Arning: Yan? HSR You?, Grammar Mistakes, Out Of Character.

₩arning: Yan? HSR × You?, grammar mistakes, out of character.

Let's say you are a Kaslana in the HSR verse, being the "knight" of Humanity is no joke, even more so that you can't even protect your home.

Your homeland got attacked by the Swarms Disaster hundreds of years ago, and you are the only survivor, eventhough not exactly. The price of that is being trapped inside a doll body, you can feel, can touch and can speak, ... like a normal human. But you have no heart inside your body, just an artificial gem that deemed as your source of living. And with that body, you also often got shrink into a size of a grown man palm. Maybe something can change it, but you don't know how.

Oh, and did I mention that you also have amnesia, you have forgotten completely everything before you got transferred into a doll body. That's why you are on a journey to find it back, but on the way, you accidentally lost into a small box. However, you got saved by a tall and muscular man in the name of Veritas Ratio. He is curious about your origin and how your body shrink, therefore allowing you to follow him around as you vow to repay him for helping you out.

In the process, you met Aventurine, a man with a sinister smile and peculiar eyes, who your savior was talking to when they met at the front of the Dewlight Pavilion, The Oak's base of operation. Aventurine sure does notice you, and did ask about you to Ratio, and he replied with just a saying: "research partner", which made the blonde snickers.

However, later when Aventurine got sent out by the Head of the Oak's family, Sunday, Ratio secretly sent you with him, that the professor said it's for you to keep an eye on him, which you do. Aventurine quickly warmed up to you, eventhough he is in an illusion, he still recognizes you as a real person and allows you to follow him on his shoulder.

Maybe in his way, he encountered some drunken men who purposely causing a problem with him, which makes you angered. And with that, you and him discovered that lips to lips touches can make you grow back in some times. After that, you sure did beat up those people and give them to the Bloodhound.

When the time comes, you turned back to Ratio, but got lost along the way 'cause of your size, which makes you meet the Nameless. Surely they are friendly, and helped you out finding Ratio. When you got back on the professors shoulder, you show him the new discovery you founded without a word (or maybe you just can't talk in that form), which makes Ratio mad. But looking at your dumb smile of happiness of finally being helpful to him, Ratio stopped his lectures that was about to spill out and forgive you.

Maybe in the future, you will learned how to protect humanity again, and learned how to love again with the artificial heart inside you. But to vowed to be the shield of humanity is not a good thing at all. Because the people around you will surely never let you go get a single scratch on your face, let alone that you will sacrifice yourself for a person that you don't even know.

But do they know that you are the strongest Emanator in the whole universe, that can rivals even Aeons?

Or....

It's just my new oc lore that I want to share. I might expand it in the future if I got a chance.

Part 2

(unfinished art, credit belongs to me, please don't take it anywhere)

A crossover I have been brainrotting about:

⚠️Grammar errors, kind of like a rant?, I want to talk about my thoughts and alternatives, not to stir things up between this two things so bear with me please.

I've just done watching the full gameplay of final fantasy 7 and Sephiroth is making me feel every aspect of emotions I didn't think I would feel about a fictional character. And along with that, I'm getting back on my Frieren addiction, so when I thought about it, Frieren and Sephiroth is kind of similar.

Appearance wise, they looked kind of the same. White grey hair and bright color eyes. Frieren got this emerald light eyes with a somewhat distant aspect in it and Sephiroth with his cat-like pupils in those cyan mako eyes. Clothing, Frieren wore a color of white with some gold and red sprinkled here and there. But Sephiroth is full black and grey, and I think that's a good contrast of the both of them.

Now personality wise, I found them quite interesting. Because to me, both of them had trouble sympathize with people, and somehow they also had trouble communicating with them.

For Frieren, it's due to her nature as an elf, she had lived a long life of at least thousands of years, and she still has a long journey ahead of her. Her perceptive of time is different from humans, and to an extent because of that, she is kind of stoic, aloof and not as ingenious as the people around her (aka Himmel as the presentation).

For Sephiroth, it's because of his childhood, the environment he was born of and grew up with. He's surrounded by people who doesn't care of *who* he become, but about *what* he become. He was raised to be a weapon, not to be a soldier or a human. That's why he appeared distant and mysterious, maybe a bit harsh or rude(?) to some people.

But for both of them, there are still those who care about them, but the difference is that Frieren still has those people, Fern, Eisen, Stark, friends who she had made along the way and the past memories which she clings onto dearly. That's when she learned about how to love, to understand, to appreciate and to have kindness, emotions and feelings. Eventhough it is a long and far process, we can still see the improvement. That's why the people around you are also a piece of you, because they effect you in many different ways.

Sephiroth on the other hand, has none. Yeah, maybe when he was friends with Genesis and Angeal, maybe some other time he is still has friends and companions, he would even offered his life for his friends when they are in danger, but we all know what happened. That left him with nothing. And that nothing has a part of what turned him into the mad Sephiroth we known from other's point of view (mainly Cloud?).

A great difference I found out between them is that Frieren, knows her past. She remembered everything and lives on with it in her head. It's not like those flashbacks in Frieren is useless you know? But Sephiroth, he only lives a lie his whole life, what was his existence means, what is his life even about, why was he born? He never got those answers his whole life, that's why when he found out about his orgin, he was mad. Mad and crazy, a total completely different to his old composed and yet still kind self.

Now, talking about other aspects, I want to talk about their powers. Frieren is known to be great mage, who is in the team of the Hero Himmel that had defeated the Demon King and are greatly praised. And when said about the strongest, Frieren is not exactly the one. She had lost to a whole numbers of at least 11 mages(?). And talking about other things like a warrior or a knight? We haven't counted at all. But when we said about powerful? Frieren is indeed a powerful one. She greatest power is probably her minds, not with her speed, not with her mana. Her knowledge of magic and her experience of thousand years, is her greatest benefit in fights. We didn't even talk about how calculated and wise she is. That's why I deemed Frieren to be a powerful person.

And for Sephiroth, it's easy to know. He is raised to be a weapon after all. If they didn't make him one of the strongest if not the strongest, then why would they even bother with him?

Both of them are overpowered, let's be honest. Up to the anime right now, there are only a number of people who can maybe defeat Frieren, later on in the manga there will be more, but I would like to think Frieren is overpowered.

And then again, talking about their past, both Frieren and Sephiroth, were raised to be a weapon. For Sephiroth, we all know why. Those mad scientists (*glaring at Hojo*) are sure another breed. And for Frieren, it's because of her hatred for demons that killed her whole village. Flamme did a good job on teaching Frieren, but what she taught was only ways to killed and deceived the demons, not how to live and enjoy life, just like a weapon. But Frieren's fate is different, because there is Himmel, there is Heiter, there is Eisen, there is other people around her who taught her how to live in Flamme's place. It's endearing and lovely.

That's why when I think about it, I find myself laughing at the idea of Sephiroth being Frieren's apprentice. I don't know how, or why did I even thought about that, but I feel like it would turn out pretty wholesome and cute, and it might even helped Sephiroth not turning into the person he is now.

Like in Frieren, years passed by and Fern had passed away, she found herself looking at the boy with sliver hair, frantically finding something amongst the corpses of the soldiers. Frieren eventually helped Sephiroth find his necklace and later on took him in as an apprentice (I don't know how so yeah). Which leads to some sequences of Sephiroth sneaking out just to meet Frieren in a small house near the sea and in the vast forest, far away from the city and everything related.

Maybe something like when Sephiroth was young, he is not as tall as he is now (which is 6'7" aka 197cm-ish??), he is only like the same or taller than 2-3 inches (5-7cm) height as Frieren. So when he left for like years for missions and things, Sephiroth barged into the house and Frieren actually jolted with surprise because Sephiroth is somehow taller than the door now.

Or maybe when Sephiroth met Angeal and Genesis, he would brought them with him when they met Frieren. And don't get me started on birthdays presents, the steak would be the best food Sephiroth could found in his whole life cause look at it!!! Would.

With how Frieren interact with Sein and Stark, even with Fern, I think Sephiroth would appreciate and love headpats from Frieren so much btw. Because I believe this man need physical touches love language and don't forget about the words of affirmation, look at how Fern frequently get compliments from Frieren when she shows something good or great in her improvement. I think Sephiroth would be so downbad for compliments and encouragement words from a Master or like, parental figure.

Roughly calculated by people's assumptions, Frieren is 5'3 (153cm?) and Sephiroth as said above, is 6'7" (197cm?). That would makes Frieren is only as tall as Sephiroth's chest and I find that so fucking cute, omg, I would die for them to interact, especially pre-Nibelheim Sephiroth and Frieren.

Please for the sakes of my life, I want them to interact.

(The art is mine, please don't take it elsewhere without credits)

Testing out brushes

I check the #Edgar Allan Poe hashtag on occasion, and I'm always amused that it's at least 50% some anime that has Poe as a character.

Anyway good luck to the RanPoe shippers out there, I hope our boy Poe hooks up with Ran, whoever that is.

Notes: Slight lapse in judgement moment. (Please comment or reblog with something because I actually dedicated time for this one. I am humbly begging.)

Tw: non-con, gunplay, slight blood play, abusive behaviour, mentions of murder, yandere.

Tagging @yandere-romanticaa on this one, thank you for being the enabler to this (jokingly)

Also on a side note, if you want to listen to something when listening to this, it was inspired by sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, and bo en- pale machine (entire album)

Word count: 4.4K

Dazai had never quite sunken this low before.

He lays down onto the bed, with the gun clattering to the ground. He disregards it as he throws it to the floor, watching it slide across the room. It was useless now, anyways. There were no bullets inside, and it was quite the outdated model, that would be useless against anyone with even the slightest of strength.

All that’s left now is an overwhelming shame. An overwhelming shame that he touched himself, using that weapon for several previous hours, as a means to relieve himself. He feels so disgusted in himself again, as he looks at the rifle, which was now covered in a mixture of his own sweat and cum. It was so disgusting to look at, almost as evidence as to how much he had become a slave to his own desires. Almost as if he was succumbing to some kind of poision that plagued his mind on the daily.

And it didn’t even feel good, he thought to himself. I merely relieved myself enough to clear my mind, if even that.

Dazai looks around the room again. There’s nothing to see, and nothing to feel other than a sick sense of shame. A sense of shame that he decided to touch himself with a gun, while thinking of you. He wasn’t really thinking when he did that, he kind of just did it on impulse, without previous judgement. Yet as Dazai’s eyes dart back to the gun, and his mind drifts to other places. He pictures you cum, and sweat, with a mixture of yours and his cum dripping out of your hole. Your neck is covered with hickeys and bite marks and bruises running down your body. You’re panting, and slightly whimpering from pain, yet you also know he’s the only one who is able to fuck you this good.

He looks down at his cock, which is yet again, hard. He ignores it this time, not wanting to deal with his own arousal, instead choosing to lament over the fact that you were long gone from his life.

But still, he longs for your presence. A person long gone from his life. He longs for you to come back, but you never will.

Dazai shakes his head out of those thoughts, hoping to temporarily think about something else, anything at all that will make prison even slightly more bearable. He looks at the ceiling observing the fluorescent lights, and the solid white ceiling, which reminds him of the situation he’s currently in. Once again, he’s painfully reminded of why he was here. A detainment for ability users, built so they could stay here until they would eventually rot and die. There wasn’t any more to it than that.

He turns on the side again. He doesn’t want to think about that right now, either.

As he lays there, he’s painfully reminded how it’s been two years since you had broken up with him. Not that he was able to keep track of time in prision, but if he were to logically deduce the amount of times he had waken up and fallen asleep, it was about two years since you had broken up with him.

Yet the ghost of your presence haunts him constantly. Even after two years, Dazai had still not gotten over the breakup. No matter how badly he wanted to, he would always come back thinking of you. That you were still there, with him, and not somewhere else. That you still lived with him, that you never ran away from Yokohama, and that he never kidnapped and held you captive. He wanted to imagine that you’d be sitting at home, waiting, wondering where he was, instead of hopping on the nearest train, running away from him.

That you were the same person as who he met you first as, that somewhere at the back of your mind, you still thought of him, at least just a little.

However, he knew all of that was false. You were probably living a normal life again, back in your hometown, maybe with someone else you thought was better for you. Maybe by now, you had recovered from all the injuries he had gaven you over the years, maybe had gone back to the initial person you were, an individual he found so intriguing and rare, that he unwillingly fell for.

He was happy for you, if you were. As happy as he could be, if not exceptionally bitter.

He closes his eyes and imagines you again, how you would look right now, smiling and with some… other guy. It’s not a pleasant feeling imagining you with someone else. Jealousy, envy, and a eerie sort of anger arise in him. No… it’s not anger, he’s not sure what it was. It was closer to an urge to take you away from him, for whatever unknown reason.

Still, you had long ago let go of him, but he’d never let go of you. You had never loved him, but he’d needed you more than man needs air to live. He pictures the scene again, and that possessive feeling comes back again. It felt almost as if the air was being knocked out of his lungs the longer he looked at you and the man together.

You plagued his mind constantly, to the point where Dazai was willing to relieve the pain by almost killing himself with the rifle earlier. Still however, Dazai recognized he needed you as man needs air to live.

Yet he felt rooted in the ground, as his mind went blank again. He felt as if he was fighting a primal urge. He felt as if he was struggling in a room devoid of air, as the helplessness begins to settle down. But he won’t give up, he’ll fight until the very last second to stay alive. All he needs is for that man to be gone. Witnessing so… happy with another man made it feel like every breath he took was poision, and every step he took feel like stabbing his foot. He doesn’t want to see this again.

His vision goes blurry, and then black.

-

Dazai’s now walking down a dark alleyway. He’s not sure where it is, or how he got there, but he feels as if he’s stuck here now. There’s no sense of urgency, rather, a small, creeping sense of paranoia of why or how he’s here. The alleyway feels endless as if he was trying to escape a large maze. He can’t see to the other end of the alleyway, instead, constantly running into dead ends.

He wonders where he is. Was this another dream of some type? He can’t say for sure, it feels too surreal to be reality. But whatever it was, he felt like he was supposed to find something. There was something else in the maze… that was more important than a way out.

You.

At that exact moment, he hears footsteps. He turns around to see you walking in a different direction, at the entrance of the dead end he currently stands in. You’re calm, you look the same as you always did. And he’ll chase after you this time.

Dazai walks as quietly as he could, following you, to wherever you plan on going. You make several turns; one right and three lefts, before you stop at a door. A door that would likely lead you elsewhere, away from him. To somewhere you wanted to go, or needed to go. But that wasn’t the concern. If he let you go through the door, you’d be gone again. Gone forever.

And he’d lose you again. He can’t lose you again.

“Leaving so soon (Y/N)?”

You look at him. You finally turn around and look at him. He can’t tell the exact emotion of your facial expression, but he takes it with relish either way. Your eyes are wide, contorted with fear, yet anger, with some kind of underlying urgency. A urgency to run. Escape the situation.

But Dazai’s faster than you are. As you try to push open the door, Dazai manages to grab onto your arm and push you back first. You gasp for a quick second, and then regain your composure again, glaring daggers into his eyes.

“Let… Let me go you fucking bastard.”

Dazai smirks, “No.”

As on instinct, your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, as your face fills with dread and anxiety. You’re fighting against his grip, trying to break free from the position Dazai has you in, with your arms pinned against the wall, and his knee in between your thighs, keeping you in place. Dazai, on instinct, grips you by the arms tighter, until you feel like there’s no blood going into your hands.

“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” He mutters. “You were going to leave me alone here, and escape. You know I was going to find you either way, right?”

You open your mouth to protest at him, to tell him to fuck off, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your jaw feels glued shut, it feels paralyzed.

“You can never truly escape from me, no matter how hard you try to forget the days I held you captive. No matter what, you’ll meet me again in some way, some shape, or some form,” he continues. “You should just accept that.”

Your heart is racing. You want to speak, you want to scream, but your brain doesn’t seem to be able to command your body to do these things. You’re struggling. Your hands are still shaking, trying to break free of his grip. You’re doing everything you can just to not give out on the spot, because you know, that Dazai will take you away if you do that. But you can’t win against him either. Not like this.

Your jaw trembles, as you attempt to call for help, scream, see if anyone is there. But Dazai is faster than you. He covers your mouth and you make out a muffled sound instead. “Shh.. don’t scream. There’s no one here to help you anyways.”

His voice sounds so gentle, so soft, it sounds loving, and genuine, if only you didn’t know what he had done to you at all. Dazai was always good at this, you could never say no to him, he always knew how to make your irrational heart win against your logical brain. Even though you could deny it to yourself all you wanted… if Dazai wasn’t so… cruel to you, you would have fallen for him several times over. But he wasn’t.

He was a monster. A monster with a luring personality, and a luring face, waiting for you to fall. Waiting for you to fall so he can posses you wholly. And you would have never known otherwise, until truly understood who and what he was.

“Just let me have my way with you, just this once, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer. It wasn’t like he was going to listen whether you said yes or no, anyways. No matter what your answer was, he was going to continue with his actions.

And so, he kissed you. As always, they start off so gentle, so tender, that you could believe it was true. That he wasn’t going to be rough with you later on. His sweet demeanor could only last so long before he lost control of himself.

So you were right. Within moments of your lips touching, his kissing instantly became more desprate, as if his life depended on it. Soon, you begin trying to pull back to breathe, but Dazai won’t let you. He’s waited two years, he’s not going to wait any longer.

So you try to breathe through your nose with as much oxygen as you can get. Dazai doesn’t stop, he’s trying to engrain the taste of your mouth inside his brain, he’s trying to make this last forever. It’s what he truly wants.

And so the gentleness that masks him as human is gone now. He’s doesn’t care if you’re struggling to breathe, or if this is all wrong, that he should let you have your own free will. He’s acting as a man who has not seen oxygen in years. A man that has been rejuvenated back into life by your presence.

And so his actions, initially kissing, have now turned into an action so rough, that it was making your mouth bleed slightly. And he doesn’t stop. The blood gets smeared over both your mouths, the taste of the iron stinging your tongue, and the back of your throat. It gets into his mouth too, and smears over both your lips, almost like a lipstick.

And only when it’s like that, does he stop. But you know this is far from done. You know what happens next and you don’t want it to happen. You inhale through your mouth, trying the best to ignore that your mouth is bleeding. You chest heaves up and down, while Dazai watches, wiping the blood off your blood off his mouth, and tasting it.

It’s addictive. It tastes so sweet to him.

Dazai then grips your chin with his index finger and thumb, while running his thumb over your lips. It’s supposed to be an intimate gesture, maybe a slightly romantic one, but you flinched either way.

You had always reacted this way to Dazai’s touch. No matter how many times he touched you, it always felt foreign to you. None of his actions felt they were done purely as of itself. They always led onto to something, often meant to confuse you. You hated it. You couldn’t what he wanted to do when he did certain actions and you always got the feeling he was playing with you for the fun of it, and that was most likely the case, most of the time.

Dazai smears the blood on your face and admires you.

Your face is visibily red, from the aggressive makeout session,, and your hair is discheveled, covering fractions of your face. Dazai brushes those strands away, as he looks at you. In return, you glare at him, feeling slightly grossed out, but in no position to protest. He then lets go of your arms, letting you fall slack against the wall for a second, and the realization hits again. Your heartbeat quickens at that, and you feel the urge to run, again.

Before you can make a move, you’re held in place again, by Dazai’s knee, which held you securely to the wall. You watch in terror as he takes off his coat and tosses it aside, discarded on the floor. No words are exchanged between the two of you, as you stare at him. Dazai moves his hands towards your chest, and starts unbuttoning your shirt as well.

“D-dazai… please stop…” you mutter.

Dazai puts a finger over your lips. “Just relax, and try to enjoy it, okay? I’ll make sure you feel good, and that you’ll never forget this time.”

“N-no that’s not what I mean. I don’t… I don’t want to do this…please…”

“It’s okay, darling. You know you want this, either way.”

The very air around you and Dazai seemed to be suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite say. It was tense, almost like an elastic band pulled to the very limit of what it could do, awaiting to snap at any moment.

And you were angry. Angry at Dazai that he wanted to do this. Angry at yourself for being caught by him. You felt an indescribable rage inside of you for what he had done to you over the years. Yet everytime, he still says he loves you.

Dazai would never let you go.

No matter where you went, he’d always find a way to get you back. You’re the only thing that he has left. The only thing that he truly wants to live for.

But you didn’t want to accept that for yourself. In fact, you couldn’t care less why the stupid bastard was so obsessed with you, to the point where you got sucked into this dream. You use the free hand, and slap Dazai in the face. It catches him off-guard enough for you to run back towards the door and open it. It creaks open, only for his hand to cover your mouth again, pushing you back against the wall, and keeping you in place.

“You’re not leaving.” Dazai snarls into your ear. “Try all you want, but I’m not letting you go.”

You claw at his hand, trying to pry it off.

“Maybe I should fuck you stupid enough, so you never think of doing that again, hm?”

You gaze at him in horror this time, while his hands travel back to your shirt and unbutton it completely this time, letting it fall to the floor. You wince slightly, due to how cold it is in the alleyway. Dazai then moves to your pants and begins unzipping them, and pulling them down to your ankles.

You once again, slightly recoil in disgust of his actions, but in no position to protest or escape. Now, you’re almost naked, left to the mercy of Dazai to do what he likes with you.

Tears sting your eyes. The, what felt like, slow torture of this entire situation felt painful.

Finally, Dazai takes off his pants. He’s painfully hard, and you cringe in disgust about how your fighting, struggling, and even crying aroused him so much.

Dazai moves his hands behind your back, unhooking your bra, and then he moves to your underwear. The last barrier separating you and him. He takes it off, noticing how wet it really is, and then tossing it aside too.

“My, my, (Y/N). You were that wet from just kissing? I thought you didn’t want this at all.”

“I-I don’t.”

“But your body does. You may deny it all you want, but your body yearns for me. You’ve been leaning into my touch ever since we met. Sure, you’re disgusted in what I’m doing, but do you want to know what your body thinks?”

A pure look of anger which slowly changes into fear fills your face. Dazai leans into the crook of your neck.

“It’s nice to be held be Dazai, isn’t it? You can’t change biological desire. And I think… you know I understand that better than anyone.”

And so, Dazai turns you onto your back, and pushes his entire cock inside of you. You hiss from the sudden intrusion that felt all to familiar and foreign at the same time.

And it reminds you of how painfully well he knows you, yet how little you know him.

And you feel his hands grab onto your hips, and he begins bouncing you up and down on his length, never failing to hit that place inside of you that sent sparks of pleasure up your body.

And he wasn’t being gentle this time, too. If he had been going any faster than he already was, you were sure it would have hurt more than brought pleasure to you.

And he repeats these actions, over, and over. It’s always been that way. Yet your mind felt like it was still melting from the actions. You can’t help it. You can’t help yourself. It feels so good, and you know only Dazai can do this to you.

You almost have to bite back on moaning as he constantly hits that spot. You refused to give him that satisfaction.

Dazai seems to notice this as well. “Don’t hold back. You know I’ll get what I want in the end, anyways.”

Your breath hitches. You knew that. But you didn’t want to give Dazai the satisfaction of having all power over you. But that was all slowly becoming impossible as you came to the realization that physically, you had always wanted Dazai carnally, your mind just believed otherwise.

And as Dazai pushes you down particularly hard that time on his cock, you can’t help but loudly squeal at how good it really felt. It felt mind-numbing lay good. You enjoyed the pain, all too well.

Dazai smirks against your neck again, knowing that he had gotten you in a state where he has all the power. He leans into your neck. He bites down on the flesh, hard enough to draw blood. He licks at the blood enjoying the taste.

And at this exact moment, your hole clench around him too, signalling that you were close to your high.

Dazai groans slightly, taking in the pleasure of the feeling. But he was never kind enough to let you reach your high on the first round.

And he wasn’t going to be kind this time, either.

He bounces you on his cock at a more rapid pace, as your moans get higher and higher, until your cunt is clenching around him tight enough that he almost felt like you could snap his cock off.

And to think you didn’t like it? It made him scoff.

Dazai feels himself chasing his high too. It had been so long… since he had last done this. He felt fulfilled. He felt like he, himself, were on cloud nine, all his previous emotions relieved, instead a dark sort of pleasure replacing any previous emotions.

You’re no different yourself. Despite your anger and hatred towards him, even from one look at your eyes, he could tell you were craves this in a carnal way as well. And for miles around, only the slapping of skin, combined with wet noises, and moaning could be heard. There was no need for anymore than that.

But then it all stops. You look at him in confusion, whining slightly, as he pulls out. Dazai never let you come the first time. He would reduce you to a whining, brainless, mess before allowing you to cum. Only to let you cum so many times, that you wouldn’t even be able to walk the next day.

Yet as for himself, he would cum countless times, until your holes were filled with him, and until your body was covered in it. His cum.

You wince at the gross sticky sensation between your legs again. You feel Dazai’s cum running down your thigh, and it feels disgusting. Normally, you’d yell at him for him to pull out, but right now, your mind was too hazed with other things to care.

“You think you get to cum on the first round after acting like that?”

You don’t respond, trying to get rid of the feeling of being so empty.

“You’re really that desperate, aren’t you?”

You still don’t respond, breathing heavily. Your mind is numbed again, still trying to recover from the myriad of sensations hitting you. Your mind is still hazy with lustful desire.

Dazai sighs, “I suppose I’ll just have to make you cum over, and over, and over, until you can’t anymore.

Your eyes slowly widen again, as you stare at him. “No…. No… please anything but tha-“

“Shh… shh… it’s okay belladonna. You’ll feel so good at the end of it. Promise.”

“No please… Dazai, I didn’t mean it like that. Please, please… it’ll hurt….”

Dazai caresses your face. It’s a gentle, tender action that you want to lean into. But you know it feels more like a nurse preparing you for a needle. A very painful needle that would scar you your arm, that would make you look in shame for the rest of your life.

He kisses you, again, and you have no choice to accept what he gives you.

-

Dazai looks at you. You’ve came more times than he could actually count, to the point where you weren’t even conscious anymore. You’re covered in cum, sweat, and scratch and bruise marks. A mixture of yours and his cum drips out of your hole, and he takes the sight in with a sick sort of satisfaction.

He’ll a,ways love you. In his own sick, twisted way. Every step he takes, every breath he takes. He’ll do it all for you. You don’t belong to anyone else. You’re his, only his.

No matter how far you go, you’ll always be pulled back to him.

He picks you up, and kisses you on the forehead. You look so peaceful.. sleeping. He drapes his jacket over you, and puts his clothes back on.

“Let’s go home now, shall we Belladonna?”

He walks out of the alleyway, his footsteps echoing throughout the walls.

—-

One light flickers.

Static fills Dazai’s ears. He opens his eyes. He sits up disoriented, looking around at his surroundings.

That’s right.

He’s still in prison, he’s still detained in this room, and he forever will be. Until he tries to escape. Until there’s a way out of this, he‘ll just have to stay here, and hope for the best. At this moment, he remembers why he was here in the first place.

He turns on his on his back again. The desolate ceiling mocks him.

But his mind doesn’t want to think about that now. That dream he just had…. It felt so surreal yet real at the same time. He wonders if you were actually there, or if it was just a figment of his imagination.

There’s an obvious answer to that question, though. It’s not even worth asking.

You’re gone. Forever. He doesn’t even know where you are. You don’t know where he is either.

He thought of that dream just to relive his own desires. There’s nothing more to it. Everything is still the same. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel some delusional hope that something was different today.

But he should crush that hope before disappointment gets to him again.

Just then, there is a knock in the door. He wonders who it is. As he walks towards the door, he wonders why the prison guards are bothering him. Yet again. It wasn’t like he had done anything over the previous days.

He twists the doorknob, thinking about what he’s going to say this time. Maybe he’ll even punch them in the face.

However, as he pulls the door back, it’s not what he expected at all.

No… maybe being hopeful worked, for once. Maybe the dream was to tell him something.

It’s you.

You’re here.

And if looks could kill, he would just be about dead now.

GOOD LUCK CHARM

HSR || Aventurine x fem! Reader || smut

Synopsis: You are a pharmaceutical scientist who has been known as a walking good luck charm your entire life. Exhausted from working tirelessly and having to experience the bad luck of others, you decided to take a small vacation to Penacony, where you end up crossing paths with a certain gambler.

Since you've been young, you've been told you were a walking good luck charm.

But sadly, you only brought luck to others, not yourself.

You could remember all the times you've accidentally brought luck to others. Some are more appreciative than others. They, of course, never knew their bringer of luck was a random woman who had no other abilities.

The first time you brought luck to someone was your mother. You had scraped your knee one day while playing with some random children in one of the subareas of Central Starskiff Haven. Fat tears streamed down your cheeks as you threw your head back, wailing your little heart out until your mother scurried to your side in a panic. She comforted you, brushed away your tears, cleaned your wounds, and even placed a loving kiss on top of your bandaged knee. And just a few hours after that, she got the best news of her life. She got a promotion in her job that would pay her handsomely, securing both of you a comfortable life.

The second time was when you were comforting a new friend. They ranted to you about how they were on the verge of being homeless. As they bawled their little heart out, you pulled them into an awkward embrace and reassured them that everything was going to get better. Not even a day later, they arrived at your house with a toothy grin. Their eyes glimmered brightly as they relayed the good news to you. Their family had inherited a large sum of money, which not only paid off all of their debts but also left them with enough to last the next few years. After that, they disappeared, leaving nothing but a letter.

At first, you thought nothing of it and considered it to be a coincidence. But as strokes of luck continued to happen to people you had come in contact with, you realized it wasn't a coincidence, far from it, actually.

Sadly, you didn't have any luck to spare for yourself. It seemed like you took on everyone's stroke of bad luck. For with every stroke of good luck you experienced a horrendous amount of bad luck. For example, the last person you remember accidentally giving good luck too, you were almost crushed by a wooden crate that was carrying a heavy yet fragile item. It was honestly ironic and kind of funny.

Your mom constantly fretted over your well-being until she eventually moved. She got on the next airship and left for Herta's space station. Why? Well, not only was she offered a position to research her object of interest, but she also found it to be much safer than the Xianzhou Luofu. She also thought it was a great opportunity for you to build on your knowledge and possibly inspire you to research subjects relating to your ‘gift’.

Living on the space station was unique and did lead you to becoming a researcher of sorts. Although you didn't specialize in the subject of luck. Instead, you specialized in the topic of pharmaceutical medicine.

After getting injured after every stroke of good luck, you dedicated your time on that spaceship researching different types of medicine, their purpose, the benefits, the side effects, and the procedure on how certain medicine was created. You found it absolutely fascinating, far more fascinating than the conceptual research of good and bad luck.

After reaching adulthood, you left the spaceship under the guise of a pharmaceutical scientist. You have acquired the skills and knowledge. You spent days to months traveling from world to world, creating and distributing medicine for the ill, specifically for those who weren't as fortunate when it came to money. But, you also, as discreetly as possibly, gave them luck. You would remove your ivory gloves whenever handing them their medicine, making sure to graze their fingers with yours.

You worked tirelessly until you finally decided to take a small vacation. All the strokes of bad and good luck taking a toll on your body. You needed a break from being a walking good luck charm. So, with as much money as you could scrounge and with a fiery determination, you reserved a room in the Reverie Hotel months in advance.

The day you arrived at the hotel, you couldn't help but admire the many floors that stretched on for what seemed like miles. They were stacked upon one another until they practically touched the heavens. You admired the occupants, many dressed in clothing you couldn't afford. Even the staff was dressed nicely, which made you feel very underdressed.

You carefully approached the reception desk, making sure you didn't accidentally brush past someone, but it seemed luck wasn't on your side, which was pretty funny given your situation.

“Oh! I'm so sorry!” You apologized after accidentally bumping into a blonde who adorned extravagant yet colorful clothing. He was decked out in expensive jewelry that glimmered brightly underneath the large chandelier. The way he presented himself was similar to a peacock, especially since they were known for flashing their ethereal beauty in hopes of acquiring a mate. But in this man's case, it was probably to flaunt his status.

A wry smile enveloped his lips as he glanced down at you. He studied your form before averting his gaze. “It’s okay. It was just a mere accident.” He reassured with a wide smile. With a small dip of his hat, he excused himself, brushing past you and towards the elevator.

You watched him leave before shrugging and approaching the reception desk once more.

“Hello ma’am. Do you have a reservation with us today?”

You nervously responded, fidgeting, and you watched the attendant type your information into the system. You waited with bated breaths until the woman finally lifted her head with a professional smile. “Ah yes… Miss (Name), welcome to the Reverie Hotel. Here is your key, along with instructions on how to get to your room. If you have brought any more luggage, our bellhopper would gladly assist you in carrying them to your room.”

“No need.” You dismissed with a small smile before departing. You read the information on the small slip of paper while patiently waiting for the elevator. Once it arrived, you didn't hesitate to get on, press your floor number, and once again, wait for it to ascend to your desired floor.

After a few seconds, you finally arrived at your door and scanned the long extending hallways before deciding to go right. You checked each room number until you eventually found yours.

You didn't even waste a second in kicking off your shoe, dropping your luggage by the entrance and shrugging off your coat. You approached the dreampool, a large clam filled to the brim with glowing blue water. You hesitantly dipped a foot in, taking in the temperature. But, you were surprised to know that there was neither a heat nor a coldness that radiated from the liquid. You can feel it brushing against your skin, but it didn't even feel wet.

Ignoring any fear or doubt that surfaced, you lowered yourself into the liquid, allowing it to submerge your body in its watery tendrils. You made sure the back of your head was pressed against the shell and lifted above the water. You laid there until a soothing feminine voice echoed throughout your room. instructing you on what to do and guiding you into a peaceful slumber

When you opened your eyes, you were in front of a large building that greatly resembled the entrance of the Reverie Hotel. Your jaw dropped as you spun, admiring the sights. The beautiful bright colors, the vehicles, the stalls, the stores, and the people. It was absolutely breathtaking. You have never seen something like this before, and you were confident that you'll never see something that rivaled the dreamscape's beauty.

You wandered around aimlessly until you ended up in front of a casino. You knew that with your luck, you wouldn't win anything, but it wouldn't hurt to try! So, with a grin, you entered and were instantly greeted with a sickeningly sweet floral scent.

The loud sound of music drowning out the ecstatic cheers and howls of gamblers hurt your ears. But, it didn't deter you. You continued until you found a counter that exchanged money for chips. You only had a certain amount on you, but it was enough to last you a couple of games.

So, for what seemed like hours, you gambled all of your money away. Indulging in the delicious food and the addicting alcohol that traveled down your throat quite smoothly. It was sweet yet tangy with a little kick to it. With every drink, you could feel your mind becoming cloudy with every passing second. Your body became warm, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes hazy. You swayed with every step you took. Yet, you still retained some semblance of consciousness.

Alluring eyes watched your every movement. They watched as your figure brushed past people and just a few seconds later said the person had a sudden stroke of luck. They watched in mild amusement as you leaned over someone hitting their head against the panel of the slot machine while crying their heart out. You tug off your ivory gloves and brush your hand against their arm, while whispering reassuring words into their ears. You persuaded them to try once more and not even a second later they hit a jackpot.

Before they could thank you, you already disappeared. Wandering through the casino before finding a spot at a roulette table with a glass of alcohol in hand. You giggled as you counted the chips you had remaining. Just as you had expected, you weren't lucky in your bets. You have lost quite a sum of money and have resorted to drowning your disappointment away with booze. Regardless of this fact, you continued to place one or two bets and then dip.

Just as you were about to place a few chips on your desired color and number, you were stopped by a young man. His gloved hands enveloped your wrist and guided your hand to place a bet on the opposite color than the one you were going to bet on. Your brows furrowed as you averted your gaze to the dirty blonde who had the audacity to grab you without your consent.

Just as you were about to complain, your words died on your tongue as you locked eyes with captivatingly beautiful eyes. Their color was unique yet so breathtaking.

A sly smile formed on the man's lips as he released your wrist. He moved his head to the side so that his ears could graze your ear with every word that left his lips. “It’s best if you bet on red during this round.” Was all he whispered to you as he leaned away and placed his own chips by your own.

You didn't utter a word in response. Instead, you remained silent as you studied him. The clothing he adorned was only familiar until it finally clicked. It was the man you had accidentally bumped into at the reception hall of the hotel. Although, currently, he wasn't adorning his hat or his sunglasses.

“Congratulations ma'am.”

“Huh..?” Shifting your gaze to the Croupier, you were shocked to see her sliding more chips in your direction with a smile. You blinked a couple of times, trying to process what had just happened before you let out a noise of surprise.

You glanced at the man beside you, wanting to thank him but he merely introduced himself with a smile before you had a chance to say anything.

“We have yet to introduce each other. My name is Aventurine, and what may your name be, beloved?”

“...(Name). Nice to meet you.”

For the rest of the game, he guided you on where to place your bet and every time you won. At one point, after many drinks, you decided you had made enough and were leaning against Aventurine.

You don't know when, but you had taken off your gloves and had one of your hands pressed against his chest. At the same time, he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

With every win, he would tilt his head to the side and shower you with compliments, referring to you as his rabbit foot. His lucky charm. Each compliment was uttered in a sultry tone, sending chills down your spine. His hand ran up and down, his fingers occasionally dancing against your clothed waist.

This continued for hours until Aventurine decided he was satisfied with the sum of money he had won and had departed with you in his arms. He held you close to him, uttering words of praise that would cause you to bristle and your skin to grow warm. Your hands were clammy as you struggled to maintain your hold on him. You stumbled and swayed, occasional giggles leaving your lips when his hair grazed your cheeks.

Your ears rung, struggling to catch what Aventurine said to the nearest employee of the casino. All you could catch was “private room” and the rest was unintelligible.

With a wide smile, the dirty blonde guided your giggling figure to one of the many private rooms of the casino. Why? Well…he was curious to learn more about you and your gift. How have you managed to possess such an extravagant blessing? One that many wished to possess. Were you loved by the God's? Perhaps. Or were you just lucky? That could be another possibility.

Thanking the attendant who opened the door for them, he guided you to the nearest couch, helped you sit, before sitting down beside you. Maintaining one hand on your waist, he placed the other on your thigh, gently massaging the exposed skin with a sly smile. He leaned closer to your ear, relishing the expression that morphed on your face when his lips brushed against the shell of your ears once again. He whispered sweet nothings to you, buttering you up until you got comfortable. Until you were vulnerable and willing to answer his questions.

leaning back, Aventurine studied your form with a pleased look. He then proceeded to ask his questions. At first, you hesitated yet…with every question, you slowly started to open up more and more until you finally started to blabber. There were moments where your speech was somewhat unintelligible and was just dunk babble, but in other moments, your responses were unexpectedly detailed.

In the meantime, he continued his ministrations such as kneading your thighs, massaging your waist, and whispering into your ears. He kept going until he was pleased with the answers he got.

When he let go of you so that he could rise from his spot, he was caught off guard by the tight grip that enveloped his wrist. He couldn't even get a word in when he was suddenly pulled back and pinned against the couch.

His eyes widened, his smile faltering as he watched you straddle him, tightening your grip on his arm. You mumbled something underneath your breath as you lowered your head until it was pressed against his collarbone.

He would be lying if he didn't admit that he was caught off guard. Sure, he touched you in ways that could possibly cause the situation to escalate, but he really didn't expect someone who was far too lost in the euphoric haze to react.

“You…You can't leave yet. Y-You have to take respon…sibility.” You muttered as you raised your head, brows furrowed as you glared up at him. “I'm not as drunk as you think I am. Y-You've been…leading me on this entire time. So you…you have to take responsibility!” Your grip around his wrist loosened so that you could place your hands on his chest. You played with the edges of his chest window while simultaneously grinding against him.

Aventurine let out a small chuckle as he studied your figure before placing a hand on your waist. “Are you sure you want me to take responsibility?”

“Yes.” Was all you said before you pressed your lips against his. Your hands traveled down his body as you deepened the kiss. Your rear pressed against his crotch while you nibbled on his bottom lip.

At first, Aventurine hesitated before he softened into the kiss. He returned it with just as much fever and intensity. He returned the favor, biting down on your bottom lip.

A few minutes passed before the dirty blonde leaned back to regain his breath, but you didn't allow him to catch a break. You dove back into a case and slithered your tongue into his mouth, which caught him off guard. His eyes widened as his hands stiffened on your waist. He flinched when you guided his tongue to your lips before sucking on the muscular organ, eliciting a groan from him.

His breath hitched in his throat when you began grinding down on him once more. He could feel his body get warmer and his pants start to constrict, forming a tent around his bulge. Aventurine couldn't even say or do anything because the moment you noticed, you pulled back from the kiss and stared down at the bulge with a smirk.

Fumbling with the belt, you undid it, pulled down his pants and brushed your palm against the bulge.

Aventurine's body became rigid, his eyes wide as a small groan slipped past his trembling lips. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He just laid there, watching as you rubbed his bulge, pressing a sharp nail against the clothed tip.

Giggling to yourself, you continued to rub his bulge through his boxers, leaning forward so you could capture his lips into a kiss once more.

He struggled to maintain his composure or return the kiss. His lips trembled way too much, and he couldn't stop the moans that left his throat. Pleasured chills traveled down his spine when you massaged his tongue with your own. You greedily swallowed the noises he made.

A loud moan soon left his lips when you freed his dick from the tight confines of his boxers. “W-Wai-hngh!” Aventurine threw his head back with a loud moan when you enveloped your fingers around his shaft in a semi-tight hold. You pumped your fist, watching in mild amusement as the blonde haired man writhed underneath you. His shoulders trembled, and his lips quivered.

No matter how hard he bit down on his bottom lip or tongue, he couldn't restrain the loud noises that he made. And they merely got louder when you released your hold on his length and crawled back until your lips were hovering above his dick.

“I'm not r-ready…agh!” Aventurine groaned when you licked the slit, lapping up the salty precum that bubbled and spilled from his slit. You lapped it up like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Then, when he least expected it, you lowered your mouth onto the tip of his dick, sucking and twirling your tongue around it. After a few seconds, you lowered yourself further until the tip of your nose was pressed against his pelvis. The tip of his dick pressing against the back of your throat, causing it to restrict around his length, eliciting a loud gasp and groan from the blonde.

You stayed there for a few more painful seconds before you lifted your head until your lips enveloped only the tip. You lapped up his precum once more before you began bobbing your head. The noises that you made, the way your flattened tongue rubbed against his dick, and the way your throat constricted around him drove Aventurine absolutely wild.

One hand was draped over his eyes while the other positioned itself on the back of your head. He grasped at the back of your head for dear life while he bucked into your mouth. His moans and pleas grew in volume as he practically pistoned himself into your mouth, trying to chase his high.

And when his core was enveloped with an overwhelming warmth, his hips stuttered. Your throat constricted around him once more as he swelled and grew in length until finally, he released himself into your mouth. You, without missing a beat, swallowed his load in greedy gulps while leaning back, a hand positioned underneath your chin to catch any seven that managed to slip out of your mouth.

Aventurine couldn't bring himself to move. He was exhausted. His body twitched and trembled. He tried to process what had just happened, but you didn't allow him to.

Taking advantage of his temporary haze, you stripped yourself naked, kicking off your underwear and throwing your constricting bra to the floor. You shuddered at the cold wind that grazed your flushed skin.

“(N-Name)!” Aventurine gasped as he watched you wrap your fingers around his hardened length once more, pumping your hand while your free hand grazed your folds. He watched as you played with yourself, your hips bucking as moans spilled from your lips. When you tighten your grip around his dick, he can't help but gasp, thrusting into your hand.

At this point in time, he was far too lost in the pleasure and pain. The way you played with his sensitive dick drove him absolutely wild. It made his head cloudy and his knees weak. His hands shook as he tried to grab your arm, but he was only met with failure. Aventurine could just watch through bleary vision as you prepared yourself while simultaneously playing with him.

His voice died in his throat, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched you hover yourself over his throbbing dick, guiding it to your weeping entrance. Aventurine couldn't bring himself to protest, far too lost to even think of the consequences. But he did feel aggravated watching as you teased him with a smirk.

So, taking advantage of the fact that you were preoccupied, he lifted his quivering arms, grabbed your rear, and slammed you down onto him.

You let out a noise of surprise, falling onto the blonde in shock. Your knees quivered, and your lips parted. Slowly, the pleasure crept in, washing away the pain from the sudden penetration. You wanted to speak, but all that came out was unintelligible blabber. You splattered and moaned as Aventurine held you in place for a few more seconds before he started thrusting into you.

His thrusts were fast, yet they had no tempo. He merely moved with vigor, caring less if you felt pleasure in his movement. Aventurine dug his fingers into the supple skin of your ass, spreading your cheeks as he continued to thrust into you like a wild animal.

It hurt…but it was so good. The pleasure outweighs the pain. The way his dick slammed against your walls drove you wild and weak. You could hardly even think anymore. You couldn't process what was occurring and just laid there as Aventurine drilled into you.

Aventurine let out a moan as he felt a familiar warmth envelop his pelvic area. His core. And, treating it like an incentive, his pace increased along with the harshness of his thrust. The way your warm walls tightened around him caused him to grit his teeth and throw his head back. His nails dug into your skin, leaving crescent marks.

But, when he brushed past a certain area, you seemed to tighten more around him until you started to practically strangle his dick. He gasped in shock, his eyes widening in surprise before hissing. Tears bubbled in his eyes while he whispered from the pain and the pleasure, and yet he didn't let it deter him.

Aventurine continued to brush against your g-stop, causing your eyes to roll behind your head. Although, the moment he started to swell, that was when you truly felt bliss. His thrusts became sloppy, yet they still maintained their ferocity. And, by the way he swelled and the loud moans, you knew he was close.

The both of you soon threw your head backs, your moans loud enough that they could be heard by the others outside, but you could care less.

Your walls tightened around Aventurine's dick, spasming as you came, the heat in your core growing in intensity, practically scorching you from the inside. Aventurine soon joined you with a whimper, tears streaming down his as he held you in place, spilling his sperm into your pussy, which practically milked him.

While trying to catch your breath, you lifted yourself off of Aventurine, elbows shaking as they struggled to maintain your weight. You moved to get off of the blonde, but out of nowhere, he grabbed your waist and soon pinned you against the couch. Your eyes widened as you glanced up at Aventurine before your gaze slowly traveled down to stare at his dick, watching as it slowly came to life once more, growing in length.

Aventurine threw your legs over his shoulders and positioned himself to your entrance once more. His lips curled into a wide smile as he cupped the back of your neck. Lowering his head, his lips grazed yours as he spoke, “we're not done yet.”