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#the packaging is so adorable... obsessed....
uwooyoungs · 11 months
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got more olive young stuff today (bc i had a birTHDAY COUPON I SWEAR) nd look at my cute new kuromi cushion foundation
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ladybeug · 10 months
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MAN THE MUSICAL NUMBERS CAUGHT ME SO OFF GUARD I HAD TO PAUSE AND STARE FROWNING okok!!! so the thing was that one time agessss ago you said liking ml fanfics is just wanting to read the same story over and over again and after that textbook 2016 post reveal final kiss that sentence just flashed in my mind and everything that happened in the movie (the ladynoir patrol fighting in the rooftops, the adrien snapping at his dad, gabriel being actually decent) just shifted in context for me and the realization of how fanfic coded the movie is and how that directly related to my enjoyment was so clear i couldnt stop laughing hdhshsjs
WOW ACTUALLY
i remember saying that and its STILL TRUE!! And honestly you're putting it in perspective for me, thats why i liked the things i liked about the movie. like the ladynoir patrol fighting on the roofs also did lowkey make my dreams come true they could have done whatever they wanted in the rest of the movie, that scene is what i live for.
And that last scene really did feel like it was out of a fanfic, A 2016 FANFIC, its OLD FANDOM VIBES. back when we were still chewing up the concept of a reveal and not picking apart the bones of adrien's identity like mad scientists.
I remember thinking im sure ive read this scene somewhere. idk where but i have. all of it in different pieces a million times.
Anyways thank you for sharing this i love it?? good take
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onlyzhuyilong · 1 year
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Chopard’s Brand Ambassador Zhu Yilong looking absolutely exquisite in his diamonds.
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bunny584 · 5 months
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OBSESSED: GOJO
A/N: Satoru is neither patient nor kind. Pity the poor soul that crosses him. So, don’t cross him 🤭 (ok ok I swear the Yuuta one is up next, Satoru was just being demanding, per usual).
C/W: This man is his own content warning LOL. Mature, 18+
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“So. Damn. Pretty”
Satoru snaps a photo of you bent over, contemplating the pastries. Another one to add to the infinite album of his only muse.
You’re wearing his favorite pair of yoga pants. And his eyes ride your curves without any brakes in sight.
The pants are suctioned to your rounded hips from your hot Pilates class. Your precious little cunt is so puffy from all the heat and sweat, well outlined like a perfectly packaged gourmet dessert.
You never wear underwear with them. And always try to skirt by him when you come home after your workout. Self conscious about how he always tosses you on the kitchen counter and laps you up until you’re screaming his name like a prayer. Eventually squirting all over the Italian marble.
Satoruuu. You couldn’t have waited until after I showered?
You always blush and whine and avoid his gaze. Hands squeezing down on your thighs, trying to hide how they tremble for him.
His adorable, sweet girl.
He leans back against the window of the coffee shop. What’s a couple more minutes of eye-fucking?
Satoru places his rounded black glasses in his back pocket and pops a dark chocolate Hershey kiss in his mouth. What he really wants is your pussy melting on his tongue but chocolate will do for now.
“He’s so hot.” The shrill, irritating, buzz from the airheads next to him shear through his daydream about you.
“Hey, Blue eyes!”
“Sorry sweetheart. I’m spoken for.”
Satoru flashes one of his empty, razor sharp grins. Which means it’s the end of the conversation for him, but the start of a lifelong infatuation for the other party.
Eyes back on you.
He pierces through you. 3 of the 7 cardinal sins wage war against each other within him.
The barista is looking at you how he looks at you and well…
That simply won’t do.
He approaches you like a lion stalking its prey. Satoru towers over you in less than a second. And you don’t notice.
He finds it so troublesome.
You are oblivious and tiny and smiley and vulnerable and so damn trusting. If the Heavens spoke they’d sing your praises. His beautiful, sacred girl.
Men are vile.
With horrible, depraved, nefarious intentions. They see a girl like you and want to violate. And take. And ruin. And push you to your knees. Pin your head against a wall. Shove his cock through the back of your throat until you’re choking and gurgling his name. Pathetic, pretty pleas for mercy. Hot salty crystalline showers raining from your baby doll eyes — it always makes him rock hard. The way you cry when you’re overstimulated.
Fuck.
Wait. What was he thinking about again?
Right. Protecting you. From scumbags like this fucking barista who won’t stop undressing you with his beady eyes.
He can make those eyes go away. Real quick.
You’re up next to order. Satoru snakes his hand around the back of your neck. You startle back into him, just like a wild doe.
“Sato—“
He kisses the rest of his name off your lips. Tonguing every corner of your sweet mouth. Sucking on your warm muscle. He smirks against your feeble attempts to pull away. Gorgeous face flushed cotton candy pink. So shy. So embarrassed. He can feel himself stiffen in his pants.
“S—sat…”
“I’ve missed you, princess.” He pulls away and you’re gasping for air. Sexy little pants. He could fuck you in the middle of the shop right now.
And he will.
“Hi Satoru,” you purr his name and his dick twitches, “you’re being dramatic. It was one night.”
You toss a glance at the barista apologetically. And Satoru decides he definitely has to end him.
“Can I have a small vanilla latte please?”
God. Your voice alone grabs him by the fucking balls.
You longingly look back at the pastries, and furrow your brows. As if your figure isn’t goddamn perfect. You don’t need those silly pilates classes. Satoru could work you out on his cock every day. Would be more than sufficient enough.
“She’ll also take the biggest slice of berry cake you have.” He follows, shamelessly gripping your ass in his large palm.
You muffle a falsetto whine. But Satoru knows that sound. You act so sheepish and innocent. But there’s a pool of lust between your legs right now and he can’t wait another fucking second to sink into it.
“Good choice.” The idiot smiles and Satoru could rip his trachea out then and there.
“And I’ll have an Americano. 2 extra shots of espresso.” He barks his order before kissing you on the forehead.
“Baby, go get us that back booth in the corner. Yeah?”
You give him a tiny smile that dismantles him. So he grips the back of your head for another bruising kiss before sending you off. He lingers on you walking away from the counter. Brazenly taking another photo of you. Completely ignoring the growing line of patrons behind him.
Satoru turns back to the barista, and he watches the blood drain from his face.
His favorite.
A hunter and the hunted.
“Pretty, right?” Satoru muses casually, reaching for the wallet in his back pocket.
“Uh, y-yeah man. S-she..”
“Probably want to fuck her, don’t you?”
Satoru flashes a toothy grin, pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills. He doesn’t carry anything smaller than that.
“W-what? No. No man. I was just. I was being polite.”
Satoru motions for the barista to lean in to hear his next words. He has no choice but to oblige.
“Well, I am going to fuck her. Senseless. In that back booth over there. And if you so much as look in our direction. Or look at her ever again, I’ll rip your throat out and feed it to stray dogs.”
Satoru palms Barista’s cheek two times before stuffing the hundreds into his shirt pocket.
“Keep the change.” Another grin as bright as the sun before sauntering over to the booth with your treats.
“Mmmm, gimme gimme.” You paw at the caffeine and cake, less guilty that you didn’t order the sweet treat for yourself.
He purposefully places them out of your reach.
“Hey! Why—“ Satoru’s large hand encases your neck and pushes your head against the plush booth.
The way you gaze up at him. Wide-eyed. A pretty little deer in his headlights. Oh he loves that about you. How he can read your book front to back with his eyes closed.
His cock can’t stop beating. Against his zipper. Against his thigh. It needs the nourishment between your legs.
Satoru wires his tongue back in your mouth. He bites down on your perfect lips, knowing it’ll get red and flushed and swollen. Just how he likes it when you’re sucking the cum out of him. He can’t feed you his cock here, not yet. But you can sit on it.
You struggle to keep up with his pace. Little moans, little gasps, little “ohs”.
He reluctantly pulls away. Still close enough to your face that the tip of his nose grazes yours. Satoru stares at you. Unblinking. With a quiet smile on his face. He knows what his intensity does to you and he can’t get enough of it.
You squirm. Eyelashes fluttering. Looking in every which direction except into his eyes.
“Look at me baby.” He strums your chin.
“Y-yes daddy.” You whine. So obedient. So pliant.
He much prefers you like this. Not like last night. Out with your friends. Without him. Not letting him pick you up or bring you home. He fucking hates that.
But this. This is perfect.
Satoru stands to his full height. He shrugs out of his black leather jacket before sitting in the booth next to you. Not once breaking his gaze.
You need to be disciplined.
And there’s nothing Satoru loves more than to discipline you with his dick.
“On my lap, little one.”
You eagerly nod and nestle into his legs. His length digging into your clothed flower. He can already feel the heat emanating from your petals.
He drapes his jacket over your lap. Concealing how your bodies are about to mesh.
“I’m going to fuck you, right here, baby.”
“S-satoru, h-here?” He loves when you sound so desperate and nervous. Satoru answers your question with a nip and lick on your earlobe.
“Pull them down.” He husks in your ear.
But Satoru is an impatient man. Your tiny hands take a millesecond too long so he drags your pants to your thighs himself. At the same time unzipping his pants just enough to pull his blushing, leaking lead pipe length.
He’s too big for you. For your petite, doll-like frame. And whenever he rocks you down to his base there’s a Satoru-shaped bludge at the center of your feminine torso.
It makes him want to lock you in his room, forever.
“Oh, oh my god.”
You try to pant quietly when Satoru slides all 10 of his thick, almost inhuman inches into you. And your warm, drenched walls clamp down around him. Like it’s the first time he’s invaded you.
He groans into your shoulder blades. Tilting and rocking you in long, languid movements. Purposeful. He wants you needy. Subservient. Under his spell.
“I missed you last night, baby.” Satoru starts his mind fucking.
“M-missed you…”
“I can’t protect you when you’re not by my side, sweet girl.” He suspends his hips and starts small, saccharine bounces. Making your head bobble like it’s connected to your body by a string.
“Men want to hurt you baby. Take advantage of you.” He continues his rhythm.
You grip the sides of the table. Your cunt creaming all over his length. Clipped, falsetto gasps and whines tumbling from your open mouth.
Satoru’s lips graze the shell of your ear and you evanesce into him.
“You need me. Don’t you pretty? To keep you safe.” His lips trail down your jaw. Nibbling little marks. His territory.
“Y-yes, daddy. I need you.”
Satisfied, Satoru lowers himself back down on the booth. Still violating your womanhood with his length.
So fucking pretty. You struggling to catch your breath and squirming all over his cock. Staining his pants with your arousal.
Satoru pets your head. That’s better. All better.
Just like how he likes you.
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aneluvs · 1 year
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magnetic mishap | bucky barnes
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summary: you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic
warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, tears, bucky in love™ (if i missed any pls lmk!)
word count: 0.8k
A/N: i saw this post by @redwolf1123 and i couldn't help myself! this is my first ever bucky fic! i hope i did him justice :) English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. feedback is appreciated!
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The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting a warm ambiance. Bucky Barnes sat on the olive-colored couch, resting his head on the taupe throw pillows you'd fawned over at the flea market, obsessing over the embroidered leaves on the pillows, exclaiming how well they'd match with the couch you'd bought when you first moved in the apartment. That was a memory he was fond of. It was after your first year together- when you moved in together, deciding to look for apartments in Brooklyn.
His legs were propped up comfortably on the other end of the couch. A copy of The Hobbit you gifted him sat in his hands, his eyes flitting over each word, totally engrossed in the worn-out book with deckle edges and a spine that can barely hold up itself he'd read many times.
He looked up from his reading as muffled giggles and the clinking of keys sounded from outside, along with a few curse words as you tried to fit the keys into the lock. After a minute or so, the front door creaked open, and in you came, a stumbling, drunken mess. Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his heart constricting at the bright look on your face as your eyes zeroed in on him.
"Hi, baby!" You called out, your voice slightly slurred with the telltale signs of a fun night out with your friends.
Bucky closed his book, placed it on the coffee table, and waited for you to reach the couch, a smile spreading across his face. He loved these moments- when you returned home all giddy and carefree. You were a ray of sunshine, lighting up his dark, lonely world.
"Hey, doll," Bucky replied, his voice filled with affection, and adoration, as he watched you walk towards him. His eyes were twinkling with love as you finally reached him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you into his lap, and you immediately snuggled up, like it was second nature for you- which it was. "You had a good time tonight?"
You nodded enthusiastically, your head all but bopped up and down and swayed from side to side, your face flushed. "The best time! We danced, and- and we... oh! I have something for you!" You reached into your purse, retrieving a small package wrapped in colorful paper.
Bucky's curiosity was piqued as he took the package from you, carefully unwrapping it, and revealing a set of magnets. His eyes widened in surprise. "Magnets?"
You nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "For your arm!" Your words slurred slightly as you laughed, your intoxication making the idea seem absolutely brilliant.
You took out a heart-shaped magnet, trying to stick it on Bucky's arm, to no avail. It kept falling; you huffed, annoyed, and took out another magnet from the set, this time, one shaped like a rocket ship. Aggravation was quick to take the place of your excitement when it kept falling as well.
Bucky chuckled softly, his heart melting at your drunken enthusiasm. He glanced down at his vibranium arm, knowing that the magnets wouldn't stick, he felt kind of guilty having to break the news to you. "Doll, vibranium isn't magnetic."
Your smile faltered, and your brows furrowed in disappointment. Your intoxicated glee quickly transformed into genuine heartbreak, as tears welled up in your eyes. "I... I didn't think about that," you murmured, voice laced with sadness and disappointment.
Bucky's heart ached at the sight of your distress. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't know. It's the thought that counts." 
You sniffled, lower lip trembling. "But I wanted to your arm to look even cooler. Imagine how cool it would look with magnets, Buck." 
Bucky's heart swelled with love and adoration. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at your antics. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you sighed at the feathery touch of his lips, seemingly content for the time being. 
"I love you, Bucky," you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your eyes shimmering with affection.
"I love you more than words can express," Bucky confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.
At that moment, everything else faded away. Sat in Bucky's lap, wrapped in his arms, your love for one another radiating throughout the room. 
"C'mon," Bucky ushered, "let's get you to bed, honey." His voice was gentle.
"Next time, I'm getting stickers," you mumbled to yourself, a very serious look on your face.
Bucky smiled blissfully, a blush adorning his face. As he held you, he knew that his love for you was unbreakable, even in the face of small disappointments. Your bond was stronger than any magnet could ever be.
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i hope you liked it, pls let me know what you thought of this. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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aniharas · 3 months
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𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦)
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pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader
summary: felix's lack of control over his deep feelings for you, his revisions partner, begins to spiral him into a sick and twisted sense of keeping you as his.
warnings: explicit language, sexual tension & content, themes of purity and corruption, use of cigarettes and alcohol
wc: 2.1k+
Maybe Felix Catton wasn’t the mindless pretty boy at Oxford like everyone had chalked him up to be. Maybe he was, at least until he saw you.
At first, he wasn’t exactly the most excited when he found out his revisions partner was you, a scholarship girl. A first-class student. Always buried in textbooks nonstop, always holed up with nerdy little books doing your nerdy little homework. He never found people like you any fun, so he braced himself for a snoozefest as you plopped down into the armchair beside him.
But Felix couldn’t have ever been more wrong about the pureness that was you. Sickly sweet, serene you. Skin tantalizingly covered by whatever shoddy arrangements Oxfam provided. Black-rimmed glasses with a prescription so high, it made your bambi-like eyes bulge out of your head. Voice so sugary, he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. You were a prude by all means, but you made it look so damn good. God forbid the tutor asked him anything about your essay, it was fuck all in his brain. And god forbid anyone asked him to make sense of what he felt for you.
And so he eagerly showed up to each revision. It started with the simplest of gestures. Holding the door open for you, carrying your books. He noticed you always walked home alone after each session at night, so he took it upon himself to escort you back to your dorm safely. 
And then it was gifts. Things that he could nonchalantly pass off as having extra of. Packaged sweets from the dining hall, an extra No. 2 pencil. He even tried to offer you a cigarette as the two of you strolled across campus. Of course, being the modest girl you were, you refused. He was glad that you did. You were responsible, you were good. He loved that about you.
But it wasn’t enough. Those brief, one-hour sessions were far from enough. Being the workaholic you were, you were hard to find around campus; that bit irked him. The whole “girl” thing was second-nature to him. They came to him in swarms, in fact. Why were you never there? That was fine with him, he liked the chase. He’d find a way.
“Tutor you? Felix, I think you’re doing fine–” “Codswallop, and you know it. You, on the other hand…you’re exceptional.” “I don’t think I’m exactly qualified enough-” “I do.”
And these newfound tutoring sessions were far better than what he had been getting. He never thought he’d look forward to being in a tutorial for hours in a stiff library chair, but the very thought consumed his waking days. Because it was you, dressed in your hand-me-down school jumper, brows adorably furrowed as you hastily scribbled notes across the margins of his essays. He wasn’t exactly the best at writing, but he occasionally found himself misspelling words just to see you get irritated with him. 
“Sometimes it slips my mind that you’re a rich kid. Until I remember we’re at Oxford and this is what you wrote,” you had said one time. Had it been from anyone else, he would’ve blown a fuse. But it was you, who always snuck in bites of your Crunchie between each sentence. You were so genuine, so oblivious to the world around you. He could never be upset with you.
Which is why he felt responsible for you. But how could he protect you when you were so elusive? He considered himself blessed if he found you at King’s Arms on the weekends, or anywhere at all. And blessed he was, on a Friday night, just before Oxford let out for the holidays.
It was you, accompanied by your trashy roommates. “Come on, just once before you go home,” they had whined as they pushed you through the doors. Upon this rare sighting, Felix decided that the story he was entertaining his table with was pointless, ceasing his conversation. It was like he was in a trance, the way he stood from his seat and gravitated toward you. Wordlessly, he plucked you away from your roommates. He figured you were better off with him.
It was clear that you weren’t used to any sort of bar culture, and while he found that endearing, he made sure to look over you. He booted a girl from his group just so he could seat you next to him, all while making sure you didn’t see the nasty glare she gave you. 
Assigning himself as your drink-sitter, he carefully scrutinized whatever you ended up drinking. Any strong liquors that came your way were quickly confiscated, much to Farleigh’s disdain (although he was placated once the extra shots were passed along to him). All you had to your name was a modest mug of beer, which you sipped at tentatively as you tried to make sense of the conversation around you.
You had gotten through one beer, though you were struggling about halfway through your refill. Despite that, Felix was in awe of you. The whining as he took the cup away, the mindlessly giggling at a joke one of the girls told, the fidgeting with the hem of your jumper. How could someone make drinking look so innocent? 
“My face is hot.” “You’ve got a buzz going. It’s quite a look.” “A good one or a bad one?” “A bit of a naughty one.” He quickly earned a punch in the arm from you.
And this was far better than the revisions or the tutoring. To finally discuss something other than academics with you was refreshing. He found himself recounting all of his stories, even the ones he had already told that night, just so he could hear you laugh at everything he said. It was a melody in his ears, a tiny bell jingling beside him.
Once the company began to fall out, Felix took you to get a breath of fresh air just beside the entrance of the pub. “D’you need anyone to take you home?” “Nooo, my roommates are heading back anyways.” “You sure? I can–” “Oh, you’re too kind. Why don’t you have a lover yet?”
The question was so forward and sudden, he couldn’t help but be surprised. You were definitely tipsy.  “Huh…haven’t given much thought to it.” “Well, you should.” “And that means?” “They’d be lucky.”
Felix couldn’t help it; he was out of control, cradling your face into his hands as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. They were indeed hot, you weren’t lying about that. There was silence, anticipation with a bated breath, and then your lips were all that he felt. If anyone was watching, and they most likely were, it was like he was holding himself back. Jaw tensed, muscles taut, brows scrunched. It almost looked like he was in pain.
And he was in pain, his restraint being tested every second he kissed you. Trying so desperately to not have his way with you, to take you home and screw you into his dorm mattress. That’s not the type of person you were.
But boy, did you make it difficult. The mere act of placing your hands against his chest, pressing your body against his. Again, painfully obvious this wasn’t something you did often, but that made it all the more perfect to him. He intended to keep you that way, which is why he let go.
The confusion that overtook your features made him regret his decision more and more, twisting his insides with guilt for leaving you hanging. Your lips, donning a soft shine, mouthed his name, but any sound went fuzzy in his ears. The more he stared at them, the more that forbidden feeling stirred inside of him.
Mumbling an apology, he abruptly stepped back, not even sure of what he was even doing. He had to get away, head home. It was ironic, to long for you so deeply but to hold himself back from indulging in you. He was never one to shy away from what he desired; it was his very nature, his reputation. But he couldn’t just use a girl like you to scratch one of his sexual itches, how could he bring himself to?
And so, Felix turned his back on you, not uttering another word. He pushed through the crowded walkway in a blind frenzy, ignoring the people who tried to strike up conversation. Never once looking back. 
Soon enough, he heaved the grand doors open to his hall, ready to sleep off the feeling until a sultry voice called to him from his right. Annabel. Apparently she had been waiting for him.
It wasn’t long before she was straddled across his lap, basically eating away at the lower half of his face as she eagerly fumbled with his belt buckle. That’s what turned him off about her. Too eager, too annoying. It played a part as to why he had kept his distance from her, but for that night, she was better than nothing.
As she slipped off his lap to kneel on the messy floor of his dorm, his mind drifted elsewhere. The desperate girl in front of him disappeared, then you were there, just as he left you. Staring up at him behind your obnoxious glasses, your bottom lip trembling. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Would you even know how to do this sort of thing? 
If he allowed himself, he’d guide you, gripping a part of your hair. Not tight enough to hurt you, of course, just enough to get leverage. He’d watch as your pretty lips parted to take him in, taking your sweet time. Your mouth would be soft and hot, your tongue shifting about awkwardly underneath him. He bet that you’d have it down quickly; you were good at most things, being a quick learner. Perhaps there would be a few scrapes from your canines as you bobbed up and down, if he were to be realistic. But the sting was more than alright with him.
Felix always prided in himself for his ability to give a girl a good, long time. Why else would they flock to him by the dozens? So what was so different about you that made him feel like he was already about to burst the seams?
Because it was still you, sickly sweet and serene you, lips wrapped around him and devouring him like the candy you always loved. Your eyes would water, but he’d gladly wipe away each drop that managed to escape. It left him a whiny mess. Sweat prickling at his forehead, ragged breaths heaving his shoulders up and down, white-knuckling your hair.
And when he’d come close, he’d let you know. You didn’t like being caught off-guard. Your heavy disdain for pop-quizzes or his endless pranks of sneaking up behind you made that apparent. But he prided himself in knowing these things about you, that he was able to gather it all from your little ramblings. 
You liked American reality TV. Disliked gel pens. Loved your chips overdone. A ridiculous query crossed his mind. Would you like spitting or swallowing? Or would you rather it all over you? From how your lips were glued to him, it seemed like swallowing. But that made him hesitate. You would never like such a thing. You were squeamish around anything sticky or slimy. Cough syrup, oily or tacky lotions…you hated them. As much as it dismayed him, why would this be any different?
Because it wasn’t you. And as soon as the girl he had taken back to his dorm reappeared, he knew that she could never be you. Nobody could. He was disgusted with himself for dirtying that memory of you. He had turned something so innocent into something so grossly erotic, and he knew he had crossed a line. How could he ever see you the same way again?
He was also disgusted with how Annabel seemed to not care despite his disillusion. She might have been the only girl he had seen that got off on merely sucking someone off. It was genuinely pathetic. Her head was swiftly yanked up, her lips making a “pop” sound.
“Alright, get out.” “What? But we’ve barely done anything, Fe–” “I don’t fuckin’ care. Piss the fuck off!”
Felix thought he would feel bad about kicking Annabel out, especially after she left in tears with her clothes haphazardly buttoned. But he could genuinely not have cared in the slightest; he was already preoccupied, mind filled with guilt after what he had done to you. But did he feel regret? No. That’s what ate at him the most. Someone like him shouldn’t have gone for someone like you. 
Perhaps it was better to try and forget that he kissed you. Kissing you meant opening the floodgates of his feelings, his debauchery. He had to keep that closed so that you could stay as pure as you always were. His perfect girl.
And he would do anything to keep you that way.
to be continued!
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a/n: dutifully fulfilling this request by my lovely anon. i wanted to delve more into the selfish, savior complex that he was and i DEFINITELY intend to take it deeper for the next part. again, thank you for the ask! co-written by @hellb4ts! leon, thank you for the many wonderful ideas. and you're welcome for introducing you to saltburn <3 inbox is open for any asks or reqs !
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masterlist
put yourself on my taglist here!
@vannyangelxoxo @lilyrachelcassidy
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aryana-thefairy · 1 year
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Astrology observations Part-2 🦋
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🦋Capricorn sun / Capricorn rising, Virgo sun / Virgo rising are the real fashionistas of astrology. They are classic, timeless, effortless elegance. They might like light and dark academia, of course, old money aesthetic. The earth signs always look put together.
🦋The gaze of the Scorpio moon is intense, hypnotic and haunting. My god they see through you, they are human lie detectors. Trust me, they know when you are lying, they are just playing along. They constantly test their friends to check their loyalty.
🦋The rebellious Lilith is subtle in earth and water signs and intense in fire and air signs. A Virgo Lilith in the first house may like to flaunt her sexuality but also struggles to keep her image pristine and clean in front of others.
🦋Lilith in 2H is obsessed with their money and has the finest luxurious taste. They might struggle with eating too much or too little. Self-image can be a little foggy. Lilith in 1H has a sexy body and Lilith in 2H has a sexy face.
🦋Pluto in 12H gets visions and constant deja vu. If someone with Pluto in 12h tells me that I should be careful and that she saw me in her dreams. I would listen to her.
🦋Men with Libra moon are proper gentleman. Their manners and etiquette is on point. The way they express themselves is mature and precise. They are real crowd pleaser. Very well groomed.
🦋I believe Leo moon is a great indicator of fame. Because their innate desire is admiration and recognition. I kid you not, so many celebrities who are worldwide famous have Leo Moon. They can also be great writers and poets because they have the ability to express their deepest darkest feelings and turn them into art that others love.
🦋0 degree placement in your natal chart is powerful, It means you are the master of your own destiny and you write your own story. 0 degree Jupiter means you can decide how to create your own fortune.
🦋Neptune in 11H is so adorable. People are magnetised by them. They are the type of friend who frequently disappears and reappears but are always there for you when you need them.
🦋Cancer Rising has the potential to become chef.
🦋Scorpio or Aries Mars is a great indication of raw sex appeal. I feel this is pretty self-explanatory. Scorpio mars has that magnetic mystery and Aries mars are pretty dominant and fearless.
🦋 18-degree placement in your Sun is of great controversy. The reason is that some astrologers would say this is a hard placement because this indicates hardships in early life, Karma. Others would say this indicates immense power to get what they want and strong willpower. I think both are true statements. They face hardships in the early part of their life and they truly shine in the later part of their life.
🦋Venus in 8H may attract doomed relationships. They also attract partners who cheat on them. They derive happiness from their love life. Lots of emotional turmoil. But I have also seen people with this aspect who are in a happy and healthy relationship. They had a past of shitty relationships. These natives are seductive and sensual and hardly single. Maybe being single for a while would help them to understand people. They too are interested in the occult. Highly creative.
🦋Venus square ascendant are so attractive but they don’t see themselves as attractive. It's like they are unaware of their beauty. May lack confidence but I believe confidence is something that can be built with practice. Squares aren’t all bad. It leads you to sexual appeal.
🦋Venus conjuncts both Mars and Mercury. We get it. You have it all. Beauty + Brains + Charisma. The only reason people don’t like them is because they are jealous duh. These natives are a bit cocky. After all, they are the whole package.
🦋Jupiter in 5H can find success and make a fortune as writers. Highly creative. Communication skills are amazing. Harness your talent.
Disclaimer: Take what resonates with you. Personal observations are biased.
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lumibuns-blog · 11 months
Text
Guys new ep dropped and my obsession is fueled
First "date" with Satouru Gojo
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Shoko is incredibly confused when she walks into your dorm and sees you in a cute sun dress getting your hair put up all cute on a Friday right after class.
"Yo y/n ya going somewhere?" She says lazily
"Oh yeah Gojo invited me out to get some sweets with him today" you beam
Shoko is no longer tired
"Wait wait wait you're what?!?" She stammers grabbing your shoulders
"Like I said Gojo invited me out to get some food" you repeat
"Wait so...Gojo...Gojo Satouru...invited you....on a date?!?!" She said in disbelief
"It's not a date Shoko, and why is this such a surprise" you giggle
"It's just that Gojo is so....bleh and you...you're...we'll just look at you" she says gesturing to your cute outfit and adorable smile "Oh my god I've gotta tell Utahime" she exclaimed pulling out her phone
Within minutes Utahime was informed on the situation and breaking down your door
"Y/N YOU CAN'T, NOT WITH AN IDIOT LIKE HIM" she yells
"You guys" you say blushing "thank you for worrying about me really, but there's nothing to worry about. Gojo might be a bit childish but he never makes me feel uncomfortable and he's definitely never mean, really he just makes me laugh" you say beaming just thinking about him, you have to remind yourself it's not a date.
'Wait' Utahime and Shoko think simultaneously, are you getting special treatment, why is Gojo not being an ass to you specifically??
Shoko pulls her senior down to whisper in her ear "look I know he's an idiot but you should see the way he looks at her, let's let them give it a try. I don't think it will go bad"
"Fine but if anything happens to her I'll kill him myself"
"Good luck" Shoko chuckles
The two decide to let you go on the date after all and as they watch you walk out of the Jujitsu tech campus gate they can only hope he doesn't mess everything up.
Minutes, then hours pass, as the sun dips below the clouds your friends still wait for you.
"He better not think about doing anything funny" Utahime grumbles
"Hey give him some credit" Shoko responds
Suddenly they see two shadows walking into view, one much taller than the other.
"FINALLY GOJO IF YOU EVEN-" Utahime is cut off by Shoko's hand covering her mouth
"Just look" she smiles
They can clearly see Gojo smiling from ear to ear, peering at you from over his sunglasses as he hands you another mochi from the package. You're smiling up at him, eyes closed without a care in the world as you take the mochi and have a bite before handing it back to him insisting he try. He blushes and looks away before taking the treat from you and plopping in into his mouth.
He looks at the way the setting sun illuminates your face and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ears to see more of your gorgeous face. You two look at each other like you're the only people in the world.
"Will you allow it??" Shoko questions
"Maybe"
*my inbox is open<3*
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serxinns · 21 days
Note
Hi! If you do see this I am wondering if you can do baker x Yandere mha (like Class 1A) or aged up reader (baker still) x Pro hero’s
But as in Mafia Au :3
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Ooooo mafia drama I like your style
There is a city that is labeled as the mafia's playground yes the town was pretty well known for its famous buildings and activities and spots with beautiful views but everyone is terrified of the mafia, so bad that pro-heroes are useless against them heck they're even terrified themselves of going into that town knowing they're Mafia's main targets
but that didn't scare you into moving and opening your new bakery there! Your parents ofc were worried but you reassured them that you were fine and you'd protect yourself! Plus a dangerous city won't push you away from your dream job!
A month after settling in your house and giving out sweet treats to customers you were slowly but surely getting a bit popular around the city your bakery would be always crowded during the day, especially in the afternoons but strangely at night you understand at 1st since its night and some people have curfews and work it was the behavior that most customers would look panicky desperately trying to rush you to finish their order and once you did they quickly grabbed their order and leave
One day a group of people maybe about 5-6 showed up one night all dressed like they were at some fancy bar or some party there was an angry blonde, a goofy redhead, a bubbly pink-skinned girl, a calm and beatiful purple hair girl, another blonde dude with a blacklighting strike on his head next to him was a short black haired male with a playful grin, they were all chatting and joking around with each (well mostly the blonde and the black hair) but you didn't mind it one bit not noticing what kind of people you were talking to
"Hello Welcome, what would you ladies and gentlemen like?" They all stopped and looked at you your adorable smiling face and doughy eyes with adorable soft hair and a cute little baker outfit with a Cute apron to top it all together the gang was memorized by this untill one of them cleared their throat "yea sweet thing I'll have a taiyaki with a side of your number on it~" he said with a wink you mentally rolled your eyes and wrote down the order, the other blonde pushed him out the way to tell his order "I'll have some cinnamon apple pie with extra cinnamon" "I'll have some dango please!" "Cupcakes for me please.." After the gang shouted out their order you happily went headed to the kitchen
The gang watched how you happily hummed to yourself putting all the ingredients in the bowl pouring in the pans and putting them in the oven "It might take a while if you all don't mind?" "Nope not at all!" The pink haired girl said withna bright smile matching yours it wasn't like they wanted to go they want to know more about you "so whats a little baker like you doing in this here city?" The red head said with a toothy grin "Oh I always wanted to run a bakery on my own ever since I was a child-"
The more you talked about your experiences and fun adventures of being a Baker the more obsessive and possessive they became the mafa gang just wanted to protect you and your bakery a person like you shouldn't be running a bakery alone in this dangerous city you just screamed to be protected that's when they decided they're gonna protect you and your bakery! No matter what! During the time you found out who they were the guy who was trying to flirt with you was Denki the redhead, Kirishima or Eljijou, the gruff Aah blonde was Bakugo the bubbly pink skin was Mina the black-haired man was Sero, and cool purple head was jirou
"Here's your order" you happily handed them their sweets the package design for the sweets was even more cute with bows and Sanrio characters with a cute little bow on top! "So cute.." they all thought as they grabbed their orders "Goodbye have a good night!" "Wait you're not gonna go home as well street this time is dangerous" you gasped "Oh I am your last customer!" "And your dumbass is gonna walk all alone defenseless?" Bakugo eyeing you "I'll be fine I'll fight 'em off!" You confidently said as they all waved goodbye at younas you did the same "Such nice people!" You said obliviously
"We're totally following them back home for their safety right?"
"Right" the rest of the gang said
And from this day forward your mafia friends would come over every night trying to try and meet you they rarely ever come here for the sweets but you didn't mind they were your friends it was nice to talk to people without them scaring out their minds and rushing you makes you feel like this city isn't dangerous!
Until one day another group of people went into your store and it wasn't your friends they were dressed up like your friends all tator up and well dressed but they were different people one green headed boy with freckles, a brown haired girl, a man with glasses that look very stern, a man wit no expression with red and white hair, a girl with a ponytail, and a green haired girl with her tongue sticking out, "Oh this might be their friends? Or do they alao go to the same area bakugo and his gang " You thought curiously
"Hello welcome to the cafe how can I help you!" You smiled once again everyone stopped what they were doing to look at you, you were just so precious just so cute! Why is a little darling like you working in a dangerous city like this? The brown hair spoke up excited to meet you "Hello! You must be y/n!?" The brown hair girl said as she smiled, you were a bit shocked wondering how she knew your name but shook it off as they probably heard it from somewhere else "Yes I am nice to meet you!" The girl later introduced herself as Ochako, the glasses dude Iida, the green-haired, Deku the pony girl Momo, and the green frog Tsuyu but she prefers Tsu and that's how you all became friends!
Izuku and you would ramble on and on about who your favorite heroes are,Ochako and you have a passion for baking, tsuyu talking about retirement facts, and Iida being a gentleman as he is offering to help with the dangerous stuff! momo offered to buy more supplies for you which you told her she didn't have to but she insists
After you bid goodbye to your friends you bid them goodbye and happily walk to your home!
"We're gonna follow them are we right?"
"NO CAUSE WE DECIDED THAT 1st"
Out goes the bakusquad and gang along with Takoyami and Sato who you didn't meet yet but will soon
"Kacchan! What a lovely suprise! What do you think ur doing here"
"We should be asking you the same thing Midoriya back off theyre already ours"
"Oh please like yall can take any good care of them"
"I might as well you watch that mouth four eyes our darling we saw them 1st and we get them 1st
"And what makes you think you decided that?"
The members kept bickering among each other untill Izuku calm quiet them down
"It seems like we can't decide a solution so why don't we just share them !"
The other members looked at each other and then at their group bakugo didn't want to do it at 1st but after some very hard convincing he was in (for now) and that's how it settled they all Decided they were gonna protect you
"No matter the cost~"
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whalesforhands · 10 months
Text
cats and cats (satosugu x reader)
warnings: crack(?), fluff, smoking, dedicated to that really old geto cat anon that i never replied to, i wasn’t totally sober when writing this, romance?
“…Shoko, what is that?”
“Cigarettes.” The girl pulls out a stick from the plastic packaging, twirling it in-between her lithe fingers as she patted her pockets for her lighter, her eyebrows furrowing as she struggles in her search for it.
“Ah, I’ve got you.” Your hands produce a lighter from within your blazer’s pocket, light pink with the body being decorated with a character you’ve been obsessing over lately. You flick it, a flame coming to life as you hold it to the cigarette that had now been placed between her lips, getting exceedingly close to her, proximity intimate as she entranced you with her usual lazy gaze and smirk upon her kissab-
A bump against your legs. You ignore it in favour of smiling back at the beautiful girl in front of you.
“I think you should stop smoking so muc-“
Another bump. More insistent this time. Paired with pained mewing and the sound of claws extending from a pair of paws that were desperately trying to get your attention.
You look down, looking the rather large, stark white Maine Coon purring and pawing the length of your skirt as it starts to get your attention in the eye. It’s (?) fur long and fluffy, puffing up even more as it meowed at you, huffy crystalline blue eyes looking annoyed.
Cute.
The black Turkish Angora is by its side, brown eyes shut as it continued rubbing its head against the fabric of your socks, a strand of its fur hanging over the cat’s face, reminiscent of a familiar black-haired sorcerer you knew as it purrs adorably in content.
Extremely cute.
You squat down to your knees, resting on the balls of your feet as you started to pet the two, scratching behind their ears and below their chins as they cuddled deeper into the palm of your hand, licking the skin with their sandpaper tongues and snuggling even closer to you now that they had your undivided attention.
(The white one attempted to get under your skirt. You moved away, punishing it by giving more affection to the black cat, who definitely wasn’t complaining, given the smug look on its face.)
“Shoko-“
“Wanna take care of them?”
“…yea.”
——
Sugu laid upon your lap, furry body stretched across as it lazily went to sleep on top of you, purrs sounding out from his throat as you continued to scratch his head.
Sato sat before you, using a dainty paw to rub at his eyes, squeezing them shut before abruptly opening them, before another paw was hurried pressed to his head.
“Do your eyes hurt?”
He quickly nods his head. (So smart.)
You think for a moment, looking around the room before spotting an extra pair of Satoru’s left behind sunglasses… There’s no way that could work, right?
…but they look so similar, it’s worth a shot.
——
You’re poking at the exposed belly of the white one, the cat laying on its back with his paws in the air, borrowed sunglasses over his eyes when you started prodding at its soft and plushy body.
(You honestly can’t believe the glasses worked.)
It’s purring so loudly, revelling in your touch as you scratched and rubbed at the flattening cat, so satisfied, so happy he looked as if he was starting to melt into the ground.
Such a healthy gait.
“You’re kind of fat, aren’t you, Sato?” An afterthought that had been unwittingly voiced out. “Did your previous owner feed you too much?”
His purring slows to a stop as he gradually realizes the meaning behind your words despite your comfortable pats. A yowl escaping as he jumped onto his paws, turning his long body away from you as he ensured that his fluffy tail smacked into your face, fur obscuring your vision before you hear the angry padding of his feet.
Is he… Pouting?
“Are you upset?” His tail is swishing in the air as you ask him, back still turned to your face as he refuses to meet your gaze, ears flattened against his head as he trots away with angry swishes.
(You’re absolutely losing it internally. So precious…!)
“W-wait, I’m sorry? Don’t go!” You’re holding back your laughs as you tried to coo the mass of fluff back onto the floor or into your arms, the crabby feline having decided to strut away from you, choosing to try and get a sleeping Shoko’s attention by pawing at her hair from her position atop the couch.
“Sato? Don’t bother Shoko, darling…” You try cooing again, staying still as Sugu shifts around in your lap, stretching himself out and yawning as he begins waking up.
Sato is giving you the cold shoulder still. Oh my, how petulant.
You look down at the cat still in your lap. “Looks like it’s just you and me, huh?” It meows back at you as you kiss its head, tucking that peculiar strand of his fur back, only for it to bounce back into place, incessant purring and licking at your hand as he seemed to beg for another one.
“Oh? You like that, huh?” You land another sweet kiss upon his forehead once again only for his paws to hold your lower jaw in place when you try to move away.
“Aww, you’re so cute!” You’re absolutely gushing over him, bombarding this cute little cat with kisses all over his face as he lets out mewls and meows of content within your embrace.
“I can’t believe anyone would ever believe you’d be bad luck.”
The white cat has paused its ministrations on the still asleep Shoko, who had used a lazy hand to shoo the disturbance away. He’s staring at the both of you as the frown on his face seemed to deepen.
(Is this affecting him?)
“Sugu~” You’re kissing all over his face as the black cat stood on his hind legs, toe beans digging into the meat of your thighs with front paws upon your chest as it snuggled his head into your throat, meowing delightedly as you scratched and pet him.
Sato lingered close to you, nudging closer and closer but far away enough whilst acting like snob, turning his cute pink nose up at you everytime he think your eyes are on him.
(He’s just like the actual Satoru…)
You pay him no mind, letting Sugu purr into the valley of your chest, letting him nudge and cuddle into you freely with no restrictions as you stroked his back leaving more gentle pecks on the cat’s closed eyes, plainly ignoring the stubborn Maine Coon.
(You’re not paying attention to him. You’re. Not. Paying. Attention. To. Him! Sugu wasn’t paying attention to him, how could you both not shower him in love?)
He was now brooding in the corner, an aura so gloomy and sad surrounding him as he sat on his haunches, tail drooping and ears flattened against his head at the lack of attention.
He’s absolutely deflated. (But still not giving in.)
Sugu meows up at you, a way to get your attention before he tuts his head to the side, mercy in his actions as he tries to get your attention to his sulking buddy.
You misinterpret him.
“Aww, you wanna cuddle somewhere else?” Your voice had grown so soft, so tender and gentle and lovely as you cooed at him, so distracting and so flustering that he short-circuited, nodding his fluffy head.
“Let’s go to my room, then!”
Sato never got out of his corner so quick, jumping onto his feet as he started running after the both of you, circling your feet in quick circles as he yowled and meowed, sunglasses falling off his face as he placed his front paws on your skirt, eyes begging and pleading and remorseful as you continue to coddle Sugu in your arms.
“Someone finally stopped being grumpy, huh?” You attempt to scoop the second cat up, grunting as you feel both their weights in your arms as you cradled them both like babies, both so abnormally large that their bodies were shrouding you in a mass of fur.
(You could honestly die happy here.)
masterlist KOFI pt.2
Notes:
The lighter was a gift from Shoko.
Guess who named them? You did. The boys were meant to be off on a mission together, and weren’t supposed to be back until next week.
Satoru’s cat form is not overweight. Just really fluffy.
“You’re both cats, aren’t you?” Shoko’s eyes are closed and upturned, a tight smile on her lips as she places a can of wet cat food in front of the feline duo.
“Woogle said that wet cat food was better for dealing with overweight cats.” You murmured under your breath, hand placed under your chin in thought as you watched Sato poke at the meal with a claw.
“But with how much that can was, I really hope the owner quickly finds them soon…”
“Well, boys,” Shoko begins again, her grin growing ever wider as a self-satisfied look made itself home on her face. “You heard her. Wasn’t cheap, and she went allllll the way to the local family mart to buy it for you, ya know?”
“Ah, it wasn’t actually that far-“
“Wouldn’t want to waste her hard work, do we?”
Her stare is pointed at the trembling black cat and disgusted white one, their forms unsteady as they physically gulped at the sight of the slimy can of raw tuna in front of them…
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merakiui · 1 year
Text
Mother
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yandere!kabukimono x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, pregnancy, implied codependency, brief mentions of murder/death, brief mention of childbirth note - recently i was inspired to write a kabukimono story, so i hope you can enjoy it!
i. the miracle of life.
There is a little human growing within you.
Kabukimono has never heard of such a phenomenon, but according to you it’s a normal facet of life for all creatures. He, who has only ever interacted with men, young and old, and the occasional grandmother, has never known the word pregnancy. It’s a complicated concept he struggles to parse at first—like that first sip of sake or the stickiness of a sweet. It’s something that leaves you pleasantly rounded like a ripe lavender melon, softens the skin on your bones, and allows you to grow into the kimono that was once two sizes too large. It’s something you speak of with overwhelming warmth, a fondness so enticing it’s almost tangible. It’s something the men at the furnace discuss with great pride and merriment, swapping stories of their beautiful, beloved wives and the tiny miracles that dwell within the womb, adoration painted upon weathered countenances. 
Miracles. Kabukimono has heard the word once or twice. Miracles, as he has come to learn, are wonderful things wrapped in silks. Newborns swathed in softness. Frail humans who manage to overcome illnesses that are said to snuff both body and soul with the excruciating passage of time. Sometimes a miracle is simple and not nearly as exciting as tales of heroes and villains or a mortal fight for recovery. Sometimes a miracle is waking up to begin another day. Sometimes it's torrential rain battering thirsty farmlands. Sometimes it’s a delicious meal prepared by a loving hand. 
If Kabukimono’s existence were to be defined as a miracle, it would be both a grandiose, gilded lie and bittersweet flattery all in one pretty package. Miracles are wanted, loved, and accepted. Disasters, curses, failures—however you wish to name the wandering puppet—are unwanted, despised, and abandoned. Kabukimono may not know every truth of this vast world, but this is one he’s understood from the moment he awoke in a lonesome pavilion. 
There is a little miracle growing within you. 
“Although they’re not very little now,” you remark, taking his cold, bloodless hands in your warm, blood-filled ones.
You guide them to your belly, secured snugly with a hara-obi, and he averts his gaze, if only to be respectful of the bare flesh you’ve put on display. The men at the furnace note he often stares at you; they’ve said it’s unbecoming of a young man to fix licentious eyes upon a maiden. Once, they joked of repentance for invasive gazes: A man who strays too far from his honor when a lady is involved shall gouge his eyes out and present them to her in hopes of earning forgiveness. Kabukimono, unable to comprehend the sarcasm or the laughter, procured a shard of shattered glass, raised it to his eye, and was promptly stopped by a very concerned Niwa. 
“Now listen here,” he had said, addressing the group of chuckling men, “it’s not very honorable to trick others.”
Kabukimono knows that there are two types of tricks: the painful kind and the painless kind. Betrayal falls under the painful category. Swapping his bitter tea for sake falls under the painless category (though he was not spared of the dizzying, disorienting effects or the subsequent hangover). Had he sliced his eyes from his skull, he wonders if he would have felt the sting, the agony, the fluid filling empty eye sockets—if such fluid even exists within his unique anatomy. Kabukimono is grateful for Niwa, for he often rescues him from painless tricks that may turn painful should he follow through with blind trust. 
And, had he truly lost his eyes that day, he never would have had the pleasure of looking at you like he does now. 
“Not very little…” he parrots, and he can practically feel the heartbeat from your miracle the moment his hands rest upon your belly. It shimmers in the candlelight, but that’s only because you’ve applied herbal oil meant to soothe weary muscles and prevent stretch marks. “How big will it become?”
You hum, idly trace patterns onto the tops of his hands, and say, “It’s difficult to approximate. Imagine…a very big lavender melon.”
Kabukimono can do that. He peers past you at the purple pile on the table, spoils from his last walk. He always returns with too many, but then pregnancy leaves you with a voracious appetite and sometimes you can eat more than one melon in one sitting. It’s very admirable, so he brings more each week and you never stop him. 
“That’s big,” he mumbles, awestruck, and he slides a hand across the width of your stomach. “How does it fit?”
“It’s a miracle.”
“Oh.” He leans closer, suspecting he feels movement from within, and he’s proven correct when something shifts under his palms. His eyes, blown so very, impossibly wide, flick up to yours. “It… It moved!”
“Of course,” you say, smiling, and your eyes are the prettiest gemstones in the moonlight. He could stare at them forever. “They kick and squirm often. This, too, is the sweetest miracle.”
“How so?”
“A restless baby means they are alive and well within.” You look like a statue of the gentlest goddess when you cradle your stomach. “It’s all I could ever hope for.”
Curiously, Kabukimono withdraws his hands and lifts the hem of his silks to view his own flat, porcelain stomach. He presses a palm against synthetic skin. It’s cold, but there is life crackling beneath his hand, just barely contained within the frame his mother personally sculpted. 
Mother. It’s another word he knows well, but he cannot seem to apply it to anyone other than his creator. But, as he has come to learn, a mother is meant to provide and protect. His mother is currently absent, so she cannot do those things. 
“You must have something you want.” 
Kabukimono lowers the fabric, cinches it tight, and peers at you. “Something I want?”
“Like a miracle of your own.”
“I am unable to conceive a miracle.”
You stare at him for a moment before laughing a quiet, melodious laugh. “It doesn’t have to be a child. It can be anything you want.”
His hands rise to his chest and he intends to admit his true wish—a heart and a place amongst humans—but instead he says, “I would like a mother for myself.”
“Do you not have a mother, Kabukimono?”
“I do… I did.” He shakes his head, finding that the admittance is too troublesome on his tongue. “I’m…unsure.”
You nod, your features softening with understanding. “Perhaps something else then?” Kabukimono reaches out to touch your belly, hesitates, and draws away, conflicted. You offer an encouraging smile. “You can touch. I don’t mind, and I don’t think the baby minds either.”
And so he does.
“I want to see your miracle when it’s brought into the world,” he whispers, speaking more to your baby than to you. “And I would like to know the miracle of life.”
As if in response, your little miracle kicks.
ii. the miracle of death. 
Your little miracle almost fell from the sky that envelops it.  
On the way to the furnace, a man bumped into you and you were sent stumbling on uneven ground. Kabukimono does not want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been a few steps behind—if he hadn’t rushed to your aid with a quickness rivaling lightning. He’d caught you in his arms and, noting the raw panic sullying such a friendly face, could only exhale a slow, relieved sigh. 
When you fell, you were holding your belly, shielding it as if it was worth more than your own life. When you fell, the man who had been the catalyst for this short-lived horror did not jump in to catch you. When you fell, you were a sliver away from tragedy. 
Kabukimono tastes red-hot anger in his throat, but he cannot understand where it’s coming from or why it consumes him entirely. But he must get it out of his system. It’s unpleasant and wrong and sordid. He doesn’t like it. Not at all.
And so, later that same day, he repays terror tenfold and leaves the man clinging to the strand he calls life.
“I won’t allow you to take my miracle away.” It’s spoken like a fact, shot through with syllables of deadly certainty. The sharpened tip of his blade prods at the man’s abdomen, a warning, a threat, and a promise all at once. For nearly taking a life, you shall pay for it with your own.
“Your mother?” the man had sputtered, terrified and confused, sticky with sweat and tears. 
Kabukimono does not let the man speak again, for the sword sinks into his stomach, and unease morphs into painful torment. To be certain the man won’t survive, Kabukimono twists the sword, sullies his hands in the process, and yanks it free with startling strength. Blood speckles a pristine canvas. It’s warm and wet.
He did not say mother. He did not. You’re a miracle. You are not his mother. You will be a mother to your miracle, not him because he isn’t a miracle. 
He did not say mother. 
Kabukimono finds himself sitting across from you now. There is a ghastly tear in crimson-spattered silks. You suspect the truth in the liquid staining his attire. Surely you must. But you keep your lips pursed and thread the needle through with expert fingers, humming as you work. Kabukimono sits primly, watching you with bright, indigo hues. You hum a melody he has never heard before.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m uninjured.”
“I’m glad.” You snip the excess string away and tuck the needle into your sewing kit. “It’s fixed. I’m sorry if it looks a little awkward. I’m not the best at—”
“It’s perfect,” he insists, admiring the stitching as if it’s the most valuable thing in all of Teyvat. Irreplaceable, for no one could replicate your exact pattern, and that’s what makes it so special. 
“Would you like to talk about it?”
He’s quiet for all of two minutes before the silence shatters his resolve. “Your miracle…” He frowns, suddenly ashamed. “He almost hurt your miracle…”
“But he didn’t, and I have you to thank for that.” You hold your hands out, palms up, and add, “Your hands aren’t meant to break and destroy others. You were given these precious palms to embrace others, to protect others, to respect others.” 
Slowly, he places his hands in yours. His seem to weigh heavy like a grimy sin, yet somehow all it takes is a single touch from you and all of his filth is cleansed. His fingers curl around yours, entwining like vines.
“I will embrace others. I will protect others. I will respect others.”
You squeeze his hands reassuringly. “When you’re upset, rather than acting rashly, take a step back and sit with your feelings. If the unpleasant thing persists, come to me and we can discuss. But please don’t take your frustrations out on others. You weren’t made to hurt others.”
“Then if I was not made for destruction, what else could be the purpose for my creation?”
To that, you’re unable to produce a satisfactory reply. Instead, you pull one of your hands free, lick your thumb, lean towards him, and scrub the blood from his cheeks. He blinks at you, unaccustomed to such consideration. The men at the furnace often tease him for trailing after you like a lost, little duckling, seeking your approval and affection. Tonight, since the men are nowhere in sight, he thinks he can allow himself to be greedy without any admonishments from Niwa or Katsuragi. You sure do like that (Name), huh? the latter often muses, exchanging wary, furtive glances with Niwa, as if both are preparing to weather a calamity. 
Kabukimono always speaks the truth unless he must take care to conceal it. So when he tells them, I like her more than I like the world that surrounds me, he means it. Because without you there is no world.
“Thank you, Mother,” he murmurs, as if it’s a secret, a title not meant to be uttered by him. 
Oh, he said it again. He said mother. 
iii. the miracle of motherhood.
Kabukimono kneels at your bedside like an angel of death dressed in the purity of white. He watches you throughout the hour, listening to your cries, your groans, your hisses, while a grandmother assists below, whispering soothing consolations that somehow reach Kabukimono’s ears despite the shrill noises that fill the room. Kabukimono has learned she’s a granny who delivers life, so he puts his faith in her to take good care of you and your miracle.
The process is much longer than he anticipated. Though you’re covered in sweat and tears, your chest heaving, your hand searching for him in the midst of the commotion, you are the most beautiful miracle he has ever known. He closes his hand around yours and you squeeze so hard you might just tear his wrist from the joint. But it doesn’t hurt him, and he spends the afternoon at your side, watching the toll the miracle takes on your body.
He never blinks, burning the scene into his retinas. 
Some time later, you are holding your miracle in your arms, tears tracking down your cheeks in salty streaks. Kabukimono watches mother and child with wide, adoring eyes. After all this time, your miracle is finally here! You’re holding such a fragile human and there is love trickling from your lash line. Kabukimono wants to cry with you, but the tears won’t come. 
So instead he smiles. You seize his wrist and drag him down to where you rest, and the smile widens.
“Your miracle is leaking,” he observes, and you snort in amusement.
“Crying,” you correct, bumping your forehead with his. “She’s adorable, isn’t she?”
Kabukimono is inclined to agree, but your eyes are not on him. For the first time in the many months he’s been acquainted with you, he is not all you see. Somehow that saddens him, carves a hole into him, but he can’t mourn. He shouldn’t. He’s come to learn that the miracle of childbirth is an occasion worthy of celebration. He should be happy for you—and he is—but there is a pang in his chest. Something is not fitting where it should. Something is amiss.
“I think I’ll name her…Aika.”
“Is it common to give miracles names?”
“Of course. Everyone has a name, even you. We’re all given one the moment we’re born.”
Even me… 
Aika continues to cry and you rock her to and fro in your arms, shushing her with a song. She settles within minutes, lulled to sleep, and you follow shortly after. He refuses to leave your bedside, preferring to watch over you like a dutiful guard.
Kabukimono weighs his two warring wants: a name of his own, generously given by his mother, and you. In this very moment, you are attainable. A name, however, is not. But perhaps he can survive without one if it means you’ll accompany him through nameless wandering.
He’s only ever whole when he’s with you. 
iv. the miracle of rebirth. 
The Balladeer stands at an all-too-familiar doorstep. He has since swapped his pure linens for a shroud of darkness, and he’s taken on a new alias (he refuses to call it a name, for only you can grant him one). You haven’t changed in the many years that have since followed, for you are not fully human like him. Yet you veil yourself in the wonders of humanity, always empathetic in nature, tainted with weak emotions. You will never be human, but then neither will he and there is catharsis in similarity. The both of you stand on equal ground in that regard, or so you might have thought. 
He is better because he feels nothing, or so he believes. Perhaps, in the center of the labyrinth that is his mind, he recognizes his flaws and the fact that he is worse because you can accept the many aspects of humanity. 
Shrugging these irritations away, he composes himself, squares his shoulders, and knocks thrice. He could forego etiquette altogether, kick your door down, and force himself inside for the sake of a cruel surprise, but he refrains from doing so. He suspects your newest miracle might tumble from your sky if he shocks you and then you will never know the sweet cycle of motherhood again.
You know better than to ignore Death when he comes knocking. The door opens wide; there’s no need to crack it and peek through the thin sliver when you’re already aware of the person who awaits you on the other side. 
As he has observed over the course of many months, you do have another miracle, hidden under the softness of a floral-patterned kimono. He smiles at you, sharp and wicked under a blanket of stars, and spreads his arms for a hug.
“Mother,” he says in a sarcastic singsong, knowing it unnerves you terribly when it spills like sin from his lips. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
Like an old habit, you welcome him in. Beyond your doorstep, the corpse of your most recent lover lies slumped and bloodied, decapitated and disemboweled, dragged so far there’s a vermilion trail marking the path. Sometimes you think these humans are not killed by The Balladeer but rather by the sheer ferocity of the hatred and anger he harbors. He’s always diligent with each of your lovers, swooping in the moment he catches their scents, like a predatory cat finely tuned for slaughter. 
He palms at your stomach, uncharacteristically gentle. “Aren’t you just full of miracles, Mother?”
There is a little human growing within you, and The Balladeer has made it his duty to bear witness to the birth of each one of your miracles.
939 notes · View notes
yaekiss · 10 months
Note
#Mailroom Open!- Hello, I would like to request a love letter for Alhaitham. NSFW and Yandere response please, and any pet names work but if you could use Habib that would be great 💖 (I hope I did this right)
_______________________
"To my favorite feeble scholar,
I hope this letter is finding you well! I have arrived safely in Fontaine and haven't known a moment of peace since I have arrived. The chaotic cocktail of getting settled into a new city, preparing for this research project, and missing home makes me yearn for the simpler times spent in Sumeru.
Especially my time spent with you.
Thats enough of my lamenting, how fare things with you back home? Have you finally shaken the title of acting Grand Sage yet? Is Kaveh being too much of a "menace"? (Also, please let him know his mother says hello and sends her best wishes to you both). Regardless, I hope you are taking care yourself. Archons know I can't ensure you are eating well while I'm nations away. I will just have to trust that you are treating yourself with the same kindness I would extend to you.
On the topic of kindness, I have a gift for you attached to this letter. I know while I am here doing my research for the next six months we won't be able to have our usual meetings at Lambad's to discuss books over good food, but I hope these books will entertain you well during my absence.
I'm eagerly counting down the days until I can see you again. I find myself thinking of you often and it is a truly vexing experience to see you on whim like I would do so before. It makes the days seem to drag on even longer, but I pray time will fly by regardless of this.
-Sincerely, your wayward scholar
[In a simply decorated box, there are three books: one is on the topic on Fontaine's hydro transportation system and infrastructure, the second is about the complexities surrounding Fontaine's judicial system, and lastly is an infamous and popular erotica anthology from Fontaine (think the Karma sutra but French)]
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꩜ Letter Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Alhaitham, Alhaitham calls you "habib", lightly implied abuse of power, unhealthy possessive and obsessive relationship from Alhaitham, mentions of sex toys, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: He tipped me extra and requested me to be extra careful with the delivery so I'll hand it over to you directly instead of leaving it at your door as per usual procedure! ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!
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There’s a knock at your door when you’re relaxing in your room, opening it shows a hotel staff member who passes you a delivery. And it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s from your beloved feeble scholar.
Alhaitham sends you a simple package, nothing too gaudy or showy, just a few accents of turquoise to denote who the sender is. It’s secure and durable, perfect for weathering long and bumpy trips. 
When you open up the package, you find a few gifts he carefully arranged so that nothing would be broken if the contents were jostled around a little too hard. Gingerly, you lift out a lacquered box which reveals a set of headphones and a music player that’s almost identical to the one he owns. It rests in its cushioned groove in the box with the colours of the device matching your favourites instead of the shades of green on his set.
There’s a small note attached to the music player, “In case you ever miss me too much, you’ll have my voice as background noise for your moping, habib.” On the back of it, he’s written something akin to a track list. Flicking through the different audio files for a quick sample, you realise there’s one for every mood. Tracks with words of encouragement (...or as encouraging as someone like Alhaitham can get), ones scolding you for overworking. There’s even a really cute one where he softly hums a love song that both of you adore, his voice low and soothing. However, the best track of all might be the one where you get to hear his grunts and moans, as if he were right next to your ear in person. The sounds are so sinful and wet, you could just picture him grinding on his dildo, trying to reach his peak. And the way he pitifully breaths out a “I c-can’t cum witho- AH! -without you!” has you yearning for him yet again.
Taking the headphones off before you get too carried away, you retrieve his letter in the package. The envelope is the one from his Grand Sage office, not that he ever really uses them for work purposes. Inside it, his reply is written on parchment, the kind that’s provided for him due to his high position once again. His handwriting is as tidy as ever, the font and formatting standardised throughout the letter. His reply reads:
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“Reply for: My springtime sublimity,
I was wondering when you were going to write back to me. After all, there’s no way you would’ve forgotten me in the midst of your research or from meeting someone new, right? Regardless, you have not left my mind since your departure and I’m sure it’s the same for you too habib. 
Do let me know if the gifts are to your liking. I’ve managed to recreate my headphones and they will definitely be useful in blocking out anyone else who might be getting on your nerves or when you’re trying to focus on your research. I included my latest read in the package as well. I'd like for us to discuss our thoughts on the book, even if it’ll have to be done over pen and paper. I’m eager to hear your thoughts on it.
There’s also no reason for me to answer whether I’ve managed to resign from my title as Grand Sage, as evident from the envelope and parchment used. I simply have an unfortunate one last thing to wrap up before I can do so.
Moving on, habib, you know Kaveh is always a menace. I relayed his mother’s well wishes to him earlier and he just smiled. Now he’s locked himself in his room. I never have any idea what’s in that mind of his. It’ll be a miracle if I don’t have to drag him out before he starves. Although I must ask, since when were you privy to Kaveh’s background? I don’t recall him bringing it up around us. Habib, just how close are you to him? How close has he gotten to you? Do write back to me and explain.
Now, this is where I must thank you for your gifts. They all have proven to be succinct and informative. However, I must comment on the choice of one of the books. My, I knew you were lewd before, but to send me an erotica anthology habib? Though, I never said I minded it. I am simply inspired, that's all. Perhaps, you should come back sooner and we can try some of the positions referenced in it. In the meantime, habib, I can only pleasure myself with toys, although, they’re nothing in comparison to you. I’m addicted to you, the caress of your hands on my skin, how only you can make me shudder and cry out your name. You have me wrapped around your finger.
I crave you desperately, habib. There are so many words I could use to describe you with my extensive vocabulary, but the most fitting one would be blossoming. You’ve managed to sow all these emotions in me and now that they’re blooming, you’ll take responsibility right? I’ve always been logical but the degree of affection I feel for you is irregular, all-encompassing and ever-growing. Almost as if you’re twisting the very essence of my mind, rotting and changing me from the inside out. It matches in a way, spring being the season of rebirth.
This letter has gotten too long, I will end it off here habib. I trust you will stay safe and return in one piece unharmed. I await your reply.
May your days be peaceful,
- Alhaitham -”
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Setting his letter back in the package, you pick up the book he entrusted to you. Flipping through the pages, it’s littered with markings and annotations from the scribe, he even wrote some questions for you to ponder over. “What do you think about this point?” “Why would the author write this in?” But there are a few unrelated… unsettling annotations that you probably shouldn’t dwell on for too long such as, “Do you know just how much I miss you?” or “How were you able to corrupt my reason and rationality to this extent?” These annotations were left in here for a reason, Alhaitham is a smart man, a renowned member of the Haravatat. There’s a message behind his carefully selected words, waiting for you to unearth it before it festers and decays into something even worse.
Lastly, written neatly on the inside of the back cover, is a puzzling riddle, each word written in a different ancient script. After deciphering the question, an unpleasant awareness worms its way into your mind.
It reads, “Would you still extend your same kindness to me after realising what I would do for you?”
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Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡
468 notes · View notes
newtkive · 5 months
Text
pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]
ch. 1 - the gc birth
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in which two online friends navigate a romance through a minecraft groupchat with their stupid friends
or, newt, the quiet, stoic boy, and y/n, the bubbly girl both curse the world for keeping them apart, but at least they can send each other cute emojis and hope the other doesn't notice their blossoming feelings.
warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.
➥ m.list
__
notes: hi :p im very new to writing on tumblr (but ive always been a reader) so pls bare w me! and im trying to revert back to being 14 (im 23 lols..) so im revisiting my old favs including the maze runner/thomas (bc i binged the artful dodger and now im obsessed again). there will be non-text chapters in the future as well, when everyone eventually meets. this will be newt focused so enjoy !! also everyone is like a realistic age from 23 to 28
__
THE GLADE
[ 7:45 PM ]
alby added minho, y/n, newt, tommy, and gally
alby: Hello, guys.
minho: wtf is this
newt: uhhhh
tommy: hi :3
y/n: so this is why you asked me for my # in private
gally: i didn’t consent to this when i gave you my number
newt: don’t give strange men your number y/n
tommy: oh that’s y/n?
alby: Wait, Newt you had Y/N’s number already??
newt: yea
tommy: o.O
y/n: i gave it to him like two weeks after we met lmao
tommy: SO HE HAD YOUR NUMBER FOR A YEAR AND I DIDNT????
y/n: well he asked and you guys didn’t :p
newt: lmao
minho: ik he smug as fuck rn
not u asking for a girls number lmao simp
newt: stop
y/n: we all talk in discord anyways so i didn’t really think about it
plus you guys are friends irl so idk
it felt kinda weird to insert myself heh
minho: we’ve known you for a year and a half y/n
we play games all the time
call all the time
we even send packages and shit
you’re very much considered our irl friend
y/n: REALLY?? 🥺🥺
tommy: internet friends are real friends 😍❤️
minho: the heart eyes are crazy
but yes dude
newt: of course you’re our close friend. just cuz we live near each other and you’re a bit far away doesn’t mean we don’t adore you
minho: ADORE IS CRAZY LMFAO
but real ig
y/n: AWWWWW YOU GUYS LOVEEE MEEEEEE
hahahahha
HAHAHHAHJFIEKMGOR
I LVOE YOU GIYYYYSSSS IM PUTTING ALL OUR MINECRAFT BEDS TOGETHER LATER
gally: i do not want my bed to be infested by you guys
minho: gally sleeps in the corner
gally: no i dont i sleep in my mansion
y/n: cherry blossom mansion*
gally: and you sleep in a shed
y/n: cherry blossom shed* its pink and that matters.
tommy: love you y/n 😊🥰
y/n: love you tommy <3333
minho: that’s actually nasty stop now
y/n: u mad ur unloved
i love how the gc name is our minecraft town name :((
newt: aw it is
minho: can we talk about why tf this was made when we have a perfectly good discord
alby: I’m done with Discord.
newt: you got your shit hacked didn’t you mate
minho: mate 💀💀
british people so crazy
alby: Yes maybe..
I don’t want to make another.
y/n: or your old ass doesn’t know how to
minho: LMAO REAL
alby: Gonna ignore that. But I am getting too old for it. I have a new promotion at work so that means I won’t have time to play with you guys as much anymore. So I decided to make this groupchat in hopes to talk to you guys more to make up for it :)
minho: every group always has the old head with the job 💀💀
newt: minho admitting he’s jobless
minho: you work at a library be so fr rn
newt: i have an income. you have a room in your grandmas basement. we are not the same.
gally: LMFAOOOOOOO
minho: stfu :////
y/n: AWWWWWWW ALBYYYYYYY
tommy: YAAAY!!!!
im going to text you guys all day
tell you every meal
every thought
every interaction will be meaningful and glorious
newt: you are 24 years old you don’t have to do all that
minho: no fr im turning off my phone if he starts this shit
why not just do it before in the discord ??
tommy: easy access now and i tried before but stopped since no one really replied..
y/n: i say we all do it :D i will too tommy
newt: ok second thought that’s fine
minho: .
gally: that’s wild.
y/n: YAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!! NEWT YOU GO FIRST
newt: first with what
y/n: say what u ate today
newt: didn’t say i’d do it.
tommy: i ate muffin, monster energy drink, and hamburger :3333
you guys next
minho: that’s all you had bro..
y/n: hot cheetos and french fries and coffee :D
minho: ??????? BRO
how are you guys alive
y/n: it's my day off and no class so i just wanna rot in bed and that means no cooking
newt: please eat and drink water.
like for real and document it
y/n: ok wait
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there
tommy: yum!
minho: y/n..
newt: cereal does not count
y/n: I DONT HAVE ENERGY TO MAKE ANYTHING OKAY
im a 23 year old broke college student my fridge is bare
newt: alright what do you want?
y/n: wym?
newt: like if you could pick.
minho: that’s so cruel 😭😭 just making her imagine it
i like it go on.
tommy: i want chick fil a
minho: i knew you hate the gays
tommy: I AM THE GAYS?????
y/n: ugh that does sound good
mmmm chickem sandiwh waffle fry I Want that Os mYch
newt: that’s what you would order?
y/n: mmmcm yeahshhhhh
newt: ok
minho: that’s it?
i thought soemthing would happen
tommy: me too
like a spell! magic 🪄
y/n: sigh
my cereal tastes bad now
newt: well it is cocoa puffs.
minho: L cereal
y/n: DTOP SAYING L ITS SO ANNOYITIGJNGGGGG
minho: she so madddd 😂😂 L
newt: you're annoying minho
minho: youre just saying that bc shes saying that
newt: no ive always said it. and i will continue to. youre fucking annoying
minho: who bought you your coffee yesterday
newt: ???
myself
and i paid for yours too
im the one with an income
minho: .
well i didnt think youd remember that well.
newt: it was literally yesterday.
minho: yeah but ur old
newt: IM THE SAME AGE AS YOU
minho: yeah but im 🤗✨ 26 ✨🤗and youre... 26😬😔
tommy: guys stop fighting
newt: we aren't fighting
maybe this gc was a bad idea
tommy: NO!!!!!!!!!
y/n: NOOOO!
tommy: this is like y/n is here w us irl
y/n: awwwwwwwwwwwwwww
minho: no it's not. we would smell a foul stench if she was
y/n: i ahte you sooo bad.
wait there is a knock at my door im scared
newt: answer it
minho: aren't you supposed to say don't open the door for strangers ????
newt: well usually yes
y/n: no im not expecting company
newt: just do it pls
y/n: ok :D
minho: bruh..
i hope she gets robbed and u feel bad forever newt
newt: why would you want that
minho: bc she owes me money
newt: YOU owe ME money
minho: yes but i have a good reason she just wanted robux
tommy: Y/N DONT DO IT!!! I HAVE SEEN DATELINE
y/n: :o....
tommy: Y/N?????????
OH GOD THEY GOT HER
minho: why would she text a silly face if she got got
tommy: clearly its a surprised face
maybe its not her
its like those cut out magazine letters murderers use
y/n: who got me chick fil a!!!!!!!!!!
minho: me
newt: you literally did not
minho: shut up
y/n: newt it was u i see ur name on the receipt
newt: well
y/n: :(
newt: what why are you sad?
minho: im hungry too
y/n: u spent ur money :(
newt: you're hungry are you not?
minho: she's not but i am
y/n: yeah but..
i feel bad you shouldn't have
newt: just eat it or i'll be mad
minho: i think i want red lobster
newt: it's really no big deal y/n
y/n: thank you newt :(((((
newt: you're welcome
go eat and watch ur show or smth
minho: i owuld love to eat and watch a show rn <33 ohhhh im starving
newt: can you shut up
gally: im muting this gc if this means i have to deal with your guys' shit more than usual now.
minho: thank god
newt: good
tommy: good
y/n: good
the food is good too <3
newt: good.
_
lmk if you want to be tagged!
204 notes · View notes
m1d-45 · 1 year
Note
i’ve reread duality of man so many times, it’s completely captured my brain and i’m literally obsessed with it….. i’m going insane (/pos) imagining how it would feel for childe to learn that he was wrong, he was wrong and if it weren’t for foul legacy, his god would be dead at his hands!! how horrible it would be to learn that the creator trusts foul legacy over him because of his own actions!! FUCK!!!
inversion of fate
a/n: you are so right. target audience. anon is referencing this post.
word count: 1.8k
-> warnings: childe, major spoilers for his lore, imposter au things, it/its pronouns for foul legacy because it’s childe’s perspective
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily
< masterlist >
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childe doesn’t really see foul legacy as much more than an extension of himself, an extra tool he utilizes in the heat of battle, so to be shown that this ‘tool’ was correct? that his bloodlust had blinded him to the one thing that matters??? OUGH
foul legacy’s emotions sort of bleed into his due to the nature of their bond, so he can feel the genuine love that legacy feels for you and it drives him mad. he can tell it’s being genuine, that the claws swiping a strand of hair from your face are only moved by care, and it’s so irritating to him. he has to just sit there and simmer in the adoration from legacy, and he can’t do anything while you’re being so lovingly cared for by a creature of the abyss, only sit in a body he no longer has control over.
when foul legacy finally urges you to stand, he thinks it’s over. he tracks your direction and hears through abyssal ears, following your movement. he’s ready to go the moment that legacy gives up control.
maybe that’s why the moment never comes.
foul legacy closes its eye, spinning quickly to a seemingly random direction. it navigates solely by its own invisible senses, one’s childe’s brain isn’t wired to receive and decode, and he’s stunned into silence.
why is it going through so much trouble to protect you? surely it knows that even if childe isn’t the one, you’ll be caught eventually, right? it has to know that it can’t control his body forever (can it?) and that eventually he’ll get his revenge. it has to.
childe tries to keep himself oriented as best he can, if only to point others in the right direction, but legacy kept stopping to spin and confuse him. it only opened its eye once the sounds of the harbor reached its ears, and even then, childe found himself near the southern end of the harbor, near where the path split to lead up to the golden house.
he’d found you somewhere near luhua pool. he couldn’t tell whether to be impressed or annoyed that legacy managed to get him here so quickly.
standing on shaking legs, childe stumbled into the harbor. maybe it would be wise to get an agent to walk with him: he was always exhausted after a transformation, and this one was more mentally taxing than most.
in the back of his mind, he swears he can hear a satisfied rumble from the devouring deep.
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it was rare that childe received a letter.
folders were common, crossing his desk to report on missions he didn’t order and announce things he didn’t ask about. orders themselves were common enough, ‘letters’ of notice in neat packages, a small box with a map and a card denoting what was to be done. he was familiar with both, as all harbingers were, but an actual letter?
childe spotted the bright blue paper from the moment he stepped into his office, slowly closing the door behind him. as he rounded his desk, he saw the bright gold wax seal shimmered under the light, taunting him from the center of his desk. the room was eerily quiet, the creak from his chair bouncing off the walls and back at him. as he picked up the envelope, the textured paper sparking a memory, the seal suddenly felt a lot more daunting.
the seal of the fatui was also a familiar thing. it was stamped on papers and issued on uniforms, badges and reports embossed with the dark four-pointed star. he had a stamp of it himself, in one of his drawers, though he’d admittedly swapped the usual black ink for a blood red. all the harbingers tended to put their own spin onto their paperwork, usually for ease of filing or to show off. signora had the corners of the seal spiked into flames, licking across orange ink. dottore had his in a variety of shades of blue, wire forming the outer ring.
pantalone had the circles in the star changed to mora.
he flipped it over just to be sure, reading the shining golden scrawl, but the writing in the corner confirmed it was from pantalone, the characteristic cursive ‘regrator’ justifying the weight of the paper. he doubted there was much more than a single page inside; pantalone was always rather concise, even if a touch flowery in the way he did it.
with a sigh, childe turned the envelope back over and fit a nail under the wax, neatly separating it from the textured paper. he pulled the letter out and turned it to the side: only one page, though it felt like three.
a laugh slipped from him. it felt forced. in the back of his mind, foul legacy chittered.
‘shut up,’ he muttered, tossing the empty envelope on his desk.
‘you will not wish for my silence much longer.’
childe paused, a finger under the flap of the folded paper. ‘what does that mean?’
‘what do you think it does?’
he shook off the cryptic response—though it’s been months since he ran into you, it’s been in a mood ever since—and unfolded the letter, beginning to read.
he almost wished he didn’t.
there’s only two paragraphs on the page—succinct as always, he thought numbly—but the paper weighed as much as a mountain in his hands.
it was a letter updating him on the hunt for the imposter. a common source of news for him, who couldn’t personally take part in it due to his foul legacy, but this…
no matter how many times he rereads the cursive scrawl, it refuses to register. the expensive paper wrinkles around where his thumb is pressing into it, his grip tightening with every passing moment in an attempt to combat the shake beginning to set in. the same words glare at him, unchanging, shimmering off the page like an oasis of poison.
he feels legacy crawl out of the cave in his head that it has sealed itself in, finally coming forward into the light of reality that childe is washed in. the abyss stares, inspecting the harsh gleam of truth, the shine that pierces into childe’s eyes and makes them water, the one that doesn’t go away even if he closes them. legacy chitters, almost like a laugh, and the paper finally falls from childe’s hands.
‘we were wrong,’ the paper says.
you were wrong, his mind repeats.
legacy reads the paper, cooing sadly at the news that you’ve been missing ever since zhongli cornered you. you’d slipped away in his shock, and he could feel the way it wanted to chase after you. the barrier between their minds was always rather thin, and he can feel it press against it, the sadness and concern bleeding into him.
legacy pawed at his mind, urging him to let it take over and find you, and childe couldn’t even find humor in the fact that a creature of the abyss was whining at him.
it was his fault. his fault, his, if he had just listened to legacy and to the call in his own heart, if he had stopped and thought like he was told, if he had recognized the fact that legacy would never turn down a fight-
something like pride washed into his mind from legacy but it didn’t register, the overwhelming realization that he’d tried to kill his god driving all thoughts from his mind.
and he would have succeeded were if not for the abyss.
the abyss itself, the liquid poison that clung to his skin and made him dream of stars fallen from the sky, the small part of it that he had to permanently take on to survive, that had been more right than his own mind. the very place known for being bloodthirsty and ruthless, that never turned down a fight and was the first to draw blood, had been kind to you. he should have noticed.
he was wrong. how could he be?
his foul legacy chittered, an equal mix of taunting him and asking to find you.
‘give up,’ it cooed, a bitter edge of false affection around its words. ‘you’ve already done enough.’
he hated that it was right.
he hated that were it not for legacy he would have hurt you further. he hated that he had the gall to try and taunt you, you, the one he’d sworn to devote his life to after he escaped the abyss. you who gave him a form strong enough to handle the devouring deep, you who gave him the strength to stand up and keep on, and he repaid you by hunting you down, claws bared.
and he hated that he would never be able to find you on his own.
‘let me find my god.’
‘my god,’ he weakly replied, but bile quickly rose in his throat. were you? did he even have the privilege of calling himself your follower if the only words he spoke to you were threats? could he call himself faithful when he pressed on after the abyss itself cried for mercy?
‘are you the one they held close?’
childe was going to be sick.
he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he was so awful that you had to turn to the abyss for comfort, his hands were so stained that even the highest of the high recoiled, weapon drawn. you, his light, the one thing that he could always rely on, the sole constant in his life, and he turned his back on you when you needed it most. he had willingly thrown it all away, blindly following a fake that took advantage of his faith. even when all the signs asked him to stop—to think—he had pressed onward, so blinded that a creature of sea and stars could see what he could not.
‘let me find them.’
he stared at his desk, at the work he still had to do, at the letter proclaiming his failure, at the wide window to his left that spanned nearly the entire wall, more than large enough for even his foul legacy, and made a decision.
ajax gave up his body, bitter in the knowledge that the only time he could only see you would be through another’s eyes, and sick in the understanding that it was all his fault.
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j-niret · 11 months
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✩‧₊˚ pairing — bf!lee minho x hyperfem!f!reader warnings — fluff, light smut (didn’t go too much in depth), minho is a soft dom, a lowkey salty minho (you’ll see why hehe), breeding kink, taking pics during ya know what (w/ consent ofc), mentions of aftercare
✩‧₊˚ requested? no!
title means “photograph” in japanese. can you tell i was listening to drive while writing this? 🤭
you think you might actually have an online shopping addiction… yet another package arrived waiting for you at the doorstep. you excitedly skip to the door and pick up the box sitting on the porch, wasting no time to run upstairs and pry it open. “oh god.. not another one,” minho face palms at your buying compulsion, “no wonder the mail lady knows you on a personal level, she’s practically here more than me!” you roll your eyes, paying zero attention to him as you greedily pull out all the new adorable plushies you purchased. you now finally have the korilakkuma plush with a pink fluffy bunny hat in your possession and you couldn’t be happier. “hush, needed this for my collection and the bun was too cute to pass up!” your voice slightly squeaks towards the end as you held the 13” plush close to your heart.
he sighs, there’s absolutely no hope in getting you to stop it’s just something he’s going to have to deal with. he always teases you for buying the most random items, anything remotely interesting or another cute ad from tiktok you’d buy it blindly only to have most of it collect dust on your shelves or closet. minho was starkly different than you, he was much more conscious of the things he bought — unless it came to accessories for his cats or expensive ingredients he tries in advancing his cooking skills. he was a humble minimalist while you needed to have everything under the sun. he secretly adored the way your face would light up at the ring of the doorbell every time to alert you had a new package; he knew you loved him before anything but your obsession with online shopping was running a very close second.
“what do you do with all these plushies anyways? they can’t talk, can’t make you food, send daily cat pics, or even make you feel as good as i do. i don’t get the hype!” minho sounded so bitter, it was probably because you were giving the plushies more attention than him. “awwh, is my wittle baby getting jealous of some stuffies?” you tease, giggling at him feeling fake betrayed. “why would i be jealous of inanimate objects? don’t use that baby tone on me, only i can do that to you!” he hissed, giving you piercing glare. “shh, don’t say that, they’re listening!” you gasp while covering the plushie’s ears at his insult, you really treated all of them like your babies. “it’s nice you care more about them than your breathing and alive boyfriend right in front of you but i guess that’s okay.” he mutters sarcastically. was he actually mad at you? you really couldn’t tell at this point.
minho had a peculiar sense of humor in which sometimes you couldn’t detect if he was actually joking or not, he’d say things with the straightest face and you’d sit there pondering his intention. he still held a calm demeanor but his words seemed to affect you more than usual. why were you getting so worked up right now? “a-are you mad? did i do something wrong..?” you whine, lowering your head trying not to look at him. “what? no. just messing around petal, you know i like to play.” he chuckles, resting his hand under your chin to perch your head up, “look at me when i talk to you.” he orders sternly, forcing to make eye contact with him as you press your thighs together underneath the pleated tennis skirt you wore. you had no words left to say but before you could utter anything his lips shape into a mischievous smirk, “how ‘bout i pump a few kids in you while you hold onto the precious bun for dear life? sound good?”
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
he was right when he said you’d need to hold on for dear life, you suffocated the poor plushy as you whimpered and cry out to him. “m-minho— can’t- can’t take more, please- t-too much!” you struggle to conjure up words but his pace still won’t let up. eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he sends more deep thrusts your way, holding your leg up high in the air. what a stunning sight under him, your gorgeous body splayed under the bed in this lewd position all for him; keeping only the tennis skirt and ruffle trim socks you wore upon his request. “what’s that petal? said you want more?” he coos, producing harsher strokes, feeling the heat inside rush to your core, squeezing the plush bun while your face contorts. his veiny hand cascades your whole body, ending up on your tummy to lock you steady in place. you really are the prettiest thing to him.
the acceleration of his hips driving into you almost brought tears to your eyes but you put your big girl pants on and suck it up, you wanted to prove to minho that you were his good girl. “mmm.. so perfect for me petal, such a good girl for taking all of me so beautifully.” he husks, sending comforting praises “you’ll be rewarded well for this kitten.” his expression goes from focused to being engrossed by something else. his cell phone??? you watch in bemusement as he picks it up to unlock it with face ID, still never slowing down his speed. minho proceeds to open the camera application, pointing the phone towards you, you attempt to shy away but he gets upset by this. “no don’t move, you look too cute right now, i need to capture this forever. can i?” you nod, it was kind of him to ask but you’d do anything he says anyway. he snaps a couple quick shots of you before tossing his phone to the side, those pics will definitely come in handy on the days he can’t have you.
minho never left you with empty promises, he kept his word and milked every last drop he had, painting his own pretty picture in you. his body collapsed on top of yours, catching a moment to breathe while caressing the apex of your stained inner thighs. trailing lazy kisses down your neck as he praises how good you were for him. his sweet voice is like a melody to your ears, a total sucker for the way he treats you after being in dom mode. “let me go run you a bath, i’ll get you all nice and cleaned up petal.” he pats your thigh before getting up. a warm bubble bath was much deserved, you were in desperate need to soak your aching body. you didn’t even notice that you still had the plushy in your hands, surprised you committed to it for so long. you were excited to take your bath but knowing minho’s stamina… this may just be another excuse for a round 2.
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jymwahuwu · 11 months
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Jing Yuan is the kind who likes to customize you and him in the game world, and arranges you to marry him… 🫣💕
CW: yandere, non-con (in game), harassment, customizing your avatar without your consent and doing lewd things, forced marriage
Every era has some retro trends. The so-called trend is the waves on the beach, changing but repeating.
General Jing Yuan needs to pay attention to the business trends in Xianzhou, and found that many adults in Xianzhou have bought a game console. It was an electronic pet game console that was popular in various galaxies hundreds of years ago, and it has been packaged by capital and sold in a new form now. The game company uses new technology and beautiful pixel art compared to previous consoles, and targets adults. Virtual pets are fully customizable, and players can feed, care for, and even talk to them (of course, no voice, just text and options, but pets respond based on player-customizable personalities and stats). The selling point of this console is porn, with the ability to choose the level of sexual encounters and orgasms of pets in the simulated universe (lots of free and randomized sex events).
Jing Yuan immediately ordered his assistant to buy one. It was an exquisite game console with the cartoon designs of fluffy kittens and birds that the general wanted. He couldn't wait to customize… you, using technology to customize a virtual pet in the game that is exactly like you in reality. You stand on the grass in pixel art style, looking at him with a pout. He customizes your character and stats, and starts the game. He's obsessed with your little pixel figure sleeping and being fed by him in the game world. You are really adorable when you sleep in the clouds. Your little pixel avatar eating your favorite food at the restaurant. It's just that he can't accept you being groped by tentacles and other mysterious alien species in the virtual universe.
So, he customized a small avatar of Jing Yuan and lived in your home. The General watches with satisfaction as your virtual pixel avatar gets fucked by tiny Jing Yuan, rocking your waist back and forth and sobbing, with white seeds all over your face and private parts. You look exhausted and have a lot of orgasms… <3 Begging little Jing Yuan to stop doing this. In the restaurant, your avatar also can't enjoy the food because his avatar keeps groping you under the table. You even had a little wedding in the game! Your avatar keeps pleading with text messages not to get married, but gets rejected. How can you be so cute… <3
One night, you received a mysterious game video from a general who harassed you. You click and watch in bewilderment to see a tiny avatar very similar to you being fingered and nipple stimulated, and the one doing it is an avatar similar to Jing Yuan!! They are doing lewd things with the cutest art. You are flustered and crying, how can that person do such a thing in the game world without your consent. Jing Yuan even sent this for you to watch…?
"hey baby, they work so hard. let's get married as early as possible just like them<3"
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