#the tragedy the beauty the intimacy

[wolfywolfy]

Genuinely I love Julian's route in The Arcana so much. The potential of it, this inherent pull towards someone and you don't understand why -- he's admitted guilt to murder yet you can't help but feel this strange insistence that he's innocent. You don't know how, but your body, mind, & soul are screaming at you that this man that you have never met before is good, he's not what others say he is, he's not what he himself says he is; and then you learn that he doesn't even remember what happened, he just assumes he's the guilty party because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was. Why else would he forget unless it was an unbearable guilt he couldn't bear the weight of?

And, on top of it all, he has this same strange familiarity with you. How does he feel when he sees you in the shop and his heart stutters? When suddenly his aimless searching for something feels resolved, when he looks at you and everything feels right? He doesn't know you and yet his body remembers.

The mutual amnesia of people who used to be extremely close. He sees you for what he thinks is the first time ever, but his body is telling him no, we know them, we miss their touch. And you, the apprentice, slowly realizing you're feeling the same things? You immediately trust him because, before you forgot, he was your partner. Your mentor. Somebody you were so incredibly, incredibly close to, but you died and he blamed himself and everything crumpled and he made himself forget so it could never happen again and then --

There you are. And neither of you remember, but at the same time, some part of you does. The muscle memory never left. He touches you so casually, pats your arms and grabs your hand and leads you around the alleys as if it's second nature because it is. He dreams of your face and his torment and of losing you, and doesn't realize that it was real, and that his body itches to hold you because that part of him can't bear to lose you again.

I am obsessed with it. How many little tells are there, really, that the two of you share and hint at it being an old habit from times forgotten? How many little touches used to be daily routines? How many flutters of visions aren't just passing thoughts and wishes, but memories?

You think of how hard it would be to kiss Julian with a plague mask on, and his response is "Imagine trying with two of them," because he wanted to kiss you when you were his apprentice, when you were both desperate and tired and aching and tortured by the plague with only each other's company as a comfort. Maybe that's why you had the thought of kissing him in the first place, too -- but neither of you know why the subject was brought up, neither remember, yet some parts of you do.

Ugh. I love it. And when Julian finally does regain his memories? And he realizes you're real and you're here and you've been here, and he has been able to touch you and hold you this whole time, but now he can truly appreciate it, but he's also horrified with the weight of losing you all over again. Oh my God. It's so good. The potential underlying thoughts and emotions are so good.

#im rambling #im just obsessed with past lovers who have mutual amnesia #but they both feel this weird sense of /rightness/ when they find each other again #and everything starts moving so quickly and its too quick to be comfortable yet it is more than comfortable #its natural its instinctual because you both fit #youve always fit you just dont remember #the tragedy the beauty the intimacy #the love shared inherently between people who cant remember why #but their bodies know they miss each other #and touching one another comes as easy as breathing even when everything around them is telling them no this is dangerous this is not sane #he is a murderer he is a terrible person he will hurt you #but your body says /no/ #because its whispering /i know him/ #grabs my heart and sobs into the pavement #im so sorry im rambling so much i just. its so good. i wish we had more books like this #not the one sided amnesia trope but the TWO sided amnesia #you dont remember what happened you dont remember who you used to be but your body is screaming /its them its them its them/ #sigh #julian #julian devorak #the arcana #the apprentice #arcana #arcana apprentice #spoilers #julian spoilers #Julian route spoilers #ilya #ilya devorak #Wolfy speaks

[endearingsalt]

Sometimes I quite literally sit awake at 2am and thank God that that bastard abuser from undergrad was out of my life before he could get his hands on Hoax by Taylor Swift. He woulda made that whole thing so toxic you don’t even know.

#marie talks #this is the same bitch who used bad literary analysis to claim moana was actually a tragedy #he absolutely woulda tried to make hoax into an actually beautiful and totally healthy song about real intimacy #we were spared

[femmebambi]

Such a tragedy that there isn't a pretty girl here to fuck me..I want to be sloppily making out in my underwear with her, our hips grinding together. She'd push me down onto the bed and climb on top of me. "My pretty girl" she says as she guides my panties down my legs..making me more needy for her by the second..In a moment of pure intimacy she touches her forehead to mine before she trails down my body leaving gentle kisses all down my neck.She takes her hand and roll my sensitive ripples and I can't help but let out a little whine and murmur "I need you". She looks up at me and responds, "I know baby,I know." as she snakes her hand down my stomach and works her fingers through my wet folds. Moving my hips in a futile attempt to get more, she grabs me firmly and stops me. "Ah ah,baby.no moving." I whine in response, just needing to feel all of her right that second. She rubs little circles on my clit as she traps me in yet another intoxicating kiss. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?" "I'll be so nice tonight angel. I promise you'll feel so good. " I nod in response. "I'll always be a good girl for you.". I feel her circle my entrance as I let out more little moans and whines, trying to do as I was told and not move my hips. Slowly, she dips one finger into me as she sucks some beautiful marks into my neck. All my problems disappear as she adds another finger and slams them into me. I let out a high-pitched moan as I wasn't expecting it. "Feels so good,right, my love?" she says as I vigorously nod in response, not able to form a verbal response. I was right, I just needed her.

☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

#sapphic #wlw #wlw post #wlw nsft #wlw concepts #sapphic nsft #sapphic yearning #wlw ns/fw #wlw yearning #sapphic concepts #sapphic smut #wlw smut #i was gonna finish this but it would be a whole ass novel

[muzansfangs]

Can you please do possessive/ jealous souske hc with female humans reader please?

Possessive and jealous Aizen with a female human reader.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader;

Format: head canons;

Warnings: jealousy and slight yandere behavior, possessiveness, marking the partner, mention to sexual intercourse but nothing descriptive, mention to murder, kind of toxic relationship, slight choking.

Plot: how would a possesive and jealous Aizen act with his female human girlfriend?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• The moment his eyes landed on you, he knew he would have never let you go. Why? Not only you are the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his whole life, but your human nature makes you vulnerable. What kind of man would he be if he let his little doe all alone, where other men and his enemies could harm you or simply look at you?

• Aizen is the kind of man who wants everyone to know who you belong to. He does not think that resting his hand on the small of your back as two walk together is a sign of weakness. A powerful man, a god, always has a sweet, lovely girl by his side anyway. He therefore tends to show you off and makes it loud and clear that you are his property. If his arm is not settled on the small of you back, he grasps your hand and gently brushes his thumb on the back of yours.

• If he needs to call a reunion with his underlings, you are obviously going to attend it too. Do not expect to have a chair and sit on it comfortably. His lap is your chair and his hands will constantly hold your hips as you sit on him.

• If he catches a human man, a shinigami or a mere arrancar staring at you for way too long, approximately five seconds, there is a high possibility you are never going to see them ever again. Forever. Maybe in a cemetery.

• “I trust you blindly, my dear. You see, it’s them I don’t trust” he whispers, sipping on his tea on a lazy sunday morning, as you start to question him about what is wrong. You can see his jealousy and the urge to touch you, to hold you close and own you are dripping from his words.

• Intimacy is hellfire with him. He is an attentive lover and would never hurt you, unless you want him to. Yet, bitemarks and hickeys are now a permanent tattoo on your cleavage and neck. He loves to stare at them in the aftermath and watching people react to them as you walk around is absolutely delightful. The shit-eating grin on his face seems to scream “Yes, I did them”.

• He is not very fond in visiting the world of the livings and he would rather have you in Las Noches all the time. However, he knows you have a life. Working and studying to fulfill your duties and persue a career are valuable things to him too and he does not mind you spending your time in those activies. But he is your shadow. A colleague talks to you way too much? Oh, dear, he won’t even bother calling Gin to take care of him. He personally cuts him into smithereens, pieces too small to be put back together. A man buys you a coffee? Ah, some venom is going to be poured into his one.

• He does not forbid you to talk to people, but he loathes it when you talk to Kisuke Urahara. Do not even glance in his direction.

• He loves you genuinely, there is not denying it, but once he might have scared you a little bit. He was in the world of the livings with you, when he heard the local theatre would have hosted a company of shakespearean actors. The tragedy of “Othello” would have been presented and he bought two tickets for you.

• Throughout the time, he had his eyes on you. You were already pretty shocked as the play unraveled under your wary eyes, until his fingers glided over your throat and wrapped around it in a firm grip. It was tight but not enough to hurt you. Your breath hitched in your throat, his breath fanning your earlobe as your eyes were transfixed on the tragic scene before you. Othello had strangled his loyal wife, Desdemona, out of jealousy.

• “I do believe you got the message, darling. You are mine. The last thing I want is having to strangle you in our bed out of a rumor about your loyalty” he darkly whispered, making you gulp down nervously.

• Regarding the way you sleep, he usually wraps his arm around your waist and buries his face onto the crook of your neck. This way you cannot escape his grip. You are his, how many times does he have to remind you of that?

• Going to the beach is kind of a problem. He does not forbid you to wear bikinis, but he definitely glares at every male around you through his sunglasses. Man on a mission: the real shark is on the beach, not in the ocean.

Tags: @stygianoir

Author note.

Hello there! Woah, I took care of a request and I am kind of proud of this piece. I will probably take care of Urahara’s NSFW ALPHABET next. If you want to be tagged, comment below.

Likes, comments and re-posts are appreciated❤️

#aizen sosuke x reader #aizen x reader #aizen smut #aizen x y/n #bleach x reader #bleach aizen #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen sosuke smut #aizen x you

[queerxqueen]

No but I feel like the theory that Felix liked Oliver back is definitely plausible, isn't it? The cheek kiss, hand on thigh, giving him his clothes, not liking when Oliver hooked up with the sister, them often standing close together, even the jerk off session with the open door can all be interpreted that way, right? Or are these moment supposed to be loaded but ultimately mean nothing? What is your theory?

Ahhhh thank you for the ask! Yes, definitely!!! It's less of a theory so much as a particular reading of the film that folks can either agree with or disagree with.

Did Felix love Oliver?

On one hand - we see Felix being so affectionate in their very first meeting, and I do think that was intentional as a way to show that Felix is just like that. Unguarded and affectionate and warm. When his attention is on you, you feel like the most important person in the world. It's just that he eventually grows tired and throws you away and moves on. (See: Eddie. Annabel. "Last year's one.") You're not actually special, you're just the latest of his play things.

So I do think that reading of things is valid.

But god, to me, the idea that Felix at least at some point loved Oliver back makes the tragedy of it all so much richer and tragically beautiful.

It's the things you said - the casual affection. The blatant flirting. The lingering glances over dinner and the intimacy of all their silent communications. The door left open to their shared bathroom while he touches himself. The jealousy and possessiveness. The genuine betrayal and hurt under it all when he discovers Oliver's lies. Nearly kissing Oliver in the maze, despite everything. The protectiveness and savior's complex as a reflection of a sort of misguided white knight romantic hero ideal Felix wants to fulfill. The Juliet-esque angel costume, his illusion that his story is a romance.

But Oliver is so focused on making himself indispensable, so worried about being another one of Felix's old forgotten toys, that he doesn't see that Felix feels something for him too. And then everything goes wrong, when Felix finds out his lies, and Oliver thinks it's too late.

And that's the tragedy, really - that it might not have actually been too late. That if he'd given Felix space and time, he might not have lost Felix from his life completely. As Oliver said, "I mean, we’re going to laugh about this."

Because Felix does care about Oliver. Even after the lie. In the maze scene, he's still looking after Oliver, still caring about him. ("I think you need to see someone. You need help." / "Better?" / "I think you should go to bed.") That kind of gentle is so different from the posturing Felix did toward Oliver earlier in the party ("I tried to be nice but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?") and it shows that, even if Felix is throwing a fit and stewing in his emotions as he does, he still cares about Oliver and wants him to be okay. He wasn't throwing Oliver away just yet. Oliver just thinks he is.

Because Oliver has been waiting for and fearing this moment from the very beginning of their relationship, has seen so many examples of Those Left Behind By The Cattons. He thinks this is it, and he panics. He's impulsive and emotional, despite wanting too seem calculated. He reacts out of hurt and fear, and in doing so, ruins the only chance of getting what he truly wants. He self destructs, and hurts Felix before Felix has the chance to hurt him any more.

And isn't that self-destruction so much more tragic when it isn't inevitable, it isn't justified, but just an emotional reaction? When there was still a chance for a happy ending, but Oliver couldn't see it?

So all this to say (and wow this got long, sorry)... Felix loving Oliver is definitely up for debate depending on how you read Felix's character, but I do think the possibility of him loving Oliver makes the tragic ending that much more gorgeous and real.

#saltburn #cattonquick #felix catton #oliver quick #saltburn analysis #saltburn meta #my analysis #answered #anon

[barelytolerabled]

Lost and Found

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Your and Spencer’s son goes missing

Warnings: kidnapping, grief, smut (not explicit)

WC: 0.8

You and Spencer Reid had been happily married for several years when tragedy struck. Your child, a beautiful little boy named Jamie, had been kidnapped from his school. You were devastated, and you couldn't help but blame yourself. You had been running late that day and hadn't been there to pick him up on time.

You had been having a typical day, trying to juggle work and family responsibilities when you got the call that no parent ever wants to receive. It was the principal of Jamie's school, and her voice was strained as she explained that Jamie had been taken.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Panic and fear filled your chest as you frantically searched for your keys and rushed out the door, your heart pounding in your chest.

When you arrived at the school, it was a blur of flashing lights, uniformed officers, and concerned parents. You pushed your way through the crowd, tears streaming down your face as you searched for any sign of your precious little boy.

As time went on, the search for Jamie continued, but the lead seemed to be drying up. You were consumed with guilt, feeling like you had let your son down by not being there for him when he needed you the most. The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable, and you felt like you were living in a nightmare that wouldn't end.

The BAU team had done everything they could to find Jamie, but despite their best efforts, they had been unable to locate him. You and Spencer were beside yourselves with grief, and you clung to each other for comfort.

After Jamie had been missing for several days, Spencer had taken a leave of absence from the BAU to focus all of his energy on finding their son. He spent every waking moment either searching for leads or trying to comfort you, but nothing seemed to help ease the pain.

One evening, as you lay in bed, Spencer sat beside you with a determined look on his face.

"Honey, I promise you that we are going to find Jamie," he said, his voice soft and reassuring.

You didn't respond, just lay there staring at the wall, feeling numb and hopeless. Spencer took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know you're hurting, and I am too. But we can't give up. We have to keep fighting for Jamie."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you still didn't say anything. You felt like there was a heavy weight on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Spencer didn't push you to talk, instead, he lay down beside you, pulling you close to him.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I'm not going to give up until we find Jamie. We'll do whatever it takes."

You closed your eyes, feeling a small glimmer of hope in Spencer's words. You knew he was right, that you couldn't give up on finding Jamie. And as you lay there, wrapped in Spencer's embrace, you felt a sense of comfort and security that you desperately needed in that moment.

Several months after Jamie had gone missing, you were lying in bed with Spencer, tears streaming down your face. You had been reliving every moment of Jamie's abduction, and you couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness.

"My baby, my baby," Spencer whispered, holding you close. "Baby, my baby. Tell your baby that I'm your baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with tears. "I can't," you said, your voice shaking. "I can't do this without him. He was our baby, and now he's gone."

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I know, I know," he said, his voice full of sorrow. "But you still have me. I'm your baby, too."

You looked up at him, feeling a sense of comfort in his embrace. "You are my baby," you whispered, before pressing your lips to his.

As you and Spencer made love to each other, you both felt a sense of intimacy that went beyond physical pleasure. It was as if you were reminding each other of the depth of your love, the love that had brought you together and sustained you through the hardest of times. You held each other close, kissing each other deeply and exploring each other's bodies, seeking comfort and solace in each other's embrace.

In that moment, nothing else mattered except your love for each other. You forgot about the pain and heartache of Jamie's kidnapping, at least for a little while, and you surrendered to the intense pleasure that you both felt. It was as if you were rediscovering each other, reaffirming your commitment to each other in the face of tragedy.

As you lay there afterwards, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that you were not alone. You had each other, and you had the love that had sustained you through the darkest of times. It was a powerful reminder that, no matter what happened in the future, you would always have each other's love to rely on.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine

[tiptapricock]

KangTsung/Liushang headcannons? For mk1

YESSS yes yea yes yes ywa yeah yeH BABY

Send me some Mortal Kombat characters or ships for some nsfw headcanons!

———

Neither of them know how they end up there, actually

Like objectively, sure. Shang Tsung gets sent to infiltrate enemy lines via seduction and get on Liu Kang’s good side to more effectively cripple the Earthrealm defenses

He plays innocent, he acts interested, he makes all the right comments and leaves all the right lingering touches to make any man go wild

But Liu Kang… knows him. He knows who he was, who he shaped him to be. He knows he hates Shang Tsung with a burning passion, and yet…?

Could he have turned out differently? Could this timeline have been altered so drastically that Shang Tsung ended up on the good path all on his own? Liu Kang crafted others that way, like Mileena and Baraka and Sindel, but he hasn’t touched the fates of mortals since the universe began

So part of him, the part that is more well meaning, is curious

And the other part of him, the part of him that is lonely and craves the types of human intimacy he has long starved himself of, is… well.

If Shang Tsung is showing so much interest, it only makes sense that Liu Kang investigates by fucking him

It’s not like he could do much damage, right? He’s not powerful in magic as he was before, and here they are surrounded by warriors who would jump at the nearest chance to defend Liu Kang

And Shang Tsung is also… very good at working him up

His laugh, the spread of his long fingers on Liu Kang’s waist, the way his eyes flick over him as if he plans to devour

It is stupid, but it happens

Liu Kang invites him to talk in private, and takes things into his own hands

He is cautious at first, conversational, but he drops his own touches, lets his eyes burn across the table as he hands Shang Tsung tea

He gets up to talk about Earthrealm, to talk about his duties, and circles behind Shang Tsung to slowly push the hair away from his neck

And kneel down

And kiss the warmth of human skin for the first time in many centuries

Shang Tsung himself is caught off guard by the intimacy of it. He expected Liu Kang to be rushed and intense as many men past their breaking point would be, but he’s not

He is pressure and heat, a burning line of fingers dipping beneath Shang Tsung’s clothes, maneuvering him up and against the wall

A tongue and teeth, a back that glows as Shang Tsung rakes his nails across it, a divine buzz hanging in the air as they grind and palm each other through hanging layers of silk and cotton

Shang Tsung, for a few minutes, forgets his mission

It is odd to be treated like a holy thing, to have a god’s eyes fluttering closed as he strokes him slowly, to be pressed into a quiet moment of intimacy as if he belongs there

And it is exhilarating

They continue after that night. Shang Tsung offers himself, and Liu Kang accepts

They spend evening after evening tangled upon the sheets, foreheads pressed close as Liu Kang fills Shang Tsung in deep, steady thrusts, hands moving to cup his chest, his shoulders, his cheek

This is wrong, Liu Kang knows, this will only end in tragedy, but it is hard to stop

Shang Tsung peels back his layers, finds the soft wanting beneath, and tugs at it

He rests himself in Liu Kang’s throat and pets his hair gently, praising him for his heat and compliance, for the beauty of a body that does not need to breathe, and Liu Kang melts with it

It is a tumble into something neither of them can pull away from

Liu Kang finds a desire growing he cannot quell, a bleeding pool of connection he is finally able to sate, and Shang Tsung is… losing sight of why he was here at all

Liu Kang’s hips are firm when he guides Shang Tsung in training, pressing too close, lingering after practiced falls to keep him close to his chest and smirking when he feels Shang Tsung get hard

He makes Shang Tsung’s breath hitch with his smile and the sting of his teeth, his fingerprints flushed burns that mark Shang Tsung’s shoulders and ribs on the nights he loses himself too deeply

But he is kind. He is a lord that cares

Shang Tsung has never deserved that, or perhaps he has, and the world has stolen it from him

It’s ironic, he knows, to find gratification in the arms and cock of the man who wrote his destiny, but it’s hard to think that way when Liu Kang sinks down on him so fully, so deeply trusting, and makes him feel like the center of the world

On those nights, when he cannot stop thinking, Shang Tsung digs his nails into the curves of Liu Kang’s skin, pulling him close, his hips snapping up, his chest heaving, and tries desperately to hold on to the man he was sent to kill

#this is more emotions than smut thoughts I think but that’s bc they make me explode #it’s SO funny and it’s also SO fucking. fated for failure and also the most tender deeply recognizing shit you’ve ever seen #mortal kombat #liu kang #shang tsung #liushang #kangtsung #mk1 #nsft #cot n balls #cot n balls writing

[amputeewomen]

In a town, embraced by the splendor of natural landscapes, lived Cecilia, an 18-year-old with a spirit as vibrant as the town itself. Her smile was a beacon of positivity, illuminating even the dullest of days. Cecilia's adventurous nature was well-known, and her presence was as invigorating as the cool breezes that swept through the town's streets. With sparkling blue eyes, she carried an undeniable zest for life, a kind of enthusiasm that was both rare and captivating. Her laughter, easy and genuine, resonated with the joyful simplicity of life, making her a beloved figure in her community.

Cecilia's life took a dramatic turn one morning as she was cycling to college. It was a route she knew by heart, a path lined with towering oaks and chirping birds. However, that day, tragedy struck when a car, driven by a distracted driver, veered dangerously close to her. In a split second, Cecilia's world was turned upside down.

She awoke in the hospital to the stark reality that her left leg, severely injured in the accident, had to be amputated. This news would have broken many, but Cecilia, with remarkable strength, chose to face her new reality with a brave heart.

Cecilia made a conscious choice not to use a prosthetic. Her left leg's stump, marked with scars, was a visible reminder of what she had been through. But instead of hiding it, she wore these scars with pride. They were not just marks on her skin; they were a part of her story, a narrative of survival and resilience.

Her decision to openly display her scarred stump was a powerful statement. She challenged the conventional ideas of beauty and wholeness, showing the world her true self, unashamed and undiminished.

Back at college, Cecilia's presence was a source of inspiration. Her determination to continue her education, her refusal to be defined by her disability, was a testament to her inner strength. Her classmates saw her not with pity, but with a deep respect for her courage and authenticity.

Cecilia, embracing her new reality with unapologetic pride, found a unique sense of joy in the way others perceived her. She noticed the glances, sometimes lingering stares, directed at her stump, and it filled her with an unexpected sense of intimacy and connection. These moments, when a boy or a girl looked at her with a mix of curiosity, admiration, and perhaps a hint of something deeper, stirred something within her. It was in these exchanges, silent yet profound, that Cecilia felt a special kind of validation, not just of her physical form, but of her very essence. These interactions, subtle yet powerful, reflected a part of Cecilia's identity. She cherished these moments, seeing them as opportunities for genuine connection, breaking down barriers and fostering an understanding beyond words.

Cecilia also became a passionate advocate for road safety. She shared her story, not seeking sympathy, but empowering others to embrace their own challenges, whatever they might be. Her message was clear and powerful: our scars, visible or not, are a part of us, and they contribute to our unique beauty and strength.

Throughout her journey, Cecilia taught everyone she met about the power of resilience, the beauty of embracing one's true self, and the importance of living life to its fullest, regardless of the obstacles. She was not just a survivor of a tragic accident; she was a beacon of hope and strength, changing perceptions and touching lives with her indomitable spirit.

Cecilia's story is a reminder that true beauty and strength come from within, and that even in the face of adversity, one can choose to shine brightly, inspiring others to do the same.

#amputee #amputeegirl #lak #sak #left above knee amputee #leg amputee #onelegged #one legged #one leg #amputiert #amputation #stump #stumps #amputada #amputierte frau #amputee woman #amputeewoman #amputee girl #amputeebeauty #amputee beauty

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

You feel a chill down your spine, the hairs at the back of your neck prickle. You don't dare look behind you... The shadow smiles.

The Night That Feeds is a dark fantasy, interactive story.  It will have heavy themes of familial abuse, sexually suggestive themes (perhaps more explicit stuff too, eventually), and other dark themes. A comprehensive content warning will be made available as the story develops.

"This is a story of love, loss, and of trying to find a home".

*** Please keep your mental health in mind when playing games with dark themes. This game won't be as dark as some others, but I want everyone to be safe and healthy when consuming dark content.

Demo currently sitting at 21k words.

✧ Features/Will feature ✧

A customizable protagonist, name, gender, appearance. 

Multiple romance options (barely implemented at this time).

Demons!  Not in the way you may think.

An interesting fantasy land that you get to explore.

!!BARELY IMPLEMENTED--MOST CHARACTERS NOT MET!!

・❥・ Romance Options ・❥・

✧.*

Captain E. Ward: Fame, fortune, infamy... All these and more follow Captain Ward. Their job is a demanding one, an important one, a dangerous one. They seem to be a commanding, playful person, but how deep do their scars run?

Age: 30

["Isn't it beautiful?" They say as they stare out into the void. Nebulous clouds drift behind, trailing the ship. "So Void-damned beautiful, and so fucked up." They look you in the eyes, and lick the edge of their bottom lip. "You sure you want this, with me?"]

They are a lonely person, they crave, and despise attention. They're afraid of intimacy, of love. What kind of life is a life in the Void? Who would willingly share that with them?

TW: Attempted murder (on them), clinginess.

✧.*

Maddock: A surly mercenary, he watches out for you, all due to a 'favor' of a nature you can't discern. The way he looks at you is reminiscent of a deep longing.

Age: Late 30's, early 40's 

["I never thought that I'd be one ta' have somethin' like this at my age. I let my dreams go in my youth." He pats the cushion next to him. "You don' expect things ta' turn out, I've been a merc for so long, felt like all I knew how ta' do."]

He's a gruff man, doesn't got a heart of gold, but if you end up falling for each other, there isn't anything that would come between you.

TW: Possessive, sexual.

✧.*

The Hunger: It's been watching you for a long time... 

Age: ???

["Oh, if it isn't my little bird, what is it? Is your wing broken? You don't seem eager to fly away this time..." It slinks closer, grinning wide. ]

An entity, not... malevolent, at least not to you.  However, it holds a sick fascination for you. 

TW: Yandereish. Stalker. Obsession. 

✧.*

Fellis: A woman who seems to be around your age, she's an eager adventurer, she took a liking to you immediately, and seems keen to stoke the flames hotter. 

Age: 22, 23

["Oh, lovey. There you are." She takes your hand in hers, placing a gentle kiss along your knuckle. "I've brought something for you."]

She thinks you're the most beautiful person she's seen. She may even take up poetry to describe her budding love for you.

NO TW. MEGA FLUFF ALERT.

✧.*

Xep: A strange person, wearing bright crimson robes, with gorgeous star decaling in gold. They wear copious amounts of jewelry, and enjoy the finer things. They were immediately drawn to you, they were forced to this back water of a town, they never expected anyone like you to cross their path.

Age: 27

["I want to hold you, please stay?" Their mouth creeps upwards, the wine has given them a positively radiant complexion, the heat blatant on their cheeks.]

They're a sad soul, after experiencing a heart break that left them devastated, they never expected to find love again.

SLIGHT TW: Mentions of suicide, heart break, mentions of being cheated on.

Credit to:  nyehilism for the sugarcube template, you've made things easier on me as an aspiring IF writer, thank you.

#interactive fiction #dark fantasy #romance #my ocs #original world #interactive novel #tntf #the night that feeds

[covehearted]

≻ — Qiu painting your nails

Tags: Established romantic relationship, gn!reader, nail painting as a love language

Qiu Lin

Qiu likes painting your nails if you let them. It feels like their own brand of intimacy

They love to hold you, kiss you, and cuddle with you like other couples but something about painting your nails feels like it’s something uniquely theirs

They enjoy the quality time of it. They get to spend time with their favorite person and focus their attention entirely on you

There’s something hypnotic about their hands as they so very carefully apply the color you chose onto your nails. They take their time and make sure that they aren’t making a mess of it

Nail polish has become something special to them and how they express themselves. Being able to share it with you makes them feel happier than they expected

They’ll talk if you want them to, chatting with you or teasing you for being so tense because they’re holding your hand but they’re honestly just fine with the silence

You can see the focus in their eyes, the occasional crinkle between their brows as they do their best to keep the paint from smudging onto your skin

They’ll flick their eyes up from their task and catch you watching them and smile. They love you and they love spending this time with you

When they’re finished, they proudly watch for your reaction and if you’re pleased, their chest puffs up just a little bit, and their smile gets a touch wider

When you press a kiss against their lips to thank them, their beautiful brown eyes just soften with all the love they’ve felt for you

Would want to kiss you more if you move your hands around you might ruin the color they just put on and they’d have to start over again

And what a tragedy that would be… :>

#our life #our life: now & forever #qiu lin #olnf #olnf hcs #fanfic #imagine #headcanon #fluff

[kaiapaia]

i've tasted blood (and i want more)

Pairing: Yuuta Okkotsu/Reader

WC: 5,542

Content warnings: if you do not like blood, this is probably not the fic for you. Contains depictions of canon typical injury/vampire bites, as well as the symptoms and aftereffects of blood loss. Also contains some yan behavior/themes. Read at your own discretion. This fic also contains an explicit smut scene- no pronouns are used for the reader, but they are described to have a vagina.

Happy Halloween, witches! It only took me a month but I did finally finish my first Halloween fic. This one is a vampire au for JJK, featuring vampire!Yuuta. I had fun writing it, and I hope you have fun reading it as well <3

Title is from the song Toucha, Toucha, Toucha, Touch Me from Rocky Horror.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don't have an age in your bio or pinned, I will block you.

Yuuta’s been looking tired lately. Well, more so than usual. Even though he was turned only recently, Yuuta has the bone-tired look of someone who has seen many centuries pass. The transformation had deepened his dark eyes and sharpened his cheekbones, creating more places on his already angular face for the shadows of exhaustion to cling to. You might say it in jest, but a part of you really does blame Gojo for working poor Yuuta into the ground.

However, as much as you would like to, you can’t place all the blame on Gojo. Since he’d transformed, you’d only ever seen Yuuta drink from the cold storage synthetic blood bags kept in reserve- never the donated ones, and he avoids the volunteer feeding drives like the plague. Shoko just shakes her head. She tells you that while it’s not healthy, it’s survivable, so she can’t force him to feed.

When you finally worked up the courage to ask him why he hasn’t fed, he just smiled that disarmingly charming smile of his and told you not to worry, he just wasn’t hungry. You had to drag your gaze away from the points of his fangs, gleaming ivory under the harsh lights of the clinic.

You’ve been close to vampires before; there are several in residence at the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School. Maki feeds to maintain her incredible strength, and Nobara says that anything other than real blood will wreck her complexion. Both of them are beautiful- Maki in the way a leaping panther is beautiful, all lean muscle and coiled power, and Nobara in the way a roaring tiger is beautiful, brash and proud.

Yuuta is different. He is still beautiful, under the dark shadows that cling to his face like soot. But he is striking in the way a hurricane or car crash is. You look at him and can’t look away, in a way that feels a bit like morbid fascination in the face of disaster. He is a force of nature on his own- you’ve seen him spar on campus, and you know he’s the only person who can keep up with Maki or Gojo. You also know some of the tragedy that dogs his steps. People still go out of their way to avoid speaking Rika’s name near Yuuta, even after the dramatic mission last year where he finally put her soul to rest.

You’ve wanted to reach out, to offer him some comfort, especially after everything with Rika. For the most part he’s let you. He’ll sink into your embrace like it’s a soft bed after far too many hours awake, and you are content to hold and be held for as long as he needs.

These moments are unfortunately few and far between. Since he was turned, you’ve noticed Yuuta retreating further and further from you. He still acts like your friend, but he no longer drapes an arm around you, tucks his chin over your shoulder when he wants to see something you’re holding, or links your pinkies together when you stand close enough that your shoulders touch. You feel the loss of the casual intimacy keenly, and you can’t stop yourself from wondering what might have caused your best friend to pull away from you.

As a human with no special powers of your own, you assumed that Yuuta was simply gravitating towards people who shared his experiences and understood what he was going through. It didn’t make it hurt any less when he would startle when you walked in the room, look at you with those soulful dark eyes, and leave. You’d even noticed that when you stood near him, he would hold his breath. You knew that the turning sharpened mortal senses, but you didn’t think that you smelled quite that repulsive.

Since then, you’ve resigned yourself to this new state of your friendship. Yuuta has been through hell, more literally than most people, and you don’t want to put undue pressure on him to do something he obviously doesn’t want. So you let him keep his distance, opening your arms for him whenever he comes to you for comfort. You stroke his hair and murmur soft words in his ear, and try to tell yourself that those moments are enough when you watch him smile and laugh with his other friends.

You are caught off guard when he stumbles into the clinic in the middle of your graveyard shift. You are startled out of your studying by the loud crash of the metal doors being thrown open, and you look up to see Yuuta, fair skin and snow white uniform stained scarlet. His eyes are wild, and while his katana is sheathed you don’t miss the way he reaches for it when you jolt up behind the desk. You hurry around the desk, snapping on neoprene gloves before you reach for him, intending to check over the wounds that are still sluggishly oozing crimson.

Instead he bats you away, pressing one hand over his mouth and nose. “Stay away,” he growls at you, pushing past you into the clinic. He goes straight for the sink, turning on the faucet and leaning down to swallow mouthfuls of water. You watch him swish it in his mouth before spitting it out again, the water running red with blood.

“Yuuta, you’re hurt. Let me do my job and help you,” you try again, approaching slower this time, hands out as if you’re nearing a wounded animal.

He’s resting his head on his forearm, leaning against the wall. Pinkish water is still dripping from the corner of his mouth. “No. Don’t come closer,” he pants out. He’s trying to be commanding, but the state of his injuries and the way he’s struggling to regulate his breathing override any fear you feel.

You get close enough to carefully wrap a hand around one of his wrists, and you almost jerk your hand away in surprise. Yuuta’s normally cool skin is burning hot, pulse pounding so fast you can feel the beat of it on his wrist.

Gently but firmly, you pull him away from the sink, leading him to sit down on the nearest table. Now that some of the blood has been washed away, you can finally get a good look at his face. His eyes are bright, the bags gone. There’s even a flush to his normally pale cheeks. He looks healthier than he has in months, despite bleeding all over your operating table.

“What happened, Yuuta?” you breathe, looking him over. The immediate concern is two deep cuts, one reaching from the side of his neck down to his chest and the other biting deep into his side. You begin cutting away the tattered remains of his shirt and surprisingly enough he lets you, swaying forward to rest his head in the crook of your neck as he often does after rough missions. You feel him take a deep breath against your pulse point, the movement of air sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

“Was tracking a witch,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your skin. “Set a trap for me. Tricked me into drinking some of her blood.”

You keep your hands steady, treating what you can reach until you’re forced to put a hand on the uninjured side of his chest and gently push him away so you can reach the rest of his injuries. He doesn’t let you get far, keeping you close with a dazed look in his eyes and a flush burning high on his cheeks. His symptoms make a little more sense now; this has to be his first taste of real blood since he was turned. He’s going to have to stay overnight for observation; there’s a chance he could go feral.

You move to go to the cold storage unit and get him a blood bag. You know he’s probably ravenous right now. Blood will help him heal, and hopefully take the edge off his appetite so you can call for Shoko. Before you can get more than a step away, he locks his arms around you and pulls you back to his chest. He runs his nose along the curve of your neck, hot panting breaths blowing at the delicate skin. You reach up, running a hand through his dark hair and he practically purrs, leaning into your touch.

“You gotta let me go, Yuu,” you tell him softly, trying to coax him into letting you go. “I’m just gonna get you something to eat and I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t want it.” The words would sound petulant under normal circumstances, but right now it sounds desperate. “Tastes bad.”

“You have to feed on something, Yuu,” you say. “You’re running on empty, and you need something in your stomach so you can heal.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “It just all smells bad. It makes me sick.”

A thought crosses your mind. “You could feed on me,” you suggest, running a calming hand up and down his spine. “I know it smells bad but it’s fresh, and it’ll help you heal the fastest.”

You feel the shudder that rips through him. He sits up a bit, swaying. “No,” he protests. “I can’t, I’ll hurt you.”

You’re already unbuttoning your shirt, sliding it off your shoulders to rest in the crooks of your elbows, far enough away that hopefully it won’t get too bloody. You grab his hand, catching his attention. “It’s okay, Yuuta. I trust you, I know you won’t hurt me.” You slide a hand up to the back of his neck, drawing him close to you. He resists at first, but lets you pull him back to your neck.

His nostrils flare and he groans. “God, you smell so good,” he whines against your throat. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. It’s not fair for you to do this to me.”

“You don’t have to hold back. Take what you need,” you tell him, holding him close.

Yuuta hesitates for another moment, before his hunger overwhelms him. You feel the cool touch of his spit-slick lips before the hot prick of pain as his lips pierce the skin of your neck. The pain is sharp and hot for a moment, before it melts outwards in a wave of pleasure that crashes through your limbs like the aftereffects of a supernova. Now you understand why the volunteer feeding drives are always packed- this rush, the spread of his venom in your bloodstream, triggers a cascade of hormones that drives you into a state of euphoria.

You feel boneless, relaxed and adrift in a sea of warmth with only a slight sensation of suction on the side of your neck to ground you. Everything is hazy and electric all at once. You hardly register the cool wall of the clinic pressing against your back, but each brush of Yuuta’s hands on your skin makes every hair on your body stand on end. Every touch of his hands as they roam your body and each movement of his lips on your neck sends a shockwave right to your core. Within seconds, you are dancing on the edge of a peak that promises to be more intense than anything you’ve reached before.

Helpless to do anything else, a wavering moan escapes your lips. Distantly, you register an answering one rumble from Yuuta’s chest. A moment later, you feel his lips leave your neck and you whine at the loss of sensation. Everything still feels hazy, and not in a fun way. You see Yuuta’s face swim in front of your vision, a mass of pale skin, dark hair and darker eyes that are wide with an emotion you don’t have the capacity to name right now. You know he’s saying something, his words are high pitched and panicked in a way that makes your oncoming headache worse.

The air of the clinic starts to feel bone-chillingly cold. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to preserve the body heat that seems to be rapidly leaching from you. Yuuta’s fuzzy form dips out of your vision for a moment, returning with what you assume is one of the flimsy blankets kept in the clinic for such a purpose. He carefully drapes the blanket around your shoulders, but it’s not enough to keep you from shivering.

Ever so gently, you feel him scoop you into his arms. He sits down somewhere, cradling you to his warm chest so close that you can hear his heartbeat, pumping your lifeblood in his chest. The sound lulls you to sleep, pulling faster at the threads of exhaustion already dragging you down. As you fade away, you feel a faint press of lips to your forehead, and Yuuta’s gentle voice whispers to you, “I’m sorry. I know I should, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to let you go after this.”

When you swim back to consciousness, the first thing you feel is a splitting headache. You open your eyes to the sharp pinpricks of early morning sun stabbing at your pupils. Somewhere next to you, you hear Shoko’s voice. “Easy there kid. You’ve had a rough night. Take these,” she presses two pills and a bottle of water into your hands.

You swallow the pills and the cool water gratefully. After the pills have kicked in, you sit up, grateful that the world is no longer swimming in front of you. “Where’s Yuuta?” you croak, touching a hand to your sore throat. Your fingers meet the edge of a bandage, pressed neatly over the two puncture wounds on the side of your neck.

“Had to kick him out this morning. The two of you gave me a hell of a scare,” she looks at you reproachfully. “Came into the clinic to find the two of you looking like you just escaped a Saw trap. At least the kid was lucid enough to stop the bleeding last night, or this would have been a much rougher morning for you.” Shoko gestures to the bandage on your throat. “Practically had to pry him off of you though. He wouldn’t leave until I swore to him that I would stay with you until you woke up. Which reminds me, now that you are awake, I have a significant amount of blood to clean up out there.”

You move to get up and help, and she pins you with a glare. “Absolutely not. You are staying put until you’ve slept more and eaten that,” she points to a wrapped bento box on the bedside table.

“I’m sorry, Shoko. I’ll make it up to you,” you say meekly.

“You can do that by not letting a half feral vampire feed on you,” she grumbles, pulling on gloves and grabbing the cleanup kit from the closet. “Also by not complaining when I stick your ass on cleanup duty for the next month.”

You toss her a salute. “Yes ma’am.” You bite back the smile that’s threatening to pull at your lips. You must have been in a bad state last night, for your normally cavalier boss to fuss over you so much. It feels good, to have someone care for you like this.

The thought does drag your mind back to Yuuta- your last memory from the night before is his voice, saying something about not leaving you, but he is nowhere to be found. Shoko did say something about kicking him out of the clinic, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d threatened him to stay away for some time. She does get protective of you. You can’t help but feel guilty; you knew the potential consequences of what you were offering last night and had done it anyway, and now you’re sitting pretty in the clinic and Yuuta is most likely facing serious consequences for circumstances that had been largely out of his control.

You lay back down, lost in thought. There’s a lot of last night that’s blurry. You remember pretty much everything until Yuuta bit you, and after that your memory gets foggy. However, there are some things that you do remember that you can’t seem to get out of your head. Up until now, you’d thought that Yuuta had avoided you because he couldn’t stand your smell. After last night, you’re not so sure of that anymore. Granted, he was half feral with hunger and definitely not in his right mind last night, but you can’t help but hope that this means that things will change between you two. It had sounded like he’d been forcing himself to stay away from you, and you find yourself hoping that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t let you go again.

You fall asleep with that thought on your mind, and a faint smile on your lips. Your dreams are strange, disjointed things, but throughout them all you see familiar dark eyes in different places and you can’t bring yourself to be afraid.

When you wake a second time, the light in the clinic has changed to the golden rays of the late afternoon. For the second time today, you find someone waiting for you at your bedside, and for the second time today it’s not the person you’re hoping to see.

Even though you’ve been studying at the technical school for years now, Gojo still unnerves you. He wears those strange dark glasses everywhere, and they somehow make him look more unsettling than the few times you’ve seen him without them. Sure, they hide his wide, electric blue eyes that are so bright they seem to glow on their own. But the glasses also accent the two smaller pairs of crystal blue eyes that sit on the edge of his cheekbones and just above his brow bone. Both sets of eyes meet yours as you wake, and you’re met with the strange feeling that he’d known exactly when you would open your eyes.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Gojo greets you, making an act of looking up at you from the documents in his lap as if four of his eyes hadn’t been watching you wake up. “How are you feeling?”

“No worse than after a night out with Nobara,” you shrug your shoulders, reaching for the water bottle on your bedside table.

“Glad to hear it. You’re tough for a little lab rat,” he laughs, crossing his legs. “Shoko threatened me to keep it brief, so I’ll get to the point. Yuuta has been asking to see you. Do you want us to let him in?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately.

Gojo is uncharacteristically serious. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I knew the risks. I don’t blame him.”

“As long as you’re sure.” Gojo stands up, shuffling the papers on his lap back into their folder. You catch a glimpse of an ad for a local bakery mixed in with what looks like the pages of an incident report. “I’ll go tell him he can come see you. He’s been bothering me nonstop about it since Shoko kicked him out this morning.”

He walks to the door of your room, pausing on the threshold with one hand on the doorframe. “I hope you’re prepared for what you’re getting yourself into,” he tells you over his shoulder.

A few minutes later, you hear quiet footsteps outside your room. Yuuta has showered since you last saw him, his hair soft and clean and face free of blood. He hesitates at the threshold, but you beckon him through. “Come here, let me look at your injuries.”

He follows your demand, sitting on the bed next to your knees. You can feel his eyes on you and you know that there’s something he wants to say, but you decide to check where those wounds had been last night first. Thankfully, you are met with smooth, unblemished skin at his side and chest.

You pause there, one of your warm hands resting against the cool side of his neck where one of the wounds had been. You lift your eyes to meet his. A moment passes, then you both speak at the same time.

“I’m so sorry-”

“I’m glad you’re-”

You laugh, sliding your hand down his arm to his hand. You gently untangle his fingers from where they’re clenched in the hem of his shirt, and slowly twine your fingers with his. “I’m glad you’re alright, Yuu. You scared me pretty bad, running into the clinic all cut up like that.”

“I’m alright thanks to you,” he brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it. “Please don’t put yourself on the line like that again. I can’t lose you,” he asks, dropping his head to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m a tough cookie, Yuuta. I can take a little bite.” You squeeze his hand.

He groans above you. “You’re so cute. I don’t know how I ever convinced myself to stay away.���

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your face. “You think I’m cute?”

“I do. You’re irresistible to me,” he says, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You smell divine. You have no idea what a temptation you are. I tried to stay away; I was so worried that I would hurt you. And then you offered yourself up to me and I couldn’t resist anymore.” He lifts his head, bringing his free hand to your neck, tracing a whisper of a touch against the bandage. “I wish I could be stronger. Be better, for you.”

“You were starving, Yuuta. You endured so much.” You squeeze his hand. “I know you didn’t mean to, and I trust you. You won’t hurt me again.”

“I won’t,” he says, his voice full of conviction. He brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I won’t ever hurt you like that again.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and then lets go, reaching over to the bedside table to get the bento box that’s still waiting for you on the bedside table.

He shuffles closer to you on the bed and brings a piece of food to your lips, holding it patiently at the seam of your mouth until you open and delicately take the morsel from his fingers. You chew thoughtfully, watching him select the next piece of food from the box.

“What does this mean, for us?” you ask him softly, in between bites of food.

“It means I’m yours,” Yuuta answers, his voice solemn. “I’ll do whatever you want- be as close as you want me to be. I understand if you don’t want-”

You cut him off before he starts to spiral. “What if I want this? Want you?”

“Then I will give you all of me,” he says, dark eyes locked onto yours. “And you’ll be mine. Are you sure that’s something you want?”

You reach out, cupping his jaw in your hand. “I’m sure. I want you, Yuuta.”

He covers your hand with his, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for a long time.

“What do we do now?” you ask, looking at him.

He laughs. “All you need to do is let me take care of you,” he says, eyes warm. “There will be time for other things after you’re feeling better.”

True to his word, Yuuta does take care of you. Every moment he’s able, he spends time with you, making sure you eat, stay hydrated, and stay warm. He even brings you a selection of his hoodies to wear, and it’s hard to miss the way he preens whenever you wear one in public.

You spend the evenings together. He’s taken to cooking for you, complete with a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, and he smiles brightly whenever you oblige and plant a kiss on whatever part of him you can reach without getting in his way. After he’s fed you, the two of you will curl up on your bed and read together, or watch a few episodes of a show you both enjoy. It makes for a very cozy routine for the two of you.

Well after the point when you’ve fully recovered from the incident in the clinic, you notice that Yuuta’s cheeks have begun to hollow again, and the shadows are starting to cling to his face. You kick yourself for forgetting; he should have fed again by now to keep up his strength. Shoko will probably kill you herself if you end up in the clinic again for a bite gone wrong, so you approach the situation with care.

It just takes a bit of patience. You’ve noticed Yuuta is happiest when you let him do things for you, so you spend the evening asking him for help with little chores around your small apartment. You let him cook dinner and do the dishes afterwards, sitting at the counter and keeping him company while he works. You’ve done everything you can to make sure it’s a relaxing atmosphere; there are candles lit that give your little apartment a golden glow, and soft music plays from your little speaker.

You wait until the two of you are warm and curled up in your bed before you make your move. Yuuta is leaning against the wall, his chin on your shoulder and his arms looped around your waist, ready for you to pull out the book you’ve been reading together and find your place.

Instead, you turn slightly in his arms, just enough that you can see his face. “Yuuta, I think you need to eat,” you tell him.

He looks down at you, a very cute confused expression on his face. “What do you mean? We just had dinner?”

“You need to feed, Yuuta.” You take off the hoodie you’ve been wearing all night, leaving you in just your tank top and shorts. You let your head loll to the side, exposing your throat to him. “Let me take care of you like you take care of me.”

“What if I hurt you again?”

“You won’t. You only hurt me last time because you were half-feral and starving. I want you to feed before you get to that point again.”

His eyes are massive; the dark irises trained on the movement of your pulse at your throat. You can hear him swallow.

“Are you sure?”

You take his hand. “I’m sure, Yuuta. I trust you.”

He brings your hand to his lips, scattering delicate kisses over the back and where your pulse flutters at your wrist. “You are too good to me,” he sighs, breath skating over your skin. Gently, he slides out from behind you but he doesn’t go far. He pulls you down to rest on your back, hovering over you with a soft look on his face.

“What’re you doing, Yuu?” you ask, watching him from your position on the pillows.

“I wanna make sure you enjoy this, too,” he murmurs, dusting kisses down your throat to where the edge of your tank top sits on your chest. With tender care he lifts the edge of your tank up, waiting for your approval before he pulls it off of you. He repeats the same process with your shorts, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks as he looks at your naked body with such reverence in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

He trails his lips over every inch of your exposed skin, paying special attention to your nipples until they are stiff and puffy, shining with saliva in the soft light. Slowly, he moves his way down your body, kissing down your stomach until he’s hovering over the part of you that’s been crying out for attention under his gentle ministrations.

“You smell heavenly,” he breathes. He leans in and drags the flat of his tongue up your slit, savoring the wetness that’s begun to gather between your legs. “You taste divine,” he moans, the vibrations of the sound dragging an answering one out of you.

His tongue laves hot strokes over you, your pussy clenching around nothing as he tastes you. He keeps teasing your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue or rolling it between his lips for a moment in between licks, the motions stoking a fire in your belly When he pulls it between his lips and sucks, stroking it with the flat of his tongue, fire sears through your veins and you arch up off the bed, a long moan stuttering its way past your lips.

Yuuta pulls away from you for just a moment. “That’s it, my love. Let me hear you,” he moans, before diving back in and continuing to devour your pussy. His ministrations drive you higher and higher, fast approaching the peak with no sign of stopping. Pleasure floods your body, turning your limbs to jelly as he indulges in you.

When your orgasm hits, you feel a prick of pain on the inside of your thigh. A moment later, you feel a rush that amplifies and extends your release. It hits you so hard that you can’t even make a sound, arching silently off the bed, your mouth open in a soundless scream as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Your vision even whites out, everything going blank for just a moment before you collapse bonelessly on the bed.

You hear a faint slurping sound as you come back to yourself, and you look down to see Yuuta pulling himself away from your thigh, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth. The gesture doesn’t do much beyond smear the blood and cum across his face, but neither of you really care.

He pants for a moment, dark eyes unfocused, before his gaze sharpens and he looks down at you.

“How do you feel?” he asks, worry creeping into his expression.

“Like I just saw the face of god,” you joke, a breathless laugh leaving your lips. “What about you? Do you want me to return the favor?”

He blushes at that, a slow scarlet flush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks. “Ah, I’m fine. Don’t worry, I enjoyed myself.” He pulls back, sliding off the bed and standing up. You catch a glimpse of a dark spot on the front of his loose sleep pants before he walks away, moving towards your little ensuite bathroom. “I’m going to run us a bath. Don’t move.”

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you sigh, sinking into the soft pillows beneath you. You hear the faucet turn on, and a rustle of cloth. A few minutes later, Yuuta returns. You hold out your arms to him and he laughs softly, scooping you into his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, carrying you gently into the bathroom.

He sets you in the warm water and then slides in behind you. He lets you rest for a moment before he starts to run a warm washcloth over your skin, lathering you with bubbles that smell like your favorite soap.

You let him take care of you, only taking the washcloth for a moment to wipe the blood and fluid off of his face and neck, scrubbing his skin with a gentle hand. He leans into your touch, practically purring with his eyes closed for a moment.

Once you’re both clean, he gets out and dries himself first before helping you out of the tub and wrapping you in a fluffy towel. He leads you over to sit on the closed toilet before he opens a drawer and pulls out your little first aid kit. Gently, he pushes your knees apart to inspect the two neat puncture wounds that decorate the meat of your inner thigh.

He carefully swabs them clean, pressing an apologetic kiss to your knee when you hiss at the sting of the disinfectant. You watch him open two bandaids, bubblegum pink and printed with Hello Kitty, and position them over the cuts. Satisfied with his work, he rocks back on his heels and looks up at you. He pulls your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back before he stands up.

“Wait here, I’ll grab you some clothes,” he tells you before he walks back out into your bedroom. He returns a moment later, clean pajamas and underwear in one hand and your favorite hoodie of his in the other. Yuuta helps you dry off and dress, making sure to support you when your knees wobble.

Once you’re clean and dressed, he takes you back to bed and settles you down with a bottle of water and some snacks, before curling in beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You snag your laptop from your bedside table and turn on an episode of the show you’ve been watching together and snuggle in, opening up the snacks that he brought you when your stomach rumbles.

The two of you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in blankets and in each other.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #tw blood #tw vampire #tw yandere #if you got this far mwah thank you ily #kaiawrites

[deebris]

Melancholy II

Kakashi Hatake x wife reader

Synopsis: To learn to overcome the loss of your child, you and Kakashi went through challenges, and it certainly wasn't easy at all. The tragedy harbored bad feelings in your family, and you two tried not to let it affect your sons. But now, with the discovery of a fourth pregnancy, things can change again - for better or worse

Warnings: trauma, mention of misscariage, mention of depression, labor pain, argment, intimacy, kiss.

Words: 5.3k

Observation: Happy ending - part I here

The hot summer breeze made your hair sway along with the loose leaves of the trees, revealing your serene and concentrated face. Kakashi admired the beauty you exuded while he was looking from afar, not having the courage to go up to you, at least not where you were now. If you were in any other environment, he would definitely meet you and give you all the praise you deserve. But he preferred to walk away.

You were kneeling in front of your child's grave with your youngest son Kenji, both clasping your hands in prayer as you meditated. The boy always insisted on accompanying you during your monthly visits to the cemetery, helping you put new flowers and clean the place.

He always finished his meditation first, but he didn't dare get up until you finished too. Sitting still was difficult for a child, you know, and so his effort to remain patient was all the sweeter in your eyes.

After a brief five minutes, you had no more prayers to say and opened your eyes to see him transfixed on the name written on the tombstone: Satoru.

That same year you lost the baby, Kakashi advised you not to find out the sex of the child, but you were stubborn and asked Sakura anyway. You weren't even sure if it would be possible to find that out, as you didn't know if your pregnancy was advanced enough to reveal such a thing. But asking doesn't cost anything, does it? And then she told you it was going to be another boy. It was even a little comical, it seemed like you were destined to be the mother of boys, and after that you couldn't help but name him. You imagined what his little face would look like, you dreamed about him, wishing he was more than a fantasy.

What would his personality be like? How would his voice sound? Will you finally have a child that looks like you? Your husband was lucky, both of your children were perfect copies of him. What's the use of carrying a baby for 9 months and being betrayed like that by genetics? How unfair. Maybe that's why they say not to name dead babies, to go on in the void and forget, but you didn't like the feeling. Forgetting felt wrong.

Kakashi didn't want you to get attached to a child you've never even met, he said it would only make you suffer further. And for a while it felt like it was all about you, and only you. But you weren't silly, he was ashamed to admit that he was afraid of suffering from that too, of getting attached. Your husband was afraid that he wouldn't be able to move on, that it would haunt you both forever. Time heals all, isn't that what people say? Didn't he once tell you that you guys would get over it? So why weren't you getting over it?

Of course, after a while the pain got easier to deal with, but it was still there. And you constantly missed something, someone. Your family seemed incomplete.

He didn't get mad when you went after finding out the sex of the child, and he didn't fight when you gave him a name, but he was furious when you said you wanted to make a grave.

Spring - 1 year and 8 months ago:

You were cleaning the kitchen with Katsuo when the argument with your husband started. There was tension after the two of you exchanged some dangerous words, nothing had really gotten serious yet, but your eldest decided to immediately drop the uncompleted work and leave the room. He didn't even bother to excuse himself, just wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"That's enough for me!" He got up from the table abruptly "I tried, at all times, to understand you. I also suffered from this!" You remembered the conversation you had with him the day you cried together in the hallway, the way you found him, totally in pieces. Like you. "And all I wanted was for you to try to understand me too!" he spoke in a serious tone, but never shouting "But you just decide you want to make a grave, when I've told you countless times to keep it anonymous!"

Even when angry, your husband was calm. He was obviously exhausted, but there were no signs of violence there. You wondered how anyone could be so passive. If anyone else saw how Kakashi treated his family and friends, they would never believe that he really is the ninja of rumors. The man who defeated Zabuza Momochi, who fought Obito Uchiha - the fearsome Copy Ninja.

"Do you really want to immortalize this suffering by carving it into a stone?!" you listened silently for the moment, having already set the dishes aside in the sink and getting the reaction you feared he would have before telling him your pitiful wish "I already have too many people to visit the cemetery, Y/n..." His voice cracked for a moment making you shiver "Please, don't give me another one."

Your heart broke into little pieces. That was what you needed to realize how much distress you were causing him, that you were acting like a monster with the man who had never done anything but be good to you. Because that's what you were being, isn't it? A monstrous one. But not in a thousand years would Kakashi see you that way, he wasn't able to read your thoughts to tell that you weren't a bad person like you thought. He couldn't compare his pain to yours, having closely followed your suffering beyond emotional, physical. He just didn't know how to deal with what you were asking him to do.

"You don't need to visit…" you spoke softly hoping that the situation would work out for the two of you. The last few months were the worst of your life, you felt a need all the time, a need to fill a void. You feared that you were slipping into depression, but you tried not to let yourself get bogged down in those emotions.

"Stop being selfish!" Kakashi finally exploded, in a tone you've never heard him speak, abandoning his calm posture. He regretted it as soon as he said the cruel words. His wife wasn't a selfish person, far from it, you were the most selfless person he has met.

You felt your throat close, as if you were going to choke, and your eyes burning with an imminent urge to cry. But you can't cry, if you cry, Kakashi will be destroyed.

"I-" you were interrupted by a whimper in the distance, feeling stupid for having forgotten that Katsuo and Kenji were at home, clearly hearing the argument. If making you cry was bad, making your kids cry would affect him twice as hard.

A very heavy aura hung over the residence, what the hell was going on with you two? You and your husband weren't a bickering couple, in fact, you were the complete opposite of that. It happened at times that you blurted out hostility in the presence of the children, and on those few occasions you noticed that small things were enough to frighten the boys, used to the fact that their parents rarely fought.

Only this time it was serious, and to top it all off, the one screaming was their father. How could they not be scared? Kakashi never raised his voice even to correct them, and now he looked very angry. From you?

You abandoned your discussion and left him alone in the kitchen to check which of the boys was crying, and when you arrived in the living room you discovered that it was Kenji.

"Mommy..." The child sobbed your name when he saw you and you took him to comfort. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and gripped the fabric of your clothing tightly - shivering.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you rubbed your hand on his back, sliding it up and down in an attempt to soothe him. "It's going to be okay. Shh..."

You shivered as you saw the guilty look on Kakashi's face as he froze in the middle of the room. He must have followed you, and you felt so ashamed of having caused all this that you couldn't stand to stay there any longer, going up the stairs with Kenji in your arms to escape from his eyes.

Katsuo was already a little older, he understood what was going on between his parents, both you and your husband knew about it. From your shared room, even with your son still crying, you could hear a door slamming loudly in the hallway and Katsuo yelling at Kakashi.

You hated to fight, Katsuo hated to see you fight. But for some reason it kept repeating itself.

Kakashi entered the room after a few minutes, skittish as a cat and hearing Kenji sniffle clinging to you.

"Shh" You kept whispering in his ear while singing a lullaby, rocking him, and the boy called to you softly repeatedly, pleading.

You were surprised to notice that Kakashi was already right next to you at the end of the bed, he put his hand on your son's back to get his attention, but that made him cringe and bury his face even more in you.

"Kenji." Kakashi called after him, surprised that his son was trying to avoid him.

"Honey, daddy is talking." you tried to intervene.

"I don't want you to fight..." he said, suddenly crying loudly when he remembered the two of you arguing a few minutes ago.

"Let's not fight anymore" your husband smoothed his hair as he still refused to show his face to his father "I promise." Kakashi looked at his wife in anticipation that you would help him convince the child.

"It's true, little angel."

And really, you never fought again. But instead, uncomfortable moments of silence began to plague you and him too often, preferring to remain silent when you realized that the situation could lead to a fight. And this has affected your communication with your husband, making the two of you more distant.

.

Now it's been two years. After that day Kakashi made your son's grave without you even knowing, maybe trying to redeem himself for something that wasn't his fault. You had completely dropped the idea and didn't expect you guys to talk about it again.

You didn't know if surprise was the exact word you were looking for to describe what you felt, but it probably came closest. Imagine your amazement: you were at the Memorial Stone, getting ready to leave after visiting all the deceased relatives and friends on a Sunday, when he told you there was still one person missing. He showed you the way and you were moved to see the name written on the tombstone. That was the last time he was there, after which you never saw him there again. But Kakashi made sure to memorize your reaction that day, you looked amazed.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you smiled at Kenji who was still focused on the carved letters and gave his chubby cheek a kiss to get the youngster's attention.

"Let's visit Grandpa Sakumo's sepulcher." you took his hand, which was much smaller than yours, going to your father-in-law's tomb.

You didn't know Kakashi's father, but from the stories you heard your husband tell the boys, he was an honorable man. He never avoided telling his children about the shinobi's tragic end, as he thought it was important that they have a reference of strong values ​​when they become ninja too.

Your eldest son was not so childish anymore, although he was still a child. But with only 10 he had already developed an unshakable sense of justice, which perhaps neither you or Kakashi could mold so easily anymore. He would certainly be a man of good character, just as you would expect Kenji to be too.

"Katsuo is here, Mom! Look." Kenji shook your hands together excitedly when he found his brother already meditating at Sakumo's grave, he probably visited the Memorial Stone with his father first and then came here. Kakashi could spend hours in that part of the cemetery, sometimes coming in the middle of the week, just to stare at the names of his two former companions - Obito and Rin.

"Be silent so as not to interrupt him." You said gently, motioning with your fingers for him to keep quiet and the three of you ended up going home without Kakashi.

"Thanks for the food, Mom." Katsuo thanked you as he removed his nearly full plate from the table.

"You bad ate."

You decided to start dinner when the clock showed that your husband was already 1 hour late, which was unusual, at least not without letting you know. You thought that something unforeseen arose in the Hokage's office. Things have been crazy lately, everyone running out of time to prepare for Naruto's inauguration ceremony as Nanadaime. But the news was encouraging, for you mainly because it meant he would be spending more time at home.

"I'm not hungry." he said in a despondent tone, going upstairs and locking the bedroom door. He always acted like this after visits, and the reason was you. He didn't want you to visit Satoru, interpreting that he was the reason you've been so bad these last few years. And no matter how many times you told him that it wasn't anyone's fault and that visiting the place didn't hurt you, he was still young to understand.

"Can I have his dango?" Kenji asked making you sigh, everything was going so well for a peaceful day.

You suddenly felt like throwing up, bile rising in your throat catching you off guard. You immediately ran to the bathroom and emptied everything into the toilet, nearly spilling your guts out. You sat down on the floor and took a breath, feeling more dizzy for having bent down so quickly, making you break out in a cold sweat.

"Mom, are you ok?" Kenji stopped at the entrance to the room.

"I just got sick all of a sudden, it'll pass." you both heard the front door open.

"Kakashi?" you shouted his name from the bathroom, finding it irregular that he didn't announce his arrival.

"It's me, I'm home." Kenji dashed off to meet him, completely forgetting about you. Daddy's boy, you thought jealously of his preference for the father.

"Daddy, you missed dinner." your child said as you brushed your teeth to get the bitter taste off tongue.

"Oh yeah? You didn't eat mine, you sweet tooth?" you heard your husband's muffled voice in the bathroom playing with him. If you hadn't experienced it three times before, you'd try to convince yourself that it was a bad thing caused by spoiled food, but there's no use denying it, you know the symptoms all too well.

When you felt that you were discouraged, you sought out Sakura as quickly as possible, trying to be more thorough. You only trusted her, knowing well how skilled the kunoichi was. Well, you wasn't sure how far along you were, although Sakura had tried to give you a more accurate diagnosis, even that  you weren't tracking your cycles accurately either. But you'd venture to say it was the start of the second trimester.

You haven't imagined yourself pregnant again, in fact you haven't imagined yourself like this since you gave birth for the second time. You feared losing that child too, a fear you didn't feel with Katsuo and Kenji. You sure turned into a chicken.

You didn't even want to think about the impact this baby would have on you before and after birth, it could be negative or positive. Would this child fill your void? Would you be substituting one child for another? Would that be cruelty? You asked yourself so many questions, but you forced your brain to relax, reminding yourself to remain calm for the sake of the baby in your belly.

In your first two pregnancies, you only had positive thoughts. You weren't nervous about the birth, although some women in the village tried to scare you, and you were fascinated by the idea of ​​becoming a mother. You and Kakashi were so happy, and now you would too. No matter the future, no matter the others, you would only have good thoughts and that new child would be born strong and healthy. This baby would be wanted, if only by you.

You've settled Kenji into his bed, adjusting the blankets so he doesn't feel hot at night. You said goodnight and closed the door to his room, leaving a gap for light from the hallway to enter the room. You knocked on Katsuo's door and tried to talk to him, but the boy just shouted good night to you, not bothering to come and open the door. Kakashi was still downstairs and it was late, so you took the opportunity to go talk to him. Night shifts were one of the only times you and your husband could talk alone.

"Everything is good?" you asked when you saw him sprawled on the couch. Most of the lights were already off, except for the hallway light and a few lightbulbs around the house.

"I thought you were already asleep." He said surprised to see you still walking around the house.

You walked further into the room and made a sign that you were going to join him on the couch, so Kakashi raised an arm to welcome you beside him. You laid back and rested your head on the ninja's chest, hugging his torso as he lowered his arm to rest on your waist.

After a while just smelling the fabric softener of his shirt that you washed, you moved and placed a kiss on his exposed neck, climbing into his lap to kiss his lips next.

Kakashi loved those moments with you, because they were rare, the main culprit being his work. So when it happened he felt like he was in heaven. Your mouth was soft, sweet and the man's lips fit yours like a glove, but he gently pulled you away before the kiss got deeper.

"Not here." Kakashi didn't like being so intimate with you outside the bedroom, embarrassed that the boys would catch you. Even an innocent kiss made him uncomfortable, and you respected his space even though you had no intention of taking things to another level right now.

And it was funny to see him feel uncomfortable with things like that, considering he's the biggest fan of an erotic book series. Once Katsuo almost got you in the bathroom and Kakashi spent the whole week avoiding touching you, even when you were alone, like it was some kind of crime.

"I need to talk to you." you said getting off him.

"About...?"

"I'm Pregnant." you said bluntly, feeling him tense up. His heartbeat skipped a beat, coming back slow and then speeding up a little.

"Do you think or-"

"I'm sure." you lifted your head to look into his eyes and realized he was staring at the floor in confusion. You placed a hand on his cheek, drawing your husband's attention to you.

"I don't know how long, but I think it's well underway." you two were silent for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity "Kakashi, I think I'm past the third month."

He felt more hopeful, knowing full well the importance of yout last sentence.

"Darling..." you were going to continue talking when you saw him gulping, but he grabbed you by wrapping both arms around his wife.

"I understood." he rested his lips in her hair, enjoying the comfort of the hug "When did you find out?"

"Last week." He immediately broke the hug.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I was trying to work up the courage..." you were sincere "you want this child, don't you?"

"You shouldn't even consider thinking such a thing. Of course I want to." he said kind of scolding you "Why would you think I don't?"

That would be the conversation you probably would have had with him years ago, if you had the chance to sit down with him and tell about the pregnancy in those days.

"I don't know. I think it's because we never planned a third child." you moved from him to the other side of the couch to talk more seriously "With Kenji and Katsuo it was different."

"You shouldn't worry about me, you know I would never reject our child." he straightened up, coming out of the relaxed position he'd been in before, feeling a flicker of doubt about your trust in him "You know that, don't you?"

"I know you, I know the type of man you are..." you played with your hands trying to relax "But I can't help but get nervous, everything seems to scare me lately." He noticed your hands moving frantically and wrapped his in hers.

"You are my wife; you are the mother of my two children. We have been married for 11 years, I would never abandon you, or abandon a child just because it was not planned." he stopped talking, wondering if he should tell you the next part "Sometimes I think about Satoru, and I wish he were with us." He added and you widened your eyes, Kakashi had never called the baby by name. In fact, he never spoke to you about him unless necessary or in discussions. "Do you think I wished him dead?" Kakashi asked afraid of her answer.

But what? Kakashi thought so? You would never connect his desire to leave the baby incognito with something so cruel and obscure, you understood perfectly well why he didn't want to name him. You always understood.

"Never." you turned desperately to your husband stroking his hands. "I never thought that of you, Kakashi." You shed thick tears and sank your body into his, wanting to stay there forever. Safe and comfortable in his arms.

"Please, do not cry." he asked you "I'm going to take care of you; I'm going to take care of this baby. It's going to be okay."

You would venture to say that this was your smoothest pregnancy. You didn't have to deal with jealous of any of the boys, and Kakashi was more present, not being Hokage anymore. It was just wonderful, like a dream. You sometimes feared that everything would start to fall apart, because it was too good to be true. It was strange that after so long drowning in grief, things could be starting to turn around again. Your family was getting back to normal.

In the 8th month, your water broke. It was early for delivery and you just freaked out. What if something is wrong? Kakashi was calm, knowing that a baby being born at the 8th wasn't that dangerous, but you couldn't stay calm at all. When Sakura finally came to your rescue, you felt more relieved after she confirmed what Kakashi told you about you being on time, trusting her while you screamed in pain from the contractions.

"The boys were born a week late, remember?" your husband tried to strike up a conversation with you to distract you

If you said you remembered, it would be a lie. Kakashi kept that information for that long? How was it possible that he remembered and you didn't? But soon his thoughts were interrupted by another wave of pain, which made him feel sorry for you for having to go through this.

"Soon our baby will be here with us." He said wiping the sweat off your forehead "It'll pass soon"

No, I won't go soon. And you both knew it, but you let yourself be trusted by him.After an 11-hour delivery you heard a baby crying loudly. The burning sensation occurred in the child's body because pulling air into lungs for the first time made the kid scream, just like every baby when it is born. Those outside the hospital room heard it too, announcing that you had managed to bring your child into the world. You can finally rest, sweaty from the effort it took to push. Your body was all asleep, but you just wanted to hold your newborn right now.

Sakura handed the baby into Kakashi's arms after he cut the umbilical cord, and then brought him close to you.

"It's a girl, Kakashi-sama." you cried with happiness when you heard that. You were the mother of a little girl.

Kakashi carefully placed her in your arms, seeing that you were still weak and might not be able to support your weight. But he noticed that his daughter was so small and so light that even the wind could carry her.

"She is a very strong and healthy girl. Congratulations to you both!" Sakura said happy for you, finding the sight of you holding a baby comforting, reminding her of holding Sarada for the first time.

"Why is she so small?" Kakashi asked her as you admired the blurry features of the child in your arms.

"Oh, she just is." Sakura replied nonchalantly, making Kakashi relax "I'm sure she'll grow up as strong as her brothers. But I'll leave you alone now." The woman left the room after collecting some objects and finishing filling out a hospital form.

You had finally realized that she was very close with her father, yet another clone of Kakashi for your misfortune. But you couldn't wait for her hair to stay long, just to spend hours combing it. You wanted her to stay that way, a little baby forever, but at the same time you yearned for her to grow up. You would wait for the day when you could finally share secrets with her, gossip and try on clothes until you drop. You loved your two boys with all of your being, you'd die for either of them, but having a girl felt different. Maybe it was because you dreamed about it for a long time, you didn't know how to explain it, but you already felt the need to develop her from everything and everyone. She was so delicate and cute, you were afraid she would break like porcelain.

Kakashi noticed the expressions you made while admiring your daughter, you practically beamed with how happy you were, and he hasn't seen you like this in a long time.

"You want to meet your little brothers, hmm?" You asked your daughter who made typical baby noises, knowing she wasn't going to answer. Your husband took this as a cue to go get the boys who were under Hinata's watch in the hospital waiting room. She really helped you a lot, both in the past and now. You would make sure that you thank her properly and that you can repay all of her help one day.

"It's a girl." Kakashi told his friends who were in the waiting room a few minutes ago and everyone started to congratulate him. "Thanks for coming over here."

"When can we see her, Kakashi?" Guy asked his friend.

"Yes! Kakashi-sama, I want to see her too!" Ino begged excitedly to see the baby. She was passing by to see Sakura at the hospital when she heard you were here and couldn't resist waiting to see the baby when was born.

"I'll take the boys now, but soon you'll be able to see them, I promise."Kakashi told Ino and everyone else who was present. He put his hand behind his neck to ease the tension and tiredness and then he picked up the children who were half asleep from waiting so long. He thanked Hinata briefly, who told him that soon Naruto would come too, and headed to the bedroom with his sons. "When you enter, be quiet" he told both of them when they arrived at the door.

"Yes Daddy!" Kenji responded by rubbing his hand over his mouth as if he were zipping up.

"Let's go!" Katsuo pulled his father anxious to see his sister.

"Hey, calm down."

Upon opening the bedroom door, Kenji completely forgot to be silent and made a fuss, shouting excitedly to see you after so many hours. The baby started crying over the noise, and Kakashi scolded himself for being so sloppy with the youngest. But you didn't seem to care about the situation, in fact, the boy's enthusiasm rubbed off on you as you tried to get the baby calm again.

Kakashi took Kenji on his arms and carefully approached him by your side on the bed when he saw that he was trying to climb up, but he couldn't win due to his low height. Katsuo ran to stay on the other side and they both knew to admire their little sister.

"Why is her face so weird?" Kenji as usual had no filter.

"She was just born." you told him sympathetically and they expected to pepper you with questions about her, coming one after another like a train.

"Boys, slow down." he warned the boys "your mother is tired."

"Sorry, Mommy."

"All good." you looked at Katsuo who was sitting on the bed with you "Want to hold her?"Even though he was big, Kakashi didn't feel confident letting his son hold the baby.

"Y/n..." he was going to try to tell you that Katsuo was still too young to hold his sister.

"It's okay, Kakashi." you tried to reassure him "He won't put her down, kids younger than he babysit."

You pulled Katsuo closer to you, instructing him on what to do to hold the girl. You stayed alert and put an arm around the boy to prevent him from ending up knocking her over.

"I want to hold too."

"Not you, you little dwarf." Kakashi immediately intervened, leaving no chance for the 6 year old to consider holding the baby. You sighed at his attitude of not trusting boys.

"What is her name?" Katsuo asked you as soon as he held his sister.

"Do you want to name her?" you made an offer.

"Sayuri!" Kenji shouted, excited to be able to choose the baby's name

"What?! Where did you get that horrible name?" You see they were going to start arguing about which name to choose and immediately regretted it "It's going to be Misaki.

"You're just saying that because it's the name of the girl you like!" In fact, Kenji was quite the gossip. You didn't even know about this girl.

"The girl you like, is it?" Kakashi teased his son by ruffling his hair and making the boy blush.

"Kakashi!" You warned him to stop teasing a child. "How do you end up knowing so much stuff, you little brat?" You asked Kenji pulling his nose playfully, which made him laugh.

"What do you think of the name Rin?" Kakashi asked you suddenly, worried about your reaction.

"Rin? Like Daddy's friend?" Katsuo asked confused.

"If you don't mind, of course." He added to you expectantly

"Rin..." You repeated the name, testing how it sounded "Sounds good." you said smiling, knowing how much that meant to him. You know how much Kakashi feels guilty for her death, they were just kids at the time and they had to go through so much.

"I liked too." Kenji said taking you by surprise.

"Snow!" Katsuo said excitedly as he looked at the window behind

It messed you up, you lost your last baby on a winter night. And the season that already showed sadness, despite its built-in beauty, had become even sadder with the memory of your son. But now your little girl has come to give the season a new meaning, a good one.

You looked at the little girl again, taking her out of Katsuo's arms to let him run to the window with his brother to watch the first snowflakes fall. You let the baby girl play with your index finger, grabbing it with her chubby little hands.

Kakashi who came down beside you kissed his daughter's forehead and then your temple.

"I love you."

That was the first time in years he said he loved you verbally.

"You and they are the light of my life." He brushed a few strands of hair off your face, "I couldn't have asked for anything better."

"Thanks, Kakashi." If you were already crying rivers of joy at the birth of your daughter, he just made you cry an ocean. He didn't need you to say you loved him back, having heard you say it many times already.

Etiquetas: @ghostsfavhoe @bbkissme99

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[forgiveness-in-the-misery]

I think as a retrospective for myself that there are complications on “this show handled queerness as well as it could” vs “this show pretended to have any idea how to handle queerness and used the fantasy of queer romances to bait in audiences then shame them.”

Let us start with Hannibal which falls into the category of handling it as well as it could with the era and the network tv factor. We got to see a lesbian romance between Alana and Margo which is already a plus above some other shows. The relationship between Will and Hannibal is deep and complex and coded with the word friend as we see in shows like Our Flag Means Death, Good Omens, and Righteous Gemstones. The word “friend” does not ever deny or negate the intimacy or queerness between two men, because with Hannibal we constantly get blatantly romantic dialogue between the two men, their final moments are spent in a romantic embrace with Will’s head resting against Hannibal’s chest. They constantly refer to loving each other and outside characters state that they are in love with each other.

The show did not have a faux promise of a gay romance. The romance was there.

Gotham is a cluster fuck. Gotham on the other hand was the network show where two women are making out and having sex and you assume they are a couple, but the show itself and most promotion for it claims they have an almost sibling bond. They are just friends waiting for men they love. Then the other “queer” rep of the show comes primarily in the form of Oswald, a heavily gay coded male character with no romantic interest, until falling openly and loudly in love with his male friend, Ed. Of course this doesn’t play out but the interviews and social media team fucking went into over kill cramming the idea of these two men becoming a couple down your throat….until they stopped. Suddenly the actors back pedal claiming Oswald isn’t even gay, he’s a virgin so he doesn’t know what he is. Both men are given female interests who act like them and its awkward and forced and dies fast. The show’s final season introduces a bizarre homoerotic relationship between Oswald and an older man…. The showrunners proclaim that Oswald and Mr.Penn have a father/son bond, that Penn is like a father to him…..despite the fact Oswald literally has this man on leash and collar and yknow already has a dad.

The show returns to teasing an idea of Ed and Oswald and a romance only to find them awkwardly embracing and claiming a sibling bond instead as if two seasons ago Oswald didn’t want to fuck his brains out. Allegedly the network is the cause of all this, but I don’t accept that. You would learn quickly if the network would not allow gay romances and work accordingly with that instead of pushing some of the worst handled non romances I have seen in modern TV.

What We Do in the Shadows I still clump with Gotham because I see and have seen the exact same tactics with both shows. The poor handling of queer love is at this point the least of my issues with What We Do in the Shadows, at this point finding out the chairman of FX wanted the sixth season to be the end because Paul Simms fucked himself by turning Guillermo into a vampire for one second then undoing it because Simms wanted to just “get it over with” is hilarious to me at this point. waikiki was open about Guillermo’s final choice as either slayer or vampire would be the story’s end and Simms somehow translated it to mean “get this shit out of the way so we can write jokes about ball hair”. The show had potential overall and was heading in a good direction. Season four was so fucking beautiful I can write a ton of pieces on the beauty and tragedy of it and I despise Simms with an intense passion for spitting on that.

In terms of queerness and romance….Guillermo and Nandor as friends or platonic or family or lovers all work fine narratively. I just despise how the show always promoted the idea and tease of romantic love, only to eventually get to the point of Simms joking or not to ask “who wants to see that?” In response to the idea of two men kissing, treating a kiss or exchange of love confessions as if it is obscene and repulsive.

I think the wildest thing for me is when shows are more and more current and still fall into this pattern of promoting a gay romance that was never truly intended in the first place. Mostly I despise this because shows end up wasting a lot of fucking time they could spend on actual plot and character development instead of polls on twitter about if in this new episode a kiss may happen when they know it never will.

#hannibal #gotham #what we do in the shadows

[vannahmontannah]

flowers in the rain

READ THE REST ON WATTPAD @ vannahmontannah

Hearing her soft moans only made me want to put in more work. I kissed her neck and she clawed at my back, her body arching towards me as I continued to please her. She let out a gasp as I moved lower, my lips trailing down her body until I reached her thighs. I could feel her trembling beneath me, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as I teased her with my tongue. I could tell she was close, her breathing becoming more erratic and her hips bucking against my mouth. I wanted to draw out her pleasure, but I couldn't resist the urge any longer. I moved back up to her lips, kissing her deeply as I entered her, feeling her walls clench around me. I could feel her nails digging into my shoulders as I moved in and out of her, the sound of our bodies colliding and her moans filling the room. I lost myself in the moment, completely consumed by the intense pleasure we were both feeling. And as we reached our climax together, I knew that this was just the beginning of a wild and passionate night. I held her close as we both caught our breath, basking in the afterglow and the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction. As we lay there, tangled in the sheets, I couldn't help but think about how much I loved making her moan and how I couldn't wait to do it all over again.

~~~~~~

A week has passed since the tragedy and Zuri seemed to calm down. I do feel sorry for his family though and I wish them all the love in the world.

The rain created a soothing symphony as it hit the window panes and roof. It was as if nature was performing just for us, providing the perfect ambiance for our intimate embrace. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time, our voices blending with the peaceful sounds of the rain. In that moment, there was no one else in the world except for the two of us. The worries and stresses of everyday life melted away as we lost ourselves in each other's arms. The room was filled with a sense of warmth and contentment, as if we were in our own little bubble, shielded from the chaos of the outside world. The rain continued to fall, but it didn't bother us. In fact, it only added to the intimacy of the moment, making it feel like we were the only two people in the world. We knew that this moment was one to be cherished, a memory that would forever be etched in our minds. We were in the bed for hours...she got on top of me and cradled my body and I wrapped my arms around her bare body. Her skin was as soft as a pillow and delicate like whipped cream.

DING DONG

"Fuck..." I said, underneath my breath. "I'm coming!"

I swiftly moved Zuri back in bed and put some clothes on. I put on a shirt, some shorts, and my slides and headed to the front door. I opened the door and was met with a banquet full of flowers. Oh...I forgot about these.

"Delivery for Mr. Duke Dennis?"

"Right here man. Thank you,"

As I stood there holding the bouquet of beautiful flowers, I couldn't help but feel a sense of panic wash over me. I had completely forgotten about the delivery that I had scheduled for today. It wasn't until I saw the delivery man standing at my door, waiting for my signature, that it hit me. I quickly signed off on the delivery and handed the man a generous tip, trying to cover up my mistake with a smile. But as soon as the door closed, my mind started racing. Should I give the flowers to her right away or should I wait until we're actually on our date? I didn't want to come off as too eager or pushy, but at the same time, I didn't want the flowers to wilt before she could enjoy them. It was a delicate balance and I couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about making the right decision. In the end, I decided to hold onto the flowers and give them to her when we were actually on our date. It would be a sweet surprise and a way to show her that I had been thinking about her. Plus, it would add a special touch to our date and make it even more memorable. As I placed the flowers in a vase, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of her reaction when she sees them. It was a small gesture, but one that I hoped would make a big impact.

The only thing was that I can't hide the flowers in my closet because that kills the flowers. I can't put them in my kitchen because she will see them. This is such bad timing. I'll just give her the flowers. I walked back into the room and sat next to her. I nudged at her trying to wake her up from her slumber. She pouted a little bit.

"What, Duke?"

"Dang! Why the attitude?"

"You woke me up..."

"But I got a surprise for you,"

"What?"

She adjusted her eyes and she gasped. I presented the roses to her and she put on the biggest smile to date. She put on one of my shirts and came to me, hugging me tightly. I could feel her warmth and her love radiating through her embrace. I held her close, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling grateful for this moment. It was a simple gesture, giving her a bouquet of roses, but it meant so much to her. She had been having a rough week, and I knew these flowers would bring a smile to her face. As she looked into my eyes, I could see the love and appreciation she had for me. I felt a surge of happiness and love wash over me, knowing that I could make her happy with such a small gesture. We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, appreciating the beauty of the moment. It was moments like these that made me realize how lucky I was to have her in my life. She was my rock, my best friend, and my soulmate. We had been through so much together, and our love only grew stronger with each passing day. I couldn't imagine my life without her by my side. As we swayed to the music playing in the background, I whispered in her ear, 'I love you more than words can express.' She smiled and whispered back, 'I love you too, always and forever.' And in that moment, I knew that no matter what life threw our way, we would always have each other's love to guide us through.

I gently touched her as my hands moved beneath her shirt, caressing her softly. I then placed my hands on her chest and leaned my head against her back. After playing for a while, I carefully placed the flowers on the love seat and helped her lay down on the bed. As I prepared her for the event, I planted tender kisses on her skin, feeling grateful for the moment we shared.

My hands traced the curves of her body, feeling every inch of her soft skin. She let out soft moans as I continued to explore her with my hands. I could feel her body responding to my touch, her breathing becoming more shallow and her skin heating up under my fingertips.

As I continued to shower her with kisses, my hands moved down her body, tracing the lines of her hips and thighs. I could feel her body arching towards me, seeking more of my touch. I couldn't resist the urge to run my hands up and down her body, feeling the heat and desire building between us. I wanted to take my time, to savor every moment of this intimate experience with her.

As I reached her waist, I gently pulled her shirt up and over her head, revealing her beautiful form to me. I couldn't help but admire her, the way her body curved in all the right places, the way her skin seemed to glow under the soft light of the room. I leaned in to kiss her again, my hands now roaming freely over her bare skin.

I could tell she was enjoying every moment, her body responding eagerly to my touch. With each kiss and caress, I could feel the passion and desire growing between us. I wanted to make her feel loved and desired, to show her just how much she meant to me. I stripped out of my clothes and positioned myself between her legs, my arousal evident as I gazed down at her. Her eyes were filled with desire and anticipation, and I couldn't wait to fulfill her every need.

I trailed my lips down her chest, taking the time to suck and nibble on her sensitive nipples, eliciting more moans from her. I could feel her body arching towards mine, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly as she begged for more.

I couldn't deny her any longer and I made my way lower, my lips trailing down her stomach and towards her core. I could smell her arousal and it drove me crazy with desire. I gently spread her legs wider and ran my tongue along her folds, causing her to gasp and squirm beneath me.

I took my time, savoring the taste of her and exploring every inch of her with my tongue. Her moans became louder and more urgent, letting me know that she was close to the edge. I intensified my movements, using my fingers to tease and pleasure her even more.

She was writhing beneath me, her body trembling with pleasure as she reached her peak. I continued to pleasure her, not wanting the moment to end just yet. I wanted to make her feel every sensation possible before we both gave in to our desires.

As she came down from her high, I kissed my way back up her body, my lips never leaving her skin. I placed myself in between her legs, ready to rock her world. I scooted her to the edge of the bed and hovered over her and inserted myself inside of her. She let out a soft moan as I slowly pushed in deeper, savoring the sensation of her tightness around me. I could feel the heat emanating from her core, and I knew she was just as eager for this moment as I was.

As I began to move in a slow and steady rhythm, I could feel her nails digging into my back, urging me on. Her soft gasps and moans filled the room, and I could tell she was losing herself in the pleasure of our intimate connection.

I leaned down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. With each thrust, I could feel her body responding to me, her hips meeting mine in a dance of desire. I could feel my own pleasure building, but I wanted to make this last as long as possible.

I reached down to gently caress her breasts, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from her. Her hands were roaming all over my body. I could feel the electricity between us, the intense chemistry that always seemed to ignite whenever we were together.

As our bodies moved faster and harder, our moans and gasps became louder, echoing off the walls. I could feel the tension building inside of me, and I knew she was close too. With a final thrust, we both reached our peak, our bodies trembling and pulsing with pleasure.

In that moment, I felt truly connected to her, both physically and emotionally. We lay there in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of our passionate encounter. I couldn't help but marvel at the way she made me feel, how every touch and every kiss sent shivers down my spine. And as we lay there, I knew that this was just the beginning of a night filled with endless pleasure and intense intimacy. I was grateful to have her in my life, to share these moments of pure ecstasy with her.

#duke dennis #romance #love #18+ content #romantic #smut

[thechargrey]

In real talk though this shot is so beautiful it makes me want to cry.

And I know I'm not alone in that. Usually when we see emotions on screen it's in a close up, which envokes a sence of intimacy with the character. We might even experience their emotions directly with them.

But extreme long shots like this envoke something else. The distance gives us a sense of isolation from the characters, which is deeply unsettling to us as people, as social creatures, especially when someone is experiencing strong emotions.

It's the same feeling as when you've broken up with someone you still love and then something tragic happens in their life. You're not allowed to be able to comfort them. Or the feeling when you stumble upon a funeral and have to watch the grief from a distance.

We're not made to watch strong emotions from afar, we're made to live in them with the people that make up our life.

So in this shot we can feel the distance between ourselves and the main characters. We're not allowed to feel their emotions with them and that creates an uncomfortable barrier. But the distance between Crowley and Aziraphale parallels the distance we already felt away from them. And gives us the sense that in this scene at least, they don't know how to help each other through this tragedy. They don't know how to be with each other.

And so we feel the distance twice.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #good omens season 2

[ereana]

Neuvifuri - You know we aren’t meant to be

Justice seeks to ensure that all individuals are treated fairly and impartially under the law. Laws were plentiful in Teyvat, spanning from the laws of nature that governed the physical world to the laws of humans which ensured that civilisations did not descend into anarchy.

Then there were the laws of Celestia which wrapped around souls, divine or mortal it made no difference, like thorny vines. Painful to touch, constantly felt, with the ever looming threat of terrible punishment should someone dare to try and free themselves. Celstia’s laws reigned over all others matched only by the savage chaos of the abyss.

Powerful but not infallible. Furina’s grand performance had been able to fool even the heavens themselves; days passed and yet Fontaine continued to go on, her people now safe from the cruel fate that had awaited them. The laws of Celestia were not absolute and be it either through loopholes or trickery those deadly vines could be dealt with.

Or perhaps, Furina thinks with a wry smile, it is simply something unique to her that allows her to slip loose from the metaphorical rope around her neck. A certain stubbornness to challenge the tyrannical will of fate that would leave her miserable on a throne weeping for everything she has lost. If she possesses one exceptional quality as a mere human it is her willpower, her strength to rise every morning for five hundred years and deceive everyone.

So when she dares to rise up against the order of things once more she is prepared to do whatever it takes to triumph once more.

Humans are not supposed to love dragons.

Dragons are incapable of loving humans.

Two beings that should never tie themselves together with the corrupting thread of intimacy and affection. The differences in lifespan, in power, in mutual understanding are only a few of the reasons why such a union would be abhorrent. Celestia would curse any who dared even align themselves with their ancient foes let alone love one.

The relationship would be doomed from the start; a tragedy that all the actors know the ending of. Pain. Death. Heartbreak. A tale that would taste like ashes in the mouth of even the most talented bard.

Furina doesn’t care.

The morning sun has only started to sneak under the curtain of her bedroom window, inching its way across the floor to her bed. Her normal-sized single bed which, while perfectly fine for her to collapse onto at the end of the day, is in no way big enough for her beloved companion snuggled up against her.

She has been surprised to learn that Neuvillette was a cuddler in his sleep before it quickly melted into the delight of being so lovingly held by her — always hers she knew that now — dear Iudex. 

Furina runs a delicate finger over the arm around her waist, tracing the scales that run in beautiful patterns all the way to his finger tips. She can feel the light pressure of claws against her nightdress, not enough to hurt — he never would, never again — keeping her close and safe. Neuvillette only ever lets his draconic features slip through when he’s with her; claws, scales, fangs the marks of his birthright that should unnerve her instead pulling her further into his orbit. Only she gets to see him like this.

It was never meant to be like this.

Furina was supposed to have disappeared after her trial, blended into the populace of the nation she had ruled for five hundred years as another citizen. Another of his subjects to care for but nothing more than that. She should have stepped back from the spotlight like any good actor would.

But she’s always been a little selfish with Neuvillette. He’d been her partner, the closest thing she had to a friend, and she had clung to him with all the strength in her feeble human body. Late night conversations, outings, the quiet coziness of their private aquabus, moments she’d hoarded greedily over the centuries in some vain attempt to feel less lonely under the crushing weight of her duty.

Furina tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. He looks so peaceful like this. The sternness of his features is softened in sleep as though the stress of the waking world has melted away. As she strokes her thumb along his jaw he lets out a pleased rumble, that’s definitely not a purr as he’s told her many times, and somehow pulls her even closer.

She feels so small in his arms, he could snap her in half without breaking a sweat but Furina only feels protected in the embrace. It’s as though he’s trying to keep her safe from the rest of the world. Maybe he feels like he needs to.

After all, the two of them were never meant to be anything more than Sovereign and Usurper, at least according to the laws of this world.

Not meant to be.

It’s a sin to love him but she does, with all her being.

He shouldn’t love her but he gave her his heart, placing it into her care for her to destroy him if she’d been so inclined. Everything has changed but also nothing has because she is still his lady and he is still her dragon.

Furina smiles as Neuvillette yawns, sharp fangs flashing in the dull light of her room. He blinks sleepily at her. It’s unfairly adorable. He reaches up to take her hand in his own and presses it to his lips, looking at her with a devotion that once would have shaken her to her core.

“Good morning, my lady.”

Furina giggles and leans in to give him a proper kiss.

Not meant to be, but no sin has ever tasted so sweet.

#genshin impact #neuvifuri #neuvillette #furina #my writing