes from his other hand and walk over to his dining table. You place them over the back of his chairs, so they have the chance to dry.
He shows mercy and moves to you to give you your underwear. As you hold them you make a face of displeasure, they’re soaked still, and you really don’t want to put them on.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow raising.
“Nothing,” you lie.
He pushes, “Put them on then.”
This situation is too much for you, this side of Liu Kang paired with his bare skin is making you dizzy, your pussy getting wetter by the second. It’s incredibly embarrassing that, him knowing and teasing you for not wearing underwear, is making your skin hot and body yearn for him. Even more embarrassing that he seems to have some kind of inkling about your arousal for him.
“I will,” another lie, you are not putting these on.
“You know, your facial expressions are incredibly honest,” he observes.
You try your hand at a poker face and it has him smiling in response.
Giving in, you confess, “I don’t want to put them on, they’re too wet.”
His face is bright, pleased at his victory, “You are an odd person,” he teases.
You’re exasperated, “Can’t you just pretend to not know?”
“I can try.” He shrugs and gives you a sweet smile but it doesn’t feel sweet, not after what he just put you through.
You put your wet underwear on the chair next to your other clothes, preferably you would clean them but they’ll do for getting you back to your room tomorrow.
You huff past Liu Kang as you walk to sit on his couch again, still holding onto the hem of his shirt as you sit, not wanting it to ride up. Not willing to risk it, especially since he knows how bare you are underneath.
He makes the tea and brings it over to you, both of you sitting in silence. You can’t help but squirm a bit in your spot. Wanting to rub your thighs together for some kind of relief but that would be way too obvious. So, you try focusing on your tea, the flavours of it, the smell, the warmth.
But then your thoughts wander, and you’re thinking about Liu Kang’s arms, his chest, his tattoos, his hands, the playfulness in his voice, his eyes as he looked at you. The stern voice he used on you earlier, everything about him sets you alight, you huff in annoyance next to him.
You hear him sigh lightly beside you, “You’re squirming again.”
“No, I’m not,” a boldfaced lie.
“What’s wrong now?”
“Nothing,” you take another sip of your tea.
He grabs your mug from you, placing it on the table, “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t need help,” you scowl at him.
His expression is dubious and not believing you for a single second, “Come here,” he pats the couch between his spread thighs.
Your face is shocked, “What for?”
He rolls his eyes at you, “I was not born yesterday, do you want my help or not?”
You argue, “Still don’t need help.”
Both his brows drop, “You’re sitting there, bare and squirming on my couch.”
“You’re supposed to pretend not to know,” you comment.
“I can only ignore so much,” he retorts.
You look at him for a bit, his expression unchanging, seemingly steadfast.
“How are you going to help?” You’re curious now.
“Find out,” he pats the couch again.
Looking upwards and away from him, you consider it for a bit, this might not be a great idea but he’s really hot and offering to help you, so against your better judgement you move over to him and sit between his spread legs. He moves forward, chest pressed to your back, his lips right by your ear.
“Can I touch you?” He checks with you.
“…Yes, please.”
He hums in response, his hand sliding down your body, resting atop one of your thighs.
Tapping it, he says, “Open your legs.”
Your skin feels hot but you listen and open them, the outside of your thighs touching the inside of his.
“Perfect,” he mumbles beside your head.
His hand slides down, caressing your inner thigh now, his other arm is wrapped around your torso, keeping you still. The hand on your thigh slowly inching closer to where you need him most, it feels like everything he’s doing is taking a million years. He’s taking his time to tenderly touch you, working you up more than you already are.
Your own hands come up to the one wrapped around you, holding onto his forearm, “Can you just… touch me please?” You ask him, voice the slightest bit breathless.
“In a moment,” his hand moves further away from your aching heat, instead tickling up the length of your inner thigh.
Your body feels like you’re about to vibrate out of your skin, his barely there touch turning your brain into mush. Slowly, his hand travels back up your thigh, and he cups your pussy, his two middle fingers slipping between your folds.
His chest rumbles with a groan behind you, “How long have you been this wet?”
You turn your head away from him and to the side, trying to avoid his words in your ear. It doesn’t work, if anything he can get closer, his head leaning down and breathing hot air onto your ear. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine in response, your teeth biting into your lower lip to supress the small sound you almost make.
“Probably when I confronted you, right?” He hits the nail on the head.
His fingers keep running through your folds, spreading your slick all over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger pressing into you the slightest bit, you cant your hips in response and he pulls away, instead repeating his previous motions of rubbing his fingers through your folds. His teasing pulling a huff from you.
“You know how I know?” he probes.
You shake your head at him, you’re a little bit curious as to what gave you away.
“I know because you are so honest, your facial expression, your movements, your eyes,” he practically purrs in your ear.
You shuffle against him, whether to get him closer or get yourself free, you aren’t sure but he holds you still against him. His fingers making a mess of your pussy, he moves them to your clit, giving you only the slightest amount of pressure. It has your hips rising to chase the sensation, wanting his fingers to be firmer. The arm around your torso pulls you back to him, holding you steady.
“You’re still squirming,” he comments.
“It’s –hah– your fault,” you quip.
“Mmm, is that so?” He wonders out loud.
Finally, he adds more pressure to your clit, the stimulation almost knocking the wind out of you, a small whimper falling from your lips involuntarily. Liu Kang hums appreciatively at your reaction to his touch. His nose runs up the length of your neck, tickling you.
“You seem to enjoy being touched right now,” he breathes the words against your neck.
He rubs circles into your clit, firm and even, never picking up or slowing down. Your hips wriggle against him, you want more, want him inside you.
A breath of air is pushed out his nostrils, amused at your movements, “Need something?” He’s still holding you firm, “If you do, you need to ask.”
“Want you to touch me,” you request.
Tone serious but his words have humour behind them, “I am touching you.”
“Want your finger, inside,” you whine at him, hating how desperate you must look and sound. No man ever having pulled you apart with such minimal contact but he isn’t just a man, is he?
His chest vibrates under you, his fingers slipping down to your pussy hole, middle finger pressing into you slowly. His large finger a stretch for you, his thumb rubs at your clit, trying to coax you into relaxing enough to take it.
“I don’t think you could be any tighter,” he murmurs to you.
Your hips are wanting to wiggle down onto his finger but you’re being held in place, when he does get his finger fully inside you, it has you instinctually trying to close your legs. Liu Kang tsks at you in disappointment, the hand around you briefly moving to place your legs over tops of his. You’re completely spread on him, the crook of your knees resting over top of his legs.
“This is embarrassing,” you mutter.
His hand moves back to hold you around your middle again, “You won’t mind soon.”
This man is going to be the death of you.
The finger inside you crooks up, stroking at your inner walls, the pleasure has your body writhing in his hold again. He pulls you back into his chest further and looks over your shoulder, down to where his finger is seated inside you. As his finger draws back from you, wet sounds follow the movement, and when he pushes it back inside, your cunt clamps down on it; a gasp jumping out of your throat.
He fucks his one finger into you continuously, your slick dripping from you, hips jumping against him. Eventually, you want more, want to feel fuller.
You pant out, “More, Liu – hah.”
He obeys, pressing his ring finger into you, his pace slowing to make up for the stretch, the small amount of pain not enough to bother you, your arousal outweighing it. Your hips grind down onto his fingers, taking the both of them deeper. His thumb rubs at your clit again as he fucks both his fingers into you, your head falls back against his shoulder, your eyes glazing over.
“Getting all fucked out on my fingers, that’s cute.” He observes.
His fingers are completely seated inside you; your hips grind into his hand. He allows you the small moment to rock your hips back and forth. Before he suddenly starts fucking them into you, pulling them out and slamming them back in, the tips of his fingers brushing something devastating. The feeling has your body shaking and whimpers falling from your lips, he hums in delight at your reaction and targets the one spot. Fucking his large fingers into it over and over again, wanting to have you falling apart for him.
Your insides start twisting in on themselves, panting breaths coming quicker, an odd feeling overwhelming you. You go to warn Liu Kang, “Feels weird.”
Liu Kang can feel your walls clenching down on his fingers, “It’s fine.”
You huff out at him, both from the feeling and his response.
“Poor girl, her ex-boyfriend didn’t only never get her to cum, she’s also never orgasmed before, mmm?” He questions, taunting.
If that’s what this is then you guess you really haven’t orgasmed before, you could’ve sworn you had but it never felt like this.
You gasp at his words, uncharacteristic of him and also really hot. Your brows knit together as his fingers keep moving inside you, his pace picking up slightly. The wet squelching of your wet cunt prominent in the otherwise quiet house.
“Stop fighting it love, just let it happen,” he whispers into the skin of your neck. He leaves wet kisses against it.
Your skin heats up in reaction to the pet name, your pussy spasming around his fingers, a whiny gasp of his name ripped from your chest. You go to keel forward but he holds you to him.
“There you go,” he purrs into your skin, “Doing so good, love.”
Your thighs are shaking on top of his, small whimpers leaving you as he continues fucking his fingers into you, prolonging your high. Aftershocks wracking your frame, jolting in his hold, slowly his fingers come to a stop, your head had dropped forward during your orgasm.
His unoccupied hand comes up to press against your forehead and pull your head back to his shoulder, you’re panting against him. Chest rising and falling quickly, your eyes unseeing for a few moments after.
When he pulls his fingers from you, he holds them up to marvel at them, admiring the way your cum has sticky strings falling from his fingers when he parts them.
“Look at that,” he says with the brightest tone, genuinely enamoured by the sight of your cum on his fingers.
You shy away from the display, turning your head to the side, unfortunately for your self-consciousness, you see the way he sticks his fingers in his mouth and sucks your cum off of them. The shameless display has your skin burning you from the inside out. After he’s sucked them clean, he wipes his spit off on your inner thigh.
“Can’t believe you were with a man who couldn’t make you orgasm for that long,” he says, almost out of nowhere.
You don’t respond, still embarrassed and a little fucked out, you don’t feel present in your own body. Wiggling against Liu Kang, you feel his very pronounced erection dig into your ass.
You mumble to him, surprised, “You’re hard.”
“Obviously, why wouldn’t I be?” he’s confused by your shock.
You remark, “You didn’t get any pleasure from that.”
“Love, I got so much pleasure from that.”
His response makes you blush.
“Your ex is some piece of work,” he claims.
You lift your shaky legs up and off of his, back to your previous position of outer thighs to his inner thighs. He lets you lay on top of him for a bit while you collect yourself, but you want to look at him.
Clumsily, you get up and shuffle around, climbing on top of him and straddling him, now face to face. You sit back a bit on his lap so you can see him properly.
“What’s wrong now?” He asks, feigning exasperation at you.
You don’t reply, instead lazily taking in all of his features, your eyes zero in on his lips. Wanting to kiss him but unsure if that’s crossing an invisible line. You don’t move, but you pull your eyes away from his mouth to look him in the eyes again.
Lightly rolling his eyes, he huffs out a sigh, his hand comes up behind your neck and pulls you towards him. His lips meet yours in a tender kiss, slow and sweet. At least it is until you shuffle forward and sit right on top of the bulge in his pants. You groan at the feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your bare cunt, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
His tongue explores your mouth, kissing you deeply. His hand holds onto your neck, keeping you in place for him to kiss you how he pleases. It’s is unlike any other, you’re realising now, you don’t think you’ve ever been kissed with so much desire, need.
Groans are pulled from his chest at the way you’ve started mindlessly grinding against him. His free hand coming up to encourage it, appreciating the friction. Having been hard for far too long with no relief. Your hands move to his shoulders, holding onto his warm skin.
You keep grinding clumsily onto his cock, back and forth along the length of it. He keeps his mouth on yours, his groans and your whines shared in it. When you pull back to breathe, his hand comes away from your throat and holds onto your other hip, using both his hands to drag you up and down his cock more forcefully.
You’re huffing out whimpers every time the head of his dick grazes your clit, Liu Kang is getting lost in the feeling of you soaking his cock through his pants. His head dropping back on the couch, you’re getting desperate on top of him. His dick is twitching under you, feeling him jerk against you has you rutting into him.
“Liu,” you call out to him.
“Mmm?” He hums to you.
“Want you inside,” you whimper.
His head shoots up to look you in the eyes, his hands stilling your hips causing you to whine pitifully. His cock jumps under you at the sound.
“Are you sure? Could barely take my fingers,” he’s double checking before getting his hopes up.
Nodding your head at him, you say, “Mhm, need it.”
His chest rumbles with a guttural groan, before he’s tapping the side of your thigh, asking you to stand on your knees for a moment. You lift yourself up and he pulls his pants down, enough to get his fat cock free.
The size of him shocks you slightly, his hands grab your hips again, pulling you down to sit on it. He starts the previous rhythm, grinding you down onto him, his cock slips between your folds, your pussy getting his dick wet and ready for you.
Gliding up and down his cock has your slick leaking from you and as you slide up, the head of his dick catches on your pussy hole, the feeling catching you off guard. You can’t help but push down onto his cock, stretching yourself on him, Liu Kang gasps at the feeling. His hands gripping your hips harshly, grounding himself.
Frustration grows in you at the difficulty of getting him inside you, so you force it and drop down quickly, more of his big dick filling your small cunt. The feeling too much, not so much pain but a large shock, your hands grasp onto Liu Kang roughly. His own body jerking forward, hips moving up on their own accord, a woosh of air exiting him like he’s been punched.
You whimper as your pussy contracts on his cock, right on the verge of an orgasm out of nowhere. Liu Kang realises this; his thumb moves to your clit and rubs quick circles into it. You’re cumming embarrassingly quick on him, his dick only halfway inside you and your eyes are teared up, your pussy creaming on him.
He growls enthusiastically at the sight and feeling of you cumming on him, only stuffed half full.
“Look at that,” he hums, “for someone who’s never had an orgasm, you cum easily.” He remarks.
You’re spasming around his cock, thighs shaking from holding yourself up.
“Sit down,” he says.
Taking a deep breath, you keep going, overstimulated and worried that him breathing on your pussy would have you cumming again. But you persevere, sinking down on him slowly, taking all of him in carefully. Eventually, you’re sitting on him, taking him to the hilt, the full feeling makes you dazed. Liu Kang’s head is thrown back slightly, his own gaze looking a bit fucked out, just from you sitting on him.
You can’t help but grind down into him, hips moving back and forth with him fully seated inside you. His big cock brushing against spots you didn’t know existed, it has you quivering on him. Your grinding gets desperate, and he lets you rut against him how you please, head leaning back and watching you squirm against him devotedly. Small grunts and moans escaping him every now and again. Your own noises more frequent and louder, your hands press into his pecs, using him as leverage.
His own hands leave your hips and instead come up and rest behind his head, holding it up. He’s leaving you to fuck yourself on his cock however you need. The sight of his torso stretched out and watching you blissfully ride him makes your pussy clench. Your clit grinding into his pelvis over and over is eventually what undoes you, cumming with a drawn-out whine, Liu Kang groans at the feeling of you cumming on him again. His self-control waning thin but he wears a large smile as you cum on him again, nonetheless.
“It’s my turn now,” he murmurs.
He manhandles you off of him, turning you so your back is to his chest, then he’s re-entering you from this position. The way he easily manoeuvred you has your heart beating and cunt leaking.
He feels different from this angle, feels delightfully deep. His arms come up and under the crook of your legs, holding them in his elbows. You’re spread so open for him; he slips deeper inside you and it has you keening. His hands hold your tits, playing with them, tugging at your nipples over his shirt. You’re practically immobile in this position, making you feel helpless.
His hands leave your tits and hold onto the front of your shoulders, his hips draw back, his cock slipping out slightly, before he’s shoving himself back inside you all at once. He repeats the motion over and over, fucking up into your immobile body, taking what he needs from you now. Your head falls back on his shoulder, whines and pants freely falling from your lips. Hands scratching at his thighs, grappling for some stability.
It shamefully doesn’t take you long again to finish, not with the punishing pace he set and the sounds spilling from his mouth right by your ear.
“Cumming again? Already?” His words are teasing but he seems overjoyed at your third orgasm on his cock.
His words have your cunt drooling on him, creamy ring at the base of his cock from all your orgasms. You’re silent when you cum this time, more pants than anything else, your pussy strangling his dick. He groans at the feeling of you shuddering on his cock, he continues fucking you through it, not stopping and holding you open.
The brutal pace he’s set is a lot for your abused cunt, the overstimulation getting to you. The pleasure shooting through you is sharp and you jump every time the head of his cock bumps up against something heavenly inside you.
“One more for me?” He asks you, feeling you getting close to the edge again.
You shake your head at him, “Too –hah– much.”
“You can take it.” He encourages, determined to throw you off the edge if you won’t go willingly, “Just one more, love.”
His words, his voice, it sends you over the edge, your orgasm is sharp and sudden. Punching you in your gut, a needy whine spilling from your lips, you’re shedding actual tears from the force of it. Liu Kang is still fucking up into you, pace picking up, chasing after his own high.
“Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” it’s barely coherent when you say it, you aren’t capable of actual speech at the moment, effectively fucked dumb by him.
A large and guttural groan is ripped from him, you can feel it in his chest. He’s cumming hard, releasing it all inside of you, he pushes you down as he fucks up into you. Holding your cunt to the base of him, grinding against you as he finishes. The sensation of being filled by him has your cunt fluttering around him.
You gasp at the feeling of his dick twitching violently as he releases inside you. He holds you to him for some time as he comes down from his own high, and then he’s gently untangling your legs from his arms. He slumps back into the couch, you’re careful to keep him inside you. Not wanting to ruin his couch more than you already have.
You feel limp against him, “You’re gonna get cum on your couch,” you warn.
He groans at you, disapproving of your observation, “Just keep me inside you.”
“That’s not gonna work…” You feel bashful as you add, “It’s leaking out around you.”
He pushes himself up and looks down from over your shoulder, wanting to see it for himself. A satisfied hum leaves him at the sight of his and your cum leaking out of you and down the base of his cock.
“Liu,” you press him.
His hand moves to your cunt and holds there as he slips out of you, holding your pussy, stuffing what’s leaking out back in. You thought he was going to keep his hand there so it didn’t get on the couch but this is the opposite of that, he’s scooping it off his pants, your thighs and the couch and then stuffing it back inside of you.
“You’re making an even bigger mess,” you worry, brows creased.
“It’s fine,” comes his nonchalant reply.
Eventually, after he’s satisfied with what he’s stuffed back inside you, he puts his dick back in his pants and picks you up. He carries you into his room and places you on his bed.
You sigh, “I would be more comfortable with a pair of underwear.”
“I have some boxers that would probably fit you,” he mentions flippantly.
“Why didn’t you offer that from the start?!” You exasperate.
“You didn’t ask, and then you asked me to pretend your bare pussy wasn’t on my couch,” he shrugs at you.
He grabs a pair of boxer briefs and hands them to you, he stands next to you so you have leverage when you stand up yourself. Your legs feel like jelly, you stand there struggling to even stand on both feet let alone one to put the boxers on.
He huffs at you, amused at your struggle, “Sit down, I’ll put them on.”
You sit back down and he slips them over your legs, after he’s gotten them up as far as he can get them while you’re sitting, you grab onto him and stand so he can tug them up the rest of the way.
You mutter at him, “Can’t believe this was always an option.”
He smiles softly at you as you crawl into his bed, you sit up against the headboard. On his bedside table you notice something. 
“What’s that,” you ask, nodding your head at it.
“That’s for you,” he says, grabbing it and handing it to you, he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. Watching your reaction.
And when you realise what it is, you feel like you might cry because it’s the most perfect gift. It’s your favourite book but Liu Kang has gone through it and annotated the pages with his thoughts and feelings. It makes you ridiculously happy.
“This is the best gift I’ve ever been given,” you tell him, giving him a sweet smile.
“Would have preferred to get your copy back but I thought this was the next best thing,” he says.
You shake your head at him, “This is better.” You’re excited to read your favourite book again but this time with all of Liu Kang’s thoughts filling the pages.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
A/N: Thank you for reading!!!! I had trouble with my characterisation of Liu Kang so I am sorry if you guys feel like I didn’t do him justice, but I appreciate any and all support!!! <333 I am down bad for this man atm so I had to get him out of my system. I have an idea for a miniseries of sorts or a part two at the very least, so if you guys like this one, I’ll write the next part <333 Requests are always open, that also goes for if you have any questions in general about me, my blog, or specific fics :)))
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lovries · 1 year
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YOU HAVE A CUTE FACE (pt. 2)
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featuring. the dateables (diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon). (the brothers version)
summary. whilst staring at his face, you've come to the conclusion that he has a very cute face— and of course you have to let him know.
warning. gn! reader, these might be a little ooc but idk.
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꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── DIAVOLO
Diavolo couldn't help but notice, a chuckle leaving his lips as he sets down his tea cup. He now matches your stare playfully, grinning when you bashfully look away. He laughs boisterously, "I win!" He declares, before settling down. "Now, would you like to tell me what's got you staring so hard?" He teases.
"You've got a cute face," You mumble out, and although he hears you, he can't help but tease you some more.
"What was that?" He cups his hand around his ear, making a show of leaning in to try and hear you better. You sigh, rolling your eyes. He's not sure what he's excepting, but you leaning in close to his ear, and whispering your answer to him was not it.
"I said, you've got a cute face." Your hot breath against his skin sends a shiver down his spine. He lets out a breathy chuckle, pulling away from you. He's surprised you made him blush so hard— close, intimate proximity was something he was a stranger too, yet it came so easily to you.
Seeing him blush fuels your own confidence, and you smirk, leaning against your palm. "What, don't tell me you didn't know?"
"Well, I don't think people often use 'cute' with me..." He trails off, calming his racing heart and getting his bearings back. "But I don't mind if its you." He finishes with a wink.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── BARBATOS
Barbatos is observant, he knows that you're staring at him, but he doesn't say a word as he continues to whip together the ingredients. Your lovesick gaze isn't something new, when you think he's not looking, you often gaze at him like such, still this is the first time you voiced your opinion.
"Barbatos, you have a very cute face."
Barbatos is thankful for being able to quickly recover from anything, because if you had noticed the way his stirring had paused, or the way his knee's nearly gave out, he's sure he'd be done for. He remains cool, despite the mess in his mind.
He gives you a sly smile. "Me?" When you nod, confirming your words, he chuckles. You really are most amusing. "Thank you." He sets down the bowl, turning his back to you to grab some other ingredients (and to get a moment of reprieve from your passionate gaze).
"Your welcome," You hum, and finally break away from his figure, sneaking a taste of the creamy mixture. "Hey, Barbatos... You know you already added the egg, right?" You say, noticing him holding another egg from your peripherals.
"Ah, it seems you are right..." Whilst you chuckle at his little blunder unknowingly, he begins to grow concerned on just how much a flustered mess you could truly make him if you tried.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SIMEON
You were having a movie night with Simeon, wanting to show him some of your favorite human realm movies, but it was hard to focus when he just looked so radiant. You didn't mean to stare, but his laughter and smiles at the movie was making your stomach do flips. It wasn't long until he glanced over at you, and noticed you were staring.
"Is everything alright?" Perhaps it's some sort of angelic power, but you feel to the need to confess the truth of your reason for staring.
"You know, Simeon, you have a very cute face." After the words left your mouth, only then do you realize what you said. You try to act unphased though whilst secretly hoping for the earth to swallow you up whole.
The movie continues on in the background as Simeon gazes at you lovingly, a sheepish smile on his lips as he speaks, "You think so? I find your face very cute too," Simeon turns back to the screen, a content smile settled on his lips. "Shall we continue watching the movie?"
"Y- Yeah, yes, let's do that." However it was very hard to focus when his hand found yours under the covers, intertwining your fingers together.
꒰ ♡ ꒱ ─── SOLOMON
Solomon felt more like he was being threatened rather than admired, feeling your sharp gaze on the back of his head. He glanced around, trying to see which demon was trying to mark him as prey, when he found it was you that was staring at him. He raised a brow, before looking forward at the teacher. He pulled out his D.D.D. and sent you a text that read 'are you confused by the lesson?'
To which you reply, 'No.' and then shortly after, 'Your face is cute.'
You watch as Solomon checks your message before he has to stifle a laugh. He was the cute one? He glances back at you again, and you wave to him. He chuckles to himself, amused by you once again.
'It is, isn't it? Would you like to see it up close?' He sends yet another message, and when you check it, the bell rings. You don't reply, instead tucking your D.D.D. in your pocket. As you look up, however, there Solomon is, a smug smile on his lips.
"Well? Is it better up close?" He asks. You look over his face again, before frowning.
"Hmm... Maybe I was wrong?" Whilst anybody else would get huffy at your teasing jab, Solomon lets out another laugh, he always finds you so charming.
"You really don't hold back, do you?" You just hum, thinking that he really is cuter up close though.
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﹙ thank you for reading! have a wonderful day! ﹚
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
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Could I request Liu Kang and others if you want receiving and hug/kiss from reader after dealing with titan shang tsung
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Here ya go! Bi-Han might be a bit ooc but then again I never claimed to write characters perfectly…so there’s that.
Liu Kang was exhausted, with Shang Tsung dealt with and peace was seemingly restored, he knew better then anyone that there was much work to be done to undo the damage caused.
So much that upon feeling your arms encase his muscular build, coddling him against you as your warmth brought him comfort and security. He didn’t feel as though he was Lord Liu Kang, God of Fire in that moment but instead he was just Liu Kang; your Liu Kang. As ironic as it may sound coming from a man as powerful as him but with you, Liu Kang felt safe, he felt protected but most importantly he felt like all his hard efforts had been paid off in the form of you holding him.
A weight had been lifted from his chest, and as the fatigue he had pushed aside slowly start to take hold over him and all he wanted was to stay like this forever, to get the chance to stay with you in his arms for the rest of time, should fate ever allow such a small request to be made; Liu Kang wanted the opportunity to fall asleep and wake up to you like he should’ve been from the very beginning but couldn’t.
Now however he hopes that he could use this as a way to make up for lost time.
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Raiden didn’t think his smile could possibly get any wider than it did now as you peppered his face in abundance of soft, loving kisses that left a tingly feeling in his skin after pulling away to kiss another aspect of his face, causing him to chuckle at the almost magical sensation.
His eyes would then close in utter and pure bliss as he leant into the hands that held his face as though it were a priceless antiquity. Raiden felt your thumbs brush over his cheekbones either care, leaving an invisible trail for your lips to follow along.
You were Raiden’s safe haven and he’d always find himself coming back to you no matter what his condition was, for you were always with him even if you physically weren’t because Raiden always kept you close in the depths his heart; sighting you as his inspiration and his guiding force through rough situations, hopeful that one day he’d get to return to your arms and immerse himself in your warmth whilst sharing his own in equal exchange.
You stayed within your own paradise for a long while before going back to it within the realm of dreams, huddled together like two otters, unwilling to let the other drift away.
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Kuai Liang reciprocates your hug with his one of his own as an excuse to feel your warmth against him, even though the fact still stood that he ran incredibly warm for the both of you, but he disliked having to leave your side for prolonged periods of time. Something that has only gotten worse with Bi-Han’s betrayal and his promise of bringing you into their quarrel, despite the prior warnings that were given to the cryomancer.
He needed this more then you could ever know with the way he was quick to bury his head into shoulder, his hands holding onto you so tightly, you feared that your clothes would bear scorched imprints of his hands afterwards. You couldn’t blame him however and allowed Kuai Liang to cling onto you in an almost desperate plea to prevent you from fading out of his life forever.
You both held onto one another like you each other’s lifeline, like you couldn’t live without one another as you tried to move in closer to Kuai Liang in hopes of moulding yourself into his very being. You both found comfort in knowing that the other was okay, that they were safe because god forbid if anything were to happen to either you or Kuai Liang.
You were practically soulmates in the literal sense.
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Bi-Han, whilst in the privacy of your shared room, would just allow you to hold onto him tightly while made no attempts as to voice his general opinion on this sort of thing.
He was ice cold in more then just powers alone.
his voice was cold.
his gaze that peered at you with judgment was cold.
His unfeeling heart might as well be a block of unbreakable ice.
His entire body was cold and that the longer you held onto him, some parts of your body -primarily in your fingertips and hands- were already starting to feel the numbing effects of embracing someone who was the literal embodiment of a wall of ice. Had you done this in public, in front of people that Bi-Han couldn’t stand, he would have no issue in ripping your arms away from his sides, leaving you to stand in your own embarrassment as he walked away.
However behind closed doors Bi-Han was more lenient towards you showing him affection. No one was nearby to witness this moment between supposed lovers, no one was here to see the one person Bi-Han admitted to calling his Achilles heel, holding onto him with such determination. So for once in his life, Bi-Han allowed those walls he built to come down as he slowly place his hands against your back, tucking you against him even further, closing his tired eyes and resting his weary head into your neck where he let out a sigh before letting himself to collapse into your embrace completely.
Bi-Han was a man devoid of such simple acts throughout his life that once it’s given to him, he has to remind himself that he was under no threat, other then being under the threat of breaking apart in your arms after endearing hardships for so long. So long in fact that a measly small act was enough to have this man crumble internally before crumbling physically afterwards.
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vagabond-umlaut · 1 month
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it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them
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deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-
and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...
[uraume deserves a raise.]
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▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc
▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️
▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!
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"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"
it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.
uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"
"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."
if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"
"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."
shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.
instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–
only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—
"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"
"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"
something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.
"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.
"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"
"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.
ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...
"it can also be for many other reasons like–"
the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.
the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—
"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...
another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.
his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—
oh. oh, oh, oh–
"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"
the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."
"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."
used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.
"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."
"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"
"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.
"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"
familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.
you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:
"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"
"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"
you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.
"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.
"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"
"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."
"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."
another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.
uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...
until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."
a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"
"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—
"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"
— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.
the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.
the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"
yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.
uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."
"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.
ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"
"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"
"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.
not many do.
he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"
your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."
"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...
they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.
for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"
uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.
certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.
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did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.
the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]
also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe
also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]
▸ masterlist
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ccaptain · 2 months
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your girl just got into the Wuthering Waves beta testing
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yzashaven · 9 months
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✰ ━━━ how they show affection for you <3
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FEATURING scaramouche, tartaglia, xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader
WARNINGS some are prob ooc 😭
NOTE (omfg these images are so low quality LMAO) on my past blogs, i usually only write nsfw so this is like... a change of pace? sort of... anyways hope you enjoy, likes and rbs are ofc appreciated! also, referring to wanderer as scaramouche since his name is player dependant
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okay so hear me out when i say he seems like the type to take you to places with the prettiest views (shout out to his birthday voiceline) whether it be views of the sunset, a flower field, an ocean or beach view... as long as it's a pretty site to see, he'll take you there! scaramouche loves the way the places give him a peaceful feeling, and the way that it's just the two of you there? he's in paradise and heaven combined.
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a bit similar to scara, tartaglia would take you to places. and by places i mean his homeland, snezhnaya, for the snow and to see his family. his little brother, teucer is certainly very fond of you, and tartaglia loves to watch you spend time with his siblings. he's such a family oriented guy... another thing he'd do is cook delicious meals for you! ranging from simple snacks to your personal favorites, and definitely some snezhnayan delicacies~
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xiao is sweet to his lover, no doubt. but that doesn't mean he'll ignore his duties as an adeptus and focus on them. he expresses his love by protecting you... and maybe sharing his almond tofu. need his help? call out for him and he'll be there in an instant. also this whole love thing is very new to xiao, soo he's not used to things like hugging and kissing, yk those kinda stuff but he'll get used to it eventually. he does really like your company though, brings a smile to his face.
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we all know albedo is a very amazing alchemist, he can make basically anything within a few hours or even minutes. he'd use his skill and powers to give you sentimental itemsㅡ such as a bouquet of flowers that never wither or ones that glow in your favorite color. If you don't really like flowers, don't worry, he can make whatever it is that you want! oh you want a dragon? he'll try and will come back to you with a small, cute, non-hostile looking one that protects you <3
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he is sometimes busy due to work for the kamisato clan and being the "fixer" in inazuma, but he never forgets to make time for you! his love language is definitely quality time as he loves to just relax and accompany you wherever. another way thoma shows affection is through doing errands and other things for you such as cooking, cleaning around in your teapot realm, curing for your wounds if you ever get hurt, and maybe doing a commission or two of yours!
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kaedehara kazuha... he's such a romantic man when it comes to his lover. he'll write you a poem literally every single day and compliment you every minute. kazuha also likes to run his hands through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear while you watch the sun set together at the best vantage point in wherever it is you're traveling at. he also definitely introduced you to his mom(beidou) so he takes you with him on the crux for fun adventures together! or just taking naps as the boat sets sail.
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as the akademiya's scribe, alhaitham is often busy attending to those missions along with his personal investigations and other matters. so to prevent any lost time, he takes you with him. you're quite the strong fighter yourself so there won't be any problems, right? and if something bad does happen, he's your savior. despite talking sharply at times about how you weren't being careful or being reckless, he still loves you and will be happy that you're safe. alhaitham would reassure you about that too. also you study together at the akademiya library sometimes, he really likes having you around :3
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cyno is a man of few words but reassures you about how much he loves you and would quite literally tear apart, limb from limb anyone that tries to harm you. cyno keeps a close eye on you especially when he senses danger is near, he wouldn't even wish for anything bad to happen to you. as the general mahamatra, fighting is practically his specialty which is why he uses that fighting experience and knowledge to protect you even if you tell him that you can handle yourself, he insists as he doesn't want to risk losing you like that.
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kaixserzz · 8 months
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The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.
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ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄
ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄
author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me
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Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.
While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).
Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?
No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).
Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.
In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.
All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.
That was before you came along, of course.
The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.
When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.
He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.
Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.
Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.
And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).
And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.
You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.
Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.
But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)
So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.
Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.
Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.
The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"
Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"
With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.
It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).
"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."
"Really!?"
"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."
As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"
"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.
"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"
"Oh? Do you not like it?"
You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"
Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.
You also love to hop onto people a lot."
"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"
"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.
"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.
"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.
Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.
Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.
A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"
And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."
Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.
"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"
He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"
"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.
Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.
"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"
At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.
He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.
Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.
"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.
"Hm? What is it?"
You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"
He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).
A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."
"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."
"What, like cheese?"
"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."
You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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tswhiisftteedr · 3 months
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ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime
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Girls ☆ One Shot
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☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:
After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.
Words: 4228
Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.
Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.
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☆ more under the cut. ☆
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Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'
From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’
The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.
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It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.
There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.
In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.
However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.
This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.
However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.
"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."
With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'
Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.
The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’
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You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;
Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.
Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."
You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.
Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.
Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'
This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;
"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.
"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.
"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’
"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.
"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.
"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.
"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.
The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.
"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.
"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.
"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.
And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.
With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.
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Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;
Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.
Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.
That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"
Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.
Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’
Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.
"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.
"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.
"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.
Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.
Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.
"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.
"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.
"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.
"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.
To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.
"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.
After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.
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Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.
Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.
You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.
Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;
Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.
Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.
But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…
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You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.
As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."
"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.
She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.
After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.
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At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.
However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.
You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.
Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.
Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.
A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.
Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.
Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';
Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.
She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.
Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.
Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.
This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.
Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.
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By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.
Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.
She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.
Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.
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Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.
She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.
Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.
Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.
Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;
"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.
"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.
"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.
'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.
However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.
"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.
Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.
"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."
Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.
A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.
With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.
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Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.
Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.
Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.
Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;
Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.
You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”
"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.
“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.
As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’
Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.
Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.
"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.
"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.
As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.
You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.
Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.
With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.
Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.
Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.
You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.
Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.
Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.
"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.
"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.
"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.
This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…
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Thanks anon for requesting!
©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize. Buy me a book. And support my art account @maviscarlettie
Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)
Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)
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bloomries · 2 months
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Hi I was wondering if you could make a part 2 worth the dateables for the “in another universe” fic. I just read it and it was amazing and now im crying 😭.
in another universe...
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includes : the dateables (diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon). part one here.
summary : what could have been, in a better universe.
warnings : gn! reader. angsty angst. death & mortality (solomon). prob a little ooc but shhhh. italics indicate the 'other universe.'
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꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Diavolo
...you weren't the prince of the devildom.
It was another day filled with princely duties, and another day you find yourself all alone. It was painfully empty in the large bed, and you knew you couldn't do a thing to fix it. Instead you close yours eyes and wish you could have woken up in his arms.
In a perfect world, you'd wake up in the arms of your beloved. Not Prince Diavolo, just Diavolo. You'd wake up to the feeling of kisses peppered against your face, and giggles would fill the room as you try to push him away but he won't relent. "G'morning my love," he whispers between kisses, "We gotta get up~"
"Noo," you whine, and he chuckles, pulling away to look at your cute scrunched up face. "Let's just call in sick and stay in bed allllll day." You peak an eye open to see Dia, who grins.
"Sounds like a perfect idea." And thus the day was spent burning making food, watching shitty tv drama, and cuddling- and of course kissing too.
But when you open your eyes, the coolness creeps in, and the emptiness of the room is unsettling. A knock on the door alerts you of Barbatos' presences, and he speaks from the other side of the door.
"Are you awake?... Lord Diavolo asks me to send his regards, he has another day ruling over the Devildom, and wants to let you know to not expect him until late." Pulling the sheets over your face, you decide to indulge in your fantasy world a little longer before facing the harsh reality.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Barbatos
...i came first.
It's not that you didn't understand, no you knew perfectly well that Barbatos' job was very important and required him to be away from you for long periods of time. What you didn't understand was that he refused, almost too eagerly, a day off. Diavolo noticed he'd been working him too hard and offered a little vacation. You thought he'd take it, so he could spend what little time granted he could with you, but instead...
"I was thinking we could head to the human realm, and have a nice date there."
"Oh yeah?" You coo, leaning closer to him and grinning. "And what should we do there?" He hums, deep in thought. A nice restaurant, perhaps dancing involved, walking around a fairy-light lit park, being in each others arms. Yes, that sounded nice, and thus he informed of you such thoughts. "That does sound nice, it's a date then." You press a kiss to the corner of his lip- tease. He's quick to correct your mistake, placing a proper kiss to your lips.
"You... You rejected the offer?" Barbatos undoes the buttons of his shirt, glancing over his shoulder at you with a slight frown.
"Obviously. As much as I'd like to trust him..." He tsks and shake his head, pushing away the thought. "Nevermind. Shall we turn in for the night?" He slips into more comfortable clothing, giving you that cool, unwavering smile. Ah, you don't know how much more you can put up with this...
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Simeon
...you stayed the night.
"Goodnight." Simeon spoke in a soft, quiet voice, his smile kind. It makes your heart do somersaults. You bid him a goodnight as well, and as he goes to turn, you hesitantly catch his wrist.
"You know... You could stay the night... If you wanted." His eyes widen. Stay the night? Something inside him shifts, his eyes filling with what seems to be pity.
"I'm sorry... I can't..." He speaks, gently removing your hand off his wrist and giving you a weak smile. "Goodnight." And then he leaves, not a single glance back. Did you just ruin your friendship with five words? You just wanted him to stay a little longer, just be near you for a while more...
"Stay the night?" You nod, fiddling with your shirt. "Well... I suppose that would be okay." Your eyes widen in delight. Really? He'd stay? He chuckles at your obvious enthusiasm and allows you to drag him back into your room where you set up a spot for you to sleep on the ground.
Simeon shakes his head at this. "I'll take the floor." After a little arguing, you both end up on the bed, both too jittery with excitement of staying near your crush to properly sleep. As you try to close your eyes, try to calm your mind, however, you feel a pinkie brush against yours- and feeling a little bolder, you move your hand even closer. Eventually, your hand in Simeons, and his in yours, you both with small, dorky smiles as sleep comes for you both.
Tomorrow will likely involve a long talk.
꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Solomon
...we could grow old together.
"You're going to be the cutest grumpy old man." It was an offhand comment, something you didn't really think about, you were just teasing him... But then the mood in the air shift, and it got real quiet, and you were suddenly reminded that you wouldn't be growing old with him.
"Shit... Sorry." You, but Solomon waves his hand dismissively, forcing a smile as he claims it's no big deal. It is, though, it's an incredibly big deal. Not only feeling the despair of it, but Solomon too- if he could, he'd most definitely choose mortality with you than whatever he's got going on now.
Sitting in your own separate rocking chairs, holding hands. You reading a book while Solomon nags about 'children theses days' or something or another. Getting up and then having to help him because his knees are what they used to be. Listening to a song considered old, dancing close to each other and remembering all your beautiful memories together. Eventually dying together.
Ah... But none of that will happen. He'll eventually watch you pass away, and he'll try desperately to hold on to your memory but when your face fades away from his mind who will he become? Solomon gingerly holds back tears that sting his eyes. Damn his immortality, damn it all. He truly wishes he could give it all up for a lifetime with you- it'd truly be worth it.
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tornscale · 10 months
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bluelikebruises · 2 months
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whispers of summer fervor || aegon ii targaryen
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Aegon II Targaryen/TargaryenF!Reader summary: Fire and Blood—you were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed. Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy.  or Being the disgraced child of King Viserys and abandoned by your eldest sister pushes you into the arms of her opposition, leading to your support of Aegon’s claim.  wc: 5.1k tw: slight ooc aegon, angst, rhaenyra is usurped, rhaenyra slander, daddy issues, mommy issues, viserys is a shity dad, burn scars, reader is born from aemma but skintone & physical features are never discussed, canon divergence, incest cause yknow targaryens, bastard slander, hints of misogyny
a/n: i usually write (or try to) a reader who is neutral to the whole blacks vs green, but not today! rhaenyra is the rightful heir—always—but for the sake of this fic she is not. also i’ve been neglecting completing my uni assignments to finish this lol, enjoy!!! p.s. not proofread
☆━━━━☆━━━━☆
Fire and Blood—the words of your House. 
Fire and Blood—a warning to those who would ever think of opposing the Targaryen dynasty. 
Fire and Blood—a declaration of war met with threats disguised as promises. 
You were etched out of those great words. Born covered in a veil of maroon with the stench of death. A hollow child with sunken eyes kissed by the very fire that gave your family their power. When the dragon egg in your crib never hatched you were thrown into the dragon’s den. Ignited by a dragon who was not yours to claim, your skin holding the memories of your failure. The Cursed Targaryen Princess—without a mother, without a dragon, and maimed.  Your misfortunes were a stain upon the tapestry of the Targaryen legacy. 
A fate you were lucky enough to not shoulder alone, Aegon like you was born of your mothers blood. Born out of a desperate need to uphold old customs and beliefs. While his birth was celebrated it also split the Realm, whispers of his right as future king followed him throughout his life. The notions of king left heavy expectations for him to shoulder, expectations he never met, always falling short in one way or another. Resulting in his feverish drinking and promiscuity.
You are both young when you realize the shortcomings of your livelihoods. The drop in your father’s voice whenever he spoke of you. The frigid overcast that glazed over his eyes when his eyes set on you. The blatant favoritism he showed towards your much older sister—the tenderness in his eyes was a warmth you had never felt. His disdain leaked into your interactions; an uncomfortable shadow fell upon his brow whenever you were in his presence. As if your very being pained him, and how could it not? You were the walking reminder of his wife’s death, of his failure as not just a husband but a King. 
Aegon knows the resentment his mother harbors towards him despite her denial. Her first born conceived of a loveless marriage. She had been a girl and made a monarch overnight and some months later a mother. She was robbed of her girlhood and tied to the crown forever and Aegon had been the first nail in her coffin. Aegon represented every sacrifice she had made and his constant rebellion felt like an insult to everything Alicent lost. 
You understood one another, in ways many could not. Cut from the same cloth amalgamations of Targaryen indulgence, stubbornness, and passion. The least favored children of the King and Queen, bonded over neglect and resentment.
Years forged your attachment into blind fidelity, a sickly devotion that was rooted in your hearts like oaths. The world hardly existed outside the two of you and it didn’t stop for anyone without the Targaryen name. While many believed there were no exceptions to your coterie, they would find themselves proven wrong. For nearest and dearest to you was Helaena and Aemond, both as intertwined with one another as you and Aegon. 
Though the four of you were close none of you shared an inkling of a relationship with your eldest sister. Rhaenyra had left for Dragonstone and never turned back, no word or ravens ever arrived in her stead. 
When she had resided in the Keep she made no effort to hide her aversion towards you. She was a specter in your memory and marked as a heathen by the Queen. The Queen marked Rhaenyra a great many things and left a bitter child you swallowed her words like water.
It came to no surprise to anyone when the Queen announced that Vaemond Velaryon was bringing into question the validity of your nephew’s claim to Driftmark. After all Rhaenyra had done a very poor job of hiding her indiscretions. 
━━☆━━
On the day of the trial you sit in front of the hearth dreading the affair that was to come. As the hours passed you prepared to become a part of the circus, another spectacle for the Lord and Ladies of the Kingdom to gawk at. Prying eyes were always trying to glimpse at your injury, trying to validate the whispers of gossip they had heard. They were children and you, a parable came to life—a reminder of how cruel the Gods could be. The Cursed Targaryen Princess who could not hatch or claim a dragon. A clear demonstration that even the Targaryens were exempt from their own fire. 
Eyes followed you even when not a single body was around. They haunted you mercilessly. The constant feeling never allows you to inhabit your body comfortably. It was the reason many of your dresses had been tailored towards your lesions. Tailored towards the concealment of the damaged  skin of your shoulder and upper arm. 
Your dresses always had long sleeves even during the hot summers. The scars that could not be hidden with fabric were hidden by your hair. Never was your hair tied up or styled in extravagant fashion. It was only ever neatly placed out of your face in a simple manner. 
With the sound of your chambers doors opening you surface from thought. Aegon steps into view, freshly bathed with his hair combed and wearing an exasperated look. 
“The Keep is a mess” he says slumping down next to you. He throws his head back leaning uncomfortably on the divan 
“Your sisters arrival warrants pageantry” 
“Your sister” he clarifies 
You scoff, Rhaenyra had not been your sister in years. She had always tried to marry you off to a Lannister or whatever Lord presented himself as willing. She thought you incompetent and arrogant, endowments she believed were smears of her mothers memory. 
She was one to cast judgment, you’re sure Aemma would not have been keen on having illegitimate grandsons. What was the saying of House Arryn… As High as Honor. Bastards were anything but. 
“Has she not summoned you?” he looks at you curiously
“She has,” you respond boredly. A servant had entered your chambers the day prior, her head tilted towards the floor as she spoke. Her timidness struck you as odd and instantly you knew she was one of Rhaenyra’s. With a smile you sent her back to her mistress, refusing to tangle yourself in her web.
Aegon smirks, “She is to be Queen and you deny her” 
“She pedals falsehoods and you forget she is not Queen yet”
He laughs shifting in his seat, his eyes never leaving you. While you hated being watched, Aegon's gaze was different. He was never trying to pry you open or overzealous with morbid curiosity. He always regarded you with esteemed affection and tenderness. 
After a long pause you say, “Is there something on my face?”
His stare doesn’t waiver and he doesn’t respond. It is rare when he forgets how bewitching you could be but when it strikes him, he is at a loss for words—overwhelmed by the realization. His eyes shine with novelty as if it is the first time he has ever laid eyes on you. As if you were the grand encompass of the ocean and he was ready to dive in.
You utter his name and he’s awoken from the spell he had been under. 
He stands offering his hand, “We should take our leave now”
“You’ve never been one for punctuality” you tease and he smiles
“No, but I have been informed to behave. To present an image of regalness and grace” a laugh escapes his lips, “As if I am Aemond”
Now you laugh taking his hand, “He is much more regal than you” 
Aegon clutches his chest just over his heart, feigning hurt, “You injure me”
With your arms laced together you set off to find Aemond and Helaena. It would have been improper for Aegon to enter without his wife and for you to show up in the arms of a married man—regardless if he was your brother. It was a rule the four of you rarely followed but today was not the day to deter away from customs. 
Helaena is the first to spot you in the halls, Aemond is with her. A bright smile displayed on her face as she said your name. You can’t help but admire her, always effortlessly beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gave her credit for. The picture of what women of your house were to be, beautiful, intelligent, and dragon riders. Everything you were not and though she did not hatch an egg she had claimed Dreamfyre. You should have been mad with envy but no such ill feeling ever came.
You loved her, perhaps no envy was born due to your ever present feeling of having to protect her. Of shielding her from the claws that embedded themselves into Keep. Destroying any sight of light or innocence. Fearing she would be treated like you had been. 
You depart from Aegon to greet Helaena with a kiss on the cheek. Moving towards Aemond to do the same, he greets you with a compliment before extending his arm for you to take. 
“Always so chivalrous” you say loud enough for Aegon to hear
━━☆━━
The hearing had gone to shit. Your father made a surprising appearance, Vaemond had died, Lucerys was still heir to Driftmark, and everything was as it had been the day before. 
You stand beside Aegon and Aemond in the dining hall, the room is lit by candle light as chatter fills the air. 
“What a waste of time” Aegon huffs
“Dinner or the hearing?” 
“Both. Lucerys is still heir and Daemon suffers no consequences.”
Aemond chimes in, “Their breaths are an insult to everything we stand for”
You nod about to speak when the sound of the wooden door opening announces the arrival of the King. Quickly everyone settles to stand before their seats, seating only after the King is seated. 
Your father greets everyone with a hoarse voice. He wears a golden mask on the rotten side of his face and he breathes as though it pains him. 
“Prayer before we begin?” The Queen asks and he nods 
Instantly your head is bowed, your hands are in your lap, and your eyes are closed. Prayer had become a daily ritual before dinner and it was always led by the Queen. 
Before the prayer is over you feel the sensation of eyes on your skin. You think it to be one of your nephews but when the prayer is over you see it is Rhaenyra. 
Her eyes are casted with an emotion you cannot read and they soon drop to your shoulder. Eyeing the scars that edged just above your shoulder and the base of your neck. 
Feeling the scrutiny of her gaze, your hands find your hair moving it to disrupt her viewing. You had been judged by the vultures of the Seven Kingdoms, you would not allow Rhaenyra to do the same. 
The expression on your face is clear, Rhaenyra has gotten to you. 
Aegon notices your discomfort, notices how your hair now falls over your chest, and how your eyes are focused on the empty plate before you. Instantly he knows someone is to blame. He first assumes it to be Daemon, his uncle was crude and unceremonious. Having little regard for the people around him, not bothering with niceties. 
But when he sees Rhaenyra attentively watching you—casting judgment—he knows it was her. Aegon almost laughs at her hypocrisy, as if she out of anyone had any right to look down upon others. 
If his sister wanted something to look at, then he as a gracious brother would oblige in the only way he knew how, by causing a scene. The one thing Aegon was adept at was getting under people's skin, poking and prodding until they burst. 
He leans towards Jacaerys spewing his obnoxious rambling. When his nephew bites back Aegon leans back in his chair reveling in the beginning of his antics. 
The sound of wood scraping against stone makes you cringe, your father is standing removing his mask displaying the rot that has taken over the left side of his face. Eye’s are averted at the bare sight of the King’s face, but you are accustomed to seeing rotten skin. His teeth can be seen through his cheek, the muscle stretching and contracting as he speaks—it's a morbid sight. 
He speaks of reconciliation and forgiveness but you pay him no mind. Besides you, Aemond keeps his eyes forward, Helaena has her eyes on the wooden table, and Aegon’s jaw is tight as he stares at his wine cup. 
You spent the next couple of moments with your head in the clouds. Surfacing from thought when Rhaenyra toasts to the Queen, thanking her for looking after the King. You’re surprised when the Queen follows after, her kind words confound you. But you have no time to think them over as Aegon stands from his seat. Stepping between Jacaerys and Baela pouring wine into his cup.
Aemond looks suspiciously towards you but you had no answers to give him. When his eye leaves you the table shakes and Jacaerys stands as Aegon sits. With furrowed brows you look at Aegon who sips on his wine with ease. 
The room falls silent and Aegon is reviling in the tension, trying not to smile triumphantly as he uses his cup as a shield. 
The tension in the room grows thicker when Aemond stands. He’s looking at Jacaerys with the marksmanship of a hunter who had spotted their prey. 
Eyes shift and concern is painted on the faces of almost everyone. 
Jacaerys playfully hits his uncle on the shoulder, raising his cup as he smiles at Aemond, “To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth” Jacaerys pauses looking between his uncles, “And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles”
Across the table you see the snarky smiles of Jacaerys’ betrothed and Lucerys. Their smugness lights a flame in the furnace of your heart. You have half a mind to stand with Aemond, to show that their disrespect would not be tolerated. 
“To you as well,” Aegon says 
When Aemond sits you lean towards him, “Fucking miscreants”
“Vermin” he responds as Helaena stands. 
She smiles excitedly holding her cup of wine, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon” she turns to them, “It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you, except sometimes when he’s drunk” she smiles
You let out a small laugh at her words. Aegon was rather whinny when drunk, he became a rambling needy mess who desperately wanted attention. And you were always there to give it to him in any shape or form that he needed it in. 
Smiling, you raise your cup towards Helaena, “Hear, Hear”. The scarlet wine falls down your throat with ease and your moment of enjoyment is shortly ruined by an approaching Jacaerys. 
His eyes are set on Helaena as he extends his hand asking her to dance. To your dismay she takes his hand without hesitation. You’re staring daggers at the Prince, indignation replaces the taste of wine in your mouth. Helaena was far too kind for the world. 
Aegon’s eyes catch yours before he looks at Jacaerys dancing with his wife, disbelief and annoyance clear in his face. 
In one swift motion you move to stand beside Aegon, “The apple does not fall from the tree” you glare at the hazel haired prince, expecting a response from Aegon but you get none. Confused, you turn towards Aegon only to find him gazing across the table. He’s quiet as he sips from the cup in his hand watching Rhaenyra laugh and talk with their father. Viserys is smiling and coughing through his laughter and it is the most alive he has been in years. 
“She arrives and suddenly he can will himself to walk and attend supper” he says only for you to hear 
You look up towards the sight of his words—your father and Rhaenyra and you understand. His jab was not said out of anger but out of a feeling of lacking. All the traits and characteristics Rhaenyra had that he did not, the love of their father she had that he did not. 
“You’re jealous” 
He turns towards you, “Are you not?”
“No”, you lie
“She’s father’s favorite”, he’s looking up at you through his lashes, “I’m the son he killed for and it is not enough”
You avert your gaze, his words struck like an arrow. A part of you had always felt responsible for the birth of Aegon. At fault for the death of your mother, the death of your brother, and the birth of Aegon. If you had not been a butcher, if you had been a boy his burden would be yours.
“You didn’t kill anyone Aegon” you sip wine solemnly, your posture falters, and your head is half hung. 
Aegon notices your somber spirit and his eyes soften realizing the error in his words, “I’m sorry, I meant no offense”
“I know”, is all you say returning to your seat
As the night passes you eat and make conversation with Aemond. For most of the night his eye is set on the dancing prince and princess. Occasionally when he looks at you his lips pull upwards in a smile.
After your father retires for the night, servants enter with more food. A cooked pig is laid out before you and before you can think Aemond’s fist hits the table as he stands. 
“Final tribute” 
All eyes fall on Aemond and the room goes quiet.
“To the health of my nephews. Jace…Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…” he pauses and it is as if all the air in the room has been cast out, “strong”
Your eyes widen in shock as the Queen pleads with Aemond. 
“Come let us drain our cups to these three…strong boys”
“I dare you to say that again” 
Aemond turns towards Jacaerys, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment”, they both walk towards one another, “Do you not think yourself strong?”
Lucerys rises from his seat as Jacaerys strikes Aemond, Aegon is not far behind grabbing his nephew and slamming him against the table. 
Bolting upwards you grab Helaena pulling her away from the chaos. She grips your hand tightly frightened by the scene. 
“Are you alright?” you ask
She nods, “Yes but Aemond” her hand points at the exiting prince. Understanding, you pull Helaena, following Aemond. 
Once you’re in the halls you follow the sounds of Aemond’s steps, Helaena runs towards him. She latches onto the side of his arm soothing the riled prince. You’re about to do the same when laughter echoes from beyond the hallway—Aegon. 
Grabbing the side of your dresses you hold it up allowing yourself quicker movements. With your approach the shadow of Aegon grows smaller and his laughter grows louder. 
You say his name as you grab his arm. When he lays his eyes on you they widen excitedly, your name falls from his lips, “You are a vision. Have I told you that? Come, come, let us retreat into our burrow”. He gives you no time to respond as he throws an arm around you and leads you away. 
The burrow was a small unfinished room at the far end of the Keep that had been hidden by a suit of armor; it had been discovered by Aegon when he was ten and two. Immediately he ran to inform you about it, dragging you into the room. It is not large like either of your chambers but it’s spacious enough that both of you can move without bumping into one another. Rugs and sheets hung throughout the floor and walls hiding the decaying walls. Bottles of wine littered the room, both empty and full. 
Aegon is drunkenly rambling, as you make sure there is no one around to see you gently push past the suit, “”Twas only a compliment” he mimics Aemond’s voice. 
Sitting near the corner of the room you grab a bottle and Aegon moves towards you. He rests his head against your lap spilling wine into your dress, not that you cared. He’s laughing recalling the events of the night.
With a laugh you respond, “Jacaerys’ stance was laughable, he looked like a child throwing a tantrum” 
“He is to be King”, his laugh dies as the sentence leaves his lips, “He is to be King” 
You both grow quiet, the words weigh heavy over the both of you. The realities of a future that is so close to becoming reality. If you were believed to be a stain on the Targaryen legacy, Rhaenyra's children were desecrations to the Targaryen dynasty.
“Perhaps your mother is right,” you sip from the bottle of wine not fully thinking about the words as you speak, “Perhaps you should be King”
Aegon half laughs, pushing himself into a sitting position, “You speak of treachery” 
“Your mother says—”
“My mother is crazed on a notion that we will be slain” 
You wish you could believe him, but the image of your sister's husband swinging his sword without mercy does not leave your mind. How easy it would be for Rhaenyra to rid herself of you once she is Queen; there were fates far worse than death. 
“Enough talk of foreboding futures. Let us drink ourselves blind” 
“Hear! Hear!” you eagerly agree
True to Aegon’s words you both drink until your visions are blurred and the room spins. You both dance and drink carelessly, laughing as though the events of the night had no effect on you. It comes as no surprise when Aegon leans towards you and presses his lip on yours. The kiss is sloppy and full of hunger, your teeth clash and tongues swipe over one another. There’s a desperation in his hands—in the way he holds your face obstructing any movement. In the heat of passion you bite his bottom lip earning a yelp from Aegon. 
He pulls away with a smile, “Ow”
Your hand rest on his chest playfully, “Don’t be a child, I didn’t draw blood” 
The rest of the night blurs into a giant mirage of jubilation. 
━━☆━━
As the sun rose you wake with a yawn, your body aching from the uncomfortable position it had been in all night. Your head had been on Aegon’s lap and his arm had been thrown over your body. Maneuvering from his embrace you press your back firmly on the brick wall, your head throbbing feeling as though it had been repeatedly bashed.
The sun’s rays kiss your cheeks, it's warm and gentle and for a brief moment the world around you falls into obscurity. Nothing else matters beside the sun’s golden touch and the beating of your own heart. 
The body besides you grumbles and your moment of serenity shatters as Aegon slowly stirs into consciousness. You’re brought back into the arms of reality.
“Wine,” he says, “More wine”
You don’t waste your breath, instead you make your way to your chambers. Stumbling the first few steps out of the room. Peeking your head out of the door way you make sure there is no one around before exiting. 
Walking down the corridors there is an air of urgency within the Keep. There were twice as many Knights as you were accustomed to seeing and servants hurried into the direction of the Great Hall. Regardless you carry on, not bothering to greet any of the people who greeted or called after you. 
Approaching the hallway to your chambers you’re unexpectedly faced with the sight of your wooden doors wide open. Stepping closer you see three figures standing at the center of your room; Aemond, Ser Criston, and the Queen.
Puzzlement rests on your brow, what had transpired in the hours you and Aegon had disappeared. As you continue your approach you can see the faces of your visitors all displaying an array of emotions.
“Your Grace,” Ser Criston states as you walk through the threshold, “The Princess”
The Queen turns towards you instantly, wasting no time in embracing you, “Oh sweet girl” 
Her embrace wasn’t foreign but the sudden action confuses you further. 
“Where have you been? Where is Aegon?” she pulls away but keeps her hands on your arms
You looked towards Aemond trying to find any answers on his face but there were none. 
“I’ve just left Aegon. Has something happened?” 
“Where is he?” The Queen’s grip on your arm tightens. Desperation is in her eyes and it frightens you, enough that you decided to keep Aegon's whereabouts to yourself for the time being.
“We snuck out of the Keep last night. Upon returning to the castle Aegon left my side” 
She turns towards her sworn Knight an unsaid order ushering him quickly from your chambers, Aemond follows suit. 
When they’re gone you repeat your question, “Has something happened?”
“Your father is dead, he died in his sleep”
Her voice was grave and her words echo in your mind but you can’t decipher them. It’s as if you have lost the ability to comprehend the common tongue. 
A moment passes and you realize what your step mother had said. Silently you wait for grief but it never arrives, there is no sadness in your heart, no invading sorrow. Your father is dead and you shed no tears for his memory. 
“I–I need a moment,” you pull away but before you can leave the Queen pulls you towards her. Her hand is under your chin lifting your head just enough to meet her gaze.
Her eyes are round and full of distress, “You know where Aegon is, I beg of you, bring him to me. It was the King’s dying wish. Do not let my father get his hands on him first”
You nod and hurriedly walk out of your chambers, returning to your burrow. The throbbing in your head returns but you try to disregard the discomfort, there were far more pressing matters. 
The closer you got towards Aegon the faster your move, breaths of air forcibly escape as enter through the hidden door. You thank the Gods when you see Aegon in the same position he had been when you left. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees shaking him.
“Aegon, Aegon. Wake up, Wake up”
He groans and his speech is slurs. Letting his arms go, he slouches into a half sitting position half laying. His eyes flutter open for a moment and your name falls from his lips. 
“‘Tis me,” you cup the cheeks of his face almost painfully. He tries to move away from you but you do not yield, “Aegon, father is dead”
You watch your words register in his mind. He blinks his eyes open and takes a breath, pushing you aside. 
“Your jest are not appreciated, my head is murderous” 
“It is no jest, the King died in his sleep” 
Like you had with the Queen, Aegon takes a moment, his eyes are wide looking through you making sense of your words. 
“Father is dead” he repeats. His hand passes through his hair, a look of distress clear on his sunken face
“Yes and your mother and grand feather are searching for you”
“For me? What could they want—”
Realization hits you both like a strong gust of wind, knocking all the air out of the room. The line of succession crosses your mind for the first time. You had thought nothing of the Queen’s words about your fathers dying wish but you understood them now. Of course, the Keep was in disarray because the Hand was trying to sit Aegon on the throne before news of the King’s death spread.
“They mean to crown you” 
Crowning Aegon would be treason and all those who participated would be punished with death. The idea does not frighten you as much as the idea of Rhaenyra on the throne. You’d surely be sent away, sold off to be the pretty little Targaryen wife of Lord who’d defile you. And the realm would fall to pieces with a spiteful malicious woman at its helm. 
Aegon looks at you horrified, “No. They can’t. I am not heir”
“That does not matter, it was the King’s dying wish to have you succeed him”
“On whose word?”
“Your mother’s”
Aegon scoffs, “She is crazed, fuelled by her hatred for Rhaenyra”
“You may think her crazed, but your mother is a woman of the Gods, she would not lie about a matter of this caliber”
He opens his mouth to speak but closes it quickly. His back is against the wall, he looks disheveled, dirty, and disarranged. Tears swell in his eyes and he swipes them away with his sleeve. 
“A dying wish he had years to fulfill” 
“I know not the whims of old Kings, but I know regret. It is clear in the words he spoke to your mother that he wanted you on the throne, his first born son” 
“What kind of brother would I be to take the throne from Rhaenyra?” 
“By the law of Gods and Men the throne is yours. You cannot steal what is rightfully yours” 
“I do not want the throne” he argues 
“Aegon” you plead 
“No! I will not take it,” swiftly his hand grab yours, “Let us climb on board a ship escape to Essos or on dragonback—”
You interrupt his crazed thoughts squeezing his hands, “Listen, Rhaenyra only cares for her own, she has never cared for us. If you let her ascend the throne what will come of your mother? Of Aemond? Of Helaena and your children? ” you pause, “Of me? She sees my existence as blasphemous and yours as opposition. If we leave we are leaving those we love to die. Ascend the throne Aegon, protect us” 
Silence encompassed the room, Aegon ran his eyes over your face searching for answers, trying to understand what was being asked of him and if he could undertake such a task. You return his gaze with soft eyes and gentle hands. 
He had never thought himself a leader let alone a King. He did not want the pressures and responsibilities of leading an entire land. Aegon would no longer be able to hide under his title of prince, as King. He would have to be the picture of Targaryen greatness and regalness—heavy is the head that wears the crown. He wants to laugh at the notion but his chest is heavy with your words. 
“Do you understand?” there’s a desperate edge in your voice and he doesn’t respond, “Aegon, do you understand?”
“Yes,” he nods
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