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seulszn · 1 month ago

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Jinx Headcannons

Warnings: Mild cussing, Fluff.

A/N: this is Modern Jinx headcannons so let me know if you want different headcannons from the show or separate headcannons

Best Friend Jinx

I just wanna say Jinx gives HUGE Chaeyoung from twice vibes from the personality down to the aesthetic. Jinx would be one of those weird loser bisexual girls who comes to school with the weirdest outfits and listens to artists like Coco & Clair Clair, Gorillaz, Tyler The Creator, and Frank Ocean. She would be a huge anime consumer her favorite being probably being Death Note, Nana or one of those early 2000’s grunge like animes.

Jinx is a AWESOME baker I feel like she would be the type of person to just bake whenever she's stressed out or just completely bored she would bake like cookies and cakes and bring them to her friends house “I just wanted to bring you these” and just leave with no other questions. She was in charge of the schools bake sale and that's where she met you. And once she saw you the girl was OBSESSED she did everything in her power to get close to you and be friends with you.

Once you guys become close as friends Jinx would make you yummy treats, make you playlists, give you art or little trinkets she made. I feel like she would be one of those friends who would have absolute terrible ass grammar you could text her and you would not be able to understand what she said like at all at first but over time you started to understand

JINX 💙: hy did ypu do the magh hekmwqdk?

You: Did I do the what?

JINX 💙: the magh hekmwqdk

You: Bitch the math homework?

Imma say it now Jinx is a gamer she plays cutesy little games like animal crossing, Stardew Valley, Sims 4, untitled goose game, and Minecraft and I feel like you guys would have like a cute little island with the cutest villagers. Jinx would come to school with her Nintendo switch and get it confiscated almost every single class that she had to have a parent teacher conference because of it and now Silco checks her bag every day before she leaves out the door.

I want to touch back up on the clothes I feel like if you where to open up Jinx’s closet I feel like all you would see would be graphic tees, colorful tank tops, skirts of different colors, sizes, textures and patterns. I feel like if you where to ask someone what her fashion taste was they would say “if a little kid dressed themself” or if she got dressed in the dark. She usually gets her stuff at goodwill or like depop.

This is kind of what Jinx would wear on a daily basis:

And we all know Jinx famous blue and pink nails that she rocks. I feel like she would also do the most craziest nail art herself or go to a nail salon for them to do it for her and she would LOVE you if you did some sort of matching nails with her. I feel like since jinx has anxiety she would do short nails so she’s not tempted on biting them but if she does grow her nails out then she would have you put that nasty nail polish on that taste disgusting if you put your nails in your mouth.

Jinx knows how to play the guitar don’t @ me she was apart of a band with Ekko where she was the lead singer and guitarist and they just did covers of famous bands and singers they had a small little YouTube channel that actually had good some of views. She would play the guitar all the time anytime you came over you would be engulfed with the sound of Jinx just jamming out with her guitar (I also believe if I’m not mistaken their was a League of Legends ad where Jinx was playing the guitar but I’m not too sure).

Confessing Jinx

I feel like Jinx had a crush on you since she met you and she didn’t know how to confess it to you that she asked her big sister who is in a relationship with a girl what she should do cause poor girl was to scared to loose you if she confessed. I feel like she would ask you on Valentine’s Day she would have a WHOLE day planned just filled with things she she knows you would like, she baked your favorite dessert, painted her favorite picture of you, bought you a new game for your switch, made you a necklace, and bought you a bouquet of flowers and she dressed in a outfit you complimented her on on the first day you met her. Waiting for you she was nervous out of her ever loving mind thoughts running thru her head.

“What if she doesn’t like it?”

“What if it’s too much?”

“Will she like the flowers I got her?”

She tries to remember the script of what she’s gonna say when you walk thru the door and looks over at all the stuff he has laid out she panics and changes her mind but you walk thru the door with a soft smile and confusion on your face “hi” you smile and Jinx heart drops looking at how cute you are that everything she was gonna say leaves her head.

“Uh H-happy Valentine’s Day Y/N” she said handing you a bouquet of flowers she had hidden behind her back. You smiled at the kind gesture thanking the blue haired girl in front of you. Jinx was a nervous reck the whole time afraid of messing up this special day she lead you to the kitchen where your favorite dessert was made and she also made a homemade pizza in a shape of a heart with all of your favorite toppings “you did all of this yourself?” You would ask and Jinx would simply just nod her head with a small little smile on her face.

“But before we eat I have other stuff” she would say pulling you out of the kitchen she would gift you the painting, and the switch game that you have been wanting for while and she gave you one of her old tees that you would always wear when you came over. “Aw Jinx what is all of this pampering for” you would ask and she would just shrug her shoulders not knowing what to say.

She would confess to you at dinner with the pizza she made out in the backyard looking at the stars. You would point at all the different stars and tell her all the names of the different constellations Jinx doesn’t say anything just too busy looking at your pretty face to think of anything else once you notice you turn to her with a smile “what do I have something on my face?”

“Your just pretty that’s all”

“Thank you, you are as well” you say returning the compliment Jinx would frown looking down at the necklace she made you she feels as if she’s about to panic should she just say it and get it over with or just hand you the necklace. “Y/N these moments we made as friends genuinely mean so much to me and I want to make so much more with you” she would say as you look at her nodding at what she is saying.

She hands you the box with the necklace in it you open it looking at the shiny jewelry you glance up at the shy girl in-front of you nervous as ever. She breaths in and then out before saying those words she fears “Y/N would you like to be my girlfriend?” After she looks at your face trying to read your reactions but you where to much in shock to say anything. The girl in front of you asking basic you to be her girlfriend? You felt as if you where dreaming “Please say something this tension is starting to scare me”

You smile at the girl before jumping on her and planting wet kisses all over her face “YES YES YES I WILL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” You yell out with tears on your face Jinx sighs before giggling at your reaction you move off of her before laughing at the girl “what?” Jinx just smiles before pointing to the box you hand it to her and she opens the box removing the jewelry from it and places it onto your neck.

Girlfriend Jinx

I feel like your guys relationship wouldn’t be any different from when you two were friends but Jinx would be a huge SIMP for you anything you did she would be drooling over, she’s also VERY clingy you guys are like glued to the hip teachers would always ask “where is the other one” anytime you guys weren’t together and she she’s so clingy that she asked the principal if he could put you two in the same classes together but once he declined she pouted and pouted and just decided to wait for you outside your classroom.

Like I’m serious once her teacher says they are done for the day she would pack her stuff up and run to your classroom and just look into the room watching you write something down on a piece of paper you sometimes wouldn’t notice her mainly because you are too focused on the stuff the teacher is saying.

It wouldn’t be until a teacher yells at her to stop peeking into their classroom, for a student to tap your shoulder or for her to text you for you to even notice her. Once your class was over she would pace over to you and just give you the biggest hug as if she hasn’t seen you in years. “I was only away from you for like forty five minutes” you would giggle at the girls tight hug.

Since you guys how two different aesthetic i also think you guys would have like a separate friend group like you guys would have a main group like Ekko and then you two would have your own. (If that makes sense) so let’s say one of your friends pulls you away for lunch to sit by them Jinx would get so confused and then upset over the fact your friends would do that and she would be at another table sulking just glaring at you laughing and giggling with your friends. “You seem upset” her friends would say

When you guys do sit by eachother at lunch I feel like she would share her lunch with you but you would sometimes decline cause you want her to eat (she has a thing where she tends to starve herself) “I’m not hungry though” she would state and you would shake your hand pushing her lunch box back to her “you need to eat” she would roll her eyes and just do what you said.

I feel like Jinx’s favorite thing to bring to lunch would be like Dino nuggets or like a Lunchable with a juice box at first you thought it was very childish but Jinx simply says that this is her favorite lunch to pack. And she LOVES snacks so you tend to pack extra snacks to share with her at random times during the day.

When you guys share classes with eachother she always sits by you weather that’s in the front or in the back I feel like you two would exchange notes well it mainly Jinx exchanging notes and you trying not to get caught by the teachers the paper would have little doodles Jinx did or little questions she has

Jinx: wht th qustion to number 6?

You: I’m not telling you figure it out yourself

Jinx: YOU ARE SO MEAN! =(

Jinx: Can I have those pretzels?

She is actually very smart she just has a short attention span and forgets things like 95% of the time like if you see her zoning out in class you would poke her to get her attention and then lean in to whisper into her ear “are you paying attention?” Due to Jinx zoning out you write down a lot of what the teacher says to share it with her and she thanks you.

If you guys have to work together no work is getting done it just filled with Jinx yapping your ears off no matter how many times you try to tell her to focus she never does until you tell her your not gonna come over later after school and once she hears that she’s locked in.

This girl is the MOST Sassiest person you have ever met in your whole entire life she would make all these snarky remarks that leave you shocked there was a time she was arguing with Vi and she just mumbled these funny remarks as her sister is generally crashing out it could be over like Jinx eating the last slice of cake that Vi was gonna eat once she got home.

“I was gonna eat that!”

“Call down big back it wasn't even good to begin with”

Its funny how sassy she is but it also tends to get annoying

Jinx isn’t the type to get jealous well that’s what she tells herself but in all seriousness she’s the most jealous person you know. One time you invited her to a party one of your friend was hosting and the whole entire time she was close to you the whole night and would eye roll anybody who would flirt with you

“Y/N I love your hair, it’s nice” some random person would say and you would thank them with a smile and Jinx would scoff before mumbling something sassy under her breath you turn to her hitting her chest softly telling her to be nice. She would text you if her friends pulled her away and she sees something she doesn't like.

Jinx 💙: Who is that? Who is that getting all close to you?

Jinx 💙: WTF what did he whisper in your ear? Y/N your making me mad woman 😤

You: Bae chill he's my science partner plus he's gay

Jinx would LOVE PDA I feel like she wants everyone to know she bagged a baddie so she's kissing you in public and acting all flirtly she could care less what anyone thinks she always has to know you are by her so she's either holding your hand, wrapping a arm around your waist or putting her hands in your back pocket and she's always smacking your butt for some odd reason which has you jumping “stop doing that it hurts” you would say rubbing it.

You and Jinx would have a pampering day at her house where you do eachother hair and just relax. If your black and have like kinky curls I feel like she would watch you brush your hair and put in detangler, and then try it herself cause she is in awe at your hair texture, and trust in this Jinx will look up how to do your texture of hair, she's watching youtube videos, reading books, asking some of her friends with the same texture she's doing it all so the next time you have a pampering day she knows what she is doing.

“How the hell you know how to do box braids?”

“Uh don't worry bout it”

And you would love doing Jinx’s hair since its so long and straight you can do so many styles on it your favorite is braids with clips in it. After finishing eachother hair you would dress in the silliest clothes and just jam out to Jinx’s playlist.

Her family would love you especially her little adopted sister Isha any time she sees you come over she's running to the door with a huge smile on her face waving “hi little Isha” you would wave back you reach into your purse and hand her a oatmeal creme pie cookie you made a few days ago and she giggles grabbing it thanking you and walking off to her room.

Jinx feels at times that you will leave you so she sometimes needs reassurance that you won't ever leave her and that the two of you are end game

Welp another done with this hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing this and I hope you have good day (and keep requesting stuff) orevwa :). Ⓒ︎ seulszn.

#seulszn #arcane #jinx xreader #jinx arcane #jinx #vi arcane #arcane x reader #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends

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flokali · 1 year ago

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Hi i just went through your entire blog and now im having intense sagau zhongli brainrot hafjdjhdjexhsn imagine sagau zhongli worshiping fem readers chest for hours *dies*

(lying) I am so normal about boobs and Zhongli… but Anon I Am Thinking So Hard (TT) His hands are so big, his fingers are so long… with only one hand he’s able to cup your boobs (and if not then he does his best, just completely enthralled with the way some of your fat leaks from between his fingers and outside of the confines of his greedy hands) and just… squeezes while he uses his mouth on the other one, licking and kissing you until you’re sensitive from his textured (and forked) tongue… I am so okay and sane about this.

Pairing: Afab! Reader (heavily implied ; no mentions of anything other than boobs (size not specified)) x Zhongli!

Warning: Yandere, Sagau, God-like reader, cult-like behavior, obsessive and possessive thoughts, n//sft (not explicit), groping & kissing & sucking, chest/boob worship, reader is implied to be bedded by multiple characters, implied murderer (or willingness to commit), cocky Morax makes an appearance, forked tongue and cold blooded Zhongli nation rise; ask to tag!

Word Count: 2k

Zhongli’s hands are, unlike most people would be led to believe, slightly colder than the average being’s. Due to his connection to the Geo element and most natural stone’s cold temperatures, it isn’t surprising that beneath his gloves lay hands that felt smooth and chilly to the touch.

It was one of your initial observations when you first felt his un-gloved hand make contact with your own. It had taken a lot of sugary words of affirmation that he would not hurt nor taint you if he touched you with his bare hands, he’d convinced himself that you were as fragile as the carving made of crystals that’d he’d crafted, Zhongli had always feared that he may be still too much of a brute to handle you without breaking.

The feeling sent shivers up your spine, you wouldn’t quite know how to describe it, his touch was light as a feather but as imposing as the Archon’s presence, it was akin to the feeling of marble beneath bare feet, smooth and pleasant yet chilly.

His hands are also, much to no one’s surprise, slightly calloused, but not as much as you’d expect for a being once known as the God of War. The tip of his fingers were slightly thicker, as was the palm of his hand, probably from the way he gripped his weapon and the amount of times he found himself doing so. After millenia of wielding all manners of tools, it was impossible his hands didn’t tell the story as well.

Even so, his hands still managed to feel soft as they traveled across your skin. They glided across your body, up through your arms and across your collarbone; the ethereal touch leaves your skin tingling with desire and anticipation, eyes transfixed with the enchanting smile that graced Zhongli’s handsome features as he allowed his hands to wander across your bare skin, even though you were the one on the receiving end, it truly seemed as if Zhongli were the one enjoying it the most. His body relaxed, shoulders loosen, he looked at peace. His long hair let loose, his clothes replaced by silken robes that hung from his frame lazily, he was the picture of serenity and earthly bliss.

The first time you’d seen him he had been so terribly nervous, a sight completely unlike the one you’d come to know across your screen, his posture was stiff, his words felt rehearsed, and you were certain you heard a relieved sigh once he finished introducing himself; you’d later come to know it was due to a crumbling feeling of anxiety and fear of upsetting you. He may be one of the oldest of your acolytes but it was perhaps that very fact that weighed heavily on his shoulders, he had to be the best, the most knowledgeable, the most befitting servant of a deity such as yourself.

To be completely honest, had you not experienced the absolute madness that it was to be sent into a world you’d once thought fictitious and later been told you were a deity revered by the Gods of this world themselves, the mere thought of a man like Zhongli, a being who’d witnessed millenia pass him, who’d met Gods of times long since gone, nervously reciting a greeting in the mirror in preparation of meeting the likes of you would have been a comedy like no other.

However, many moon cycles had now passed and you’d learned that not only had you unknowingly become a God in a world you’d once played with but that Zhongli, the man in front of you right now, was perhaps one of your biggest devotees.

And prove his devotion he shall.

It’d become a ritual for certain acolytes, the ones of age and who bore a Vision, to engage in more physical forms of worship now that you resided with them in the same physical plane. Not all of them took part in the process, some believing it to be sacrilegious to even so much as think of you in such a lewd manner, but the ones who did fought tooth and nail to be allowed a fraction of your time and grace.

Tonight, as you lay in one of Liyue Harbor’s most exquisite hotels, it was Zhongli’s turn.

Every “worshiping session” he’d dedicate himself to a new part of your body and tonight’s focus was on your chest.

He’d been so careful in peeling off your garments, making sure not to be too rough – as in his excited state he’d sometimes miscalculate his own strength – or too hasty, wanting to savor the moment your breasts finally revealed themselves to his greedy eyes.

Once they finally are free, he lowers his hands to cup one in each, allowing himself to play with them, all while squeezing and pinching at the fat until the skin turns sensitive, he was never rough, never trying to hurt you, but he couldn’t help the thoughts of simply digging his nails a little deeper to leave a more lasting mark for the next “follower” of yours to find. However, the thought of your pained whines managed to reel him in, for now.

While he uses his hands to massage the general area, his thumbs come and lay above your nipples, making sure to circle the areola, allowing your breasts to process the touch and slowly harden your nipples without him touching them directly. He lets the tip of his fingers trace the spot, teasingly hovering them above your perked nipples before going back to knead your breasts.

You’re panting ever so slightly, the feeling of your breasts being used in such a way sends small waves of pleasure straight into your clit, it leaves you trying desperately to create some sort of friction between your legs. The man above you notices and chuckles, finally giving in to your soft movements of desperation and allowing himself to play with your nipples properly. He takes the hardening nub in between his thumb and index, slowly pinching and pulling at the skin, rubbing your other breasts as lewdly gropes the fat.

“Mhmm…” You whine, bucking your chest into his hands in an attempt to incite more. You bring your hands to meet his own and start instructing them into squeezing your chest tighter and faster, switching between tugging and pinching, kneading and softly-scratching.

“Mh’m, like that?” He chuckles, allowing himself to be guided, only applying pressure every once in a while, teasing your desperate behavior.

“Do more,” you mumble between soft pants, he’s teasing you - purposefully setting a slow pace that has you wanting more - so you decide that the only logical way to get him to stop is by teasing him back, in such a way that he has no choice but to give in and finally drop his frustrating game, “I know you’re better than this, Morax.”

“… Oh?” His expression turns into one of shock and later amusement, almost taken off guard at your words; but he knows His Idol, he knows how much you enjoy playing with him, riling him up until he loses his restraint and gives into his more primal desires.

His eyes darken, his eyelids fluttering and eyebrows turning in amusement, a grin – no, smirk – more akin to that of his younger self takes over, while his golden eyes seem to take an unnatural glow. He leans forward, fully engulfing your body with his own, until his head meets your breasts and you can feel his hot breath against your skin.

“I wouldn’t have thought your excellency to be so greedy,” he chuckles, the warmth he lets out makes you shiver, his hands trace the sides of your breasts while he begins to plant open kisses into your flesh, “mhm… ‘so needy, my love, have the others not been serving you as well as me?”

You groan as you feel him begin to suck at your tits, his tongue poking out and leaving glistening trails of his drool across your skin, it’s gentle, his forked-tongue barely touches your flesh but the ghost of its presence is enough to give you goosebumps.

Zhongli’s mouth occupied itself with your right breast as his hands worked on your left, while he playfully bit and kissed you he made sure to keep stimulating you as much as possible, his hands molded your skin, squeezing and caressing every bit of flesh his palm made contact with. His open-mouthed kisses slow down as he approaches your nipples, he takes his time - making sure to softly graze you with his sharp teeth, making sure to tease you as much as possible while never quite stopping.

Your eyes never once left his, it was overwhelming, as most things were with Zhongli, the pleasure paired with his intense gaze as he made sure to commit every expression of yours to memory would have made anybody flustered.

He laughs but it’s not mocking, his eyes glaze over while he makes a show of finally getting around to sucking on your perked up nipple, he stares at you - as if daring you to look away - while his lips finally latch onto that place you so desperately had wanted them, his cheeks are clearly flushed as he begins to flick at the nub with his tongue while sucking the spot.

Instinctively you arch your back but he quickly uses his own body to drag you down, he moves around a bit, as if trying to find the best position to latch onto you, desperately wanting to overtake your body and shield you from everything that wasn’t him.

His hand cups your breast even as he pulls away with a lewd “pop”, never letting your chest be without some form of stimulation, he licks at the areola, making sure to make a spectacle as his tongue travels across one breast to the other. He switches movement, kissing and sucking while still kneading and pulling. He’s never rough, never cruel in his touch, he’s always so delicate, making sure to treat you with the utmost care.

The feeling of his cool digits after having his warm breath on you is jarring but nevertheless pleasurable, you whine as your hands shoot up to cradle his hair, fingers finding their way onto his silky hair as you unconsciously pull him closer to your body.

He chokes on a moan, his eyes roll back slightly, if there was one thing Zhongli adored was the feeling of your hands pulling against his hair, it was one of those things he could never get enough of. The truth was that this session was fueled by his own selfish desires of being your most devoted lover, your only lover; if there was one thing in this universe he craved more than you was being the owner of the title of your beloved. He hoped that these special sessions between you two would prove that he truly was the only one worthy of such a title.

For who else could have you breaking so beautifully in their hands from pleasure alone? No one, he was the only being able to lure you into such earthly desires, he was sure of it.

His tongue on your nipple, playing with your beautiful body, his hands desperately gripping at your chest, all while he savored the proximity in which he was able to see you fall apart were blessing given to him and him alone, holy gifts from you to him, your ever so loyal servant, who dedicated his heart, soul, and body to you.

Even if you did not know how deeply the devotion he held for you went, you could tell from his aroused state, his never ending servitude, willing disposition, and obsession with pleasing you that you had, knowingly or not, enthralled a man who was now willing to do anything for you.

Just seeing you fall apart from him playing with your chest was enough to have him coming close to his peak, a ball of pleasure forming as he memorized the look of pleasure and bliss that took over your hazy features.

Your breathing is quick, your body feels hot and bothered, his touch is intoxicating, you want more of it and he wants more of you, you’re not able to even so much as forget who it is you’re with for everything he does is so clearly him; no one devoted themselves to you the same way Zhongli did and if there was such a person, he’d make sure to eliminate them before they became a problem.

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spitdrunken · 1 year ago

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i am absolutely insane about your headcanons with the vee's, my mind is so full now... this is exactly what i was hoping to find when searching through the hazbin x reader tag after watching the episodes 👁️🙏🏻 please i'm so!! the being a writer for the vee's imagine is such a good idea, val and his.. comment especially got to me..

also, for your consideration:

Val — or all of the Vee's, really —, but, in the beginning, he's really not convinced about the quality of your dialogues, despite all the lines he's read (or, well, has had Vox read to him), so naturally you have to read your previous stories out loud to him, cheeks flushing and squirming when it gets to particularly graphic scenes and his gaze on you is so very heavy, smoke caressing your jaw while you stumble over your words.. It's worse if you've written about them and a character who resembles you, and Val's smile widens when you skip from story to story, mentioning the character — definitely not you — sucking Vox off, bending over willingly for Val and begging for Velvette to touch her, or even take all three of them at once, greedy...

Also the. love potions Velvette makes have me feeling things.. Her or Vox but they might end up putting a drop or four into your glass — purely accidentally, of course! —, and...

this is terrible.. my mind is too full now... i might have to post writing for hazbin now and it is your fault alone.. (affectionate; truly, I've enjoyed your thoughts so very much!! thank you for sharing!)

I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :D!! I had an absolute blast writing it myself, and I've been thinking about it lots!! Your ask made it even Worse (/pos) and I simply had to write more!! Please please please let me know if you write something for Hazbin, I can tell from your ask already that it'll be wonderful! And if you ever wanna chat about these guys, feel free to message me again, haha.

Notes: power imbalance, sexual harassment, heavily dubious/noncon due to love potion usage.

The fact Vox even bothers at all to take the time to sit Valentino down and read to him is already a show of your quality— He really wouldn’t go through wrangling him like that for just anyone, especially not with Val getting a bit pissy when being reminded your works were being compared to his. He needs to be told that, obviously, Val, some mere written words are never going to compare, especially not in earnings, to his creations. This placates Valentino. But all Vox gets for his efforts are a lazy flick of one of Valentino’s four wrists, his eyes not even looking at him. “Look, I still think it fucking sucks. But if you wanna hire them so badly, whatever. I’ve got better shit to do than listen to daddy’s horny story-time.” Suffice it to say, he becomes a lot more… Amiable (poor you) once you’re actually working there, and he has a face to attach to the stories. He can tell upon first glance that you’re one of those pathetic little hermits, too scared to leave your own shitty apartment, barely scraping by— He’s recruited plenty of those types as whores, after all. So easily pushed around that it shouldn’t give him nearly as much satisfaction as it does.

When Valentino practically demands you join him in his room and read your previous work to him, you sputter out protests, heart skipping a beat. Every employee in the company has something bad to say about this man, and so he’s about the last person you want to be caught alone in a room with. Especially not his bedroom.

“Ah, sir, I’m not really sure—“ But he’s already wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his side as he drags you through the halls. The first thing that strikes you is how different the texture of coat is than you were expecting. It doesn’t even feel like anything at all. “Oh, sweetheart, call me Valentino. No need to be so unfamiliar with each other.” He practically purrs, a single finger tracing up the contours of your chest. “I feel like we’re going to get quite familiar.” If all the alarms weren’t ringing in your head before, they most definitely are now. But there’s nothing you can do. His grip on you is tight and, underneath his red coat, you can feel the hard metal of a pistol pressing against you.

He takes you to his room, walls covered with posters featuring himself, and you hardly have the time to look around before he sits you down on one of his red couches, still caught underneath one of his arms. It’s hard to think, much less speak, as Valentino starts to prod you to pull out your phone and start reading. “No need to be shy. You’re such an artista, aren’t you? Don’t keep me waiting.” It’s easy, at first. When the scene hasn’t grown explicit yet, and you can pretend you’re only reading the text out loud to yourself like you always do, making sure the sentences sound right. But Valentino makes it hard for you to distract yourself entirely. He rubs circles on the skin of your thigh, and the smoke from his pipe has long since been the only thing you can smell. The red smoke makes your head a little hazier, tongue a little looser— Though that all just might be because you’re not getting enough oxygen. Your every muscle is tense and, you think, this is what being a prey animal must feel like. The first time you stutter out the word ‘cock’, Valentino barks out a laugh, loud and sudden, entirely contrasting with the sultry demeanour he’s been putting on the whole time. You jump, gaze flickering from the screen to his face, before continuing. It gets worse when you realise exactly what story you’re reading out loud to him, one of the ones you’d never even posted anywhere, so utterly self-indulgent and poorly thought out that you regret it with every ounce of your being. (Unbeknownst to you, Vox has already read every draft you’ve ever typed up, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“Sorry, can I maybe, um, read a different one?” You practically squeak out. “I realised I have some better drafts, and…” “No,” Valentino shuts you down, tone temporarily harsh. “Don’t get too fucking cocky now, you’re already taking up enough time as it is. Shit’s about to get interesting, finally.” He’s saying all of this as if he wasn’t the one to drag you there in the first place.

So you trudge onward, reading as fast as you possible can, just trying to tough it out. As you read about a scared, unaccomplished demonic main character catching the eye of a trio of some of the most famous demons in town—through entirely unrealistic circumstances—you can see his grin grow wider from the corner of your eye. His nails dig into the flesh of your thigh, the smoke surrounding your face turning to caress your cheeks.

“So, let me gets this straight… You wrote about a trio of powerful demons with matching names, taking turns fucking an absolute nobody silly. One of them’s a pimp, the other a fashion designer, and the other a business man.” Valentino doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Greedy little slut. You even chose this one specifically to read out to me, huh? Seems I got you all wrong,” he hisses out. “This must be a dream come true for you, isn’t it?”

Let’s just say that you got enough ‘material’ to write another four or so stories, just from that line alone.

----- A drop of love potion, and models always behave the absolute best, or so Velvette thinks! (As long as you don’t put in too much. It’s very hard to take good pictures when the girls keep trying to kiss you.) No bitching, no whining, only an easy to pose, cute demon to work with. And if she dresses you up in clothes that reveal more than they obscure, purely for her own enjoyment and usage, who’s going to blame her?

Certainly not you. You won’t remember a single damn thing. Not even the parts where you babble on about how pretty and gorgeous and cool she is, and how you’ve admired her for so long— All things she’s heard a million times before. Normally, she wouldn’t care less about it, but such words coming from someone with only a drop of her potion in her system means they’re all the absolute truth. She thinks it’s almost cute when it’s coming from you, really. ------------ Vox, on the other hand, would be more likely to use his hypnosis on you than a love potion. Just to have a few minutes in the middle of a meeting where you’re practically putty in his hands, all of your usual anxiety and shame having slid right off of your shoulders. He doesn’t feel any guilt about it whatsoever. Having read all of your works, he finds it safe to say that this is the exact kind of scenario you would enjoy…

And even if you didn’t, he still would. He gets a bit of a thrill out of the loopy, relaxed smile on your face as you nuzzles your cheeks against his arm, professing all of the thoughts you had about him before working at VoxTech, and the ones you still have today. It’s during one of these exact moments, that he’d likely find out that Valentino had fucked you already, something he hadn’t found necessary to mention. They’ll have a bit of a discussion about that later!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #vox x reader #velvette x reader #cw.drugging #cw.noncon #cw.dubcon

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awniie · 1 year ago

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ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ skincare with choso

content: fluff that’s literally it (also not proof-read) ⠂°⠄🕯

note: i love him sm <3

“What’s this for?” Your boyfriend choso asks, eyes squinting as he reads the label on the tall bottle filled with toner. “That’s just toner…it tones your face and gives it a more even appearance.” You educated him, while continuing to rub an oil cleanser over your face. “Oh..” he said slowly and you stifled a laugh. Your boyfriend had followed you into the bathroom while you were doing your skincare routine. He’s always thought that this stuff was pretty weird and pointless, but of course it would seem perfectly absurd when you had perfect skin like him. He had not a single dark spot nor freckle, only the black tattoo across his nose and his eye circles. You envied his skin. He was literally a man, what did he need perfect glass skin for?

Choso sat on the closed lid of the toilet as he watched you finish your skincare. There were always so may different products you had on the bathroom vanity, he barely understood why you need any skincare, much less a whole counter-full. Nonetheless, he liked watching you do your routine. It was always consistent and oddly comforting to watch. So, he wanted to try it too. As you finished moisturizing your face, you felt a gentle tug on your shirt. You look down and, there was boyfriend. Staring up at you all hopeful-eyed. “Can I try your..skincare? He asked. God, he was just perfect. You couldn’t say no to his curious eyes and sweet voice so you gave in. “Of course Cho.”

You spoiled your boyfriend terribly. You had gotten out all your favorite ( and unnecessary ) products out just for him. You pulled out sheet after sheet of face masks of every scent, texture and purpose. Out of the bathroom drawer came a pink, fluffy headband that you put around his head. You had scrubs, sponges, humidifiers and everything in between. What he’d thought might be relatively simple had you acting like a five year old that had found herself in the toy aisle of the store. You rubbed different creams over his pale skin, your warm hands contrasting the cold solutions. You’d coo and praise him for staying still or just ‘for having such great skin.’ You made sure to tell him what everything was doing and that it was all safe, but he couldn’t care less about what was on his face. He was just enjoying your soft kisses, warm touches and loving words.

“So this mask helps bring back moisture to your skin.” “Mhmmm” “And this one makes your face look all glowy and- Choso are you even listening?” You accused, watching as his eyelids fluttered back open. “Yes love, I’m sorry. J’s was enjoying this a little too much.”

ㅤ

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arcaneacolyte · 1 year ago

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May I Present: The Ghouls as Quirks My or My Close friends' Animals Have Exhibited:

**Alpha**: Favorite game is "oh look how sneaky I am, stealing the thing you're doing/playing with so I can play with it" but gets SO mad when it's done to him.

**Omega**: Can't help but make the "stinky" big cat face when he smells something he doesn't like. He can't hide it if he tried.

**Mist**: If she touches a texture she wasn't expecting, she basically jumps out of her skin and onto the nearest elevated surface.

**Zephyr**: Despite having good night vision, has *terrible* lowlight vision, so if they see something at dusk that's unfamiliar? Instant hackles up and growling. Turns out it's just a garbage bag.

**Ifrit**: Upon first meeting someone, is all guard dog and grumpy and "Don't touch me", but once you scritch around his horns and ears, he loves you forever and will trail after you wanting more pets, tail wagging.

**Aether**: Very friendly, but if someone he knows puts on a hat or changes their silhouette in any way? Stranger Danger, who the fuck are you?!

**Dewdrop**: Must be in an hot bed, in an hot house, in an hot climate. Will steal any coals he finds to either eat or rub his face against.

**Mountain**: If he hasn't worn shoes in a while (which is usually any time outside of touring) and he has to put some on, he waggles and high steps weird for a while because he can't feel the ground.

**Rain**: Thunder and lightening or fireworks? No problem, unbothered and can sleep like the dead. Balloons in any form? Pure Evil and must be destroyed.

**Swiss**: Literally an escape artist, cannot be contained if you tried. They put a camera in a containment room to try to see how he escapes and they still can't even figure it out.

**Phantom/Aeon**: No eye self preservation. Doesn't close his eyes when water gets poured on him, will not shut them when you threaten to poke them. It's so bad that he's had multiple eye tests to see if he has poor vision, but his vision is perfect.

**Cirrus**: Got one of her nails cut down too close to the quick ONE time and now refuses to get her nails trimmed and will run or fuss if its determined she needs a trim. Has to be asleep or put under sedatives to get them done.

**Cumulus**: Is completely fine with getting a bath or shower, but hates going out in the rain. Also, to her, water is water no matter how gross it is and she WILL try to drink it if she's thirsty enough.

**Sunshine**: Will get excited and get all up in other peoples' faces, then suddenly panic and get upset that their face is too close to hers. She might snap at them because of it.

**Aurora**: Has very sensitive ears and gets very upset at loud noises, but has a hard time self regulating and the only thing that will help is the Ghoul version of a happy hoodie. Unfortunately she doesn't think she can move her neck while she's wearing it, so she turns her head like 1989 Batman.

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plasticfreckles · 10 days ago

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🪶 think-ception masturbation rookanis enjoy 🪶

He knows why his entire being feels off. Too much wine, too much coffee, paired with too little food and too little rest.

It dulls his mind, clouds his judgement. Makes him cold in the feet and warm in the face. Stirs something else.

As numb as his brain is, he can't forget the sight of Rook during battle, moving the same as any Crow and yet somehow substantially more graceful than anything he'd ever seen, even though it moved her hairpart from just above her right ear to the middle of her crown, had her chest heaving trying to catch breath and a ghost of sweat forming on her forehead. There's a flash of green and purple from the depths of her cleavage and her many necklaces stick to her freckled skin.

She'd caught him looking at her, with her wide eyes and unnervingly steady gaze, mid-fight, and flashed him a quick, but all the more genuine smile before she ducked away from an incoming suckerpunch and pinned the Venatori to the shack behind them with their own blade through their shoulder.

With an almost nonchalant gesture, she'd flicked her part back above her ear, though her curls were dripping with rain and blood and sticking to her skull from the center again by the end of the skirmish.

Her gleaming aura, despite all their struggles, despite her being soaked to the bone with the diluted blood of others, stayed with him the entire day.

And so did she. Wiped down the dining table, set the dishes, refilled the water carafes. She'd briefly, fleetingly touched his forearm as she moved past him in that small cooking corner of the hall, reaching for the balsamic and the herb salt, fingers lingering for barely more than a heartbeat, but the memory of their weight on his skin burning like acid in his throat.

If she has anything to say about how he doesn't stop to enjoy the fine wine, doesn't stop to consider the texture of the pasta sauce, she doesn't mention it. She'll probably chalk it up to a long day, or Spite being especially grating, and patiently wait for Lucanis to come to her for venting of his own volition.

Though, to be fair, Spite is especially grating tonight, oscillating around her so closely that Lucanis cannot look away to ignore him. To ignore Spite would also mean to ignore Rook, and she's done nothing wrong.

Next time you sleep, Spite taunts, trying to go for Rook's eartip with his teeth but catching hair instead. Rook doesn't know the way a strand of purple sticks out from her head just behind her ear. I will tell her.

Absolutely not, Lucanis replies, in this strange space they share inside his mind where he does not speak out loud, but Spite hears him anyway.

Rook won't mind. She won't hurt you. Doesn't want you hurt. I'm not hurting, I'm longing. You're hurting. Us both. Rook will help.

Lucanis knows that Spite's correct, and that's what's truly terrifying him. If he asked, she would, with no regard about what it might mean for her.

Rook picks up her plate, then his, then Bellara's, puts them on the tablet and walks off into the strange, ceilingless scullery.

Spite follows like a shade behind her, crouching down when she stops to open the door, tablet balanced against her hip to free a hand.

She smells of it again. Spite's words are muffled, somehow, inside his mind, as he pushes his nose between Rook's buttcheeks. Smells like you. Between her legs. Coffee and cologne and stupid useless longing. Don't be ridiculous. There's no way.

Even if he meant it in a literal way, that would mean Rook snuck into his things and put his cologne on her genitalia, and she's smart enough to know that's a terrible idea. And Lucanis would probably smell it himself. He never uses much of it, but the cedarwood is rather pungent. There's no cedar in the Fade.

Yes, she does. Smells like you. You smell like her, between your legs. Soil and chocolate and comfort.

Lucanis knows for a fact he hasn't snuck into Rook's things, and he's not worked with chocolate in days.

She does it. Thinks about you. Wants us to touch her. The scullery door is long closed, but Spite still crouches by the door, knees by his ears and hands on the floor.

His mind wanders, before he can stop himself, to fingers sneaking into pants, to hair over cushions, curling toes and cheeks pressed into fabric.

The inseam of his slacks starts to feel uncomfortable against the swelling muscle.

Lucanis pours himself some more wine.

When he finds himself on his cot, he doesn't fight himself as his hands slip under his clothes, as his mind walks out of the pantry, across the grounds and into the Lighthouse.

Imagining himself perched on that green sofa he's at most seen five times is a lot easier, suddenly. Somehow. Because right now, he's more alcohol and caffeine than flesh and blood, probably.

He doesn't feel dirty or wrong for thinking of her, this time. He knows he should, now more than ever before.

Because this time, his fantasies have her naked, her knees by her face and a hand between her legs.

He can't find it in himself to care.

Her hair is parted from the center, her chest heaving and a ghost of sweat on her forehead. Her necklaces pile up in the dip of her neck, the green and purple crumpled up somewhere in his periphery.

This Rook twirls her nipples the same moment he touches his own, claws her fingers into the supple flesh of her freckled breasts and pulls her knees a little closer to herself.

What exactly she looks like, between her legs, Lucanis can't imagine, but she runs a wet forefinger around her clit in quick, tight circles. Her legs uncurl, her toes flex against his leg, she pushes the back of her head into the cushion beneath her. Her moan is quiet and choked.

It makes him reach around his sack and squeeze.

If this were real (it isn't, it can't ever be), he'd lean over and kiss her open mouth, uncaring of their teeth colliding or the strain in his low back, maybe dare to let go of himself and let her teach him what she needs. He'd feel the soft warmth of her chest under his, the give of her ass as he lifts her legs, one over his hip, the other over the back of the sofa. She'd complain about the way her heel collides with the bookshelf behind that, but there'd be no bite to it, and the brief pain would be forgotten by the time his hand finds her and hers finds him.

But it isn't real, so he contents himself with the thrill of his imagination. He pumps into his hand once, twice, and Fantasy Rook curls two fingers into her wet, glistening cunt.

They fuck themselves in sync. Unceremoniously, almost, with no thought other than taking the edge off. That edge she likes to walk so close to her toes dangle in the air.

And yet, there's something so enchanting, so seductive and effective about it that his decorum has long ago given up the fight.

When he thrusts slow, her fingers still and she grinds down, and when she returns her attentions to her clit, his own fingers move to his balls.

He whispers her name more than once, when he wipes up what he leaks already, tries to use it for the wet of her he can't have.

She's at the same time, more vocal than him and not. She tries his name more than once, when her thumb pushes into her clit just right or her pulls on her nipple shoots that delicious lightning up her spine, but then her voice breaks over the second syllable and she struggles to catch air between thrusts. His nipples abandoned, he runs a finger along his trail, and Rook moves to work clit and cunt at once.

The thought of her breaking with his name in her mouth, thinking of him as she chases her high, maybe pretending it's his fingers pushing her over the edge is what makes him break, writhing and whining.

In his mind, she's flushed pink all over, her chest is heaving, some hair sticks to the sweat on her brow. Her eyes are half-closed and glassy.

She looks so happy.

He turns his face to his side, tries to choke the sounds out of him with what he can reach of his pillow.

He wakes some time later, both hands still in his pants, even somewhat rested for once.

After cleaning himself up the best he can without water or towel or change of clothes, he walks out of the pantry to see Rook, already armed with breakfast and having an animated conversation with Davrin.

She smiles at him, small and tired and close-lipped, around her spoon.

"Good morning, Lucanis," she says, nodding toward him just barely.

"Good morning, Rook. Davrin."

Her hair's parted down the middle and a hint of green and purple lace peeks out the deep cleavage of her shirt.

"You were in my dreams last night."

🪶

@victias slow but steady or whatever <3

part 2 to this, based on this

I have no excuse exept im v horny for this man.

[~rina]

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kakashixhatakesxwhore · 5 months ago

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A Dream From Another Universe

Pairing: Itachi x f!Reader

Summary: Itachi from the canon universe has a dream, about how things could've been if other things were different.

W/c: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing? Lil touch of angst? Nm.

A/n: given kakashi and itachi tied and won that lil vote i did, here's this! anyway, lmk how y'all feel, it's supposed to be bittersweet.

Masterlist💿

And, suddenly, it was the early evening.

Dark oak furniture was scattered around the living room, accompanied by a mix-matched variety of sitting pieces. A purple, crushed velvet arm chair sat on one side, while a pink-green-and-white recliner resided on the other. They framed a plaid couch that faced a roaring fire. From somewhere in the room, probably from one of the overflowing bookshelves, a sickly soft piano melody drifted through the air; such a vivid sound, Itachi could nearly see the soundwaves as they came.

He didn't question the homely scene; simply, he enjoyed the warmth, and thanked every star he knew the name of.

Nightmares tortured Itachi, too horrifying and heart-wrenching for the true level of the feelings to ever be conveyed by any verbiage. They carried on to his waking hours - though his world had become a blur, the memories came back clear as day. Itachi deserved it, every terrible feeling, and he knew it well.

But, this was not a nightmare.

And Itachi hoped to imprint this scene into his mind - even if it was only a hazy dream, and he had never seen that furniture nor heard that music before in his life.

However, he wasn't entirely sure he deserved... this.

Especially when your fuzzy figure materialized in the middle of the plaid couch, your head tucked down. Glistening in the firelight's reflection, your hair curtained your face, a little longer than Itachi remembered it to have been.

His heart stuttered within his chest, clenching with the force of a thousand lonely nights.

Just as he began to begrudge you for hiding your face from him, your head turned so casually, but with such a remarkable grace that this was surely you.

"Come 'ere, Itachi," you purred, your voice just as melodic as he remembered.

Hearing his name from your lips brought him to life within the dream.

Without speaking, he swept over to you, making long strides across the foreign living room. As he moved, he drank in every feature of yours, the features that made his heart pound, those that he hadn't seen in years, but could never, ever, forget.

Stars above, you were beautiful.

So, very beautiful.

He sat on the couch, taking the cushion to your right, still silent, while a deep frown carved onto his face. You let Itachi stare at you, doing so with such a gentle smile.

As he looked into your eyes, he noticed every star he had longed to see, within them, twinkling with adoration.

Itachi's heart ached within it's prison. How badly he missed making you smile, how awfully he yearned to watch the glimmer in your eye. The slopes of your cheeks were so perfectly defined by the firelight, while it also smoothed your skin to a marble texture. You resembled a statue, a carving; something that an artist poured hundreds of hours into to render entirely perfect.

"What's the matter, sweet boy?" You chuckled after an unknown amount of time had passed.

That... cripes, Itachi felt like he could cry. He would do anything just to hear that little pet name on his conscious ear.

What a fool, Itachi was. He claimed to hate that name, way back when; but, now, he was dreaming about those words. A strange brand of self-hatred came over him, tinged with guilt. Why could he not have made more time for you? Why-

"I-ta-chi," you enunciated in a sing-song voice, bringing Itachi's eyes to your lips. "Talk to me - you seem totally spaced."

"I'm okay," he whispered. "Don't worry about me."

You shook your head and reached over your lap, grabbing the bookmark that rested on the coffee table. As you slotted it between your pages, you chuckled, "I always worry about you, my sweet, sweet boy."

Were you dreaming about him? Was that why he was having this dream?

No, Itachi thought. That sounded too hopeful.

Besides, this could still turn into a nightmare, the other shoe could still drop.

"Are you... is it happening again?" You asked with a certain compassion in your cadence that made Itachi's shoulders relax.

He shook his head, "Is what happening again?"

With a slight huff, you heaved the book onto the coffee table, then turned yourself to face Itachi fully, crossing your legs on the couch.

"Which nocturne is playing, right now?"

The question caught him off guard.

Hesitantly, he shrugged, "The... third... nocturne?"

You sighed, and he knew he answered wrong, "What about yesterday? Do you remember what we did?"

"No," he answered honestly, but so very intrigued. "What did we do yesterday?"

"Well," you started with a smile. "You won three tickets for a baseball game, so you, Shisui, and Sasuke went to the ballpark, yesterday." As you drew breath, Itachi's lips quirked. "You hell-raisers came back here, post-game, and I made dinner. A nice okonomiyaki for everyone."

"Oh, yeah?" Itachi murmured, no edge in his voice at all, just sheer tantalization.

You grinned, capturing his eyes with yours, full of stars, "Yeah."

"Then, what happened?" Itachi asked, though he didn't even recognize the gentleness in his tone.

"Then, we played a few rounds of dice," you laughed lightly, shaking your head as if you couldn't believe Itachi was having you revise the night. "I stole the pot twice, and Shisui declared that I was cheating. I wasn't, of course, but I dropped out and came over here, anyway, until the boys left. After that-" You shrugged, "-we shared a nightcap, before we got nice and cuddled-up for the night."

Fuck, this really was a dream.

Itachi was left to merely wonder how his mind could possibly conjure up something so...

"That sounds..." He searched for the word, but the one he wished for didn't exist. Shaking his head with a small smile, Itachi sighed, "Perfect."

"I bet," you mumbled, looking over his face carefully, your gaze as light as a feather. "I think my Itachi and I have the best lives of any of us, and that's why this always happens to him. Do you speak to your me?"

What?

"I beg your pardon?" Itachi said, voice confused and almost child-like as his brain fizzed.

You just smiled, and simply told him, "It's like a gift, to you, I suppose... Sometimes, when my Itachi gets too tired, too stressed, too whatever, one of you comes to me. You, like, switch places."

Okay, now his brain was really starting to lose the plot of the dream. It was going so well-

"I'll have you, for a little while," you went on. "And you'll have me, for a little while. It's like the stars are giving you a taste of the good life - one of you called it a reprieve, I think."

"I'm sorry," Itachi huffed, a short laugh in his breath. He shook his head, "I really don't understand."

"That's quite alright, sweetheart, you don't need to. All you need to know is that I love you, and your me loves you - and an infinite number of other versions of us love each other, too."

Perhaps untrue, hopefully not - Itachi was just happy to hear you speak, and to hear such foreign words of adoration.

You grinned peacefully, "So, what do you think?"

"Think about what?" He asked.

Motioning around the living room, you laughed, "What do you think of our place? What do you think of me? How does all of this compare to you and your Y/n?"

"I think you have a lovely home," Itachi started slowly, looking around the room. "And I think... you are lovely." His eyes returned to yours and Itachi couldn't help but smile as he said, "But I can't bring myself to compare our situations."

"Probably for the best," you sighed contentedly. Then, looking at Itachi with a cocked brow, you asked, "What do you want to do, Itachi?"

A hundred- no, a thousand things flitted through his mind.

What did he want to do? With you, anything.

"I- I don't..." Fool, this is a golden opportunity. "I just... I want to hear you speak, that's all."

"What do you want me to speak about?"

"Tell me about us, about our lives, together."

"Well, tomorrow, we're..."

It was spectacular.

Itachi was amazed.

He doubted the overall verity of the situation, as one should - but, there was no doubt in his mind that this was the most splendid gift he had ever received. If there were other universes, with other Itachi's and other Y/n's, he was glad that at least some of them seemed to be living the way he wished. Not everything in every universe could be a bowl of peaches and cream, but it was a real motherfucker that this Itachi had to go through the muck and back, and to still be one of the ones who lost you along the way.

For what felt like both six hours, and six minutes, you verbally illustrated the grand adventures the two of you had gone on, and about the adventures you had planned.

It truly was everything he had dreamed about, and a strange jealousy had crept it's way up Itachi's neck.

"And, guess what," you prompted, legs stretched out over Itachi's lap as you spoke on and on.

"What?" He acquiesced, his fingers lightly drawing obscure shapes on the thin skin of your shin, letting his eyes trace every line in your smile.

With an extension of your left hand, Itachi ripped his eyes away from your face to see a rather large, diamond ring on your fourth finger. It glimmered and shone, seemingly polished to the exact standard of blinding reflection. Upon your hand, the ring almost seemed heavy, and numbers started flying through Itachi's mind as he assessed the piece of jewelry, pondering the monetary and karat worth of the rock alone.

"We're getting married in the Autumn," you told him as he gently took your hand in his to get an even closer look at the ring. "You proposed here, at home - then, we went on a proposal tour."

Allowing himself to laugh lightly, Itachi repeated, "Proposal tour?"

"Yeah," you beamed. "We went around to our favourite places and you proposed to me again and again. We got a bunch of free desserts out of it, and a lots of our favourite shopkeepers are regularly giving us discounts, now."

"Who thought that up?" He asked, letting the lopsided smile rest on his face.

Taking your hand back, you motioned to yourself from head to toe and claimed, "Yours truly."

Itachi laughed again, though the vibrations almost felt as foreign as this living room. You smiled, eyes dancing around his face like he was the one who possessed a priceless beauty. The two of you stayed like that for a little while, yet - merely staring at each other, with gentle grins plastered on both of your faces.

Until...

"You have to wake up, now, Itachi," you hummed, sitting up properly as you looked at him with such a gorgeous, bittersweet smile. He never wanted to forget your smile, nor the way your lips wrapped around his name so softly, again, "Itachi."

"Why?" He asked, forlorn.

Meekly, you giggled and told him, "I miss my Itachi."

"I don't want to leave you," he said, almost petulant, but with a candied voice, thick with a heavy array of emotion. "I don't... I don't even see my Y/n, I just... I miss her."

You chuckled warmly, "I wish you had more time with her, sweet boy."

"Me too," he murmured in defeat. "I love you."

"I'm sure I love you, too."

Before he could offer any further farewell, his vision went white, then suddenly black.

He could smell a wet metallic tinge in the air, and he sighed quietly as he laid in the cave, not wanting to open his eyes, for fear of losing the image of you that was seared into the insides of his eyelids.

Itachi missed you terribly.

#itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #uchiha itachi x reader #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi fanfic #itachi fanfiction #itachi naruto

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endursent · 2 months ago

Text

- God Shattering Star

【 content; morax | rex lapis x reader , slow burn , mutual pining , multi-chapter , archon war period , afab!reader 】

【 note sorry this is also late i had to redo this chapter like 3 times cause i wasn't happy with it, i should stop re-reading a song of ice and fire while writing this 'cause i keep comparing my dialogue skills with fucking george rr martin and feel sad ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡ | read on ao3 】

【 word count; 6.016 | previous chapter - next chapter | masterlist 】

- Chapter 8 - Consumption

You barely recognise life anymore—or anything for that matter. You feel sick, sticky and heavy, as if your body is full of liquids in every crevice. The world around you feels lighter than you yourself do, like you’re sinking below it and perpetually struggling to reach upwards to grasp at the people staring down at you from around the cot.

Ming Hui sets her hand on your stomach, and a pain so consuming you thrash and scream overrides any thought or consciousness. Hands hold you down to prevent you from hurting yourself or anyone else as the smaller girl tears (at least that’s what it feels like to you) blackened liquids and blood from the lacerations on your belly.

You throw up every day, most of the time several times a day, nights are filled with shivers and huddling under blankets when you try to close your eyes to sleep—and wake in the middle of the night, soaked with sweat and fever.

One night, you had a terrible dream—you’ve been having many bad dreams, terrible, suffocating dreams. Nightmares. You woke up to two pairs of hands shaking your shoulders, clapping your cheeks lightly in hopes of waking you before you hurt yourself.

Another night, you couldn’t sleep, you kept seeing dark snakes slither between beds—you told yourself that they aren’t real, there are no snakes so high in the mountain of Liyue… they are far more common between the mountains, in thick forests with plenty of opportunities for food for their size.

They never approach your bed, one circles around it before disappearing behind a shelf of ointments. Later the same morning, exhausted and dozing from a sleepless night, you thought you saw a white snake under the bandage around your left arm looking at you, you reached out to pet it, but it slid back inside. Into your bandages. Into your skin.

The week drags on for what feels like several of them. Every morning, Ming Hui would perform a cleanse and try to purify parts of your body to keep the miasma from spreading into it, but you weren’t sure how much it was helping, at least, you didn’t start feeling better until a week and a half after the seven days of cleansing.

With a groan, you prop yourself up and get into a sitting position, fumbling to grab one of the seven or so books on the table next to the cot, you let it fall open onto your lap. Staring at the ceiling is impossibly boring, and you hope your body is giving you some energy to use your brain at least a little. The book doesn’t have a name on the cover, nor does it look like a printed book—it’s full of handwriting and for a moment you thought Guizhong might have accidentally lent you a diary… but as you squint and read further, you see that it’s something of a logbook.

Documentation of a crew’s trip on the sea, the management of resources and the direction of the winds… it’s a surprisingly soothing read, you craft the ship in your mind and imagine the soothing brush of waves against the wood, sun beating down and warming the skin.

You open your eyes again as a healer touches your shoulder and asks to see your left arm again, you didn’t even realise you fell asleep. The prickly sensation of their fingers prodding at your arm is strange, like it’s felt through a few layers of clothing… you can feel it, but just kind of. You feel like you used to be able to tell what texture was touching you—a finger or a glove, the grass or floor. But now it all feels like the same kind of poking. You feel trembling, like the bed is trying to shake you off, but you're not cold.

You feel a fragment of dread every time Ming Hui comes up to your bed, but thankfully the last few times, she’s just been bringing you things. Doughy snacks from the capital, some sesame balls from the kitchens, papers and ink to draw on, anything. Unfortunately none of the foods or snacks stick in your belly for long… but it’s nice to taste them, if only a small nibble with the front of your teeth and a poke of your tongue.

It has been a long morning, you had woken up early due to your back starting to hurt because you’ve been laying down for so long—you really wish you could start to walk around, but even just sitting up feels like you’re leaving half your organs behind on your mattress… you look up as you hear footsteps approach and see a familiar face, though not one you expected.

Cloud Retainer—rather roughly—takes your arm and lifts it up vertically, you make a strange startled, as well as surprised sound and try to tug it back, but she holds it firmly. Ground Mender follows behind and sighs. “Be gentle,” she scolds.

“Hmph, a sound of pain merely shows there’s still feeling in the limb,” she moves it horizontally and squeezes the sides of your elbow, you have no idea what she’s doing. “Squeeze into a fist for me.”

You do as she asks, curling your fingers as much as you can—it’s not a very good squeeze, if any, but you manage to curl them into a fist with trembling fingers, your fist twitches from the effort. “Like this?”

“Hm, good enough,” she nods and begins to undo the bandage. You look at Ground Mender, but she doesn’t seem to stop the other adeptus, so surely it’s okay… the bandages have been changed many times, but you’ve always been either been half-asleep or too out of it to pay attention to it. The white cloth falls away from your skin and reveals a rather uncomfortable sight—your arm looks like it’s been through the ringer. The skin is uneven and looks more like crumpled parchment stretched over bone than the arm you’re more familiar with, the deep wounds were beginning to close but you could still clearly see the raised edges where it separated, having been knit together twice.

It’s a mangled, uncomfortable thing, your fingers twitch and a dull tug pulls at your senses where you think your joints should be—as if the entire arm was misaligned, off-kilter.

Cloud Retainer turns your arm wrist up and then wrist down, looks at it with a scrutinising eye behind those red-rimmed glasses. You wonder if adepti need glasses or if it’s just fashion.

“What are you searching for?” you ask, your arm is tired, being raised like that for so long. You want to let it lay down and rest.

The adeptus pokes your palm with a sharp nail and your fingers twitch again, your eyebrows furrow in mild annoyance… you can only tolerate being prodded at without explanation for so long. Finally, she graces you with an answer. “The miasma is concentrated heavily in your arm, most of what was in your stomach has been pulled out… but there is little to do with this part here.”

You look down at your arm… it doesn’t look as rotted as you recall others’ bodies would become after as long as it has stayed in your arm. A bit discoloured, maybe… just, different. “Little to do? Extraction has never failed… can’t we just dig in and drag it out…?” you don’t have the energy or capacity to recount a lengthy process, but cleansing has never failed you—you have yet to find an object or person who was too far gone.

And surely, you are not…?

Cloud Retainer wraps your arm again carefully, you see the golden eyes of a snake staring at you from between the bandages.

“Then… what do we do?” you ask as if there was something for you to do. You can barely hold your arm at chest-height for too long.

Cloud Retainer holds her hand out to Ground Mender, who hands her the familiar wooden board someone is always holding when standing by your bed. “Observe for now, the miasma is contained below your elbow—” you look at the ink on your arm, locked. “—and it doesn't seem to be rotting the skin, it’s stagnant.”

You were better for a while, and got worse again.

You could imagine the ship, high tides and low, rocking among the waving ocean—a peek of sunlight. Two suns, warmth and stability. A calm sea surrounded by raging waters.

The perpetual taste of bile stings the back of your throat, it’s a wonder if you aren’t in danger of malnourishment—you’re unsure you’ve kept down a meal in three weeks. Your head swims and you get nauseous if you lie down, you’re nauseous if you sit up. The world spins when you try to stand, even with attendants insisting you move your legs and body to prevent clotting from forming in your feet. You are practically hauled onto a cart of some sort that holds only your upper body, when strength slips between your fingers and you slide off—only just barely caught by the attendants and brought back to bed, they decide to just assign someone to apply pressure to your feet instead to promote blood flow.

It’s strange… it’s all treatment and techniques you’ve familiarised yourself with over the last months you’ve been working for the capital. But it feels so foreign to be on the receiving end.

Like a rocking ship, you managed to down some foods one morning—and kept them down over lunch time, for the first time in… how long has it been? You feed some of the congee to a smaller snake by your bedside.

Everyone around you seemed very excited, but you didn’t have the energy to return it—you know in your heart and gut that it could change at any moment… your day moves slowly as you flip the page of a rather difficult book Cloud Retainer gave to you, it’s only about half writing and the rest is just numbers. Your eyes rise when you see Morax approaching your bed, and you straighten instinctively—he has something in his hand, a bamboo food basket with a long handle. “Good afternoon,” he greets evenly and takes a foldable table that’s used to prop on the bed to allow patients to eat there. He sets the basket on the table over your lap—over your book—and steps away again… Morax has been very quiet recently, and you’re unsure why. You would never say you know him well, you are just barely on greeting or chatting terms, but you still feel a sense that something weighs on his mind.

He returns again with a spoon. “Zhou’s son recently made travels to the west, and on my walk through the streets, the old man demanded I try some cuisine his son had studied there. This is supposed to be easily digestible,” Morax takes your right hand, despite it being very much healthy and mobile. His slender fingers slide below your wrist and lift your hand where he lays the spoon against your upturned palm, your fingers instinctively curl around the cutlery despite the fact that your eyes aren’t watching it. His expression is firm, stiff and stony.

“It’s not dinner time yet,” you’re not sure why you said it, perhaps the silence was uncomfortable, or you want his gaze to leave your torso and rise to meet yours.

He blinks, there are so many things on his mind that it gets pulled away even in the respite he’s taking in bringing you food. “Yes, my apologies. Master Zhou was rather insistent that I stop by and taste his son’s food no matter the time of day, he said finding me during meal hours is too complicated,” Morax lets go of your arm and his hand goes to the basket, he takes the top off and the dish out.

While the congee you ate this morning was nice and light on your stomach—this dish was a pale yellow as opposed to the white of the congee. It smelled warm and comforting but mild, like a stone left under the midday sun, a hot spring on a cold winter’s day in the mountains where the flakes melt against your cheeks, but your body and shoulders are enveloped in a warmed watery blanket.

You stop staring at the dish and stick your spoon into it, it’s soft and moist, the rice separate easily as you scoop a small bite past your lips, careful not to have too much at a time—your stomach has traumatised you over the week by acting up over the smallest thing.

“Ground Mender and Cloud Retainer surmised that though initially we thought enough of the miasma had been cleared from around your organs, your body is still too weak to push out the rest by itself,” Morax finds a stool to sit on next to your bed, not wanting to intrude on the mattress itself. In your convinced state, the bed is your only privacy space that only feels more confined when the curtains are closed around it.

The bite of food fills your mouth—and though your taste buds are extra sensitive now with not eating a lot of foods for so long… licking a sesame ball doesn’t count for much, it tastes very much like the warm embrace the smell and temperature brings. The rice is soft and nearly dissolves on your tongue, the creamy texture of the bite spreading in your mouth and down your throat—it’s five times more warming and powerful than a sip of warm water to smooth out your scrunchy stomach. It gets to work and you instantly feel a sense of ease.

Morax watches you as you lick your lips, dipping the spoon again. “What is it? It’s very nice,” you ask as you take another—now a fuller spoon—of the surprising dish.

“Khichdi,” Morax says the word carefully, as if he were trying to mimic a pronunciation. “After master Zhou’s son returned, a lot of the dishes he learned to make have become very popular in the neighbourhood.”

You hum, you can see why—the flavour is very unique, even if it’s not very strong, it’s likely made with ingredients not found in the Guili Assembly. “Some vegetables could add to it,” you muse to yourself, but quickly try and correct yourself. “I-I mean, it’s very good like this, thank you—”

Morax, however, seemed sheepish for a moment. “Ah… there are vegetables in it… but master Zhou asked for your preference and I couldn’t answer, I deemed it safer to ask them to chop a chosen few of them into… miniscule pieces, in case chewing would be discomforting, or you didn’t like the taste.”

You look down at the bowl, sure enough, there are specs of green and red—how small can you even chop a vegetable?! This looks like a crumb of salt, you think as you squint at a tiny flake of red on your spoon between two grains of rice… your taste buds are in shambles, even just the flavours of this was making it difficult to tell the ingredients, though there are some you have never tasted before. “Ah, thank you for your consideration,” you say before setting another—now spoonful—in your mouth. You almost wish you had bread now, when even two days ago you couldn’t even think about food without your stomach curling up.

Another silence lingers, but it’s not uncomfortable—not waiting or hesitant. You slowly eat while Morax sits, he looks around the calm ward, it’s usually only used in dire circumstances—when the usual infirmary tucked on the first floor on his side between the palaces is full, you’re the only patient being tended to now. “Perhaps you will soon be ready to go above ground,” Morax says absently, not turning his head to you yet.

“Hm? Someone could surely carry me there now, I can try walking again,” you say after a swallow, realising you were eating a bit too fast, you slowed down; your grandmother wouldn’t have you consuming a meal made in kindness at breakneck speed without appreciating the flavour and effort.

“Though I’m glad you feel confident, I would rather avoid you hurting yourself,” Morax shakes his head slowly. “We will see what Ground Mender says in the morning, if you keep this down.”

You better, you tell yourself.

Morax stuck around until you finished, and he helped put away the wooden board as well as placed the bowl back into the basket which had been set aside. You expected him to leave, but he walks around the bed to the side of your injured arm and extends his own right hand. “May I?”

Raising your arm slowly, it stutters and jerks slightly, as if you were fighting against your own muscles for them to listen to your commands.Morax takes your arm kindly, treats it with a gentle touch you would expect from a seasoned healer… a soft glow emits from his hands and you feel their warmth seep into your skin, for a moment it is comforting, a taste of the khichdi from his hands to your skin.

But suddenly, it’s too hot—it burns.

You yank your arm back instinctively, as if you had laid it on a raging fire and not realised until the flames licked your skin. “Ah—” your right hand fingers dig into the bandage of your left arm, trying to squeeze away the pain, to inflict it differently and drain it out.

Morax tenses at the sudden reaction, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion you didn’t see long enough to discern. “What is it?” he asks with urgency, but he doesn’t touch you again. Not if it was his touch that was the cause of your startling. “Did I hurt you?”

“N-No,” you say quickly, but you’re not sure—it only happened because his fingers rested on your arm, but they were gentle, like leaves brushing against cobblestone in a drifting breeze. “What were you doing?”

You don’t mean for your question to sound accusing, you hope Morax doesn’t take it as such. He looks from your eyes down to your clutched arm, eyebrows pinched in thought. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little…” you mumble. Your arm tingles and your fingers tremble slightly, it has felt strangely cold—as opposed to the warmth that always emanated from corrupt skin, the miasma displaying symptoms of infections, because one corrupted is being infected.

“I was merely examining your energies, but as soon as I touched them…” he looked at his own hand. Your body had rejected his energies before—but they had not simply evaporated now, he was pushed back.

He does not like it.

You rub at your arm gently, nails scratching at the bandage now that you had the excuse. The bandage is wrapped so densely, your skin is moist and itchy. “Don’t scratch it,” Morax scolds as you do, and with a defeated sigh you look up at him again and tense.

There is an unmoving silence before you quickly look away again, but Morax saw the surprise and—fear? Concern?—on your face before you turned back to your arm. He says your name firmly, firmer than you’re sure you’ve heard before. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly. There was a snake around his shoulders. Writhing and wrapping around his throat.

They’re not real. You must just be malnourished, sick. Hallucinating.

Morax doesn’t react when the snake squeezes his neck.

It’s not real.

You pant, heart racing and pounding against your chest—you feel it so vividly you’re sure you could lay your fingers over your chest and pinch it when it presses between your ribs. You feel dizzy, and disoriented, eyes looking down to your left arm, it’s there—all fingers attached as usual.

Just seconds ago it had been red, open, you could reach out and touch the bone, you could wrap your fingers around it while your skin and muscles slipped off your arm and landed with a wet squelching sound on the floor.

You’ve been having nightmares again.

It doesn’t have any comprehensive or predictable patterns, one night your head is in the maws of a beast, another you’re drowning under a tidal wave of iron-tasting water, unable to breathe or see as it stings your eyes and burns your lungs. You squeeze your eyes shut, running your right hand over your face tightly, squishing your nose slightly with your palm.

It’s exhausting. The day is tiring enough already, and you find no solace in sleep. You don’t even have the luxury of turning from one side or the other, any position other than flat on your back feels like your intestines are going to spill out through your belly button.

You glance at the breakfast laid out for you, sitting on the bedside table as it cools. Congee and some bread… but you don’t feel hungry. Not for what feels like the hundredth bowl of congee, you haven’t returned your meals in a few days, but yet Ground Mender denied you when you asked if you could be brought above ground.

“We don’t have much space in the palace infirmary.”

“Did something happen?” you had asked, you hadn’t heard of anything, but you haven’t heard much of the outside world in a while.

Ground Mender changed the subject without telling you, and you were starting to feel that you were being kept alone in this massive hall for… what? You’re getting better, slowly, you managed to walk around your bed with some support, but you would never make it up the endless staircase leading to the sun-touched hallways.

It’s been a month and a half, according to an attendant that brought your breakfast. Your muscles have atrophied terribly and even just standing so someone can help you bathe is exhausting.

A hand touches your breakfast tray and you look up to see Moon Carver. It feels like every person you’ve met in the last months has been coming around to check on you… it’s strange. You’ve never stayed in one place for long enough for anyone to notice absent days of sickness, to inquire why you close your home off for cleansing for a week.

You had returned to a small village that specialised in silk weaving and no one had remembered your face, despite the fact you had discovered the foul energies poisoning a part of the nearby forest, which caused a devastating number of lost silkworms over the span of three years.

You had seen your reflection recently and didn’t recognise yourself either.

“Time to stretch your legs, come on,” the adeptus tilts his head for you to get up. “The more you skimp out, the longer it will take to build those muscles up again.”

If you don’t move, he’ll continue to pester you… you move the blanket off your lap and Moon Carver takes under your right elbow to help you stand. You’re steadier on your feet than you were before, but you always feel like your legs’ sense of balance is different from your mind’s.

“Starting to think you ask for babysitting duty,” you mumble, a poor attempt at humour as you take careful steps. You feel exhausted, but not like you would after running—there’s no burn, there’s no ache or cramp. You just feel like you’re going to slink down onto the floor like a dropped paper, swaying back and forth before gliding under a cabinet.

Moon Carver huffs, his grip is strong. “It’s not easy to say no to this one’s Lord.”

“Would you if it were?” you wonder why Morax would ask Moon Carver to check on you, surely he has more important things to do.

He doesn’t answer, changing the subject. You’ve started to notice that when an adeptus doesn’t want to tell you something, they will just become quiet or dodge your question. “Let us go towards the stairs and back.”

You frown. “All the way? It’s far…”

It’s barely thirty steps, sixty in total there and back. You’ve walked this distance without a thought several times, so many you can’t begin to imagine how often. Light on your feet, walking briskly with tools, trays or heavy baskets you are sure you couldn’t try to lift up now.

It seems so far, yet you know it’s not. You just have to put one foot in front of the other, not think, not look at the distance, look at your feet, the floor.

You’ve had different nightmares.

Strange, different.

Sinking below the claustrophobic, choking earth. Deeper into the iron water. Sinking. Watching the surface of the world like a reflection of sunlight from above the sea, blinding.

They’re vivid, but not scary.

Just strange. Different.

Not nightmares.

You wake and feel the warmth of the sun on your cheeks, it filters through oiled paper and you shift to your side. You don’t feel pain laying on your side anymore, but it’s not comfortable either… but you want to sleep, and the sun—though filtered—is in your eyes. You prefer to lay on your right side when you rarely roll, it’s easier if you have to sit up.

“Hmm, I would have thought you would be happy to see the sun?” Guizhong sets her hands on her hips, standing next to your bed suddenly—you didn’t hear her approach, but her preference to forgo shoes makes her footsteps very quiet.

You are happy to see it, Moon Carver helped Ground Mender carry you up the stairs last night. There’s less quiet in the palace infirmary, more patients coming and going and attendants rushing about… but as you don’t feel as sick as you did even just a week ago, it’s not as overwhelming to hear people wandering about, if anything, it’s comforting.

“I am,” you mumble, giving up on your prolonged rest to turn back on your back. “It’s warm.”

“It won’t be for long, summer is coming to an end soon,” Guizhong approaches your bed and makes room for herself on the side of it next to you. “You should try and enjoy the warmth while it’s still here, do you want to go outside?”

You do, you want to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, to breathe in the fresh mountain air and feel the breeze ruffle your clothes.

But you don’t trust yourself to make it alone, even if you were to just stand by the walkway and hold onto the railing. “Will you help me?”

“Of course,” Guizhong moves off the bed and straightens. “Let’s greet the fishes in the gardens.”

You want to squat down and let the carps nibble on your finger, but you worry you might not be able to get back up easily, or you might pull on something. Instead, you merely stare longingly while Guizhong kneels down and feeds them from her hand.

There’s not much wind today, barely the breeze you longed for—but even just the soft brush of air is more than you’ve had for weeks. You squint up towards the sky, a few clouds lazily drifting across the vast expanse as the sun hangs high above your heads.

You hear the waters of the pond and small stream that cuts through the back gardens, a usually peaceful ambiance that makes you slightly uneasy now. You can’t imagine yourself stepping into a river anytime soon… you know that rationally, there is no danger in the small waters of the gardens, but the thought of touching the waters makes your skin crawl.

Footsteps approach the two of you and Cloud Retainer stops next to you—she has a floating bird crafted from bamboo and paper next to her, you hope it doesn’t shoot darts at the fish—with a flourish of her hair. “Your breakfast is waiting for you.”

Ah. “I’m not hungry,” you turn your gaze away from the eccentric inventor, looking down to the Lord of Dust that pets every fish that comes to eat from her hand.

“You said the same thing last night,” she folds her arms over her chest. “You need energy.”

She’s right, of course. “... okay, I’ll try.”

You sit on the side of the road, a weary log under you and soft grass beneath your feet, the sun slowly sinks below the treeline as you stretch your legs and raise your gaze to the pink sky, your surroundings are peaceful and silent—a captured moment in time where you get to be alone with yourself.

Long, high trees line the road behind you and shield you from the rest of the world, the view before you is a comfort and home. Rolling hills, distant farms and fields of flowers spread over the land, coloured orange and pink with the reflective sky.

A child runs past you, they trip on a rock and tumble to the floor—but no sounds of pain leave them, giggles and snickers as an older sibling runs past them, grabbing their shirt and hauling them up on their feet as they continue their sprint.

You don’t recognise them, but they feel familiar.

You feel no wind nor the heat of the sinking sun, the sky is clear of clouds and birds, there is nothing but the wide scroll of the heavens furling across the air, opening up to reflect their blessings of fertile lands and fresh produce. You stretch your arms above your head and stand up, patting your clothes down to rid of any grass or dirt before continuing on your way.

You see him in the distance, and your pace increases. A flow of white robes and long brown hair, he turns off the gravel road and walks towards the thick treeline. Where is he going? You only see his back, the golden lines glowing in the darkening surroundings—as if beckoning you to follow, a guiding light.

But before you can leave the road and follow him into the forest, a hand grabs your elbow and stops you.

You hear your name and blink—there’s no trees in front of you, there is a deep crater that is centred with a pool of water. Dry dirt crumbs fall down from below your foot and roll to the body of water, creating ripples in the still waters.

Suddenly, you feel as if all the weight of the world is bearing down on your body, you’re cold, your feet hurt—you’re not wearing shoes. You stand at the edge of a crater, one step from tumbling down, and in the battered state you’re already in, it wouldn’t be a good tumble. You look back and see Morax staring at you, his hair is tousled and eyes strangely wide—you have never seen his face make such a vivid expression, one of surprise and concern. He tugs you backwards and you fall into him, your legs give out and tremble with strain. There’s a dull, agitating throb in your arm and stomach, a pulsing throb in tune with your heartbeat, in tune with the sway of the grass around you. Back-forth. Back-forth—

You hear your name again, his arms hold you up and prevent you from sinking down to the ground. “Can you hear me?”

You can, but you find it difficult to voice your confirmations. You’re cold, it’s nighttime—how is it night already? The stars dot the sky with bright flickers and you try to stand, but your feet feel like heavy weights, a thrumming prick of needles rushes through them when you try to put pressure on them.

Why does it feel like he is always seeing you at your worst?

Sick. Injured. Hurting.

You would rather fall into the crater, he must think you a burden on—

“You’re trembling,” his voice is louder than the brushing wind, louder in your ear than the sway of branches and rustling of leaves. “How have you found yourself here? In the darkness of night, alone and so far from the city?”

He sounds different, urgent and more pointed—as if a front has been reached through, a hand through fog holding your arms as he steadies you against him. Morax’s body is warm. “You… it was you, I was following you,”you finally manage. But when did you start chasing him? You don’t remember starting a journey.

“Me?” he hesitates for only a beat of your erratic heart. “Are you certain?” Morax reins in his urgent tone, carefully choosing his words. “Word was sent to me that you had disappeared from your bed, it has been two days—do you know where you are?”

“No,” it’s an easy question to answer, despite it being so difficult to think of what had just happened mere hours ago, days ago—a week ago. Your tense of time is ruffled, what had been the last thing you had been doing? Were you asleep before or after finishing the book Guizhong had left you?

“The energies in your arm have spread again,” he moves—tugging your rather limp body along with him as he kneels on the soft ground. You feel the tickle of grass on your calves and realise you’re still wearing the short pants and shirt you were put in and made to use by the medical ward. Morax tilts you towards him as he unfurls the bandage on your arm, your side and right arm rest against his chest and torso, your head falling rather lamely against his shoulder—it’s a strangely intimate position that neither of you consider given the circumstance, it doesn’t feel intimate, it only serves the purpose of not having you fall over while his hands are occupied.

The ink that had been sealing the miasma below your elbow was smudged—this type of ink doesn’t smudge for this specific reason. Blackened veins travel up your arm, so stark against your skin that they might as well be drawn on. They rise up your bicep and fade just below your neck. Morax’s eyes are focused and firm as he turns your throbbing arm palm up to examine it further. “The seal has been torn,” his fingers ghost over the blackened veins on your arm, you’ve only felt his gloved hands before, you wonder if his fingers are softer than the texture of his clothes. “You said you were following me.”

You were… or, you thought so. “It looked like you,” you say it more so to yourself than him.

“Did you see its face?” he asks as he wraps your arm again, your skin is ice cold to the touch—the weather has cooled as summer is coming to an end, and with the Guili Assembly’s elevated land, it gets colder faster.

“No,” you mumble, shoulders raised as a cool breeze brushes past your neck, raising shivers on your skin.

Morax doesn’t ask further questions, but it doesn’t leave his mind either. He believes what you say, what you saw… real or not, it only serves to drive his concern for your well-being, physical and mental.

His hand raises, and you feel something touch your head. You squint your eyes open—you didn’t even realise you had closed them—and tilt your head to look at his face. Morax’s face is so close you can feel the warm brush of his breath on your cold chin, it blooms over the bottom half of your face. “What are you doing…?”

His fingers halt and lift from your head, Morax blinks down at you. “I… heard it is a sign of comfort.”

He was patting your head, trying to comfort you—it was… rather cute, that he tried even while struggling to grasp whether it would be appreciated or not. “Oh… thank you, it’s okay,” your torso doesn’t feel as cold anymore. Morax seems to take your waiting eyes as permission, and his palm rests on your head again, carefully. He doesn’t stroke or scratch like one would do with a pet or animal, his palm and fingers lift slightly and touch back down a few times.

You never thought you would be petted like this by a god, had you told yourself a few months ago, you would have found it funny—silly maybe. But… now that his warm hand touches your head gently, you find that it is comforting.

#⭒ - gss #genshin impact x reader #morax x reader #rex lapis x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #morax x you #rex lapis x you #zhongli x you #multi-chapter #fics #my writing #afab reader #genshin impact

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canisalbus · 1 year ago

Note

I hope this isn’t unwelcome but here are a few of my personal Vascete modern AU headcanons:

As a child, Vasco was usually voted as a team captain when playing sports with other kids. Not necessarily because of his sporting ability, but rather because of his leadership qualities and general agreeableness and ease with others.

Machete always uses perfect grammar when he texts, but can take a while to respond. Vasco often responds instantly but with less attention to grammar. Machete texts in unbroken paragraphs (when he has a lot to say) but Vasco’s texts come through in small, sporadic flurries.

Machete is very familiar with hospitals, particularly so in his childhood due to his various medical issues. As a result he actually finds their cleanliness, and the politeness of the doctors, comforting. These experiences also made him more patient than he might otherwise have been.

Vasco donates blood and is on an organ donor registry.

Machete always carries hand sanitiser around and is constantly offering it to Vasco, who always carries hand cream around, and is constantly offering it to Machete.

Both are well-versed in music and have refined musical tastes.

Vasco hums wholeheartedly whilst doing the dishes - a chore Machete likes to avoid where possible. Vasco knows this, so he pretends he doesn’t mind doing them.

Machete often has a headache and Vasco’s usual first response to this is to ask Machete if he’s had enough water today. He’s often right.

Vasco scarcely thinks of the other paths his life could have taken. Though he knows pain, he feels very fortunate for all the good he’s been dealt in life, and attributes his good luck mostly to happy accidents. Machete on the other hand has unexpected moments of stark awareness of all the possible forks in his road. It’s a sudden deja vu that creeps up on him when he’s alone, almost as if he can remember all of his and Vasco’s past/ potential lives together. The feeling vanishes just as soon as it arrives.

Hot dang anon I LOVE these. Unwelcome UNWELCOME? You come to my house and present me with thoughtful interpretations of my characters, I feel nourished.

I can definitely see Vasco being a popular choice for a team captain. He's physically active but not ultra sporty, and even though he can get excited and carried away, he's never been that competitive (he's got that 'I just hope both teams have fun' sort of vibe that people tend to like).

The texting bit is terribly cute. Vasco rapid firing message after message vs Machete intermittently slapping half an essay in the chat.

Machete is hypochondriac and his threshold for seeking threatment is low, especially if he's experiencing anything he's not already familiar with. To my understanding Italy has a good quality universal public healthcare, but he typically chooses to go with private sector anyway and has been investing in pricey health insurance for years (probably way more extensive than what is necessary or reasonable).

I also thought of Vasco as a habitual blood donor. He wouldn't like it per se (medical surroundings unnerve him), but I think he might just get a kick out of being a good boy and potentially helping people. (I know gay, bi and msm men used to be banned from donating (or at least severely restricted) but it looks like many countries have revised their criteria significantly in recent years and there's a good chance he'd be eligible these days.)

The hand sanitizer/hand cream combo is so good. It made me chuckle. (Are you a hand sanitizer person or a hand cream person?)

Their respective tastes in music and cinema have more overlap than you might initially think, and they keep aligning closer and closer over time.

Machete wouldn't like doing dishes. Having to touch wet food (weird texture + unhygienic) is bad times all around. But he genuinely enjoys a little bit of vacuuming, dusting, laundry and general tidying and organizing. He doesn't leave that much for Vasco to do, just the occasional visibly messy jobs that squick him out more than he cares to admit.

That's very considerate of him. That's a very considerate thing to do to anyone in general. Dehydration and low blood sugar can really sour your mood and you wouldn't even notice they were the reason you're feeling so bad all of a sudden. (When I'm having a difficult day I try to remember to ask myself whether things are truly collapsing or am I potentially just a little too thirsty and hungry and unaware of it. Usually it's the latter).

Ah yes, Machete and the horrors. Vasco might be aware of the horrors as well, but perhaps he possesses the specific kind of galaxy brain that is near immune to this particular flavor of existential dread.

#sorry for rambling folks it's just really fun when someone has a brain cell that vibrates at the same frequency as yours #I hope you don't mind that I'm more or less accepting these as facts and incorporating them as part of their character #they're so fitting #anonymous #answered #Vasco #Machete #Vaschete lore #modern au #long post

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satellite-sims · 5 months ago

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Heya, it's time to present the final version of my beloved Antje. I worked on her since late 2019. It was the very beginning of my new era lol. I started writing Deep End where she have the support role and she should have look exactly the same as her real prototype. That's the goal. I had to admit - her face wasn't that easy to recreate. (Like Adrien's too). But i did my best to get even more resemblance by making a low-effort skinblend and it came out super gorgeous! I'm gonna show you results in the details. Pictures are slightly edited and taken with reshade.

Let's get started.

1. Portrait Zone

The first thing that triggered me in her face is her dark and "muddy" cheekbones. It was the skintone and the blush itself fault. Skintone have multiple colors on the face (some zones are yellow and some are pale & bluish) and it was disturbing to constantly remove this effect on portraits. Now this problem solved! Her face now have smooth colors with warm pink/peach undertones (which i usually remove to get the "porcelain" skin) and smooth cheekbone line. The other important part that may be not really visible is that her neck got shorter to fit the resemblance.

2. Face Proportions

When it gets to the skintone changing - sims may lose some details that makes them resembling. It does happened to Antje but it wasn't that terrible, because i blended some parts of her previous skin (Ephemera's Fresh) and the newest one (Simpicient's Tranquility) I blended eyelids, nose and lips to save the definition. I've added a cheekbone definition to make colors smoothly looking (makeup part not really worked with her) and it gave me an ability to make cheekbones a little lower which looks more accurate. Some little touches i've made: slightly reshaped the lips (they've got "sharper") and widener the jaw. I think i will do some changes in future, because chin and eyes are slightly off to me. Yeah, i'm the perfectionist, but anyway, i love how she comes out in general.

3. Clavicle & Cleavage Details

When i seeked some photos of Antje for references, i noticed that her clavicle and cleavage are not that subtle as my Antje. It's more soft and flat. Anyway, previous version looked unrealistic to me when i took the pics of her body in lingerie. Something was off to me. That's also the reason why i decided to experiment with skinblending. But in fact, i didn't changed the body. I just took original from Simpicient and i really liked how it looks on her. Textures are more realistic and details are smooth like Antje should have.

4. Belly & Spine

Honestly, i don't like how previous belly looked like. It's kind of dystrophic for a middle aged woman. It should be just flat in my view. And again a yellow tone looks a bit odd. Yeah, she still have ribs at the second pic but they're not that obvious now. And a neat button as bonus, lol. Spine is my favorite thing about Antje. She have unusual body shape for a woman - reversed triangle. It's always called "less feminine" and etc. but i found it very sexy. I really love how her spine looks like especially with wide shoulders.

5. Legs

It's the most boring part for me, lol, but they look fine in both variations. That's all. Second ones are just better textured as the whole skintone does. Knees are slightly controversial to me. Maybe, i will rework them later.

6. Misc Parts

These are the smallest improvements, but i decided to show like everything (except nude parts, sorry, but we're on tumblr).

That's all i wanted to show you. It's a little, but honest work :D I love the way Antje transformated just by changing a skintone. She became "older" and that's what i wanted to get. I wasn't sure that i have any luck with skinblending, because all my previous efforts were too bad. This one is a small but important step for developing my favorite character.

Thanks for reading ❤

#the sims 3 #sims 3 #ts3 #ts3 simblr #ts3 screenshots #ts3 sim #sims 3 screenshots #sims 3 simblr #simblr #sims 3 blog

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pliablehead · 1 month ago

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posts no one asked for but that I feel like I’m the singular authority to make and I’m bored at work: the men of Everything Everything as classic Jellycats

first we have Jeremy as the eponymous Jellycat Jack. This was a no-brainer. he’s charming. he’s iconic. he’s a cat guy. he wears twee little hats. he’s slightly larger than the rest of them. i love him.

Jon is Ricky Rain Frog i mean just look at him. jon higgs is one of the men on this planet i am honestly the most attracted to but that man is ugly cute. everyone is obsessed with this frog who is frowning. my coworker has collected every incarnation of him that exists

Mike is Brook Otter. never beating the otter allegations. this one was in HOT demand and sold out a lot because it’s that good and lovely. i don’t think i’ve ever actively touched mike spearman’s hair but i’ve touched brook otter and i can only imagine the texture is VERY similar

sorry to report that Alex is Lachlan Sad Rat. he isn’t really sad but he is always just a bit lost and hapless looking. lovable af with terrible posture. it was also important to me to make mr synth wizard temple of tone a guy who had discrete fingers

pete is literally bartholomew bear irl. platonic ideal of a teddy bear. no man on earth more huggable

anyway follow me for more useless content like this. thank you.

#everything everything #jellycat #i don’t need to put more tags on this. anyway.#this has been a post #e e

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 year ago

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which turtle do you think can handle spice? lol i made some spicyx2 ramen for dinner and both my parents asked me if this was food or nuclear war fare, they got scared of how red the ramen broth was lol

Spicy Food (Headcanon)

A/N: The lucky wheel decided on the 03 boys for this one, so here we go💚 I myself am very bad with spicy food, like it's really bad. Like, if the food does as much as touches anything spicy, I can’t eat it. But I think the guys generally would have a way better time handling it💚

--------

Leonardo:

Leo does pretty well with spicy food. He’s used to Splinter’s spicy noodle soup, and was always the angel that ate everything his father made for him, without complaining. Not that he ever complained. According to his taste buds, all of Splinter’s cooking was amazing.

When Mikey started taking over in the kitchen, Leo could not help but find the food a little… What is the right word? Uhm… bland? But don't get him wrong, Leo loves his little brother’s cooking, but he did prefer his father’s addition of spice to the food. It just that feeling in his mouth that reminded him of childhood.

Although Leo is a terrible cook, and has been ordered by his whole family to never touch the stove or the oven, Leo did know how to use the kettle for tea, and the microwave for making leftovers. But he also knew how to make instant cup noodles as a snack, often finding himself gravitating towards the extra spicy once. But even then, he often finds that they aren’t spicy enough, and adds a little more himself.

Raphael:

Raph has a love hate relationship with spicy food. On one hand he loves spicy snacks, but on the other he isn’t a big fan of warm and spicy meals. As a child it had almost caused several meltdowns at the dinner table, back when Raph didn’t have the words to clearly explain to Splinter that the noodle soup was causing him middle discomfort.

Raph could not explain it. It was as if the heat from the food made the spice so much stronger, to a point where he just couldn’t eat it. Even as a teenager and as an adult, he would let the soup cool down for a bit, before finally feeling comfortable enough to eat it.

But funnily enough, Raph LOVES spicy snacks. Chili chips or at least some kind of spicy dip with his chips, and this guy would be happy.

Raph once shared some of his chips with Casey, not thinking they were so strong. But neither Raph or April had ever seen someone run so fast to the fridge for milk, giving Raph a hint that his snacks may be spicier than he first thought.

Donatello:

No one knew for sure, but there was this theory in the Hamato family, that Donnie’s taste buds were immune to pain. Donnie did not seem to care if his food was spicy or not. The important thing for him was that it tasted good, and that the texture didn’t make him run for the hills.

Leo had long speculated that it came from years of caffeine addiction, but that did not explain how seemed to have shown the same behavior, years before he even tried coffee for the first time. Spicy food just didn’t bother Donatello.

With that being said, it’s worth mentioning a time where Donnie’s spice tolerance really came to show. One day, an absolutely sleep deprived Donnie had made himself a cup of coffee, but in his sleepy state, he had added hot sauce to his drink, instead of the milk. The horror on his brothers’ faces when he took a sip, and went as far as to say that it even tasted better than usual, before he went back to work in his lab.

Michelangelo:

Mikey had never been a picky eater, but if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was spicy food. It had been like that since… pretty much forever. Sure, Mikey could eat mildly spicy things, but he just had a taste for more sweet things.

Mikey’s food making was therefore obviously less spicy than Splinter’s. But just because his food was less spicy, it didn’t make it any less good. Mikey’s cooking was amazing, even if Leo seemed to miss the good old days, where his mouth was about to burn off.

But Mikey’s mild intolerance for spicy food, gave Raph a great opportunity for a prank. One day while Mikey wasn’t looking, Raph added one of his spicy chips to Mikey’s already opened bag of salty chips. The scream that followed when Mikey then unexpectedly bit into that one chip, was so loud that people on the street above looked around in confusion. It was no surprise that all of Donnie’s milk suddenly disappeared after that, having been drunk by a hysteric Mikey that desperately tried to kill the fire in his mouth.

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gauloiseblue · 9 months ago

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Asra Alnazar | Modern AU

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

A/N: sorry for the random ass post, but I miss soft romance AU, and he's the only comfort character that I know would fit into this. (it's a wonder what a half heart could do to a lady, huh?) Anyway, enjoy my take on him ^^

General

He might not realize it, but most of his clothes are women's clothes. For a reason that he find the texture softer, and more comfortable, compared to men's clothes

Like shirts, and the outerwears

He likes woman's shampoo (*cough* Diane) as well, because it makes his hair smoother, and smells good

He also wears skincare, but limits himself to moisturizer only. Because he once brought so many products, but he ended up not using them because they didn't fit his skin type. He had learnt his lesson

Books and poetry are his weak spots. He likes to read, and can never resist a novel with an interesting title

He treats Orpheus and Eurydice story like the Bible

Sometimes he writes, but he finds his poems terrible, so he never shares it to anyone

Surprisingly, he doesn't have any favorite movie. While he does like a few movies, there's none that touched him—to the point that it changes him as a person

People around him would debate over his pet preference, some would be so sure that he's a dog person, while the others were dead serious about him being a cat person.

(Imagine their surprise when they found out that he owned a ball python)

He prefers to cook his own food rather than buying take-out, except for the food that (1) took a long time to make, and (2) sourdough bread (or any kind of artisan breads, really)

Talking about preference, his favorite beverages are smoothies and wines. But for wine, he only likes them when they're sweet. If it's a red wine, he'd like them hot and spiced. For white wine, he prefers port wine. I can see him liking any sweet cocktail like Baileys, Sangria, or Margarita. He only indulges in alcohol every once in a while, but smoothies? Oh boy…

Contrary to people's belief, he doesn't listen to music that much. Even if he does, he's listen to instrumental music

He values his concentration a lot, and would do anything to keep himself focused. That's why he practices meditation, and he'd take some time to meditate, at least once a day.

I can see him as someone who owns a perfume shop, or a place for an art exhibition. And he won't have just one job either, he'll have many things on his plate that's relating to arts, fragrances, and wellness

When people ask him about his belief, he'd say that he believes everyone is responsible for their actions. He doesn't believe that God would meddle with people's affairs, and strongly believes in karma. He also believes in reincarnation, that's why he tries to not make enemies with anyone, because he doesn't want to deal with them again in the next life

While he doesn't necessarily believe in the personification of God, he believes in the existence of Deities, and he respects their existence as something beyond human knowledge

Which, in turns, makes him luckier somehow

(Maybe it's because Deities favor him, but who knows)

He's really bad at video games, mainly because he never takes it too seriously. But his friends would invite him to play, because he always makes them laugh

He also sings, very badly at karaoke, because he never listens to the songs

Despite of his easy-going nature, no one's really close to him. He's a private person, and wouldn't disclose anything about himself too much

But strangely, people would claim that they know him best, solely on the random facts that he had told them separately

(And it's always fun to watch them arguing about it)

Love/Relationship

Like I said earlier, he's easy-going, and that means he's easy to approach too. But that's it, that's what he'd ever be

He's approachable, but unavailable at the same time

And the reason for it, is because his idea for love is very complex. He couldn't love someone if they didn't connect on deeper level

In the past, he's not afraid to kiss anyone he found interesting, but as he grew up, he did it less and less, to the point of stopping

(Once, he got into an argument because the person he kissed believed that they had something, but he firmly stated that they're nothing. Which snowballed into a fight, and their relationship became a gossip for quite a while)

He never slept with anyone either, because he believes that sex is an exchange of energy, and he didn't want to give a 'part' of him to someone he didn't truly love

I think he's pretty much the embodiment of 'fell in love first × fell harder' trope

He wouldn't know his feelings before they hit him all at once

And when it happens, he won't know what to do, because it's very unfamiliar to him

He'd distance himself with the person he loved, while trying to make sense of his feelings. Does he really love them? Is it something that's genuine, or will it pass?

But once he found all of the answers, he's committing, hard

You won't see any hesitation from him when he confess to you

Would just marry you on the spot if he could

Of course, he'll take it slow at first, but he knows that there's no one else he wants more than you. So he'll work hard to make sure that you're happy with him

Having conversations with him hits different, because he knows you and your way of thinking. You'd say just one word, and he'd already know the whole sentence

On the fluff sides, I think he'll pretty much share things with you

He'll let you move in with him, and will let you use his things without complain

That includes his clothes and skincare

You'd be surprised to find that many of his clothes fit you perfectly. Because they are women's clothes after all

Would prefer to cook for you, but wouldn't mind taking you out for dinner either

Dating him consists of a lot of talking, a lot of kisses, and a lot of cuddles

If you need help, he won't hesitate to do it for you. He'd take care of you when you're sick, he'd pick you up despite of the distance and the time. Whenever you phoned him, you knew he'd pick up in an instant

(He knows it's not healthy, but he can't help it, his world revolves around you now)

You know the post where a man was at the party before he said he missed his gf and went home immediately? Yeah, that's him

If you wear lip balm/lip gloss, you'll find him staring at you, until you apply it to his lips as well

Since he takes good care of his hair, he'll do it to yours too. He'd buy the best products for your hair, and would take care of it twice a week, leaving your hair soft and healthy

In terms of social life, he'd pretty much introduce you to everyone he knows. Whether it's his family, or just friends

Speaking of his family, his parents already welcomed you long before you even met them. They both would exchange a meaningful look whenever their son talked about you. They trust his choice, and will give you both their support if needed

(Now that you've entered the picture, his parents won't stop talking about your relationship with him. They'd gossip like two bored wives in the lazy afternoon, about how he'd propose, or what the wedding would look like)

And Faust!! That little thing is pretty much your child now

When the two of you are cuddling, Faust will find a way to nestles between you and him

(He usually lets Faust out of his tank whenever he's alone, but he'd only do it once you're comfortable with it. Which you did, eventually. And that's an order)

You both pretty much behave like an old couple, and many of his friends point it out to you—mainly in the form of complains, because he's becoming more and more unavailable since you both started dating

But what can you say? It's not like you can escape from him either when he's clinging to you 24/7

NSFW

If you remember what I said earlier about his thought on sex, then you shouldn't be surprised when I told you he's a virgin

When the two of you had sex for the first time, he swallowed his pride and told you that he had no experience. But he made it up to you by giving you oral

While he lacked experience, he definitely knew about women's anatomy (because he secretly read it in women's discussion pages)

And he's an attentive lover, he'd be in tuned with your feelings, and how your body reacted when he did certain things

He only lasted one round the first time, for a reason that it took tremendous energy to keep him focused on pleasuring you. But now that he knows your body like the back of his hand, he won't hesitate to tire you out every time you both have sex

At the end of the sessions, he'd relish the afterglow as he kissed your shoulder tenderly

The feeling would persist, even days after the passionate night. You called it 'lover's bliss', but for him, it's the remnant of 'your energy'

Since he avoided porn like a plague, his view on sex is really different from other people, and that includes the kinks that he's into

Choking and slapping are barbaric to him, but he'd hold you in his arms really tight as he pounded into you from behind. He won't shout vulgar words at you, but he'll whisper unbelievably sweet, but dirty things that'll make you squirm. You won't be forced to pleasure him with your mouth, but he'll eat you out until you cry rapturous tears

While there's no definite correlation between fruits and sweeter cum, his taste is definitely sweet, or at least less bitter than normally. (Yea, I'm nasty, what about it)

About birth control, he won't let you take one, because he knows of the side effects. He'll use condoms instead, or have unprotected sex when it's your safe day

He's a vanilla, but he won't hesitate to make you pass out from overstimulation

Though he won't do it often, since he needs to have the energy to wake up the next day

Trivia

His MBTI type is INFJ

He wears 3 rings—2 on his left hand, and 1 on his right hand—and one of them is actually your engagement ring. He just hasn't give it to you

#headcanon #the arcana #asra alnazar #asra x reader #asra x mc #modern au #i swear I'll be back with cod content after this. just let me indulge in my comfort char and au first orz #also..... my god..... I can't forget him at all #he's like a virus in my head now

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ruewrites · 17 days ago

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AO3

Ship: Beelzebub/MC

Word Count: 2579

Warning(s): Sensory Issues

A/N: This was my second piece for the gift exchange @obeymeholidayexchange for @qrowsofafeather! I don't normally write for MC, but the prompt I picked was "Beelzebub takes a food adverse/picky MC out to sample Devildom food to find something they will like". As someone who is also sensitive to food textures I couldn't not do it. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT QROW 💗

Getting Yuki to eat their first day in the Devildom had been a challenge all on their own. Beelzebub remembered the way they tried to smile, their hooves shaking as they attempted, and failed, to force down the tiniest bite he’d ever witnessed down their throat. The partially chewed up morsel wound its way back onto their plate, and Yuki bowed their head to excuse themselves from the table in a quick little flurry.

They insisted they weren’t hungry anymore, and yet Beelzebub still found them rooting through the fridge late in the night when he did his own midnight snack run. They’d almost fallen from the shelf they were standing on after being startled, the light emitting from the fridge illuminated their bleary eyes. The following events had been quick and not thought through and had nearly woken up the other occupants of Lamentation. Knowing Lucifer, it definitely could have ended in a much more upsetting fashion than a few pieces of devil ham hock and a cup of screaming succotash on the floor.

It was confusing, Beelzebub wouldn’t lie, normally other people weren’t sneaking around the kitchen at night. His appetite dwarfed theirs and, for the most part, three meals and a few tiny snacks was enough to tide most people over. So why would Yuki be rooting around in the fridge at night? For a moment, he wondered if such a small creature could possibly have an appetite as large as his, and for a single second he understood why others were amazed.

Then Yuki explained after rapid apologies. They weren’t satisfied earlier, they were still hungry, but the texture of the meat- once their teeth dug into it, they couldn’t bring themselves to eat anymore. It was all wrong, too chewy. It wasn’t right, Yuki’s teeth couldn’t cut into it quite right, and the crunching sound it made when they hit gristle-

They felt terrible and embarrassed.

Yuki wanted to like the food, they really did.

They wanted to eat it, but they couldn’t.

Beelzebub thought it sounded terrible. Texture getting in the way of the enjoyment of food? What would it be like for him if he had to constantly worry about what he ate with his appetite? All the food he enjoyed, he would always have to worry about it and fret. And if it wasn’t right he wouldn’t be able to eat? It sounded like the worst punishment a demon even crueler than Lucifer would come up with!

So, since that day, Beel paid close attention to the food that was made, as did the rest of his brothers.

Yuki preferred tender meat, the kind that would fall apart in the mouth and that was juicy. They also liked things that were crispy, but they could never be too chewy. That was bad. For vegetables, they could be crispy or cooked, but they could never be mushy. Vegetables had to have some sort of structure or else they wouldn’t feel quite right. Food also couldn’t be too stringy or contain any gristle at all.

Not every time was perfect, and every now and again one of them would make a mistake or they would have food that Yuki couldn’t eat. In that case they always kept a select few foods on standby that were known as Yuki’s safe foods. Beel tried his best not to touch them, and if he did he made sure he went to buy them more as soon as he could.

The other issue, that Beel didn’t even realize, was the subject of restaurants.

When going out to eat, Yuki could never be certain of the textures of food they’d come across. Even if the food smelled, looked, and tasted good, it could still have a less than welcoming texture for Yuki.

The thought that he couldn’t safely enjoy restaurants with Yuki was an upsetting one, and one he would have to come up with a solution for. Sharing food was a form of sharing affection for him. Sharing food was a form of love for him. If he had to put a little more effort in, he was sure that he could find a way to share his love with Yuki.

Food was a great way to get to know someone, it was a gateway to their soul.

Like how Mammon liked really spicy food and Asmo liked sweets.

Mammon was fiery and spirited and always tried to step in for them.

Meanwhile Asmo was kind and supportive and always ready to point out their best qualities.

It just made sense to Beel, and he wanted to learn more about their human exchange student. It had been a while since they’d come to the Devildom, true, but it was never too late to learn something new about the person you cared about. Food was the spice and flavor of life, and the more food can be enjoyed, the more life can be enjoyed.

Beelzebub wanted Yuki to enjoy life without trouble as much as possible.

One day, he approached the small sheep, list in hand and laid it before them.

“Tell me which group of textures appeals the most to you.”

The bell around their neck jingled softly as they looked up at him in confusion.

“Trust me on this.” He laid another list in front of them. “I also have some groupings of scenery too. Noise, lights, things like that. I know those can bother you too.”

He watched as they carefully circled the groupings that most appealed to them, taking extra care and thought to each of the pairings on the sheet, even going as far as to rate which groupings would be the most unpleasant to most pleasant. Once completed, Yuki stepped away from the lists and looked up at him with a jingle of their bell. They tilted their head curiously as Beel took the lists in his hands.

“Nothing I can tell you yet,” he said in response, “Just know that I’m gonna make plans.”

And make plans he did.

Beel took Yuki’s notes into special consideration as he went to every restaurant he could think of in the vicinity. The textures, the atmosphere, it all had to be perfect. He didn’t even really care if they put a limit on his own potions, if Yuki could eat their fill that would make him more than happy. He even asked the staff what type of light fixtures they used (and chewed on a few for good measure). Everything had to be perfect for them, Yuki had to enjoy this meal. It couldn’t just taste good, it had to feel good.

What good was food if it wasn’t appetizing? If it didn’t touch the soul? If it wasn’t an experience?

Food had to be all of those things, because food was meant to be enjoyed and savored on the tongue. It warmed a body from the pit of the stomach, flowing out through the fingers and the head dizzy with endorphins. It made Beel smile and his mind buzz. He could feel it in his hands and his feet, radiating straight from his endless pit.

Yuki deserved those good feelings too.

The vibration.

The rush.

The joy.

And Beelzebub would do anything to make sure that experience could be guarded and cherished for them.

***

Yuki sat on Beel’s shoulder as they walked through town. It was a pleasant day, mildly chilly, just enough to liven the senses. Every shop they passed alerted Beel with a variety of pleasant and tempting aromas. They were begging him to step inside and devour everything in sight. But today was for Yuki, and Beel would stay focused for them. He couldn’t take a possible moment of enjoyment away from them to satisfy his own urges. Not today.

Besides, Yuki’s joy would fill him more than any triple deluxe cheeseburger with extra devil sauce ever could. Even if it did sound really good, and Beelzebub thought it sounded incredibly good as it made droplets of drool form at the corners of his mouth.

The bell around Yuki’s neck rang as they attempted to clear the drool around his mouth with a tiny cloth.

“Hm? Oh sorry about that,” Beel said, taking the cloth from Yuki and wiping his face. The sheep tilted their head in confusion in a silent question, one that Beel understood perfectly. It wasn’t that hard to understand Yuki, he just had to listen a little differently.

“Where are we going?”

Yuki nodded.

“You’ll see, it’s a surprise.”

Their brow furrowed, and their gaze became a bit apprehensive. It was a rightful concern, but Beel was certain in what he was doing.

“Don’t worry. You’ll like it a lot. I promise. I did a lot of research.”

Yuki still seemed apprehensive, but settled back down comfortably, scooting closer to Beel’s chin.

Walking for a little while longer, the pair eventually came to a quiet little building on the edge of town. The lights were dim and soft and streamed out of the window gently onto the street. Beel opened the door to a warm and plush restaurant. The tables were wide and had hot plates on either end and a grill in the center. Beel brought them over to an empty table, kneeling down so they could hop off his shoulder with ease. Sitting across from them, he tapped the tablet screen on the table. The screen lit up with a variety of options from different meats, vegetables, and broths to choose from.

Yuki’s bell rang twice as their head looked from the screen up to Beel.

“I know you’re normally hesitant about restaurants because of sensory things, and Devildom food is even trickier for you to navigate,” Beel said as he started to scroll through and select a variety of foods, “But I still wanted to share some of my favorite foods with you, and I wanted to take you out.”

For a moment, Beel felt like he was rambling, and an odd feeling overcame him. Face heating up, he pressed the submit button a little harder than he needed to, making the tablet bend ever so slightly and leaving a rather prominent fingerprint in his wake. He had been excited when he started, why now did he suddenly feel so shy? It didn’t make any sense in the slightest. Perhaps he could ask Belphie later about these weird feelings, but for now, he had to focus on Yuki. The urge to over explain returned and he continued to speak.

“I- I wanted to find a place we could eat out together, and take you to restaurants I really like. So I went to every restaurant I could and tried all their food and even got second opinions from other people.” Beel liked all food, and while he thought he could be pretty good at differentiating between textures and tastes, he wanted to be extra sure. If Yuki didn’t like it, Beel didn’t know if he’d be able to finish his own meal. There was still the chance that Yuki wouldn’t like this food, and the thought alone made Beel sweat. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass them and-

Maybe he should have gotten takeout instead.

Maybe bringing them out to a physical restaurant was selfish.

Maybe-

No.

No no. He couldn’t think like this. Yuki would love this, and he was sure about that. He had to be sure about it.

“I tried a lot of different places, and it was hard to pick one. That’s why I made the lists I did for you to choose from.” He looked up at the lighting fixtures, and listened to the soft music that floated throughout the room. It wasn’t too overstimulating, he didn't think. He’d asked Levi to step inside and he seemed pretty relaxed, so it would work for Yuki too.

“You choose what you want to eat and then you cook it yourself, either in a broth or on the thing in the middle, I can help you choose based on flavor,” Beel said, a smile finally making its way to his face, “If you have trouble with the cooking too I can help you, I’ve gotten pretty good at cooking meals for you.”

He stopped as he noticed Yuki tear up a little and wipe their eyes.

“We don’t have to though!” Beel panicked, “We can go home and make something if you don’t like it. I-”

Yuki shook their head rapidly, the jingling of their bell struggling to keep up as they did so. Walking across the table, they motioned for Beel to come closer and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His face turned a bright shade of red as Yuki took a seat next to him instead of making their way back to the other side of the table. He was in such a state of shock that he didn’t even notice when the piles of food and the bowls of broth were delivered. In fact, Yuki had to nudge him a few times to get him to notice.

The look of concern on their face made him feel bad, he didn’t mean to worry him, that kiss had just been unexpectedly nice.

He picked up his chopsticks and dropped a slice of manic minotaur meat and dropped it into the bubbling bowl alongside some putrid potato. The seconds couldn’t have ticked by slower as they waited. The thin slices of meat always cooked the fastest and were usually done in seconds. Everything went quiet as he lifted the cooked meat from the bowl, dripping with savory juices as he looked back over to Yuki. Carefully, he held it out to them and they both held their breath as they took their first bite.

Beel had barely noticed the way Yuki closed their eyes until they flew open in wonder, and before he could react the rest of the meat was in their mouth (along with a good portion of the chopsticks).

“You like it that much huh?”

Yuki nodded their head so fast that Beel thought their bell would soar right off their neck, never to be seen again.

“I guess that just means that we’ll have to make this our place then huh?”

He’d never felt a warmth like this before. It was a better feeling than food could ever give him, and different than the warmth he’d felt with his family. As he dropped food into their bowls and onto the grill before them, Beel rattled on about the different meats and vegetables and which ones he thought Yuki would like along with their flavors. He talked about the different drinks they could order, and he raved about desserts and the fruit and sauce options at the bar in the back.

He talked on and on and on, the warmth between them growing with each passing second.

And outside, though neither of them noticed, a soft snow started to fall and collect on the sidewalks outside, illuminated by the quiet light illuminating from the tiny restaurant on the outskirts. A tiny restaurant on the outskirts where two figures ate, and laughed, and loved.

Two figures who couldn’t imagine being anywhere else in all the Three Realms.

Two figures who were full of joy.

A joy that couldn’t be replicated anywhere, not this night.

Not with the snow falling.

Not when the world was so quiet, and calm.

Not when everything was right.

#ruewrites #obey me #obey me mc #mc is a sheep #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #beel x mc

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