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“I greatly apologize for all of this, Gowasu. If it hadn’t been for one of *my* universe’s inhabitants, Zamasu might not have, well…” Shin bowed deeply, shutting his eyes. He felt incredibly guilty for everything that had happened, especially since it all went down in the universe *he* was supposed to watch over.
“You need not apologize for anything,” Gowasu interjected. “If meeting Goku was all it took for Zamasu to start feeling such a strong wrathfulness towards mortals, I fear he must have been corrupted to begin with.”
“Ah… Well then, I wish you luck in finding someone to take his place. Getting a new apprentice can’t be easy these days.”
“I don’t doubt it will be, though I am appreciative of your concern.” Gowasu nodded, mustering a smile as he folded his arms behind his back. “Now, I should take my leave. I need some time on my own to figure out what exactly this means for the future of my universe, and I’m sure you could use some rest after all that.”
“Yes, of course. Rest…” Shin adjusted his posture, trying to give proper eye contact but unable to help his eyes darting away. “I bid you farewell, then.”
And with a Kai Kai, Gowasu was gone, back to his own universe. Shin sighed, though instantly felt bad for being so relieved. It was just… he couldn’t stop thinking about Zamasu. That despicable, selfish excuse for a god. Just the thought filled him with a feeling of anger, of hatred, that he lacked the proper words to describe, but that felt strange to him. It fogged his head, knotted his guts, it-
“Sir? Is everything… alright?”
“Kibito!!! Oh, I’m just fine. Right as rain, you know?” Shin forced out a laugh, though it was very, *very* obvious that he was feigning.
“Are you sure, sir?” Kibito frowned, clearly doubtful. “You're a bit red in the face.”
Oh, damn the gods; of course he was. “I… oh, uh…” Shin cleared his throat, trying to make himself seem more presentable, but faltering. There was still some obvious blushing, and his ears were flared out. On top of that, though not visibly blatant, there was this slight feeling of damp, almost stickiness in his pants that he struggled to not squirm at. What a miserable circumstance. “I just, um, need a moment alone, if that’s… alright. I think I might take a stroll.”
“Hm.” Kibito blinked, huffing softly. Though he likely didn't believe Shin's excuses, he certainly wasn't about to argue. “If you say so, then I suppose I have no right to deny you of that. I do hope you consider talking at a later point, though.”
“O-oh, yes, indeed! I’d love to speak more in depth about this. I just… I need a little while to myself, if that’s alright.”
“Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”
-
Shin could hardly understand what was happening, why his body was reacting in this way. He knew these sorts of feelings were typically associated with the sexual attraction that mortals usually experienced. However, that traditionally only stemmed from love, not hate. Was there something people weren’t telling him, or was something wrong with his mind, his body?
Feeling this much anger towards someone felt foreign to him. Sure, there were people he disliked in his lifetime, something he had to admit, but not once had it ever caused this much ecstasy.
He bit his lip, hard enough for blood to be drawn. The taste of it filled his mouth, and he couldn’t help wondering what Zamasu’s blood had once tasted like. That was all it took for him to be pushed over the edge. Shin collapsed into the grass and pulled his disgustingly slimy pants off. He was sopping wet, and, to his surprise, near fully erect. One hand fell to his stamen, which writhed against his touch, while the other rubbed at his oozing stigma.
Thoughts of Zamasu filled Shin’s mind once more. Cruel, hateful, sinful thoughts of Zamasu, of the atrocities he’d committed, of the pain he’d caused. It was hard to believe that he once considered that traitor one of his allies, that they could’ve actually been friends-maybe even close ones-if it weren’t for the superiority Zamasu had felt over all living beings. It all felt so blissfully disturbing
Shin held his stamen together as he pumped repeatedly, biting his lip even harder to prevent himself from making too much noise, especially not wanting to risk uttering the name of the terrible, genocidal man he was getting off to.
He couldn’t help feeling guilty for that as he forced his fingers into his pistil. Zamasu had killed countless people, and here he was, touching himself to the thought like some kind of sadistic whore. Some Kai he was. And yet… How could something so terrible feel so good? The question befuddled him beyond comprehension. He paused the movement in his hands, soaked in precum and mucus, to consider the fact that what he was doing might’ve been wrong, but instantly felt himself yearn for it again.
So, Shin started it up again, stroking and pumping with one hand, and pushing and shoving with the other. His chest raised and fell with a sort of mania he wasn’t too familiar with, but wasn't entirely against. It was overwhelming; fantastical, even.
He thought of Zamasu’s face, Zamasu’s voice, the pride and selfishness that fueled Zamasu’s actions. It absolutely, positively infuriated him, which only served to heighten his libido. He was close to bursting; he could feel it. While it did gross him out to get his own reproductive fluids in the grass, there wasn’t much he could do to prevent the inevitable. He typically prefered to get it over with as soon as possible, which seemed to be what he was going to do this time, as the horrid pictures in his mind heightened in severity.
Zamasu’s corruption led to the distruction of an entire timeline, regardless of any sort of stand-in that could be made. So many lives were lost because of him; all that blood had been on Zamasu’s hands. Shin was practically using it as lubricant. His chest heaved, small sounds slipping from his mouth, until…
Shin pulled his hands, which were now coated in sticky, hazel slime, off himself, rubbing them on the soiled grass. It was a good thing he’d sat down in the vicinity of a lake. After taking a moment to breathe, he walked over, before scooping some of the lake’s water into his hands and rincing his loins. He then brought some water over to that patch of grass, attempting to wash it free of any trace of his lust.
This ended up reminding him of his pants, which were still gross and filthy, So, he picked them up by one of the legs, which thankfully lacked any grime, and brought them to the lake to clean them off.
Thinking back on what had brought him here, he suddenly started to regret saying he’d explain himself to Kibito.