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luvwestwood · 11 months ago

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"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru

4,120 words.

warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt

notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3

banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig

You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.

To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.

You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.

Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party.

Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.

She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..

You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."

"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.

You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.

It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."

You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.

As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.

The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.

Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.

You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”

She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”

You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..

A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.

The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.

You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him.

He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"

Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"

You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."

Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.

You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.

It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.

The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time.

"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"

It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.

The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.

You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.

"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."

You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."

"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.

Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.

You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.

"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.

"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.

"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.

"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."

"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."

He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”

Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.

”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”

He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.

As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.

By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"

"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."

You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.

”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”

You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.

For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something. Is he… reaching for a..

He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.

”You smoke?”

You looked at him. “What do you think?”

”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.

He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”

”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.

”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.

You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”

You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.

He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”

Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”

Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”

He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.

”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”

You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.

”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”

��Okay, what now.”

”Do it, take a hit.”

You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.

”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.

You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.

”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”

The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.

“Good girl, see? No coughing.”

You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.

”..How’d I know if it hit me?”

He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”

All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.

You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.

Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.

”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”

You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again.

Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?”

Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”

”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”

You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”

”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”

“Okay, why not.”

“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”

You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”

”Aww, it was worth a shot.”

“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.

”You ever had a boyfriend?”

”Once. But I was like sixteen.”

Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”

“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”

He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”

Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”

He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”

You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”

”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.

It was your turn to ask question again.

”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”

”Dunno. Why’d you think?”

Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong.

You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.

”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”

His next question came out immediately.

“..Wanna see for yourself?”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.

”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”

Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser.

You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.

A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.

You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.

Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.

”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.

His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”

A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?

You gently crawled over across the bed, closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.

He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.

You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved.

The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.

He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.

You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.

Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.

His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?” Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.

You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.

It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.

He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.

The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.

You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.

Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.

Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.

”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”

He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.

You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”

You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.

Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”

Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.

”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.

He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.

”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.

”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.

You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

”Heyyy, you there?”

You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.

”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.

You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.

Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.

Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.

He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.

”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.

You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.

“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.

As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet. Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.

The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.

“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.

He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.

“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.

No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.

The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.

It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”

You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.

Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.

“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.

The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”

You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.

And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto suguru #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu geto #jjk geto #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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siythn · 4 months ago

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˚◞ HAIRCARE! - SUGURU GETO

SYNPOSIS. with geto being your boyfriend, a morning routine was established. but some say sitting between his thighs as he does your hair; fingers running through strands, removing knots, and stying might be unusual. but to you, it was everything.

WARNINGS! tooth-rotting fluff

WC; 1.05K

THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING SUN filtered through the white curtains, casting a warm glow throughout the shared room. You sat cross-legged on the floor, a small, circled-shaped mirror propped up before you.

Your eyes weren't on your reflection though. Rather, they were closed, too focused on enjoying the sensation of Geto running his fingers through your hair, gently untangling the strands than to bother checking your morning face.

He sat behind you, legs laying on either side of your frame, thighs dangerously close to your face. Your boyfriend's presence brought a comforting weight as you rested your cheek against his upper leg.

You felt a slight tug as he pulled the brush through a particularly stubborn knot, but it was more reassuring than painful.

Honestly, Geto had always been careful with your hair as if it was alive. He always took his time, making sure each stroke was slow and deliberate, muttering sorry under his breath if he tanked on a strand a bit too hard.

It was adorable to see the black-haired male so engaged in a messily task you asked him to one random Tuesday morning that soon became an everyday routine. Even on days, you protested that it was fine—you found yourself in the same position from the day before, getting ready with all the supplies needed seated beside him.

The cherry on top had to have been when you walked in on him practicing hairstyles that you mentioned you liked. Your boyfriend never found out, and you brushed it off as a mere coincidence since he also had a length to his hair.

You had to stop yourself from geeking when the same hairstyle was on your hair two days later.

The scent of his shampoo filled the space between you, a mix of something herbal and earthy. It was familiar to you, seeing as you stole it and used it for yourself a couple more times you would like to admit.

Hearing the soft rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly, adjusting his position for better access. His fingers were nimble and practiced, and you couldn't help the admiration at how effortlessly he managed your hair, a task that always seemed to take you ages.

"You've got a lot of patience for this," you remarked, your voice soft in the morning quiet with faint blinking eyes; sneakily peering at him through the mirror.

He chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating through the room to you. "Well, someone has to keep your hair in check."

You laughed the sound blending with the peaceful atmosphere. "Hey, I try my best."

"I know you do," he said, his tone gentle. "But sometimes you need a bit of help."

He didn't speak much more, and neither did you. The silence was comfortable, punctuated only by the occasional hum of approval from him when a particularly tricky tangle came free. You felt the coolness of his rings against your scalp, a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands.

As Geto worked, you let your mind drift; eyes shutting once more, focusing on the rhythmic pattern of his movements. He sectioned your hair, clipping some of it up to keep it out of the way. You could feel the slight pressure of the plastic clips, holding everything in place.

"You always take your time with this," you mused, feeling the brush glide through the length of your hair, each pass smoothing out the strands.

"I like taking care of you," he replied simply, his voice low and sincere.

Feeling your body warm at your boyfriend's words, you slightly straighten up, cheek moved up from his thigh to sit at the front. Geto not bothered by the sudden movement switched to a finer comb for the finishing touches, feeling the difference between the bristles.

"Any plans for today?" you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Not really," he said, his fingers deftly weaving your hair once more. "I was thinking we could just relax. Maybe watch a movie later."

"That sounds nice," you agreed, smiling at the thought.

When the male finally finished, he gathered your hair in his hands, twisting it into a loose braid. His fingers worked quickly, securing the end with a hair tie that was on his wrist. You opened your eyes and looked in the mirror, admiring his handiwork. The braid was neat and tight, but not too tight, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he looked at it.

"You did a great job, Sugu," you said, turning slightly to face him.

"Glad you like it," he replied, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

Geto leaned forward, resting his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your ear. You could see his reflection in the mirror, his dark eyes soft, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your forehead, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter.

"Thanks," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need to respond; the gentle squeeze of his hand on your shoulder said it all. The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, savoring the moment of the morning, the quiet connection between you.

"Want some breakfast?" he asked after a while, his arms had now found their way across your body; secured in his hold.

"Sure," you replied, leaning back into him. "What are you in the mood for?"

"How about pancakes?" Geto suggested, head resting between the crook of your neck, making you squirm in response with sensitivity. You could feel his lips curl to a smirk. "I can whip up a batch pretty quickly."

"Pancakes sound perfect," you agreed with a laugh, playfully taking his face and gently shoving it away from you as if to hide your neck from him.

He grinned and, with a swift motion, scooped you up into his arms. You squealed in surprise, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"Suguru—put me down!" you laughed, but there was no real protest in your voice as you "tried" to escape.

He carried you effortlessly toward the kitchen, his steps steady and sure. "Nope. You wanted pancakes, and I'm delivering you straight to them."

You giggled, leaning your head against his shoulder as he carried you through the house in defeat.

Maybe you didn't mind this being an everyday routine.

all interactions are appreciated!! love you all lots, take care of yourself ༯

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essycogany · 4 months ago

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Here’s a personal take!

The Sonic Prime 3D models have the best facial expressions seen from the modern cast. Why? Well, I’ll explain with my 0 experience in 3D animation. I’m only explaining as an observer. Not a professional. Anyways, onto the fun.

First of all, let’s talk about the current models in the games. The animators became better at animating them in Sonic Frontiers.

You can tell effort was being put in, but Frontiers still has limits due to the structure of Sonic’s face and eyes. I’ve seen fan animations with this model which animates him wonderfully. But no matter what, he’s still going to have limitations because his hands are too big, eyes are too far apart, mouth looks like it was made to only stay on the side, and more issues. The design frankly looks dead. Even in motion.

In all fairness, this character was built for a 2D design due to it being inspired by Mickey Mouse. But Sonic Unleashed (because they used different models like Dream Team) proves this character CAN be expressive in 3D with a good workable model. It’s not the animation that’s the problem in Frontiers. Here are similar expressions from Sonic Prime and Frontiers.

See how wider the expressions are in Prime? It allows their faces to be more flexible and warped. Prime!Sonic has rounder eyes making his head look easier for his facial structure to have an array of expressions. It’s kind of close to Sonic Dream Team with the minor tweaks of the OG models. Which is why the expressions in that game looked so good. ESPECIALLY when animated.

It’s even why other designs are able to have great facial expressions. The eyes being close together just works. While the OG looks like he’s pushing expressions that’s near impossible to push. Yes, it’s still expressive, but you can see how limiting it is because the eyes aren’t supporting the face. And his mouth is always stuck to one side.

Onto more compliments to the Sonic Prime models. They emphasize the hight differences too. I personally think Sonic and Shadow look like mixtures between their 06, modern, Boom, and movie designs. They have long quills like 06. Their entire look is inspired by the modern designs. Their eyes are shaped similar to Sonic Boom and they have cool textures like in the movies. Other characters count but it most notably is for the two hedgehogs.

The hands are smaller like in the movies and Boom. The pupils being bigger gives volume to the faces. I also adore their fur and quill patterns to give the designs flare. Their gloves have little details too. I especially love how they can change the quills for Sonic and Shadow and make them look similar to a 2D style. Usually they’d make the quills smaller in the games to get that 2D look but Prime Shadow and Sonic are able to have long quills while the animators adjust them however and whenever they need to.

Their mouths are also well animated and smooth when transitioning to different sides of the face. The characters body shapes are also 100% better. While the Game model looks too straight the Prime model has a pear shape torso that are also given to Boom and Movie Sonic respectively. The Prime models look like they were made for action scenes.

I know some people complain about the eyes not going down, but honestly it’s what makes the expressions weaker when used in 3D. I’m glad they have a balance of it sometimes to allow the expressions to get their points across. I really appreciate the colors on everyone also. They look lovely and bright with help of the lighting.

The few critiques I have are due to multiple watches but they’re not a HUGE deal.

1. I can easily see their necks at points.

2. The mouth animation looks weird when characters makes an O shape and the tongues/teeth are jarring.

3. I wish their hands weren’t so flat and skinny. Other models had their hands shaped like Disney characters, but Prime’s hands can look flat sometimes.

These are just nitpicks though.

Even compared to the CGI cutscenes while still good I think Prime conveys a subtly previous models didn’t do too often. Of course the CGI looks amazing and it still holds up, but the nuance in Sonic Prime cannot be ignored. Hope my take makes the slightest of sense.

Stay Creative! 💜

223 notes · View notes

casuallyimagining · 8 months ago

Text

Selfish. || myg.

Less of Them - Two: Selfish.

NSFW. minors dni

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, established relationship, star-crossed lovers, angst, smut, fluff Word Count: 5,461

Summary: As the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

Warnings: implied domestic abuse, controlling behavior, depression, arguing, a slap, blood, discovery of a dead body, murder

Notes: thank you to @oddinary4bts for beta-ing this

"I do know there are all kinds of barriers to love. I do believe the world needs less of them." - Lang Leav

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There’s a bustle in the castle that hasn’t been here for a year. It’s like the very stone–polished, whitewashed, ancient–is vibrating with excitement. After all, a royal wedding is an exciting time, and everyone must play their part. The cherry trees, hundreds of them across the property of the castle and in the castle town, are close to blossom. The merchants are busy building and sewing and crafting and baking. The stewards and keepers have cleaned the castle walls inside and out more times than can be counted.

You cannot find it in yourself to match their enthusiasm.

You stand on a pedestal facing a floor-length mirror, a seamstress on either side of you. They haven’t stopped touching you since they’d walked into the room. Slipping garments onto your body. Primping and adjusting the fabric so it lays just right. Measuring, pinning, tucking, tacking. The silk is heavy, like lead on your limbs, and they just keep layering it on. All of it is an elegant cream color–not white, despite tradition. Daniel had instructed the royal seamstresses. It was because of him, after all. White is too pure, too untouched.

Maybe, under different circumstances, worn by someone else, you would find the gown pretty. The silken fabric is soft and luxurious, a delicate floral pattern embroidered into the sleeves. The skirt is plain, but it flows well, and it’s a slightly richer color than the rest. There’s a small loop at the waist where a luck ornament will be attached. You haven’t seen it yet–the queen mother hasn’t yet presented it to you–but the handmaids have told you that it’s meant to bring many sons.

But honestly, you’ve avoided looking–really looking–at any of it, your focus solely on the leather toe of your shoe sticking out from under the fabric of your dress. You were never too mesmerized by your reflection, but now… It’s hard to reconcile what you see with what used to be there. Your hair is longer. You’ve lost weight. A bruise peeks out from under the collar of your dress. There’s a hollowness in your eyes, and worse, there’s a hollowness somewhere deeper. A meekness that you don’t recognize, but that’s been gnawing at the edges of you for nearly a year now.

You don’t recognize yourself. You don’t want to recognize yourself.

“Have you seen him yet?” You hear one of the handmaidens ask as the seamstresses pin the fabric at your sleeve.

The other handmaiden groans softly. “I’ve been stuck inside all day. Kagha asked me to shine the silver.” Kagha is the stewardess of the castle, and she’s been running around like a crazy person of late trying to prepare for the wedding.

The first handmaiden leans closer to the other. You’ve seen her around, but you have no idea what her name is. “He’s gorgeous,” she whispers, so quiet you almost can’t hear.

“Shame he’s from the forest,” the second handmaiden laments, standing. Her arms are full of linen.

You hum. It’s been a long year. A lonely year. You’ve learned a lot, and you know you’ve done a lot of growing to meet the needs of the position you find yourself in. But that doesn’t mean that the path hadn’t been lonely. And you’d finally managed to convince Daniel to allow you to send a letter to your father, asking him to send you someone to serve in the castle.

Based on the handmaidens’ reactions, he’s sent Seokjin.

It makes sense. Out of anyone your father could have sent, Seokjin is the most likely to fit in at the castle and in Castle Town. He’s charming and smart, and knows how to hold himself at court. And, more than anyone, Seokjin knows–or assumes–how careful one must be in this life, too.

There’s an excitement bubbling in you that you haven’t felt in a while. Your step-brother. Here. Finally, a friend. You leave the seamstresses when they’re finished, an almost giddy bounce to your step. It leads you all the way to the King’s Council Chamber–if Seokjin is here, that’s where he’ll be. Daniel may not have greeted you on your arrival to the Ironhold, but he would certainly not risk snubbing the eldest son of one of the old families.

You stand outside of the council chamber, suddenly unsure. The excitement has faded, replaced with the roiling unease that comes with being anywhere near this room. You should wait. As excited as you may be to see Seokjin, you don’t want to risk Daniel’s ire at your interruption. So you stand there, outside the door, far enough away so that you aren’t in anyone’s way.

After a moment, you can feel your heartbeat start to pound in your ears. Maybe waiting is a mistake. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can make it back to your chambers. Maybe you can wait there. You nod to yourself. That’s a better idea. You’ll wait for them to come to you.

You’ve just turned to go when the door opens, the hinges creaking lowly with the motion. You can hear Daniel’s voice, but it’s Eden, Daniel’s younger brother, who walks out first. His eyes widen when he sees you standing there, half fleeing, and you can hear him make a little noise of surprise. It doesn’t last long, though, because as soon as Daniel spots you, Eden’s face schools into something neutral.

Daniel stops mid-word to question you. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” Your words stick in your throat. You shouldn’t be here, but you’re frozen in place. And then, just when you think things can’t get worse, a dark head of hair and curious, feline eyes poke out from around Daniel’s form.

You freeze, hoping the ground will open up and swallow you whole. You feel yourself wilt, and suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of how you’re standing, how awkward your arms feel at your side, how rigid your spine feels. It’s not Seokjin. You could never be that lucky.

Daniel stalks toward you and roughly grabs your upper arm. His fingers dig in, pressing into your flesh. You wince ever so slightly–it hurts, the bruise already there is an angry deep purple–but quickly, you school your face into something more pleasant.

“We’ve talked about this,” Daniel says. His voice is even, but you can hear the undertones.

You should not be here.

You’re embarrassing me. Again.

We will discuss this again later.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out softer than you’d like, and you wonder if he can hear the slight tremble, or if it’s just you. “I… I thought it was Seokjin and I…” You trail off, eyes falling to the stone floor.

The king jerks you closer, grip like a vise on your upper arm. “You what?”

“I got excited.”

He hums. “I see.”

Off to your left, Eden clears his throat. “Brother. You have a meeting with Mother and the High Priest in the garden soon. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

Daniel nods and squeezes your arm. “We’ll discuss this later.”

The brothers leave, and suddenly, the hall is quiet. The few guards that had been milling around follow Daniel and Eden out. You clear your throat, unable to meet the dark eyes that watch you curiously. He’s never been to the Crownlands, and your brain latches onto an idea.

This doesn’t have to be awkward.

“Have you seen the grounds?” you question finally, shifting your weight.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Would you like to?”

You can feel him looking at you, can feel the questions hanging in the air. Thankfully–and surprisingly–he says nothing, simply motions for you to lead the way.

“The castle was built nearly 800 years ago by the Choi family. Because of tensions at the time between the royal family and the rest of the old families, the Ironhold was built to be nearly impregnable, with oil chutes built into every staircase and balistraria in every exterior wall.” You gesture to one of the arrow slits in the wall, where the sunlight from the mid-spring sun peeks through the thick stone. You know that he knows all this–he sat through almost as many of your father’s history lessons as you did–but it helps to keep talking.

And to his credit, Yoongi listens patiently. He follows dutifully at your side, pausing to look at things you point out and nodding along where appropriate. You can’t show him everything–that would almost be impossible as the castle grounds are so large. But you walk him through parts of the gardens (“There are over 1,000 cherry trees on the castle grounds.”), and show him the fish ponds (“The fish have been imported from the Eastern Coastlands. Some of the koi are descendants of the original fish brought in when the ponds were built 300 years ago!”). You walk past the Queen Mother’s private residence in the southern part of the castle grounds and show him the knight’s barracks and the training grounds.

All of the buildings on the castle grounds look the same. It had taken you a few months to actually learn where everything was and what each building housed. Tall, sloping, whitewashed walls, deep blue tile roofs, sharp corners and rectangular windows. A far cry from the curved staircases and round windows and dark woods of Castle Blackwood.

Re-entering the castle proper, you show him the Grand Hall, where important dinners are held, and the king’s dining room. And finally, finally, you end the tour of the castle grounds on the second floor of the western tower where your chambers–and the chambers of personal guards and hand servants–are. You’ve known for a while that there was a room designated for your own personal guard, so you end up in front of that door.

“This is yours,” you tell him, gesturing to the door. It’s not as thick or as dark as the ones back at Castle Blackwood, but you grew accustomed to those small differences long ago.

He stands there, his hand on the brass doorknob, gaze soft as he takes you in. You can see his eyes dart briefly to where the bruise peeks out from under your collar and feel yourself shrink away. You don’t want to know what he sees when he looks at you.

“Come in.” His voice is gentle, almost as if he’s speaking to a wounded animal. “Let’s catch up.”

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It’ll make it harder to move forward–to move on. But then he says, “Please,” and you’ve never been able to resist the softness of his eyes. So you let him lead you into his chambers and shut the door.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you in a dress,” he says quietly. He stands in front of you, a little awkward. He keeps rubbing his hands together, patting down his trousers. It’s little comfort to know that he’s just as nervous as you are.

“Why are you here, Yoongi?” You don’t mean to snap, but it just kind of happens. You aren’t sure what this means–what it means for him, let alone what it means for you. There’s a pit in your stomach that feels almost like you swallowed a rock, and you do your best to steady yourself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why are you here? Why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t it have been Seokjin, or Namjoon, or any- anyone else?”

He reaches into his doublet and pulls out a folded piece of parchment. It’s a little crumpled, the edges a little worn, like it’s been read many times. You catch a glimpse of a forest green wax seal still clinging to the top edge, and immediately you know what it is.

“Maybe we’re both a little selfish.” The way he says it, you can feel your heart sink.

Of course you know what the letter says. It haunts you, but at the time, you thought you were doing the right thing. You still do.

I hope that, in time, you can move on. That eventually, you will find yourself in love. That you will find happiness again. It’s selfish, but I will only be able to live through this with the hope that you are happy and living a life that is worthy of the care you’ve shown me.

Find someone who loves you as much as I do. For my sake, if nothing else.

You want him to be able to move on and live his life. You want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy. And you would sacrifice your own happiness a hundred times over if it meant he could have the life he deserves.

Yoongi reaches out, and your heart races. You tense, an automatic reaction, and his hand pauses mere centimeters from your cheek. A look of confusion crosses his dark eyes that quickly morphs to understanding and then sadness. His hand falls back to his side.

“How did you get that bruise?” His voice is casual, but you know him, can practically see the cogs turning in his mind.

You tug the collar of your gown so that it covers better. “I tripped.”

“And bruised your shoulder?”

“I’m still getting used to the gowns.”

He hums. You know he knows you’re lying. But you aren’t sure how much you want to allow him back in yet. You aren’t sure how much you want to drag him down with you.

He sighs, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he looks at the letter that’s still in his hands. “I tried,” he says softly. “For the first few months, I thought that if I could just convince myself that I was mad at you, it would be easier. I tried so hard to hate you, to blame you for leaving, make it your fault.” He looks up at you, then, and you can see a shine to his eyes. He reaches out again, but this time, the tips of his fingers brush against your hand. “But I couldn’t. It’s not fair, but it’s even less fair for you. And I want to be here. I know it won’t be easy, but I want to be here with you. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

Your eyes sting, and there’s a lump in your throat that you can’t quite swallow down.

Hours later, you’re alone in your chambers. Dusk has fallen, the handmaidens have already been through to light the few candles on the tray near your bed. You sit on the chaise under the open window, a gentle spring breeze lightly caressing your skin. Silently, you stare down at the wooden box in your hands.

It’s dusty. You haven’t touched it since placing it on the shelf when you’d first arrived in the Ironhold. You can see the fingerprints from how you’ve held it over the past half-hour. Gently, you wipe the dust from the gilded leaves of the thistle and press them in. A soft ‘click’ echoes through the inside of the box.

You take the contents out carefully. Sketches from one of the artists in the Forest Town–one of you, your father, your step-mother, and Namjoon and Seokjin; the other of you and Yoongi. You look much younger here, even though the drawings were only done a few years ago. It feels like an eternity. The real reason you’d pulled the box off the shelf, though, is still in your hand, wrapped delicately in a piece of cloth you’d ripped from a pair of your trousers.

Once it’s unwrapped, you hold it between your thumb and your forefinger and inspect it in the low light.

Part of you feels guilty that this is the first time you’ve looked at it in almost a year, that you can’t wear it, even on a chain around your neck, or at the very least that you can’t display it in some way. You shouldn’t have accepted it. But there’s no way you could have known it would have spent a year hidden away in a secret compartment in a wooden box, wrapped in the fabric of the trousers you can no longer wear.

You suppose there are things about the world your father couldn’t have thought to teach you.

He couldn’t have prepared you for everything you’ve learned here. How to break yourself down, brick by brick, and rebuild from the ground up. How to change how you talk, how you think. To change your personality to be more likable, less loud, less prominent. To change how you walk, how you stand, how you take up space. A good queen knows when to enhance her king’s spotlight, but also how to fade into the background. She’s firm but quiet. She defers to her husband’s opinions, she doesn’t shape them. And certainly, she knows naught of how the king’s court functions.

He could never have taught you that there’s a special kind of loneliness reserved only for future queens, when you arrive in a new city and no one knows you and no one likes you and no one wants to know or like you. You’ll just be another fixture in the Crownlands, a figurehead with no power, a vessel with no thoughts. There for one thing–maybe two, if you’re lucky–and ignored the rest of the time.

You miss home, miss having things to fill your time with. You miss the activity of Blackwood Castle–there was always something going on, even if it was something minor. Now, you feel as though you spend most of your time daintily draping yourself across chaises and windowsills, watching the world pass you by. You’d tried to go to the library once and were barred entry (“The queen has no need for such knowledge!”). You’d been banned from the council chambers (“How dare you embarrass your king in front of the Eastern traders!”). You couldn’t watch the knights spar, couldn’t sit by as the dog trainers did their work, couldn’t stroll the streets of the Castle Town.

The sound of guard boots in the hall draw your attention, and you jump, hurriedly re-wrapping the ring in cloth and slotting it and the two drawings back into the secret compartment in the box. You press the thistle flower and manage to wipe the rest of the dust off the front just as the door to your chamber opens.

Daniel stands there, the Realm’s unshakeable king, smelling of wine and grinning like the dog that caught the hare. He doesn’t say anything, merely shuts the door behind him and yanks the bolt in place to lock it. You embrace him as he approaches, allowing him to push you back onto the bed.

After he leaves, you stare at the ceiling and hope that someday soon, you’ll start to feel less hollow again.

It takes mere days for Yoongi to fully integrate into life in the Ironhold. Or, perhaps, integrate is the wrong word. It takes mere days for him to disappear. Once it’s clear he’s there to stay, he’s no longer a novelty, overshadowed by the wedding looming over the next couple days. He goes with you to dress fittings, sits behind you out of the way when you meet with the clergy. He even accompanies you to meet with the Queen Mother. You’re shocked that she allows him to stand in on your conversation, but if you’re honest with yourself, you’re a little glad she does.

“My knights followed me everywhere over the years,” she says casually, pouring herself a cup of tea. “I expect you’d want yours to do the same, forest bumpkin though he is.”

The Queen Mother sits at a small table near the window. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything, simply stares out at the garden as if she’s inspecting the very plants for quality of growth. It’s uncanny how much her sons have inherited from her. Daniel has the same intense, calculating gaze, and both he and Eden have her high cheekbones and downturned lips. They’ve all got the same dark, glossy hair and downturned eyes.

You stand there, waiting for her to address you again. It’s awkward, but you dare not move. You can feel Yoongi’s presence behind you–he’s been quiet all morning, but you can tell that he has thoughts about life in the castle. You ignore him. Instead, you focus your attention on the table in front of you and the Queen Mother’s cup of tea.

Finally, the Queen Mother brings her attention back in your direction, leveling a gaze at you that reminds you just how scrutinized you’ve been since you arrived at the Ironhold nearly a year ago. She studies you for a moment before raising her teacup to her lips. “I suppose you’re expecting me to give you the norigae for tomorrow’s ceremony.”

That had been why you thought she’d called this meeting. The seamstresses who’d been working on your gown said the Queen Mother would give you a lucky decoration. They’d said it was a big honor, that it was tradition. Now, you’re unsure. Still, though, you nod quietly.

The Queen Mother hums. Her gaze burns into you, and when you fidget where you stand, she frowns. “Danny has said that your dress is to be cream.”

“It’s pretty.”

“It’s not white.” Her tone is as sharp as her glare. It’s an accusation.

You swallow. “I do as my king asks.”

“The traditional norigae has been passed down for generations in the Choi family,” the Queen Mother says. She does not look at you, merely glares down at her tea cup. “It’s supposed to bring great luck to the marriage and many sons. It’s meant to be given to a king’s bride to both welcome her into the Choi family and celebrate the pure gift she brings with her.”

It scares you a little, how she says it. It almost sounds like a threat, though you aren’t quite sure what she’s threatening you with. What you do know, though, is that you probably should be scared of whatever it is.

“Do you think you deserve that?” she questions.

“I…”

You aren’t sure what to say. You aren’t sure there’s anything you can say. You’ve willingly allowed Daniel into your bed when he’s come calling. He’s the king and the man you are to marry. This is your life now.

Her question lingers as you wrack your brain for something–anything–to say. Thankfully, she puts you out of your misery.

“I suppose I must. Tradition is tradition, after all.” She sighs. “I will give it to the dressmakers tomorrow before the ceremony.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“You may go.” There is no room for argument.

The trek back through the gardens and to your chambers is silent. Yoongi is quiet as he follows you, the only signs that he’s there are his shadow following yours and his footsteps echoing off the stone floors of the castle. He shuts the door behind you as you enter your room, sliding the steel bolt into place to lock it.

“That’s not necessary,” you tell him, collapsing onto the chaise at the foot of your bed. You’re exhausted, and there’s something heavy growing in your chest. “You can return to your own chambers. I’ll call for you if I need anything.”

He doesn’t move, and when you look up at him, you can see the conflict in his eyes. After a moment, he seems to decide on something, because he takes a cautious step forward.

“You know you don’t have to put up with any of this.”

“What?” You have no idea what he’s talking about.

“We could run away.” He’s closer now, kneeling in front of you. Carefully, he takes your hand, holding it as though it were glass.

You shake your head. “You know that’s not possible.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand, dark eyes pleading. “We could go somewhere far away. Somewhere they couldn’t find you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“You’re exactly who I’m worried about.” His tone is firm. “This place is poison, it’s… it’s-”

“It’s fine, Yoongi.” His touch is electric on your skin, and you jerk your hand away, burned by his proximity. “This is my duty. This is my life.”

“It’s not fine!” He stands, clearly frustrated. “You don’t deserve how these assholes treat you. No one does. The Westerlands can deal with whatever comes from-”

“Loyalty does not yield.”

“Fuck that! Have some sense!”

“Get out.” You say it as loud as you dare, not wanting to draw the guards but desperate, so, so desperate, for him to leave. When he doesn’t move, you pick up the closest thing to you—a soft-bound journal—and throw it at him. The book hits him in the chest with a dull thud and plops to the ground.

A pillow follows. Then another. A blanket. Your hair brush. Anything you can get your hands on, you hurl in his direction. If he would just leave and let you rest. You’re exhausted. Dear God, why won’t he leave? Eventually, you’re out of ammunition, everything else around you being too heavy or too large to throw with any sort of accuracy. Yoongi, to his credit, has stayed stock-still throughout the ordeal, unflinching despite the onslaught.

You stalk over to him, blood pressure rising. There’s a headache stirring behind your eyes. The pit grows inside of you. “Go. Now.”

“No.” He says it so calmly.

“Stubborn fool. I will send you home.”

“Listen to yourself,” he pleads. “This isn’t you, you don’t-”

Your palm stings.

Why does your palm sting?

You look down, confused, and see your skin a shade of angry red. Movement in front of you draws your attention. For the first time since you’d thrown the journal, Yoongi moves. His hand comes up to cup his cheek; your gaze follows his arm as it moves. There, hidden by his hand, his skin begins to blossom pink.

It’s like you’re sucked out of your body. You can see yourself standing there, cradling your stinging hand, staring in bewilderment at the red that blooms across his skin. A silent moment passes. But then you feel something, deep within you. At first, it’s nothing more than a tremor, a slight tremble within you, but then it builds. Your heart races. Whatever was left of you—whatever you’d been able to claw and cobble together over the last year—implodes. You can feel it shatter within you, a thousand times more powerful than the initial destruction. And with it, you crumble.

Yoongi approaches you cautiously, like he’s coming up on a wounded animal. “What can I do?” he asks, his voice soft, kind. “Tell me how I can help.”

“Leave,” you beg.

You regret it. You regret contacting your father. You regret asking him to send someone. Why you thought having any of them here would be helpful–or why you’d never considered it would be him–you’ll never know. You can survive here–you were surviving here. But at what cost?

It hits you hard, blindsiding you like a sudden storm. The truth is, you’re scared. What if the old you–the you he fell in love with… What if she’s gone? What if she can’t come back? What if she died the day you climbed into that carriage, replaced by this hollow husk of a person you are now?

You suppose it doesn’t matter. You’re here. Yoongi is here. Tomorrow, you will marry Daniel. And from there, you will take things as you have. One day at a time.

Eventually, you manage to pull yourself together. Your face still feels stiff and puffy, but you refuse to remove the cloth you’ve draped over the mirror, so you don’t know if it really is. You’ve got a headache–all the pressure behind your eyes and in your cheeks is enough to make you feel like your head is splitting open. Part of you just wants to go to sleep. But it’s barely mid-afternoon, and you aren’t entirely sure what you’re supposed to be doing.

The wedding is tomorrow, but you’ve gotten almost no direction from anyone on what should be happening. You suspect that something should be happening, but you have no idea what it could possibly be. As a child, you spent more time climbing trees and tormenting Namjoon with Yoongi than dreaming of your wedding, but even still. This feels like a business transaction.

A knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts, and it takes a moment for you to gather yourself. Your mind is a little hazy as you slide the bolt unlocked and open the door, but when you see Eden standing there, you force yourself to come to your senses. The prince bows slightly with his head, inclining it forward ever so slightly. It’s respectful, but only so much–he’s still the one with royal blood.

“How are you holding up?” he asks, stepping into the room. You haven’t really invited him in, but you step aside anyway and close the door behind him. “I heard that mother may have accosted you over the norigae this morning.”

“She was within her right,” you tell him softly.

Eden hums. “Still. You’re to be part of this family. Mother is just disappointed that she won’t be the most important woman in Daniel’s life anymore.”

“I don’t think that’s remotely true.”

He snorts, a wry smile on his lips. In the year you’ve been at the Ironhold, Eden has become your favorite person here. You don’t particularly trust him, but of everyone that lives in the Crownlands, he seems the most normal.

Casually, Eden wanders over to a window, looking out over the courtyard several levels below. “It is my hope that things will get easier for you in time.”

From where you’re sitting, that seems almost impossible. But you don’t want to quash his optimism. So you smile politely and nod.

“I brought you something,�� Eden tells you, and the way he says it, it sounds almost like a conspiracy.

Carefully, he pulls a long strip of fabric out of his pocket. It’s a beautiful silk, red as blood–the chosen color of House Choi. He holds it out with both hands.

“Technically, my brother should be giving this to you,” he says as you take it. “But I don’t think he cares so much about keeping to every tradition. Just the ones that are convenient to him.”

You can feel something thin and hard inside the silk. Eden nods, and you gently unfold the fabric. Inside is a hairpin, shiny silver and around the length of your hand. The end is an intricate dragon head, expertly forged, and in its mouth, a bright red gem. The same dragon that stands resolutely on the Choi family crest. It’s pretty, but something about it makes your heart hurt.

“Tomorrow, you will become a dragon,” Eden says. “You should be able to dress like one.”

“Th-thank you.” You can barely manage it, and you hope that he takes your struggle as emotion and not the war that’s starting to wage within you.

After Eden leaves, the hours pass slowly. You aren’t sure what time it is when Daniel stops by your chambers. He barely speaks to you, but you can tell something is different about tonight. He stays longer after, falls asleep in your bed, on top of the coverlet. You aren’t sure when you drift off, only that you do.

You aren’t quite sure what wakes you up. It’s late. Or maybe early. It’s pitch dark–you can’t even see candles in the windows across the courtyard. Mysteriously, Daniel is still beside you. You’ve awoken on your side, so you can’t see him, but you can feel the dip in the mattress and the pull of his body on the blankets.

But there’s something else. Your blankets almost feel damp, the linen heavy with an extra weight. You sit up, curious, and immediately notice a spot that pools around Daniel. It’s soaked down deep into the mattress, the spot dark, almost black, in the dark of night. You reach out and touch it, and though you aren’t sure what you’re expecting, it’s sticky.

“My king?” you ask softly, touching his arm. He hasn’t moved since you woke, and you have a sinking sense that something is horribly wrong. When he doesn’t rouse, you shake him. “Daniel?”

There’s no response. His arm is stiff. He does not move. Your skin is sticky. You shake him harder, so hard that he rolls over. For a moment, you believe he’s awake. But then you see the cloth sticking out of his parted lips. And the gaping hole in his neck.

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#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #suga fic #suga fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #myg x reader

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 10 months ago

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❝ you make me feel like I am clean again ❞

yandere!mob leaders x gn!reader | how you met | not proofread

warnings: graphic description of violence, guns, power imbalance (r! is part of the gang but they are a low-ranking member), yandere tendencies, mentions of drug dealings, very brief mention of r! getting felt up by someone in JH's section

masterlist ;

authors note: doing some oc writing feels lowkey daunting but I hope you guys enjoy it, I wasn't exactly sure how to format this aaaa but! I hope it isn't too confusing. I wanted to go more into depth but I suppose this serves as an introductory post to them??? IDK, I've never written this kinda thing before. * here is the better-quality post of the illustration * song on repeat: Love Song by Mariee Sioux

Kim Seo-Yun —

Seo-Yun would be unimpressed the first time she laid her eyes on you. It wouldn't be due to your looks, mannerisms, voice; she's just been hardwired that way.

Wants and needs are hard to convey when you're running one of the most dangerous businesses one could run. Drugs, gambling, skin, weapons — Seo-Yun's a busy woman.

Over time, however, she'll let her gaze linger on you.

Have you always looked so good in that colour? It really does bring out the shine in your eyes, and the suppleness of your lips. Seo-Yun's gaze is intimidating but seeing you squirm is all a part of your charm.

That's right. You're only dressing and acting this way to grab her attention, correct? Why else would she find it so hard to rip her sights from you?

Honestly, she shouldn't be making such frequent trips to the lower ring of her gang. This warehouse was meant to weed out the weakest of her guard dogs. It reeked of sweat and blood and cigarettes and cheap booze. The constant sounds of wrapped knuckles beating down on sandbags and bodies falling on thin mats gave her a headache.

Yet. She stands here on the second floor, gazing down at the sweaty men, a handful of women, and most importantly; you.

Favoritism comes slower than her interests. Seo-Yun will shove her feelings down until it bursts like a fucking volcano. All of a sudden, it's as if she's a hound that's caught the scent of their kill.

"What?" The man before you is wearing an expensive suit, luxury adorning him from the shimmering cuffs to the stitching that holds it together. "Madam Kim is requesting your transfer," he says curtly.

The transfer promotes you from doing grunt work near a polluted harbor to one of Seoul's most expensive penthouses in Gangnam.

It's jarring. She does not give you time to adjust. One moment you're setting down your duffel bag of things and the next you're in the back of a luxury car driving through Seoul's wealthiest district.

The guards (who are double your size and proudly show off their facial scars) push you toward the door of a seamstress. The very air you breathe smells like money.

When you see Seo-Yun, your eyes widen and you kneel to bow.

She muffles her amusement with a slow drag of her cigarette.

"They're very pretty, Madam Seo-Yun," a kindly old lady says from behind her. Her hands were bony and delicate, and the pin cushion she wore around her wrist looked heavy. Everything about her seemed deliberate and put together.

Despite that, despite the glamorous patterns she had on her and the jewelry hanging from her ears; Seo-Yun called for eyes on her with no more than a simple wave of her hand, flicking the ashes away from the cigarette.

"Aren't they? Such a gem."

Seo-Yun orders you to be a part of her security team. Dresses you in custom-made suits to blend in with the rest of the capable men and women. She gives you new weapons and arranges for you to have an apartment near hers. New fake IDs in store, local beat cops turning their gaze away as you smoke in alleyways with an obvious bulk under your jacket.

A gem she called you. And like a gem, she cannot keep her eyes off you.

Stares at you as if you were put on display. Relishes in the way you keep your gaze down, squaring your shoulders, straightening your posture — squirming under her gaze.

"Come inside," you freeze at her words. The other security guards stand stoically in the private entryway of her penthouse and she stands on the threshold of that obscenely large and heavy door.

"Madam?" you squeak out. She narrows her upturned eyes, like a goddess with no mood to be asked twice.

This is a nightly occurrence. It becomes a routine.

She invites you into her home, leaving the door open for you to close on your way in. She sits on the tufted leather sofa, and her grin is expectant.

You kneel. Then, you bring your palms to the floor and crawl towards her. Only stopping when your chin is on her knee and you bring your eyes to meet hers.

"Sweet thing," she'll coo. Her palm is soft and cared for, but there is the slightest bit of callousness here and there. That roughness that comes with holding a gun to someone's head.

The first time she had told you to kneel, you'd been so confused you stood there like a statue. Seo-Yun gives you a minute to let it click, and she tilts her head as you jerkily kneel on her expensive floors.

"Crawl to me."

"Sweet darling," she continues. Your eyes flutter close as she traces your cheekbones with her thumb. "So good for me, so obedient, aren't you?"

How could you not be?

In the weeks you'd been with her, your life took such a drastic turn. Well-fed, well-cared for, and pampered in little but big ways. You were the runt of the litter, a stray, she told you.

She had seen you, she said. She had seen your potential, your drive, your passion.

"I was...I just, I just needed the money, Madam," you sheepishly admit that first night, balancing your chin on her knee.

Who would choose to become the grunt of a dangerous gang? Miniscule soldiers with dreams of dying a movie-worthy death, of brotherly bonds between hardened criminals — Please. You were at the end of your rope, this was the only option before the noose.

"Money is life," Seo-Yun strokes over your cheeks. "You fought to live, climbed through the muddy filth of the pier, and here you are. In my lap."

"I see you, (Y/N)."

"Are you tired?" the shake of your head earns a firm squeeze on your jaw. Your eyes flutter open so she grins sweetly.

"Bathe with me." She lifts your chin and you stand, taking her into your arms as she tugs on the shoulder gun strap you wore, leading you along like a leash. A security guard's job does not include such tasks. You're aware. But how could you say no to the most powerful woman in Seoul?

Your relationship starts off with a clear dynamic. You belong to Seo-Yun, no ifs or buts. No matter how dubious your feelings towards her are, you cannot deny there is such a lovely prospect of being a powerful person's beloved.

Or gem. Or pet. Or...whatever it is Seo-Yun considers you as.

All you know is you are hers and she expects nothing but loyalty and excellence from you. She dresses you in the best, feeds you the best foods, your mattress is hers and therefore it is fit for a Queen.

How spoiled are you, (Y/N)?

So spoiled you do not even realise the pretty cage she's put around you. Don't realise that those pearly white gates are her own teeth as she closes her jaws; too distracted by the gifts, the love, she showers you in.

Exactly how she wants you to be. Pliant, demure, and hers.

So what if your old friends suddenly never contact you again? Or your financial dependence has suddenly been transferred to her? If you never hold a gun in your hands ever again.

"Crawl to me, baby."

And you do. And she grins as she holds your face.

"Good pet."

Kim Jeong-Hyun —

Jeong-Hyun is a peculiar man. Some would argue he's barely a man; others would chime that he's barely human. The sight of the deep scars on his body; the mutilated side of his face. His left ear was chewed off, his left eye cloudy, and a good chunk of his lips ripped off to reveal gums and teeth.

Even if he wasn't a monster; he looked it. That was enough to set people on edge. Seemingly unaware of how he plants the fear of God within people, Jeong-Hyun stares at everyone with a dark gaze that could make the devil shiver.

Unlike his older sister, who hides her emotions until they spill over the edge, he makes his interest known from the beginning.

His good eye, lighter than any brown you've ever seen; a molten hazel that flashes gold in sunlight, devours you as he stands before you.

Although Madam Seo-Yun attends the funerals of her fallen men, she does not linger for the drinking and eating. Jeong-Hyun does.

You'd excused yourself from your circle, the drinks making your body warm enough to endure the cold night air as you light up a cigarette.

The clicking of nails on the brick ground forces you to look at the whimpering dog. Mangy, fur matted, and with its stubby legs like rubber as it paws at your shoe. It was someone's pet, left on the streets. Judging from the overgrown fur, it's been a while since someone's given it any kindness.

Jeong-Hyun had just walked out for a breather (he enjoys spending time with his men, but the noises and the scent of booze could get overwhelming), a bag of meat in hand as he set his sights on feeding the local strays.

But then he sees you crouched by an alleyway, pouring some cheap kibble you bought from a nearby convenience store onto some newspaper. Jeong-Hyun's footsteps are ghostlike, you don't even notice he's there until you feel his breath whisper along your ear and when you spin he's statue-like.

"B — Boss!" He's not the boss — he's just her brother. He still outranked you (by a whole league) so, he doesn't correct you as you bow your head so far down it's between your knees.

He looks silly crouched down in his two-piece suit. You're dressed formally, though the two of you were in different financial brackets. Jeong-Hyun does not speak. The pinkish scar that runs across his neck peeks from the collar of his button-up. It has your toes curling just imagining what had caused it.

He nudges the plastic bag your way, and you cautiously take it from him. To your surprise, he squishes his eyes into crescent moons, and despite his scarred cheek lifting from behind the black surgical mask he wore he looked so...innocent.

The rounded shape of his eyes, the deep crease of his eyelid, and his brows - it all makes him look boyish.

You turn your attention to the strips of expensive beef he had gotten, feeding the poor puppy in silence.

Jeong-Hyun's interest begins with him accompanying your crew as you were tasked to make a show of a traitor. He shoves the blade your way, hilt tilted your way as he connects his gaze with you.

The leader of your crew informs him you are new. He does not even pretend to hear him.

You took the blade, the forged metal heavier than you expected it to be but not impossibly so. It seemed as though it was his favorite, a little longer than a dagger but still small enough to hide under your clothes. Weighing it on your palm, you test the balance of it before gripping it tightly and Jeong-Hyun is entranced by the casual dominance you have over it.

The man before you, on his knees with his cut lip hanging heavily and his eyes so bruised you wonder how he can still see you enough to squeak in fear; he shivers and bows desperately.

"How do you want him, boss?" You glance at him, the grip on the blade strong and confident. He narrows his eyes then closes his eyes, jerking his chin forward.

' However you see fit. '

Jeong-Hyun falls in love with your violence.

Asking for you, always. Giving you food to bring back, giving you new knives and even transferring you to his personal squad of men and women. He'd even invited you into his home. Which, apparently, was not unusual but no one had ever had the pleasure of being able to see the pack of dogs he had.

He starts hanging around you more. His favoritism is hard to mask and it causes you more issues than you'd like to admit.

"You're his little bitch now, huh?" or "His cock tastes good, (Y/N)?"

But who can say no when their boss tells them they want you to follow him around, be his shadow, do nothing more than observe boring meetings and itching for the usual vulgarity of mobsters while you're stood by the wall or behind him?

The madam is not impressed by you. Whenever she speaks to her brother, she will cast a glance filled with nothing more than mild bemusement and disgust.

"Hey, boss," he tilts his head in your direction. You're sat in a barbeque restaurant, and he's watching you intently as you flip the meat, licking his exposed teeth with an almost canine-like attribute.

"...Can I ask you a question?" Jeong-Hyun nods, tearing his eyes away to now look at you. They're almost golden, you think to yourself, the colour of his eyes is so bright.

"Why do you favour me?"

Jeong-Hyung, you come to find out, does not speak. The scar you see peeking from his high collars was apparently a wound that had gone so deep, it took the ability for him to speak comfortably. So Jeong-Hyun signs; "What does that mean?"

"Favour?" You ask and he nods.

"Well, it means, why do you...like me...?"

Jeong-Hyung blinks for a few seconds then tells you to flip the meat. The conversation seemingly ends. That is until you find yourself in his home and he has invited you to his basement.

The dogs bark from behind the doggy gate, a hallway away feeling like a stretch of land as their noises echo. In the basement, you find yourself surrounded by crusted blood and metal. He lifts a dagger and shows it to you. It takes a moment for you to recognize it, it's been weeks since you've held it, but then your brows furrow.

"You kill good. Like me, I like that. I like you," he signs while you hold the dagger. "You like me?" He nods, pulling his black mask away from his face, and grins. It's surreal to see, not exactly grotesque but an unusual sight.

"I like you," he signs.

When his enthusiasm is met with confusion, Jeong-Hyun's face contorts into worry.

He takes the dagger from your hand, places it down, then holds your hands in his. He's tall, towering easily over you as he brings your knuckles to his lips.

He has essentially muted himself. Focusing his strength on keeping your hands hostage as he walks forward until your back meets the smoothed limewash walls of his basement.

"Boss? I'm flattered, but this is a lot to take in....!"

His cloudy eye is in a perpetual squint, healed scars tugging on the skin so it looks almost uncomfortable stretched. They have so much sadness that you feel guilt sprout in you.

'Love me,' they say, 'Love me, love me, lovemelovemelovemelovemelovemeloveme'

Your relationship is dubious. The jeers from your comrades make you feel more flustered than before and Jeong-Hyun is not shy about his affections.

He holds your hands in meetings and traces the shapes of your fingers and joints.

When a snake requires a beheading, Jeong-Hyun takes off your jacket for you and hands you a weapon of his choice. The men who snicker at the sight? Jeong-Hyun is not fond of guns but he so does love it when his sister presses her Beretta to the back of their necks and makes them gasp and sputter.

Madam Seo-Yun may not like you but you matter too much to her little brother for her to allow their insubordinate to make fun of you.

Jeong-Hyun is like a touch-starved puppy. Despite his towering size, he crumbles under your touch, your gaze.

"My brother, he is naive to relationships," Seo-Yun informs you during a lunch meeting. "I noticed, Madam," you shrink under her gaze. How is it she has the same shade of eyes and hers are so, so, so cold?

"But he likes you, favours you I think is the word he used. He has never liked someone before. Not as strongly as this. I suppose I should advise you to take some caution."

"My brother's love comes with a storm of violence. It runs in the family, I'm afraid. Please, don't be frightened by his displays."

You didn't quite understand what she meant.

He'd never been violent to you. You had witnessed him kill before, torture, maim — it was not an unusual sight in your line of work.

You didn't understand until you saw it.

Another funeral, more drinks, more meat. Jeong-Hyun has you beside him, eagerly awaiting your metal chopsticks to place more grilled beef onto his plate.

No one laughs at the sight anymore, they treat you as an extension of Jeong-Hyun which, considering how he monopolies your time, you might as well be. It's rare to see you without him.

But as you got up to wash your hands — someone had spilled their drinks and your hand became sticky — an inebriated man had pressed himself against you.

"You must be a good lay if *hic* Jeong-Hyun-ssi keeps you around, riiight? C'mon, just a quickie, c'mon," "Fuck! Get away from me!"

Jeong-Hyun's hand grabs the back of the man's head, rears it backward, and slams it right into the sink. It shatters, the man yells, people around you scream; but Jeong-Hyun tightens his grip, rears his hand back, and slams him down again.

By the end of that public fiasco, the man's head was obliterated so badly, his face was no longer there. Just shredded skin, muscle, and shattered bone and brain matter.

Madam Seo-Yun's gaze on you is heavy in the car. Jeong-Hyun lumbers in, his hand covered with tissues and you immediately pull the bloody fist to your lap. Approval shines in her eyes as you apply pressure and ask if it hurts.

Well, you couldn't say she didn't warn you now, could you?

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #female yandere #male yandere

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datesinredink · 10 days ago

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Ranking the yandere rottmnt boys by how likely they are to kidnap their darling

Just a little crumb to keep myself from losing my mind while staring at google docs this late at night. Sorry if this is super bad, it's way later at night than I'm used to staying up and election night stressed me the hell out.

Donnie.

I have absolutely no doubts that he's going to at least try very very hard to kidnap you. And honestly, I doubt it would be too hard. He's a highly trained, mystic wielding, tech inventing, mutant ninja turtle. And on top of that, he's very fond of planning absolutely everything. And to finish it all off, I think it would be once in a blue moon that he actually treats his darling as an equal. He already thinks he's better than almost everyone, and when he gets obsessed, he has to make himself feel better about it somehow, so he decides to cope by thinking you need him instead of it being the other way around. As a result, he treats you a bit like a very glorified songbird, and songbirds.. well, aren't they usually put in cages anyway? You won't even care after a week or two of adjustment! (He will get upset if you aren't content with being kidnapped by then, by the way.)

2. Raph

The only reason Raph is behind Donnie on this list is because I think he would take longer to justify it to himself. He thinks you're fragile, that you need to be protected from the harsh world! I mean, he barely trusts his youngest brother, who is also a highly trained ninja, to do a simple mission on his own. How do you think he'll treat you after the obsession sets in properly? Not really as an equal, I'll tell you that. He's much nicer to you than Donnie would be, but he still doesn't respect you enough to let you handle yourself, even if that's not how he sees his behavior. At the same time though... isn't he supposed to be a hero? Do heroes kidnap their darlings? Or would this make him the dragon... In the end though, he'll decide that he's fine with being the dragon so long as he knows that the rest of the world won't be able to run their metaphorical (or maybe literal, depending on how unpopular you are in the area) pitchforks right through your heart.

3. Mikey

Mikey wouldn't just.. outright kidnap his darling, I think. I think it would start with a fun sleepover at the lair! Then he insists you stay just one more day! You're having so much fun, after all! Don't you wanna hang out with your best friend for a while longer? You agree, of course- him and his brothers have been nothing but nice to you ever since you met them, and their company is always a delight, so it's worth a shot, isn't it? Then suddenly, the weekend is over, and school's ready to chew you up again, so you do leave. Then it's finally the weekend again! You've heard of a fun game from your school friends, so you plan on trying it when you get home this afternoon- it's friday, after all- when you get a text from Mikey in the group chat with his brothers. He wants you to come over again- and, of course, you say "sure". Not like you can't just play the game on sunday, or when you go home saturday. The sleepover flies by, but you're a bit weary by the time you're pretty sure you're supposed to go home- but here's Mikey, and he's so sure that you promised you'd stay at the lair until sunday again! So, you give in. There's always next weekend, right...? I think you get the pattern, but eventually, he'll be keeping you at the lair 24/7, and you'll be rubbing at your weary eyes wondering how you got into this mess. Sometimes you can even see his brothers shoot you worried looks.

4. Leo

Leo would only kidnap his darling as a last resort, and I think it's because of two reasons. One, he's the brother who sees you closest to being an equal (Donnie and Raph constantly go against your personal autonomy and Mikey puts you on an extremely restricting pedestal), though to be fair, that's not a high bar to pass- and two he much prefers to have some sort of interesting conflict to be present because he finds it entertaining. His life is a weird, morally incorrect soap opera at this point, and he's the number one viewer. Kidnapping would only really happen with him if he thought you were either seriously leaving him (moving or getting into a serious relationship with someone else) or if the circumstances around him got too stressful and he needed something to cling to for any semblance of support outside his brothers (who, at that point, would probably also be super stressed). Think post movie, when the city is still recovering. Man, he was probably freaking out thinking that you might've died to the kraang.

#yandere tmnt #yandere rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #yandere #tmnt x reader #Strawberry's basket #oughhh im so tired #just have to add a little more to something....#then i can sleep....

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olivia-willo-w · 3 days ago

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Random obey me NSFW Headcanon!

(Also I tried to make it gender neutral but some things are still... More F!reader. Sorry! Still testing.)

Warning! NSFW suggestions under the cut!

Lucifer:

Would most certainly either be tourturingly slow or fast as fuck.

Most likely to pound into you after a bunch of work.

Cock warming probably the thing you guys would do most often, who can resist some work sex tho?

Often or not, there's a thrill of getting caught.

Either way, he still teases you and asserts dominance.

Mammon:

Will and would mark you as his.

Would put the hickeys somewhere easy to spot, like your arms, legs face.

Would HATE it when other went up to you the next day since he would want to take care of you.

Wouldn't mind being sub but would more often pound you with reckless abandon.

Leviathan:

If we were talking usually, this bbg is a sub.

He would be blushing, moaning mess as you ride/tease/suck his cock.

Like, he would be the loudest in the house when it came to sex, and he would always ask if you and him could possibly do positions he found from manga/anime.

BUT, when he's jealous beyond repair, things are taking a 180°.

He would brand you, complain how it's not fair for others to even see you, and how you barely pay attention to him.

Would fuck you or make you ride him will grumbling and pouting.

Satan:

He has no experience whatsoever, but he has some knowledge about this from books he's read.

He usually would take it slow and steady, giving you room to adjust and get used to before he quickens the speed.

But if he's mad, he would not really give two fucks about that.

He would just go, "Strip." And more often and not do it right then and there in his room.

Obviously, if he hurt you, he would apologize non-stop afterwards.

Asmodeus:

The king has TONS, of experience as the avatar of lust.

He can take you on any furniture, any position, and any speed.

He would more often then not either video you and him making out, or if your not comfortable with that, he would fuck you in front of the mirror so you can watch your face as you moan in pleasure.

Often or not he would be always asking if today's the day, or if you guys could go again.

It's not likely you would get hurt when it comes with him and sex. He has a LOT of experience in this.

Beelzebub:

At first, he's a little confused, so... You kind of have to make some of his innocence go away by explaining.

After you explain, he understands and nods, asking if that's what you want he can try his best.

Mostly, he would be eating you out to satisfy his hunger and taste you.

But, on the rare occasions he's not eating you out, he could be slamming his cock into you, slowly but brutally.

Belphegor:

As the smart but lazy person he is, he would always make you ride him.

He wouldn't care if you do it in his sleep, as long as he feeling the jolts of pleasure.

Most of the time, he would be drawing lazy patterns on your thigh as you ride him.

There are occasions where Lucifer makes him so angry, he just has to release it.

And when he does release that anger, like Satan, it would mostly be brutal fucking.

He would just fuck you fast and hard without stopping for awhile, muttering curses under his breath about Lucifer.

When he's done, hell just fall on top of you and take a nap, he needs one!

That's it! Hope you enjoyed! This is honestly my first time writing NSFW sooo... Enjoy!

#obey me #obey me smut #headcannons #obey me headcanons

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wilted3sunflowers · 1 year ago

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Pink Pearl: SOLD

Always thought of as a simple minded pearl who honestly to many outsiders never thought she was that great at being a quiet and follow you from behind type. Yet never seemed to be reprimanded much from Zebra Agate whom she was entrusted to. Currently she's thriving in this new Era 3 and on earth in Empire City. She was the one among this group to actually start the whole animal pattern print...kind of. Though technically it could be argued the pattern started with Zebra Agate but Pink Pearl conciously chose leopard print from seeing them on models in store window advertismenet and could not be more interested. On Homeworld theres very little patterns, only really lattice work or stripes of any kind or diamond checkerboard. No one really thought out- no one thought to look to organic beasts for fashion. Humans are so fascinating. Maybe thats what that Rose Quartz truly saw in them. How creative and vibrant they are. Comes with a past form too on toyhouse

Design Notes on Grey and Pink Pearl: Inspired first by Pink pearl's interest in 'animal pattern' which Grey is a pearl who excelled at being 'a pearl' sure she was never the most emotive, sing song-y type of pearl for entertainment yet what Zebra Agate needed was a pearl more of a secretary of keeping things on schedule and taking calls and what not. I also decided for this story a conscious effort that Pearls don't wear patterns. They're not of importance they are here to be simple, more softer colors typically and just to show they're a pearl. not some combination of gem type wearing another gems pattern. Also decided the same of course for Pink pearl for them being simple, run of the mill pearls even if Grey has a bit more to her past design it was only for the more authoritative feel that a pearl might have being under an *Agate* that terrifies Design notes on Pink lace: Due to corruption she is a lot more faded- not just from corruption but because her gem was more like that of the sand gem. Embedded in an object and only ever facing the sun. bleaching her gem of colors with too much exposure. She's a lot more polished in her currently look- i had a design ready for her just out of corruption look but then that would leave Zebra agate without a past form and decided to let the two non pearls without past forms. She of course used to be much more vibrant.

Design Notes on Zebra Agate: purposefully the inverse of typical zebra pattern on her clothes. with white stripes on black you can see that her hair itself is a regular part of black stripes on white like a typical zebra. also her design on her bodysuit is specifically to mimic a ribcage with zebra stripes

Zebra Agate: [Sold] "An Agate Terrifies" That's what Agates do. That's who Agates are. Subjugate those out of line and whip them into shape. They're here to make everyone stay in their proper places and follow rules. However I took her to completely go into the other direction of dealing with rules. The Punk movement appealing to her- if this is Era 3 and there is no need for her job role. Why should she keep trying to force a terrifying agate lifestyle? She may not be the kindest or most sweet Zebra Agate is however sentimental and more thoughtful than many- even pink lace considered her much more cold and rigid to expectations of what used to be common of gem society. While shes not an anarchist she has been delving into punk fashion but also the subculture to help her adjust to her new world and its views. She had always needed to follow rules blind and enforce them but due to the new order change. How else was she to find something that even acknlowedges no structure is perfect and many are flawed- even so her diamonds were flawed. Nothings perfect and nothing is without work to adjust.

Grey Pearl: SOLD A muted personality. What do you do when you used to know everything you were supposed to do? Living not in just a new era but an entire new world where you're allowed a lot more freedom that you never actually craved before. She's known Pink Pearl for thousands upon thousands of years and while there are some feelings of envy she would consider Pink Pearl to be her only friend. It's a complex mix of emotions like anyone would have especially towards Zebra Agate and the peculiar softness she seems to have for Pink Pearl that she has with no one else. Whilst never treated harshless it always was more of a cold wall from Zebra Agate that Grey Pearl felt. That this was strictly business relationship. Agate never even asked her to sing or dance- two components that make a pearl a pearl in many's eyes. Yet she's asked Pink Pearl to sing for her, and never stopped her from dancing without being asked. Grey Pearl may not have much of a relationship with Faded Pink Lace however she almost projects a sense of kinship of feelings left behind with her. In fact it was after Pink Lace Agate came back with those curated corruption spots that she decided to have some own markings herself. Humans have tattoos and while she can't get a traditional tattoo from humans she herself worked to get those marks on herself. She was the last one in the group to reform to this new Human lifestyle. Comes with a past form too on toyhouse

(Faded) Pink Lace: SOLD During the gem war she of course fought for homeworld and even was was part of the last charge. Of course, while she is more of the carefree type even she could see the dangers. Zebra was part of the task to pull out more of the aristocrats and Pink Lace part of the ground troops. Anything could happen so just as a precaution she sent her pearl away to Zebra Agate. Honestly, she expected that terrifying Agate to reset Pink Pearl for herself. It was a peculiar feeling for Pink Lace recognizing her pearl- even if it took only a moment before her Pearl recognized her. All so unevenly spotted and with sharp spiked growths coming out of her. She was a mess...Just how Zebra Agate used to scold her about. Her pearl still so lively and a bit oblivious to others feelings but even now so creative- such unique spots on her dress...theyre not even diamond shaped. Pink Lace at least knows to go with the flow of things but a good deal perceptive.

#steven universe #fangem #fangem adopt #adopt #my art

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forgeofthenine · 1 year ago

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Hello there :) I just want to say that I love all of your work so far, it’s absolutely amazing :) if it’s okay please could I request headcanons of the Bachelor’s having a crush on a shy and insecure non tiefling reader 💙💙

Thank you so much! ♥️♥️♥️ I'm sorry it took me a while to get to your headcanons, but I hope you enjoy them! I also just got a new phone, so any extra typos are bc this new keyboard is screwing me over lmao

The bachelors with a shy and insecure reader

Dammon

Easily one of the best love interests for someone that's shy or insecure

Dammon is great at slowly easing people out of their shell, he pushes without going to far

He has patience too, even if it takes months for you to have a full conversation with him

Really, the man just likes seeing you act all shy, the way you flush with embarrassment is endearing

And, while the fact you're a non tiefling gives him pause at first, it's not really an issue for him

If anything it just means you won't pick up on the way his tail wags-

Dammon is so sweet about your insecurities

Depending on what they are, he'll either help you reach your goals or assure you that your wonderful

Both even and possibly at the same time

He's so big on praise and there doesn't go a day where Dammon doesn't compliment you in some way

Everything Dammon says is so sweet and genuine too

Zevlor

This lovely paladin would suit someone shy and insecure

Zevlor himself is quiet and reserved, and has dealt with his own share of insecurities throughout his life

He can see it in the way you act, what's going through your head

There's no way you can hide things from him, after years of being a hellrider it makes you observant

The way Zevlors endlessly understanding is so sweet <3

If you need support or comfort in any way, he will always be there

Whether you need a hug or help fixing a problem

He never expects anything back, but seeing you open up to him is more than enough of a reward

You being a non tiefling doesn't bother Zevlor, I definitely think he's been with non tiefs before in the past

Like Dammon, he is also very patient

Despite his feelings, Zevlor will take your relationship at whatever speed you'd like

He's quite content being a close friend of yours and supporting you

Please just kiss Zevlor already, he'll die before making the first move

Rolan

Are you sure you want to try and date Rolan? 💀

We love him, but this man is a firecracker of a tiefling, he takes a while to adjust to

While he realises you're shy, it takes Cal and Lia pestering him before he stops his little angry outbursts

Instead he starts to become a lot more mindful about his voice, tone, and body language

This goes double when he realises his feelings for you

It's a noticeable change, particularly when you leave a room and the firecracker attitude is back

He's your hype squad too when you're feeling insecure

Rolan is both a proud man but he does worry about his abilities and how he stacks up

It's a perspective that helps him both understand your thoughts, and help you overcome negative thinking patterns

If he gets to spend time with his crush while he helps, then that's just a bonus

In the end, you and Rolan end up being like the 'they asked for no pickles' meme, if anyone knows what I'm talking about

It's honestly so cute seeing him pine over you while hyping you up in his own sassy way

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #bri answers

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safficranger · 2 months ago

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Fake Scenarios In My Head #28

The wind howled against the window, rain pelting the glass in relentless sheets. Flashes of lightning illuminated the dim apartment, casting fleeting shadows across the room. Casey sat on the edge of the bed, half-dressed, her hands clasped nervously in her lap as she stared out at the storm.

"Hey, you almost ready?" Alex's voice broke through the tense silence as she stepped into the bedroom, adjusting the delicate straps of her elegant black dress. She looked stunning and composed, radiating confidence—everything Casey wasn't feeling right now.

Casey glanced at her and managed a small smile. "Yeah, just need a few more minutes."

Alex's gaze softened as she noticed how Casey's eyes lingered on the dark sky, her fingers twisting together. She walked over and sat beside her on the bed. "You okay?" she asked gently.

Casey hesitated, looking down at her hands. "I'm fine. It's just... the storm."

Alex tilted her head slightly. "Are you scared of thunderstorms?"

Casey let out a nervous laugh. "Not scared, just… uneasy." She took a breath, as if bracing herself. "When I was a kid, I got locked outside during a storm. I was drenched and freezing, watching the wind rage around me. Ever since then, storms have kind of… stuck with me."

Alex shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Casey's shoulders. "Why didn’t you tell me? We don’t have to go out tonight if you’re not feeling up to it."

"No, no, I don’t want to ruin date night," Casey replied quickly, shaking her head. "We finally got that reservation. I’ll be ready in no time." She slipped off the bed and moved toward the bathroom, determination in her steps, though Alex could still sense the lingering unease in her movements.

A few minutes later, Alex followed Casey to the bathroom, where she stood in front of the mirror, carefully finishing her makeup.

"Can you help with the zipper?" Casey asked when she noticed Alex.

Smiling, Alex stepped closer, her fingers brushing Casey's back as she reached for the zipper. Instead of pulling it up, she teasingly tugged it down a bit further. Before Casey could react, Alex placed a light kiss on her shoulder, sending a shiver through her.

"Alex!" Casey laughed softly, turning her head slightly. "You're not helping."

"I'm not sorry," Alex whispered, grinning as her fingertips traced the newly exposed skin.

"If you keep this up, we're going to be late," Casey warned, half-heartedly trying to step away.

Alex leaned closer, whispering against Casey’s skin, "We won’t be late, honey."

"Forget late..." Casey smiled, "we’re not going anywhere if you don’t stop soon."

Alex paused, searching her girlfriend's eyes in the mirror. "I canceled the reservation."

Casey stiffened slightly. "What? But the restaurant! You were looking forward to it so much, and it was hard to get in!"

"It’s all good, Case. I'd rather stay home with you tonight than drag you out into the storm."

Casey’s surprise shifted to realization as she turned to look into Alex’s eyes. "You did this because of me, didn’t you?"

"Because you're what's important," Alex reassured her, gently brushing a strand of hair behind Casey's ear. "We can go another time. What matters is that you feel comfortable. And honestly? I’m not opposed to spending date night right here."

"What about dinner?" Casey asked softly, caught between guilt and gratitude.

"I’m sure I’ll find something sweet to satisfy my appetite tonight," Alex grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And we can always order takeout later."

"You don’t want me to go out, but you’re willing to send some poor delivery guy through this weather?" Casey teased, even as a shiver ran through her when she felt Alex's hands slide up her legs, bunching the fabric of her dress.

"By the time I’m done with you, the rain will have stopped," Alex murmured, her voice low and husky. "And I’ll leave a generous tip, if that makes you feel better," she added, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on Casey's skin.

Casey’s resistance faltered, the desire in Alex's touch igniting her own. "I’ll make it worth your while," she whispered.

"I know you will, honey," Alex whispered in her ear, gently lifting the hem of Casey's dress over her hips. As her lips trailed down Casey's jawline, all coherent thoughts slipped away. The restaurant, the storm—everything faded. All that mattered was this moment, right here, right now.

Casey knew this night would be unforgettable—and she had a feeling she might just learn to like storms after all.

#calex #alex cabot x casey novak #casey novak #alex cabot #alexandra cabot #svu #law and order svu #rwfs

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stardust-swan · 4 months ago

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What Is It Like in a *Posh* Moroccan Hammam? 🫧

When I say "posh," I mean upmarket hammams in a wealthy residential areas, not hammams in hotels. This post is about authentic hammams used by wealthy Moroccans, not ones aimed at tourists.

Decor

One of the first things you'll notice in upmarket hammams is that the decor is far more elaborate than in basic hammams. Decor will of course vary from place to place, but to use the example of the hammam next to my great-aunt's place in Casablanca I always make sure to go to:

The walls in both the main washroom and the sauna room are made out of blue and white marble in a traditional zellige pattern. There are also ornate sinks jutting out of the walls also of blue and white marble, whereas in basic hammams there will just be faucets. The sauna has long benches made of marble across the length of each side of the room, and the massage tables are slabs of heated light grey marble.

Regardless of the individual decor choices of each hammam, each building will always be spacious, with high ceilings and curved arches.

Ambience

Upmarket hammams feel luxurious, but understated, focusing on relaxation and subtle elegance rather than opulence and "wowing" people.

The lighting will normally be natural, but if artificial lighting is used it will be subtle and non-intrusive. Whereas in basic hammams it will be bright and practical, and in tourist hammams it will be dim with lighting coming from lanterns and candles (ambient, but not practical for visibility).

Although some may have private areas, authentic hammams in wealthy areas will generally follow the tradition of communal bathing.

As they are located in residential areas rather than tourist hotspots, and as they are a lot larger than basic hammams, they don't feel overcrowded and the experience is more intimate.

Services Offered

Upmarket hammams offer more services than basic hammams, but unlike tourist hammams, all the services are based in authentic Moroccan traditions, whereas in hotels the hammams offer a blend of the basic Moroccan services (sauna, sabon beldi, etc) and services similar to what you'd find in Western spas.

Authentic services you will find in upmarket Moroccan hammams include:

The usual sauna, cleansing with sabon beldi, deep exfoliation and ghassoul clay masks you'll find in every hammam in the country

Massages with argan oil, ghassoul clay, jasmine oil, amber oil, olive oil, honey, or herbal compresses

Herbal steam baths with tabrima, eucalyptus, lavender or mint

Rosewater and orange blossom water rinses

Henna treatments (it's not just used for temporary tattoos but has benefits for the skin and hair)

Facials with products like argan oil, sweet almond oil, honey, and saffron

Foot baths with herbs, oils, and/or milk

(Services will depend on each individual hammam)

The treatments are all high quality by staff who really work for their money. The attendants will scrub off absolutely every bit of dead skin on your body, and I have honestly never been as thoroughly massaged as I have been in these hammams.

Relaxation Lounge

In basic hammams, you just put your clothes on and leave after adjusting to room temperature, but in upmarket ones, you relax in the hammam after towelling off.

After you're dressed, the staff will lead you to another room. To use the hammam local to my great aunt as an example again, the relaxation lounge in this one:

Is full of white chaise longues, one facing another so that you can chat with your companion. They each have a low table in between them, on which a staff member will put down a silver tray, which will have a lit candle which will also have ghassoul clay integrated into it. There will also be glycerin preserved rose petals scattered on the tray, and of course refreshments - a bottle of cold water (much needed after all the heat and steam) and refreshing peppermint tea in a floral cup and matching saucer.

In other upmarket hammams they might have leather couches or armchairs instead of chaise loungues, regular candles without the clay, and Moroccan mint tea instead of peppermint herbal tea, but they'll all follow the same format.

Would I Recommend Trying One of These Hammams?

If you want a luxurious but 100% authentic hammam experience, absolutely! Although hotel hammams are surely fun with their swimming pools, etc, if you want to really experience true Moroccan culture and feel classy while you do it, I'd recommend finding one in a middle or upper class residential area.

They're also inexpensive if you're on Western wages - the one I described in the post is €4 for entry and €15 for a massage, and pretty much all similar hammams will be in that general wheelhouse. Whereas I have no doubt that the ones in hotels are way more expensive - the tourist price vs the local price.

Tips For Going to Authentic Hammams

Whereas in hotels the staff will speak multiple languages, in ones the locals use usually they'll know just Darija and French, maybe basic English but there's no guarantee. If you know French it will be fine, but if not get a Moroccan friend to accompany you.

Shave before going. The attendants will only exfoliate you if your skin is hairless, as the kessa glove can more effectively remove dead skin and impurities without hair in the way, and with smooth skin there's no chance of the rough gloves tugging on your hair and causing your skin to become irritated. The subsequent skincare products applied to your body will also be easier to apply evenly and will be better absorbed. If you haven't shaved beforehand they'll just give you a razor.

You can buy toiletries like soaps and towels, but it's also acceptable to bring your own.

Don't be afraid to get naked. Moroccan women strip down to their panties. Nobody will look at you, everyone is concentrating on bathing (wearing your bra or swimsuit is honestly more likely to bring attention to you than going topless as that's how people will know you're a tourist). You'll see many different body types and all ages in the hammam, so don't worry about being judged if you have stretch marks, extra weight, etc

Men and women bathe in separate areas or buildings, so don't worry about the opposite sex seeing you. You might occasionally see a mother taking her young son with her (as in, toddler age), but never older boys and men.

You can talk and laugh, but don't shout or giggle loudly or anything. It's meant to be a relaxing experience for everyone, and as the rooms are so spacious, loud noises will carry across them.

The massages are really thorough, so be prepared. I've been massaged everywhere from the insides of my ears to my privates in these hammams. If you have anywhere you'd rather they don't touch, communicate it with the massage therapist before getting your massage done, as the norm is to massage literally everywhere.

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shizuturnspages · 18 days ago

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do you think yandere itto is secretly very smart when disposing of his rivals, kidnapping his S/O and stuff but acts like a dumb himbo as an act? if so i bet it’d be scary to wake up in his room all tied up with him all serious and shii🧍🏾‍♀️

or he really is just a lovestruck himbo but that’d be soooooo boring, right? riiiiiiight?

Oh my god, that actually sounds like something he'd do as a yandere. Here's a little scenario to satisfy your need <3

Yandere Arataki Itto

You blinked awake, your head feeling heavy, disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. The room around you was dimly lit, with the faint smell of incense and earth. Soft moonlight filtered through a small, high window, casting pale, silvery shadows across the walls.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and that’s when you realized: you were bound. Thick, coarse ropes kept your arms and legs secured, not painfully tight but immovable all the same. You struggled, and it was only then that you heard it—a low, familiar chuckle.

“Well, well, look who’s finally awake.”

There, in the shadows by the wall, sat a figure you recognized all too well. Itto, the loud-mouthed, supposed “simpleton” of an oni. But in the pale light, he didn’t wear his usual mischievous grin. His red eyes glowed with an unsettling intensity, and his usually carefree posture was rigid, focused. It wasn’t the Itto who bragged and bumbled through the streets, challenging kids to beetle battles and getting chased out of towns. No, this Itto was something else entirely.

“W-Where am I? What’s going on?” you managed to stammer, your voice cracking as you stared up at him.

“You’re safe,” he replied smoothly, his tone lower than usual. He stepped closer, and you felt the tension in his body—like a hunter who had finally cornered its prey. “Or, I should say, safer than you were. After all, it wasn’t easy keeping all those pests away from you.”

You froze. The meaning of his words began to sink in, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. “Itto, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“Oh, come on,” he replied, his tone almost playful, but there was a darkness in his voice that made you shiver. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, you know. And I don’t mean the fun, carefree kind of watching like, ‘Oh hey, what’s my buddy up to?’ No, no, this is… different.”

He crouched down, his face level with yours. His eyes were focused and sharp, a contrast to the usually carefree glint that danced there. He wasn’t giving you the playful Itto who barged in and made a mess of everything. This was something much darker.

“You see,” he continued, “everyone thinks I’m just a big, dumb oni who charges in without thinking. And, honestly? I’ve let ‘em think that.” His smile curved wider, and for the first time, you saw the teeth of a predator. “Because when people think you’re stupid, they don’t pay attention to what you’re really doing. They underestimate you.”

He leaned in, his face close to yours, the smell of smoke and iron clinging to him. “But I’m not stupid, sweetheart. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

You pulled back, your heart pounding as you processed his words. “You’re lying… this isn’t you. You’re just… you’re just acting. Right?”

His eyes narrowed. “Acting? You think I’m acting?” His hand shot out, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. “I’m not acting, I’m just… showing you the side no one else gets to see. The side I saved just for you.”

As he released your chin, he moved to sit beside you, and you could feel his presence, large and unyielding, like a wall trapping you in. His expression softened, though, almost wistful as he traced patterns in the dirt on the floor.

“You remember all those times people came sniffing around you, trying to get close?” he said casually, not looking at you. “I didn’t like that. They didn’t belong. They didn’t deserve you, but they thought they did. So, I made sure they… understood otherwise.”

You swallowed hard, remembering each person who had tried to get close, only to suddenly stop talking to you or disappear from your life altogether. At the time, you’d brushed it off as coincidence, but now it was all starting to add up.

“But… how? Why would you…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Itto shrugged, still not looking at you. “Like I said, people think I’m dumb, but they don’t know me like you do. I can be real subtle when I want to be. Maybe a few words here and there, maybe a little nudge in the right direction. Just enough to keep them from stepping where they didn’t belong.”

He finally turned to look at you, his face eerily calm. “And you belong here, with me. I know it; I’ve known it for a long time. So I made sure that nothing got in the way. I made sure that no one else would try to take you from me.”

Your breathing grew shallow as his words sank in. There was a chilling logic in what he said, an almost calculated precision that belied the cheerful, boisterous persona he usually wore like armour.

“What are you going to do with me?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Itto’s expression softened for a moment, and he reached out to brush a lock of hair from your face, his fingers surprisingly gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to… keep you safe. And now, finally, you’re here. No more people trying to take you away, no more… interruptions.”

He smiled, but there was an edge to it that sent a chill down your spine. “I’ll take care of you. You’ll see. I’ll be everything you need, and you won’t have to worry about anyone else getting in the way.”

You fought against the ropes, panic setting in. “Itto, this isn’t love. This is obsession. You… you don’t own me.”

His eyes darkened at that, his smile fading as he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You think I don’t know that? I know what I feel. This isn’t some crush, or passing fancy, or whatever people want to call it.” His voice dropped lower, and you could feel the tension in his words. “This is me wanting you in a way that no one else ever will. I don’t care what they say or what you think; I know you belong with me.”

He pulled back, giving you a look that was half-amused, half-possessive. “And believe me, sweetheart, I’ve got all the time in the world to make you see that.”

With that, he rose to his feet, stretching his arms as if he hadn’t just confessed to manipulating your life for who knows how long. “So, here’s how it’s gonna go. You’ll stay here until you come around. I’ve got everything you need—food, blankets, whatever. Just relax. No one else knows you’re here, and no one else can find you.”

He grinned, his boisterous attitude slipping back into place, though it now felt like a thin veneer over something much darker. “And hey, if you try to run, I’ll just find you again. I’m a hell of a tracker, you know.”

The casual threat sent a shiver through you, and he laughed, clearly relishing in your reaction. He started humming, almost nonchalantly, as he moved about the room, tidying up small things with a lazy, practised ease. But every so often, his eyes would flicker back to you, a possessive gleam in them that left no doubt about his intentions.

As you sat there, bound and helpless, it hit you: Itto wasn’t the clueless, happy-go-lucky oni everyone thought he was. This was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. His cheerful demeanour had been a mask, hiding the calculating mind of someone who was always three steps ahead, someone who had orchestrated every detail to bring you to this very moment.

He returned to your side, crouching down and resting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Now,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less intense, “you’ll have all the time you need to fall for me, like I fell for you. And don’t worry—I’m very patient.”

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead, lingering for just a moment before pulling back. His face was still that familiar smile, the goofy grin, but now it held a darker meaning. In that quiet, dimly lit room, with his presence looming over you, you finally understood: this was Arataki Itto, the oni who would move heaven and earth to keep you by his side.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin yandere #genshin impact yandere #genshin itto #genshin impact itto #arataki itto #genshin impact arataki itto #yandere imagines #tw kidnapping #genshin x reader #yandere #yandere genshin impact #fyppage #fypシ #fyp #writers on tumblr

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