#Pure Blue Japan

[introspect-la]

PURE BLUE JAPAN SASHIKO JACKETS IN LIGHTNING MAGAZINE VOLUME 6 (2024)

[flchan]

Snow white

[jaredthebc2]

Fucking illegal that I can’t try sea salt ice cream I’ve wanted to try it since I was 13 but who is gonna sell sea salt ice cream in middle of nowhere New England 😔

[tartppola]

This is just basic observation but, I love how modern japan is depicted in a very standard anime color scheme, the backgrounds and buildings are also very typical anime style

and then when you get to NRC!!! the BURST of COLORSSS ughhh!!! I love how the night scene has purple undertones, given that it's the entrance ceremony and the secondary colors of the ceremonial robes is purple and gold.

like. comparing the above shots of yuuken to these ones. hes so ourpole, I do also love how exasperated he is when he's stuck in twst, it's been a while since i've read the Heartslabyul manga but i think he emotes a lot more in this trailer compared to the manga chapter equivalent.

and u can tell these backgrounds are very much trying to emulate the backgrounds in twst!! like look at how blocky the clouds are AGHSGHGHF but!! they also made it more detailed instead of making it just purely blocks/shapes like in the game, which tbh is a really good decision cus if the background art looked too similar to the games', it'd clash too much with the characters imo

the key art of all the housewardens is also soooo sososo beautuful, and the color design of the anime has got to be my favorite part of it!!! bcs AOUGHHH I LOVEEEEE how nicely saturated everything is!! All the complimentary colors they gave on the HSB crew's hair is also so neato I love how Deuce's and Trey's are very clearly inspired from their ingame chibi sprites. The blues in Ace's and Caters hair is also sooo sososo delicious, the soft pink/purple on Riddle also suits him very nicely!

if i could!! express just 1 fear!! the trailer footage likely only contains episode one.. maybe we'll get a second trailer with later episodes, but we'll see. anyways!! i'm so excited for it!!!

[rekawa39]

pure blue japanジーンズ股穴修理

この度は、Pure Blue Japanのジーンズの修理をご依頼いただきました。誠にありがとうございます。今回は、東京都江戸川区のお客様から郵送で送られてきたお品物の修理事例をご紹介します。 Pure Blue Japanは、その名の通り、日本製のジーンズにこ��わり、一本一本丁寧に作られています。特にインディゴ染料を使用した純青色のジーンズは、穿くほどに味わい深い色落ちを楽しむことができます。不均一な色落ちに味が出るジーンズですね。 今回修理した箇所は、ジーンズの股部分です。ここは摩擦が多く発生するため、穴が開きやすい箇所となっています。しかし、当店では独自の技術でこの部分を丁寧に修理し、長くご愛用いただけるように仕上げます。 修理後のジーンズは、裏側に補強布をあててミシンワークで細かく縫い込み、補強してまた履ける状態に生まれ変わりました。しかしながら、それでもなおPure…

[kaiser1ns]

Nighttime is your favorite time of the day, especially when you're lying on a soft mattress with your lover. His gentle kisses trail down as he pulls your robe slightly aside, and you wrap your arms around his neck, a smile of pure satisfaction gracing your lips. You love Michael Kaiser, love him so much that you're completely lost in him—just as he's lost in you. From the corner of your eye, you catch the bouquet of blue roses on the table, but it's his face that holds your focus as he leans in to kiss you again. His soft, wet lips press against yours in a hungry and passionate kiss. The atmosphere is utterly romantic, and every second with him feels perfect. You swear you never want this moment to end—

But then his phone rings. 

The two of you pause, reality pulling him away as he sits up. You know he has to take the call, so you let him go. You catch bits of his conversation��something about Japan, a new project you've heard before. Blue Lock, yes, that was it.  

Left alone, the cool night air brushes against your skin. You clutch your robe tighter and plop onto the pillow, listening to the low hum of his voice. The call is short, though, and soon enough, the bed dips under his weight once more.  

"Tut mir leid, dass du warten musstest, Liebling," he murmurs softly.  

The night is still young, and so are the two of you.

Tut mir leid, dass du warten musstest, Liebling. — Sorry for the wait, darling.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[httpsdana]

Hey love!

I was wondering if you could write something for Max Verstappen with a super soft, quiet little girlfriend? She’s a chunky little thing, all round and cute, with blonde hair, and she’s just very… pink. Everything about her is soft and feminine—her clothes, her nails, even the way she speaks. She’s also a little dumb (in the most adorable way possible), always getting confused about things, and Max just finds it endearing. Maybe some fluff where he’s super protective over her because people underestimate her a lot? Thank you so much!

Softer than Sakura~Max Verstappen

・❥・prompt list

・❥・motorsports masterlist

・❥・who I write for

・❥・a/n: this HAS to be my fav fic EVER. I love max sm yall don't understand. pls don't let it flop 🙏🏻🙏🏻

She was the total opposite of Max. Opposites attract, they say. Max, the serious, sarcastic Formula One champion, dating her; the short, blonde girl whose whole life was pink and ribbons.

But Max found everything about her so endearing.

The way she got confused over the smallest things, the random questions she asked out of nowhere, and mostly, the way she managed to be the most adorable person when he asked her to go to her first Grand Prix with him: to Japan.

“Well, everything is pink, and it’s all flowers and stuff there. I think you'll like it,” he said softly, his smile unwavering when she jumped up and down before climbing on him.

“Oh my god, yes! I have the perfect outfit for race day. Should I do my nails too? When are we going? Do I have time to pack?” she rambled, unable to hide her excitement, and also nervousness.

Max chuckled, putting his finger on her lips to stop her from talking.

“Don’t worry, schatje. I already booked your nail appointment. We’re leaving Tuesday morning, so you have plenty of time to pack,” he mumbled before brushing his lips over hers.

Max took his headphones off as his engineer finished telling him the new updates on the car. His eyes scanned the garage slowly until they found her.

She stood by the corner, carefully reading the schedule on the paper that was on the wall. The pink ribbon sat perfectly in her blonde hair, while her hands clutched her small bag tightly.

He smiled softly before quietly making his way to her. He sneaked his hands around her waist gently, which made her flinch for a second before relaxing in his arms.

“Maxie,” she mumbled, her eyes still fixed on the paper, her head tilting in confusion.

“Hey, baby,” his fingers brushed against her pink dress as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m confused,” she stated, turning to look up at him. “The schedule says you have media duty from ten till twelve. It’s eleven-thirty now. Are you breaking the rules?” she gasped softly, her voice lowering as if afraid someone might hear her.

Max chuckled, his heart melting at the pure confusion in her expression.

“No, darling. I finished early and had some stuff with the engineers,” he said, making her lips part as realization dawned on her.

“Let’s get you seated in the garage before qualifying,” he gently tugged her hand as he took her to the back of the garage where families and guests usually sat. He helped her up on the stool before handing her one of the big blue headphones.

“For me?” she asked, confused, making him hum.

“It can get loud, so you’ll need it,” he placed it on her neck before brushing her hair away from her face to admire her soft makeup that she always did—the one he always adored.

“But it doesn’t match my outfit,” she frowned, making him laugh with a shake of his head.

“Sweetheart, the sounds are pretty loud. You need it,” he insisted, making her frown deepen even more. He smiled before leaning down to kiss her pout away.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she quickly gasped and pulled away.

“Someone could see us,” she whispered, making him pout.

“Just one?” he asked, leaning in again. He kissed her softly, and she couldn't help but kiss him back.

When he pulled back, he hummed in satisfaction. She opened her eyes and giggled at the sight of him.

“What?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips.

“You’ve got some lip gloss on your lips,” she murmured, reaching over to wipe it off with her thumb.

“Do I look pretty?” he teased while she hummed.

“You always look pretty,” she whispered shyly, making him smile.

“Only because I have you by my side.”

“Hey, where's my girlfriend?” Max asked one of the mechanics, who he saw a while ago talking to her.

“They told her to go to your driver's room after quali. She was asking way too many questions,” he chuckled, expecting Max to laugh with him, except he didn’t. Max scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah? So what? This is her first race and she's still new to everything here,” he said defensively, eyes narrowing as the mechanic started squirming nervously under his intense gaze.

“I-I didn’t mean-” Max interrupted by rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, already walking away to his room.

He opened the door gently, peeking his head into the room slowly. He saw her sitting there, his plushie, which she had bought him, tucked under her chin while she scrolled through her phone silently.

“Hey baby,” he said softly, afraid to scare her away.

“Hi Maxie,” she mumbled, her voice a bit down and softer than usual, the usual bubbly and excited tone not evident.

His face twisted in anger, knowing that she was upset by something someone had told her.

“What did they say?” he asked calmly, but his fists clenched by his sides as he walked closer to her.

“Mhm, who?” she avoided looking into his eyes, still scrolling on her phone.

Max took the phone gently out of her hand to have her look at him. Her eyes were dull, the usual light in them faded out.

“What did they say?” he asked again, this time more gently.

“Nothing… they just said that I should come here because they can’t stand someone asking so many stupid questions,” she shrugged, but her teary eyes showed how much she was affected.

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pulling her into a hug as he sat next to her. He tucked her head under his chin, securing it by holding the back of her head. His other hand soothed her back, mumbling sweet nothings into her ear to help her calm down.

After a while, her body relaxed more and she let out a sigh into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her arms tightening around his torso.

“Don’t be, schatje. They’re assholes who don’t deserve to listen to anything you say. If you have anything to ask, I’ll gladly answer you, even if it was the silliest question,” he said, pulling her head back to look at her.

“I love you,” he held her gaze, his fingers threading through her blonde strands as he spoke.

“I love you more, Maxie,” she said, her smile finally finding its way back to her face.

He held her more in his arms, watching some TikToks with her on her phone, ignoring the fact that he had already skipped two interviews.

She pulled away then, making him look at her, confused.

“So... what does DRS mean?” she asked sheepishly, making him chuckle.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just let me hold you some more, sweetheart.”

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia @ilovebarcaaaa @f1lover55 @jajajhaahaha @universefcb @mariejuli (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[rinnstars]

good luck charm!

things they do before a (winning) match

bllk boys x reader (reo, rin, sae): fluff, drabbles, pro!player, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

reo’s always thought of superstitions stupid: the way his parents ask fortune tellers about specific dates and time for certain events from business investment to even when to host meetings, the way his friends would follow superstitions told by their parents from crossing their fingers before receiving their results to avoiding cracks at the pathways in school, the way he recluntantly follow them because its “tradition”. but maybe he’s no different from them, he thinks. its the big match: one that will decide whether he’ll prove his father wrong - the world cup finale. he’s anxious: his hands are all sweaty and shaky as he puts down his water bottle, water still dripping from it from the mouth of it, his heart is beating the fastest its ever had as though he’s about to have a heart attack, and his mind is hazy with self-deprecating thoughts that practically chain him to the seats. he closes his eyes and tries to slow his breathing, he has only a few more minutes left before he has to get on field, a few more minutes before he either makes it and becomes a professional footballer or break it and be enchained to his family company for the rest of his life.

superstition. good luck charms. reo’s getting desperate, he’ll take whatever at this point. whether its removing that polaroid of you from the back of his phone to trace with his shaky fingers and press his lips against, or placing the cold matching necklace with you against his palm to cool his nerve down to focus onto the freezing sensation over the beating o his heart, or even taking your spare candies from his bag to chew on one or two. and he’ll let the sweetness burst in his mouth: ignore the drying of his mouth as he walks out on field, ignore shakiness of his entire being, ignore his heart failing him.

and when reo kicks the last goal, his eyes instantly search for yours in the crowd of people, recognising you within a few seconds amongst the millions cheering. and he thinks: you might just be his guardian angel, after all its with you that hes able to win. and perhaps, that cold necklace might calm him down more if it was a ring on his fingers, he gets real fidgetive before a match after all.

itoshi rin

in contrast to what others think, rin’s a nervous wreck before a match, especially one where hes now competing against his brother: no longer part of blue lock, but in a team, on the global stage. hes insecure, he knows he’ll never compare to sae, hes aware of that since he was a little kid he thinks by the countless of golden awards that people credit sae for rather him, countless of opportunities only given to sae and never to him. and his usual routine is thrown out of the window: he cant just rely on just motivsting himself to perform by thinking of those burning feelings im his chest, cant just rely on pure instincts he thinks as his legs turn into jelly, cant rely on himself solely. its not the first time either he feels like this: in his first match thst he won the night sae came back home for the first time, in his match at blue lock against u20 japan team, and now in his match against real madrid in the world cup finale. proving sae wrong: thats what hes been working on for the entirety of his teensge life, but for once, hes not so certain anymore. rin feels like a little kid, he feels lost, and he could run away: the door has always been open, and its not as though sae hasnt cursed him to this.

and rin’s spiralling again, the ring of his braclet that he bought with you the day before he first ever entered blue lock brings him back to reality: sitting on the bench in the locker room all alone when his other teammates are all chatting amongst themself a little further away from him. rin should go soon, he looks up at the clock, a few more minutes before showtime. and as always, like clockwork, he opens his phone and plays his favourite voice memo: one where you simply wish him good luck, telling him you believe he’ll win in that same cheery tune that he misses.

and when rin kicks the final goal, the world stops. silence, before the chant of the crowd overwhelms his ears and his teammate throw him on his shoulders: he made it. and yet, for the first time, instead of looking at his brother for validation, for his praise, for his reassurance: he finds you in the crowd and all he can think is now hoping you can rerecord that good luck message, maybe a video this time. after all, if your voice recording can help him to score two goals, he might just ace his next match with a personalised video from you: but for now, he’ll dedicate this win to you with a kiss to yours and his necklace.

itoshi sae

its just another match for sae: and yet he feels totally drained out compared to usual. no doubt, he’s lost his spark and passion that he used to hold on to tightly when he was a teenager, and he’s been playing simply for the sake of it. and maybe its tthe back to back matches that weighs him down like stones, or maybe its homesickness, missing everything he wants to chase back now that hes all grown, or maybe its simply the usual nervousness before a match. deep down, depsite his ambitions, hes insecure: hes no genius, he knows, it was a bitter revelation he finds out when he leaves, crying silently in the bathroom with no one around him but geniuses, and maybe it lingers in him: that hes never truly accepted his mediocrity. yet, he knows every and any match matters: he should get up now, join his teammates in those cheers, or at least get himself ready for the match starting in a few minutes instead of wallowing in his own misery, hogging the seats in the locker room. hes got all his usual routine done too: wearing the socks you bought him when he first came back from spain, stretched the way he was taught to, drank the water he needed to in the cute little water bottle he matches with you — but hes still missing something.

sae thinks its silly, he only does this ritual whenever its a big match, and this match is nothing special. logically, the opponents are much weaker and even at his current state, he’ll likely win them still. but he supposes he can indulge a little, after all its almost 6 months since hes seen you: with the season having started at the start of your internship. a minute before the match begins, and he hurriedly presses yours and his promise necklace onto his forehead as though a prayer and he walks with his teammates onto the field.

and when sae assists in the final goal, he smiles unconsciously in contrast to his usual self: he wonders if youre watching and he knows the answer when he opens his phone and sees you send a photo of news article speculating of his and yours promise necklace debut to the football world. he looks at the date, one more week, one more match until he gets to see you again — he cant wait already, but maybe while hes here in spain, maybe he should get you something special.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈, 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

— pairing; itoshi sae x reader  

— summary; in which you and sae meet again in japan after a messy breakup in spain. set in the blue lock manager au.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s not really something you like to broadcast, how you and Sae were close when you were in Spain with your parents for that brief, wonderful period of time. While he honed his skills with football, you would balance your studies while helping out at Re Al.

❋ Things had been so simple back then. Late-night walks in Madrid, your fingers intertwined with his. Sneaking kisses in quiet corners, away from prying eyes. Sharing popsicles and everything else. Sae was cold to the rest of the world, his softness reserved entirely for you.

❋ You were each other’s first everything — first kiss, first love, first heartbreak.

❋ Some part of you had to have known that this was only temporary, considering how often your parents travel for work. But it still comes as a shock to you when you parents abruptly decide to return to Japan to help fund the Blue Lock project.

❋ And Sae, so full of potential. Sae, whose career is finally taking off. You aren’t about to let him leave it behind; and Sae, too driven, too focused on his dreams, wasn’t about to throw it all away and return to Japan either. Not like this. Not for you.

❋ You hadn’t expected to see him at the airport to see you off. Sae’s expression was closed off, and it was like the two of you were strangers once again, the distance and silence already stretching endlessly between you. As if your relationship had never existed in the first place.

❋ The breakup was messy, yet silent. Both of you knew instinctively that this was the end. And just before Sae left without looking back, his final words to you were, “If you’re going, don’t expect me to wait.”

❋ The last image you have of him is his retreating figure, back rigid, leaving as the words die on your lips.

❋ And that was that.

❋ You’d returned to Japan with your parents to work as a manager at Blue Lock (Ego had agreed to take you in under the promise of free labour, apparently). Ego’s lectures aren’t fun, but you’re actually learning something under him and Anri when you’re not being driven insane by a group of rowdy, immature teenaged boys.

❋ You try really hard not to think about Sae. Even if the occasional headline reminds you of his burgeoning career in Europe. But the memory of him is a quiet ache in your chest that surfaces in random moments — when you see the colour teal, or hear a song he’d used to like.

❋ You’ve been to JFA headquarters only once or twice before, but it’s bustling with activity as always. Your purpose here is purely business; you’ll act as a secretary for Ego and Anri while they finalize plans for the U20 match with the top brass.

❋ You didn’t think that he’d be there.

❋ Right at that very moment.

❋ In that very room.

❋ Fate is cruel, sometimes.

❋ He looks . . . The same, yet somehow different all at once. His hair’s a little longer, his expression sharper, but those piercing green eyes haven’t changed at all, and the realisation makes your chest throb painfully all over again.

❋ You wonder how you appear to him, underneath your professional blazer and veneer of carefully controlled calm. Does he think you still look the same? Or does he think that you’ve changed, become a total stranger to him, much like how he is to you right now?

❋ His gaze is intense, scorching. You can feel it the second you enter the room, but you keep your head down and try to pay attention to the meeting. (The thought of having to present incomplete notes to Ego certainly does a marvellous job at helping you focus.)

❋ A breath of relief soughs out of you the moment the meeting ends. Quickly, you gather your things, following Ego and Anri out the door. You’re eager to avoid the lingering eyes of the association’s board members.

❋ And perhaps most of all: you’re eager to avoid unnecessary small talk with Sae.

❋ But you catch a final glimpse of him out the corner of your eye; Sae, still staring at you. His expression seemingly softer, almost hesitant. It’s almost as if he wants to call your name, to stop you from leaving, but something — Pride? Anger? — holds him back.

❋ The door to the meeting room clicks shut behind you with a cold finality, and this time, you’re the one leaving first.

[yestrnight]

DOWN THIS RABBIT HOLE WE GO ! nite's kinktober 2024 m.list

ladies and gentlemen im about to match your freak this october

╰ may include. blue lock, genshin, honkai star rail, zzz, jjk, obey me, whb, twst

MESSAGE: warning i have not written anything yet lmao we're about to go in this bitch blind but lust is blind and baby imma read this like braille. this will be updated throughout the month also ignore my incoherent horny ramblings along the way. also i made this list myself. i made sure to choose all the freaky ones

day one | magical healing cock

PURI☆PURI HEALING CUM GO! magical girl! childe / reader ╰ oh no! while fighting the big bad monster, pure☆aqua accidentally let you, a civillian, get caught in the crossfire! before you transform into one of the baddie's goons, pure☆aqua needs to give you a magical girl's cum before it's too late!

day two | lactation

MY TITS ARE DOWN HERE! gallagher / gn! reader ╰ he's tired of slutting it out everyday for you and never catching your eye. after ingesting a vial out of sheer desperation, his heavy chest is now leaking milk and— oh dear, you wouldn't mind relieving his poor, swollen tits, right?

day three | audience

CLIP THAT, CHAT! streamers! venti, xiao, scara, heizou, kazuha / f! reader ╰ in a sex-positive world, showing off your nethers isn't going to earn you a ban on twitch.com. you, however, are a prude, and your streamer roommates are about to break you in front of the entire world just to change that.

day four | pegging

BY MY COCK YOU SHALL REPENT! oliver aiku / gn! reader ╰ playboys are the scum of the earth! you've watched all your friends cry one after the other because of some stupid washed-up soccer player. the last straw is oliver making your older sister cry! luckily, you've got just the right utensils to make him taste his own medicine...

day five | sex toys

THE MAGICAL POCKET PUSSY! ace trappola / afab! reader / deuce spade ╰ there's always something happening in night raven college, but even adeuce didn't expect a pocket pussy arriving on their front door step. there's really no harm in trying it out but huh... it feels so warm and wet... and huh! why are you blushing and squirming like that!?

day six | size difference

I'M JUST A GIRL :( true form! ryomen sukuna / f! reader ╰ after witnessing japan's newest oppressor in person, him and his 10 feet, four-armed, mouth-belly glory is all you can think about. so you accidentally stumble near his territory... just in time for sukuna to start wanting some fresh meat to make a snack of.

day seven | oviposition

TO EGG OR NOT TO EGG. naga! jamil viper / afab! reader ╰ you've been hearing rumors about a mythical naga residing in the forests. as an avid... researcher, you venture into the deep in search for the truth. you meet him, and quickly find yourself as his breeding ground this mating season.

day eight | monsterfucking

💉stay tuned for this day's lucky bastard!

we're not done yet !

[sirhamburrger]

and some roommates (don't worry, we're cool!)

a/n: thinking silly thoughts today... having sae itoshi and ryusei shidou as roommates while getting involved with rin itoshi… (unrealistic since they'd both probably be really rich by the end of bllk, whenever that is, or adulthood) for the purpose of this drabble please pretend they are two broke boys 🙏

wc: 739 || tags: all characters are 18+, gn!reader, reader is in uni, situationship ryusae once again putting the bl in blue lock, background rin x reader, 700 words of domestic crack and more || header from bllk manga

(continued here in my christmas miniseries, more rin x reader centric)

it all begins when you're looking for an apartment in downtown tokyo. but since you can't afford one of your own at the moment, you're looking to see if anyone could use another roommate to split rent with.

and after days of scouring the internet, you find a promising place. clean, well-furnished, spacious - but there's already a couple living together in it...

oh well. the more the better. 

so you show up at their door after a couple of text messages exchanged with one of the very enthusiastic co-tenants, hoping to get a better look at the place. you ring the bell. no response. you try again. and again. maybe they're out -

“shidou, will you just get the damn door already?”

oh. okay.

the door finally swings open, and you're greeted by a tall, tan-skinned and vaguely familiar-looking man with a terrifying grin. you take a step back, a little shocked, but he just beams at you.

“you're the one who's been messaging me about the apartment, aren’tcha? come on in!”

he loops an arm around your shoulder, introducing himself as he walks you in. he's ryusei shidou, a member of the national football team who played in an exhibition match a few years back (which explains why you find him so familiar).

“so, uh…” you shudder slightly when shidou fixes his gaze on you. “where's your girlfriend? or, uh, boyfriend, i guess. partner. i should probably meet them.”

and it's at this moment that you abandon your inital thoughts of finding another place because sae freaking itoshi steps into the kitchen??

you think you might just faint. 

“o-oh my gosh, sae,” you stammer,  “it's an honour to meet you –”

he stares at you blankly, then at shidou with murderous intent in his eyes.

“who is this?”

“i'm not, like, a side chick or anything,” you quickly clarify, but shidou simply grins.

“we need someone to split rent with, and-”

“and i thought i would just check your place out, seeing as i'm in the same boat,” you finish. “but you two, as a couple, should probably discuss this. you know what? i can wait outside-"

“wait,” sae says slowly, pure, unadulterated disgust in his eyes. “he told you we're a couple?”

shidou's face falls. "we're not?"

and that's the story of how you move in with two men around your age who have some weird dynamic going on that you don't question.

japan's talented young midfielder is a great roommate (then again, you did go into this with no expectations whatsoever). he does the dishes when he's supposed to, takes the heavier bags off your hands during grocery runs with you, stays quiet after ten pm. he makes breakfast for you and shidou in the mornings, and teaches you about football.

ryusei shidou, though... oh, you get why sae's so sick of him now.

he takes the most massive dumps in the bathroom and doesn't flush. or put the seat back up after he's done. or turn the tap off properly. (he's flooded the sink before.) speaking of sinks, he leaves his dirty dishes in the sink. sometimes you want to tear his diabolical dye job off his scalp. sae informs you he has has tried just that and failed to do so.

but he does make you laugh a lot with his jokes and antics.

"one thing you should know about genius sae-chan is that he loves back hugs." "please don't speak for me."

and the two of you absolutely love making fun of sae's attempts to properly reconcile with his brother. you'll be peering over at his phone screen, ryusei on his right and you on his left, as he types out something about lunch plans tomorrow.

"you spelled 'restaurant' wrong for a second there."

ryusei dodges the pillow that comes flying at his face.

they've known each other for longer than you've known them, but they tell you things they wouldn't ever tell the other. like when ryusei quietly admitted to you one night, that despite all his careless flirting, he does really want to be with sae, in a more-than-friends kind of way. or like when sae told you in confidence that he secretly likes ryusei's back hugs.

and when against all odds, a certain green-haired boy in your lectures starts talking to you, you shudder to think that you now have something in common with ryusei - being deeply obsessed with an itoshi sibling.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[redr0sewrites]

im a handful (but thats what hands are for)

🍇A/n: the title is a song lyric,,,, iykyk

🍇Cw: smut, dirty talk, praise + degradation, pwp, fingering, riding, breeding kink, a bit of angst???, implied switch!Touya, fem!reader

🍇divider

you and Dabi had always been complete opposites in terms of demeanor. while he was carefree and frivalous, you always prided yourself on being complex and thorough. with the ever burning tension between you two, it was no wonder that you had ended up in the position you were in now- although this was certainly not the first time- pressed down on your bed with one of Japans, no, the worlds most dangerous criminals finger fucking you to hell and back.

"there she is," he whispers, the same words as the first time you'd let him fuck you. "knew there was a pretty little slut under that cold exterior."

you follow your script with practiced expertise, repeating the same words you'd uttered all those months ago- and so did he.

"ffuck you-"

"isn't that what i'm already doing 'ma?"

Dabi was mesmerized with you, to say the least. from the hitch of your breath when he first curled a finger into your pretty cunt, to the soft whines that slowly fill the room with each ministration, followed by the delectable squelch of your pussy as your clit rocks against his knuckles.

it was clear in every sense of the word that he was purely obsessed, almost worshipful- not limited to, but especially in bed.

"yea? y'like that?"

piercing blue eyes watch your every move, keeping careful catalog of every twitch and shudder you make in response to his actions. Dabi's thumb finds your clit with practiced ease, and he rubs swift circles over the sensitive bud.

"Dabi, oh-h, fuck-"

"thats not my name, hun," he coos, leaning down to press an almost condescending kiss to your forehead.

"y'really are worked up, huh? c'mon, we're all alone, you can say it."

"ffuck, Touya!"

"there she is," he smirks, curling his fingers and sliding in a third as you whimper. you can practically see his mind whirling with sawtrap level plans to keep you in bed with him, to finally let him truly be yours. in all the times you both had slept together, you had never fallen asleep beside him, never stayed the night, hell, never even mentioned it outside of the bedroom. it had started off as a challenge, but that soon melted into a raw, desperate, carnivorous need to be yours. Touya had never been wanted, so he rarely even dared to allow himself to want in turn- but fuck, did he want you.

he watches you as you cum like a sheep watches its guard dog, knowing deep down that you could ruin him, sink your teeth into his neck and tear out the remains of his bleeding, broken heart- and yet, the dog stays ever loyal, defending its livestock even at its own expense.

your ability to speak seemed to flee as your orgasm washes over you, sending ripples of pleasure across the planes of your body. all the while Touya continuously pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt, prolonging your pleasure as the world around you fizzes in and out of focus.

"y'alright?" he rasps, pulling his hand away from your sticky cunt- only to lick your release right off his fingers. you make a face and he snickers, and for just a second, you can see a ripple within the veil of time, and instead of one of the most dangerous people in the world, a snarky, beautiful young man is sitting in front of you. that was the difference between Dabi and Touya in your eyes- he could act cold and nonchalant all he wanted, but behind closed doors, he was your Touya.

"you want a taste?" his words pull you from your stupor, and you roll your eyes.

"no thanks, i'm good."

"are you sure? you taste sweet, y'know," he teases, and you laugh in spite of yourself.

"bull."

"don't knock it till ya try it," he snickers, before shifting to stand up. your body reacts without thinking, and you grab his wrist.

"where are you going?" you demand, and he turns to look at you, almost.... surprised.

"i was gonna go get something to clean up, but i guess if you'd rather be covered in your own slick-"

"what about you?" you motion to the obvious strain in his boxers, and he rolls his eyes.

"you worried about me, doll?"

"sit back down."

he obeys almost immediately, your commanding tone wiping the attitude out of his demeanor- but it isn't enough to diminish the teasing smirk off his face.

"why? ya gonna suck me off?"

"no," you murmur as you begin to shift closer until your hovering over him. with one hand, you push him down against the mattress, and he relaxes compliantly, like a ragdoll beneath your fingertips. you look down at him, lust clouding your gaze as he stares up at you with those big, blue eyes.

"then what're you gonna do, ma?" he mumbles, voice noticeably raspier.

"you'll see, Touya. be patient." you continue to hover over him, keeping yourself from fully straddling him just yet. he'd already shed most of his clothes earlier, leaving him bare before you in nothing but his boxers. his cock is already hard, straining up against the thin material of his undergarments.

you take your time to admire the pretty scene laying down in front of you- and pretty it is. his scars are even more defined in the dim lighting, and the streetlights from outside your window illuminate the silvery piercings holding him together.

you had been cursed- or rather, blessed- with intrusive thoughts of tearing them all out one by one with your teeth while he burnt you alive from the inside. it was disgustingly, beautifully gruesome, almost carnivorous, the way you loved- no. lusted for him. you desperately want him to be your undoing- and you, his- but you could never let yourself love him. not when he would never love you. you keep that in mind as you trail a hand over his chest and pectorals, yet your heart pays careful attention of the way his breathing hitches at your gentle touch.

"so pretty," you murmur, before leaning down to press a kiss to the conjunction of his neck and collarbone. Touya practically melts, getting all squirmy and unsure beneath you like he always did whenever you show him any attention.

"shut up," he hisses, but his words hold no bite as he shudders beneath you.

"mhm," you continue your assault on his neck, pressing gentle kisses across the scarred flesh.

"you nervous, Touya?" you tease, and he sucks in a breath.

"i said shut up."

"of course, baby~" you coo, pretending to ignore the strained whine that leaves his mouth at your words. he always got like this after a long day, all compliant and needy, but it was rare that he was this quiet. you indulge his good behavior, and your hands, which were previously exploring his chest, travel down to find purchase on the waistband of his boxers.

"can i take these off?"

"yea," he rasps, lifting his hips up off the mattress to assist you in removing his undergarments. his cock springs free, lightly tapping against his stomach in its erect state. you once again marvel at his complacency, and your heart flutters at how much he trusts you. then your brain tells your heart to shut the fuck up. regardless, you make eye contact with him as you spit into your palm before gingerly running a finger up the side of his aching length, causing Touya to grit his teeth to prevent another whine slipping out.

"don't tease," he grumbles, blue eyes narrowing in adorable irritation. you hum, watching the way his body tenses as you situate yourself above his aching length, aligning him with your entrance. scarred hands tentatively hover over your hips, and he looks up at you almost questioningly. you give a nod of approval and he grabs your soft flesh, rubbing small circles with his thumb over the plush of your hips.

"y'ready?" you mumble, before slowly sinking his tip between your folds. Touya nods breathlessly, watching as your cunt slowly begins to swallow up his length. his tip slowly protrudes into your gummy walls, and you shudder around his size. he's barely halfway in and he's already practicing breathing exercises to keep himself from cumming too early, with the way your squeezing him so tight.

you watch his stomach twitch beneath your hand as you sink further down his length. Touya's head is thrown back, and with every inch engulfed into your aching heat he lets out a few more tantalizing noises. your thighs burn as you finally seat yourself on his cock, with your clit ever so lightly brushing up against his navel as you get situated. you give yourself a second to get used to the slight burn you've associated with having him inside of you, and Touya squirms beneath you as he too struggles to adjust.

slowly but surely, you begin to roll your hips against his, marveling at the way his tip kisses your g-spot. Touya gasps as you raise your hips, almost letting him slip out of you entirely, before slamming yourself back down hard onto his cock. he lets out a strangled moan, squeezing your hips so tight youre sure that they'll bruise.

"yea? y'like that?" you parrot his words from earlier, rolling your hips in a desperate effort to coax out more of his lovely noises.

"ha-ah, fuck, you're so-o tight, 'm not gonna last, m'gonna cum in this pretty pussy," he slurs, looking up at you with hazy eyes.

"yea? s'that what you wanna do Touya? gonna make me yours?"

Touya nods eagerly, rocking his hips up into yours. his thrust hits your g spot perfectly, and you let out a wanton moan. he immediately takes a firm hold of your hips, pistoning his cock up into you again and again, repetitively hitting that spot so deep inside of you.

"you can, y'know." you pant, sweat dripping from your brow.

"huh?"

"cum inside."

Touya sputters something incomprehensible, and you have the audacity to giggle. at him.

"m' on the pill, hun. y'really are worked up, huh?"

Touya lets out a choked moan, recognizing his own words being spat back at him as he rolls his hips impossibly harder against yours. a scarred hand reaches between you both to rub harsh circles on your clit, and you gush, clenching around him at his ministrations.

"i, hah, 'm close- i want you, closer, please," he babbles, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you tight against him. Touya nuzzles into your chest, his lips finding purchase on one of your nipples. your pussy squeezes him tight as he sucks lightly, and his cock twitches once, twice, three times before he cums. he presses down hard on your clit as he spurts inside you, continuing to fuck his release deeper into your spongey walls. those actions alone push you over the edge, and you call out his name as your second orgasm of the night washes over you like a tidal wave.

Touya continues rutting up into you for a few more seconds, prolonging both of your orgasms and pressing sloppy kisses to your chest and collar. he isn't sure what to focus on, or even if he can focus. his mind is fuzzy, filled with you, you, you. nonetheless, your happy to indulge as you paw at his chest, continuing to grind down against him until the pleasure begins to melt into overstimulation. Touya can barely comprehend the fact that you had just let him cum inside of you, and it sparked the possessive side of him that so often reared up in these moments with you.

"o-oh fuck, ffuuuck fuck fuck," he's gasping, cock twitching desperately as he pulls out. cum is dripping down between both of your legs, hot release pooling on the sheets beneath him. you hover over him for a second before collapsing down besides him, and a firm arm wraps around your body, pulling you flush against him. Touya marvels as you melt into his embrace, nuzzling into his neck. if he could cry, he probably would, he wants you insatiably, impossibly close. in this moment, he knows that if he could crawl inside your skin, he would. he would tear out his own burning heart and hand it to you on a silver platter in return for moments like this, where he could be soft, where he could be Touya instead of Dabi.

"shit," you mumble against his skin. "that was... wow. better than ever."

"good enough to make you stay the night?" the words slip out before he can stop them, and he regrets it almost instantly as you tense. fuck his sex-addled brain and his stupid mouth. he's fully prepared for you to immediately get up and leave, but instead, you surprise him like you always do.

"i didn't think you wanted me to stay," you whisper, and he blinks hard.

"f'course i did. i still do."

"..okay. i'll stay."

he can't help the smile that stretches across his face as you snuggle into him deeper.

"on one condition- or maybe two."

his heart sinks.

"we clean up first."

damn.

"and you have to promise that we'll discuss this in the morning. i don't want to keep doing... this. if we're going to continue to sleep together, i want to be, like, more than just friends."

Touya is silent for a moment, and he swears that his heart is beating so loud that the entirety of Japan can hear it. you had just said that. he was sure he must be dreaming.

"really?"

"yes, really. now let me go so i can clean this mess up before it dries!"

"...never. i'm not ever letting go of you ever again."

"ugh, you're such a handful," you grumble, curling into his warmth as he lets out a raspy chuckle.

"i guess you're stuck holding me."

"..yea. guess i am"

hey guys ! im so insane over him actually. he's literally eldest daughter syndrome (me) in the form of a traumatized man (i would not fix him. i support his atrocities. id help him fuck up endeavor.)

ANYWAYS SEND IN DABI/TOUYA OR JUST BNHA ASKS OR THIRSTS PLS

[uzurimisery]

bite the hand that feeds. / naoya zenin / nsfw

Warnings: MDNI, Naoya Zenin is a warning, misogyny, secondary sex discrimination, physical violence, rough sex, degradation, a/b/o, biting, blood, BDSM, dub to noncon, use of slick, forced consumption of bodily fluids, talk of impregnation and baby trapping, lactation kink, sadism and masochism, spanking, threats of domestic violence, objectification, maybe body horror, dear god please practice RACK irl

w.c: 7.5k (shes juicy)

A/N: baby's first omegaverse! my (very) late entry into the wonderful @goxjo's Into the Omegaverse Collab

The rhythmic patter of zori against the courtyard bridge banged in your mind, each strike sharp and precise like a taiko drum—warning of impending doom that faces your lady. Married off into the Zenin clan under a clear blue sky, the breeze ruffling her dangling kanzashi. Everything about her looked perfect today, you had ensured it. Despite being your cousin, there was a world of difference between you as she strode forward, back straight, umbrella held by another attendant. Her every move was slow and steady, pronounced grace and elegance in every movement.

 It was easier to be from a branch family like you were—less pressure, less conformity, at least to a certain degree. While you had been at least allowed to attend jujutsu training until you presented, she had been given the basics of controlling her technique. Never stepping a foot outside of the family compound. 

It felt like the tsubo-niwa felt like it went on forever. The stretch between the bridge’s end and the open shoji doors where the meeting would take place going on like the desert. The air between heavy, hot and humid, weight down the fabric of your kimono.

It was easier being from a branch family. You could bow and prostrate, low and deep as your aunt had whipped into you, the cedar marks still faint against the back of your thighs. The scars almost faded, silvery lines, chain linked together through opposition, personal rebellion where you could. You could then sit, your posture picture perfect, eyes kept low to the ground, breathe calmly, and let the men speak. You could retreat into yourself, the memories of how the sun felt against your bare arms during training, the tan you’d get from the hours of running drills. The peace using your cursed technique brought. 

The peace and solitude of those moments had felt so pure. So freeing. But clan expectations changed everything. If only you had presented as a beta. 

The cicadas buzzed a drone against the conversation. The clan head was appraising your cousin, speaking directly to your uncle. Wanting to know every important detail about her. How consistent her heats were, what her last blood work showed, and how likely was her technique to be passed down over the Zenin family. It had always been like this here, omegas being cattle. Traded, bartered, bred. You’d be luckier than her, likely married to someone of less importance. Your value was lower than hers with a mistake from your youth. Perhaps he’d be kind, come to care for you over time. 

Maybe he’d let you train again, show you favor if you gave him an heir. You had made peace with the fact freedom, true freedom, would never come until you died or the death and destruction of your entire clan. 

Maybe one day everything would go up in flames, and a great fire would roar over the compound, scorching the earth. Erasing the clan from history. Maybe a curse so powerful would come and consume everything in its wake. Maybe you should just run away, flee from Japan altogether. There were sorcerers abroad, maybe you could join their ranks. Be free from how they operate here. Or maybe you would run away and rebuke sorcery.

Clove, rich and warm, scented the air as another man walked into the meeting room. His voice was low, steps heavy. 

Master Zenin introduced him as Naoya. His scent was distinctive, with notes of sandalwood underneath. It was spiced and smelt like comforting winter nights as the snow fell on pine trees. Holidays with your parents when your father was still alive. Both soothing and invigorating. It seemed to draw you in. Never before had a scent captivated you so strongly.

The dread you had felt crossing the bridge grew stronger, the animal instincts inside you screaming at you to run, and to run far. Run before he could catch you. 

Peeking over your lash line, you caught his eyes, dark brown and full of hatred, directed straight at you. Scrutiny crawling over your skin, climbing up through the arms of your kimono and wrapping around your heart, squeezing it tightly. He looked at you as meat, stock to breed. Your eyes quickly returned to staring at the floor.

You had heard tales of him before, of all the Zenins, but experiencing it was a different story.

“Naoya, this is Hiroko Kimura.” Naobito spoke plainly as if your cousin was another thing to buy at the store. As if he was deciding between brands of butter. 

From the corner of your vision, you watched as your cousin prostrated before him, kanzahi jingling as it hit the ground. Her father bows in suit, not nearly as low, saved by being an elder even if he was from a lesser family. Hiroko gave her greetings softly, speaking of how grateful she was to meet him. She was pumping out pheromones as she went, her scent permeating the air. The clash of clove and honey made you feel sick, the smell sticky as it crept around, spread by the breeze. 

He acknowledged her briefly, with no real interest or care as he returned her greeting.“What’s the one behind her.”

You knew he spoke of you sat five feet behind your cousin, now desperately trying to refrain from shrinking into the floods of your blue ougi-patterned kimono. To keep your pheromones from leaking out, to not scent the air with fear. 

“That is my daughter’s handmaiden, my brother’s daughter.” Your uncle introduced you to Naoya, shifting all the attention in the room to you. “She’s to continue her duties until a suitable mate is arranged for her.” 

Naobito hummed as he now turned to look over you. The weight of everyone's gaze was heavy on you. If it had been a different time and place, you had led a different life, perhaps it wouldn't have felt like the end of the world but you knew the attention of the room, of the marriage meeting, being on you was far from good. 

Naoya walked towards you, his presence looming, getting so close you could see his cloth-covered feet nearly touching your knees as you stared down at them. The soft fabric a sharp contrast to the dread pooling in your stomach. Maybe god would be merciful and cause lightning to strike the house, distract everyone, and allow you to escape. But god was not merciful, not kind, nor caring. No one was there to hear your prayers. 

“Smells good,” he crouched before you, cornering you without any way out behind you. He left you with no escape route. “Look at me.” 

His voice dripped with authority, command, and control, your instincts forcing you to comply. Instincts overriding fear, forcing your eyes to meet his own sharp brown eyes. Something in you felt like it was pulling you towards him, screaming at you to go to him. That he was the answer to your problems. That he’d take care of you. 

He looked over you, his gaze filled with an unsettling intensity making you instinctively shrink as he looked for flaws or dents, something that might detract from your value. It was strange. To be appraised not as a person but as an object by him.

The silence stretched on as he did so, no one speaking for the first few minutes. Everyone was waiting to see what he would say — if he would say anything. But as his silent appraisal continued, the conversation returned between the elder alphas in the room as they discussed the latest in sorcery. No one cared that his stare was lecherous, undressing you as you sat there poised and politely. The front of your ankles burned from the strain.

Naoya’s hand went to your hair, fingers tangling in the strands you had to patiently worked into an appropriate style for such an important meeting, before tugging your head to the side with enough force to make you wince. A whine escaped you, feeble, the omega within you desperate to appease him. To desperately try and salvage something to diffuse the undercurrent of rage and entitlement radiating off of him

It was hard to keep your eyes trained on him as he instructed, it felt nearly impossible. The trained reaction of avoiding confrontation, battling with the fear of displeasing him, and looking away only making the situation worse. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat feeling closer and closer to bursting through your chest as he leaned forward, weight in the balls of his feet, face uncomfortably close to your neck. To your scent glands.

Warm, wet muscle brushed against them, tasting the skin. A soft moan fell from your lips as you could feel every individual taste bud of his tongue as he lapped at your neck. 

Embarrassment, mortification-shame dancing along your spine as the room stilled again. Everyone had heard you but no one chose to comment. It was clear Naoya was staking his claim on you. Why would anyone care what he was doing to an omega, especially one with no status? It was his birthright as an alpha. The spices in his scent made your eyes sting with how close he was now, like little pinpricks on your skin.

Each passing swipe of his tongue swirled in your belly, warm and shimmering. Molten lava began to creep freely through your veins, replacing all the blood as you desperately held on to composure. Your nerve endings all thrummed in time with your heart, sending pulsing jolts of electricity everywhere at once. Your throat scratched, your mouth dry, like all the moisture in your body was moving to gather and pool at your core. 

You had seen alphas doing similar things. Scenting unclaimed omegas, testing just how much they could get away with. It was taboo if you were a normal functioning member of society, but when it came to the great families, it was a free game. Never did you think you would have to endure such treatment in front of your family.

“You taste good omega,” Naoya’s teeth scraped against your skin, teasing at a bite, a gasp leaving you. The sensation was both terrifying and strangely intimate. “Like cherries and cinnamon.” 

He moved your head again, this time forcing eye contact with you. The hand not wrapped in your hair crossed over your features. He started at the top of your head, tracing the perimeter of your hairline with his thumbs, pressing in slightly at your temple before moving on to your eyes, your eyelids fluttering shut as he brushed over them. Then he took to your cheekbones, running his thumb parallel to the curve of them before sliding down to your jaw behind your ear. He followed your jawline all the way to your chin before his thumb brushed your lips, smudging the lipstick that had been put on you to ensure your attire was appropriate for today's meeting. You could feel his eyes never leaving you, dark and filled with desire and dominance.

“Open.”

Your eyes snapped open, meeting his instantly. He tapped against your bottom lip, a command you couldn’t ignore. 

“You’re not very smart, are you?” His tone was sardonic, dripping with condescension. It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t. It only mattered what he thought and that you were an omega. 

“Open.” This time, you knew to part your lips.

Naoya’s thumb traced over the ridges of your teeth, pressing in against your canines hard enough that the sharp edges cut the flesh of his finger. Copper explodes on your tongue, the metallic tang filling your senses. He didn’t stop. Instead, he pressed his thumb flush with your tongue, pressing down to force your jaw open wider. 

Behind him the conversation continued to drone on, a forgone hum overpowered by the visceral reality of Naoya’s touch. He poked and prodded you with near clinical detachment. If he wasn’t leaking pheromones betraying just how excited he was to get his hands out, maybe you could believe it. A dispassionate facade only worked well if the scent of his arousal didn’t mix with the metallic taste in your mouth that left you reeling. 

“Kimura-san she’s your niece right?” Naoya’s voice cut through the dull hum of the background, clear and sharp. 

Your uncle lazily glanced over at the spectacle Nayo had made of you. His eyes were half-lidded and uninterested as you sat as still as possible. Your hair was half taken out of its style, no longer held up by the pins and clips that secured it. Now the only thing keeping the rest in place was Naoya’s grip. The lipstick you had so carefully applied was now smeared, and your kimono pushed down from his lapping at your neck like a wild dog. 

Your uncle didn’t even speak, just gave an affirmative nod before taking a drag from his pipe. The scent of tobacco makes your eyes sting. His nonchalance was chilling. You were only a bargaining piece for him.

“So nothing changes between us if I pick her, right?” 

You saw your cousin's shoulders relax, relief snapping the string of tension in her as she realized she would be free of this duty. No longer forced to marry and mate a man with the reputation of a monster. The chains of fate, instead, were passed to you. The metal pulled taught, the chains left to rust from the blood that you’d spill from your heart as they wrapped tight around it, squeezing.

“That’s correct,” your uncle’s tone was impassive as always. “If you want both, however, we’d need to renegotiate.” 

“I just want the one.”

The lock clicked into place, the chains now permanently attached to you. The view out the open shoji screen was so peaceful as you looked over at it. The sky stretched on, endlessly blue with faint spatterings of clouds. Serene and beautiful. A single sparrow flitted by, streaking across the sky. Its wings spread wide as it glided through the air. The birdsong chirped joyfully. 

An arrow shot through the sky striking the bird.

───※ ·❆· ※───

The wedding had been a large affair, filled with laughter and celebration, but none you felt privy too. Soft strains of a koto fill the hall. But no one focused on the young omega sitting at the head of the table, kimono splayed out, surrounding you in a vermillion sea. The grandiosity of the fabric and its patterns made you feel ridiculous, like a dress-up doll. Naoya had picked it out. The obi felt too tight against your stomach, digging into your ribs. They had tied it tighter than normal to keep you from eating too much. There was no reason for them to do so, you already felt sick to your stomach. It churned over and over like the waves crashing against the coast, the tide coming in and out. 

Naoya was seated on your right, his legs spread wide, thigh hitting against yours. The warmth of his body seeped through the wall of fabric between the two of you. Even like this, it was like you could feel his skin against yours.

He had kept you close since the ceremony ended, scenting you every few minutes. Possession in his every move. Sometimes a low growl rumbled from his chest, warning anyone who might think to approach you.

He had already placed a few small nips near your scent gland as well, edging you out of when he’d actually claim you. Each bite sent a shiver down your spine, the sensation a mix of pain and pleasure that pooled in your core. Your body reacted to him in a way that had never happened before. 

“Congratulations Naoya.” It was your uncle, bowing deeply to the two of you. Behind him, your mother also bowed. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of unseen burdens. You knew she regretted bringing you back to the family after your father’s death. That she felt she had sealed you to this fate. 

You could see the dark bags under her eyes when she rose. They had been a permanent feature since your father’s passing and you're presenting as an omega, but now they were so much worse. Your neck felt tight, breathing strained, as you looked at her hands and remembered the feeling of them wrapping around your throat. She smelt like baby lotion still.

“Thank you Kimura-san.” You could taste the satisfaction on his tongue. 

“Naturally. I’m sure your union will bring about the finest sorcerers of a generation,” despite the congratulations of his words, your uncle's tone was flat as always. Uninterested and just going through the motions. 

Naoya brushed his fingers over the shell of your ear, down the back of it, pinching the lop between his fingers. “I’m sure we will.”

The two exchanged a few more words before your uncle and mother returned to their table. Her eyes met yours for a few fleeting moments, filled with sorrow and helplessness. As she walked away, her back slumped, as if the weight of her guilt and regret was physically pushing down on her. You watched her go, the distance between you feeling insurmountable as Naoya’s touch lingered on your skin. 

Several rounds of people came around, giving their congratulations until it was time for another course of food. The noise of their chatter and the general crowd sounded so distant like you were hearing it through a glass cupped over your ears. Your own body felt lost to you, afloat and detached. As if you were watching all of this happen from afar, a mere spectator in your own life. The weight of the ceremony pressed down, deep into your bones, making every movement feel laborious. Faces blurred together—smiles, sneers, looks of pity and envy— all merging into an indistinguishable mass.  The red of your kimono grew duller as the minutes passed, a vinaigrette appearing on the edges of your vision as the walls seemed to close in on you. The rich, fatty scent of the meat was overpowering. Overwhelming. 

You felt Naoya speaking against your skin but could barely register it. It was only when his hand touched the back of your neck that everything snapped into focus again. The tensing was involuntary, your body’s memory reacting for you. 

This was the closest to being alone with Naoya you had gotten despite the hall being full. There was no one next to the two of you. No one’s attention on you.

“You’re pretty docile,” Naoya remarks, his voice low. 

You look up at him through your lashes, swallowing hard. Part of you wanted to recoil away from his touch. To untie your obi and run out through the shoji. To break through them and flee.

“I know my place.” you pause, determining if it was worth it to test the waters. “What would you do if I was to act out, Alpha.” 

“Strike you.” He spoke as if it was natural, obvious as if discussing the weather. His hand tightened ever so slightly on the back of your neck, a reminder of his control. There was finality in his words that you had come to know and expect from the Alphas of the great families.

There was nothing more fitting than a disobedient omega beneath him, a deep-seated belief that it was what they deserved. In their world, an alpha’s omega was theirs to treat and punish as they saw fit. The chain of tradition held fast, a rigid framework trapping you. This was your life. There was no escaping it unless you died. Any rebellion, no matter how small, would have consequences.

“Of course, Alpha. You know best.” It sounded like your voice was coming from another person, made soft and pliant. Your pitch raised slightly. All efforts you could make to seem less threatening and more agreeable. Like you were glad to be under his thumb. 

He liked that, a smirk quirking up the side of his mouth. His hand released your neck to trace down your forehead, mockingly soft and gentle. “Well, aren’t you a charmer? If you’re well-behaved, maybe I’ll reward you, Omega, just be the good little bitch you are.” 

“May I be so bold?”  

He raised an eyebrow. “You may.”

“I would ask of you to allow me to continue to practice my curse technique so that I may be of the utmost service to you.” 

The request hung in the air, your heart pounding as you waited for his response. His expression was unreadable. 

“I’ll consider it,” he replied, tone dismissive. 

“Thank you. Alpha,” you dropped low to present before him, back curved, the words bitter on your tongue. “I will follow your guidance happily.”

His smirk widened into a full-blown, maniacal grin. The shine in his eyes reminded you of teasing death. Cold and unwavering, a chill down your spine. A laugh broke out of him, more of a bark if anything. Wicked in every sense.

“Good god,” he patted the top of your head and pulled you up from your position by your chin. “Keep this up and I might let you give me a son.” 

He leaned in to kiss you. His lips were soft against your own. Surprising as you expected them to be rough. It was possessive, a mark of ownership, as the hand on your jaw squeezed down, forcing you to open your mouth. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Being married to him was one thing, but being marked by him was another. Once the mark was made, it’d take years of rejecting it before it could go away. It made divorce, as shameful as it was, look easy. It wasn’t something that you’d ever be granted; your uncle would kill you before permitting it, but it was in the realm of possibility. With the feast ended and the two of you alone in his wing of the house, the full weight of everything came crashing down on you.

You shifted, an uneasy pit in your stomach, the temperature of the room made you feel clammy, the dark green futon pillowing under your weight, as Naoya sat behind you. One hand was up in your hair, undoing the pins one by one. Each dropped into a bowl on the ground, tiny silver pieces raining down, ringing against the ceramic. It seemed he had a thing for hair, taking the strands and wrapping them around his fingers, giving each a slight tug that you could feel at the base of your skull.

His other hand moved to untie your obi, the relief instant as it dropped away. It felt like you could finally breathe fully again, greedy lungs taking in large gulps of air. Your ribs would likely have some bruising from just how tight they’d done the obi for the wedding. His hands crept up the length of your left arm, pressure applied as if feeling your outline, before sliding his hand under the fold of your kimono and grabbing your breast.

"Just relax," he whispered, his breath hot, fanning over your skin.  His nose brushed your ear as he leaned in closer, lips nearing your neck. You couldn’t help but to tense.

His teeth sank into your scent gland, and the pain that followed was indescribable. Naoya’s canines were large and sharp. You had seen them every time he spoke or smiled. Pearlescent white panes gleamed in the light, but nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of them piercing your skin. It was like a branding iron searing into your skin, burning the flesh and charring your skin. Your limbs turn to stone, trembling uncontrollably as every muscle in your body tensed, released, and tensed again in waves. 

Your skin felt clammy, a cold sweat breaking out across your entire body and your mind struggled to process the sensation. There was slickness pooling between your legs. The mark was spurring on a heat, your body acting in its most primal way. 

“Stop it hurts” You cry out, voice wobbling from the fear and pain, body contorting violently, instinctively, trying to escape from him. 

Naoya smacks your breast with a force that leaves a handprint instantly against your skin. He bites down harder, teeth sinking even deeper in, the wound tearing open even wider as you writhe around. Finally, a white-hot flash of pleasure begins to course through you, biology taking its hold. It goes from nerve-splitting pain to a warm wash of arousal in a second. Blinking feels like minutes. 

He pulled back from your neck, eyes feral, brow furrowed in a savage expression. Blood stains his mouth. It pools around his lips and paints them a brilliant scarlet, before trailing down in a rivulet that snakes past his chin, down his neck, and into the folds of his yukata. 

“Never tell me what to do again. Do you understand?” His voice is a growl, low and menacing, as his grip tightens on your breast, twisting it to emphasize his point. As if the authority in his voice wasn’t enough. 

You whine, unable to bear his disapproval, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Gasping, you nuzzle against his neck. He smells so good. Spice cloves, sandalwood, and cedar on a winter’s night. “I’ll be good.” 

He lowers his head again, lips curled in a cruel grin, fangs bared. His voice drips with a mix of menace and satisfaction as he whispers, “Now, relax.”

This time, you force yourself to comply, doing your best to let your body go limp. It works better than before. Despite the fear you feel towards him, arousal pumps through your veins. A flood of endorphins courses through them, making every touch cause your skin to tingle and send waves of pleasure straight to your core. It makes your head spin and your limbs heavy. Your skin prickles with a heat that feels almost unbearable, making you itch with a desperate need for release.

It's too hard to keep your eyelids open; they are far too heavy, but you don’t trust Naoya enough to close them. What would he do if you closed them? Your blood feels thick like syrup, molasses sluggishly pulsing. A moan escapes your lips, low, breathy, and drawn out, that pitches into a whine as Naoya releases his grip on your neck and licks the wound closed with rough strokes of his tongue. He swirls the tip around each puncture wound, dipping the tip into it before doing so to the next.

“See? If you had just listened, it would have been this good from the start,” he murmurs, his voice a soft, mocking caress. He pinches your nipple sharply. Your head lolls against his chest, too heavy to hold up.

“Oh ho ho,” he laughs, the sound vibrating through your body. “Someone’s going into heat.”

It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as Naoya manhandles you. He tilts your head to the other side. The top half of your kimono is completely off, leaving your skin exposed to the cold, biting air of his room. Sweat beads on every inch of your skin. You struggle to keep your eyes from closing, fighting the overwhelming sensations that flood your body. You feel Naoya’s teeth graze against your other scent gland, the sharp sting of his teeth scraping against the skin but he doesn’t bite down. 

Instead, he laps and laps and laps at your neck, his tongue moving in languid, deliberate strokes as if devouring an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Whimpers flow out of you like water from a stream, and your pussy flutters around nothing. 

Naoya squeezes you roughly, his hands greedily exploring your body. His touch is rough and demanding, large hands groping at your curves like he’s a man starved for flesh as he fondles your breasts, squeezing your nipples, making them stand erect from the stimulation. He likes you gasps and whines, the fat of your breasts squishing under the expanse of his hands as he toys with them. Likes the heft of them, meaty and heavy, makes him growl low in the back of his throat in approval. He can picture them swelling with milk that would nourish his heir and make them strong. He’d sample the source, suckle straight from your teat, and make sure his heifer was quality.

“My little breeding bitch,” he murmurs, his voice dark. 

Naoya’s hand slips down your front, his fingers finding the slick pool of arousal in your pussy. He pumps a finger in, meeting no resistance, then slides in a second easily, your pussy oh so inviting.

“Fuck, you’re ready for me already.” He chuckles, the wet squelch of your pussy sounding out with each movement of his fingers. “Such a desperate little whore. I bet you can’t wait to feel my knot, hmm? Say it.”

Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth, the effort to speak almost insurmountable, speech slurred and your words mumbled. His impatience manifests in a swift, sharp strike to your clit, making you cry out in a mix of pain and anticipation. Through the haze, you manage to speak. 

“I can’t wait to feel your knot,” you manage to gasp out, biting the tip of your tongue in the process. It swells fat. 

It's been so long since you’d had a heat. Suppressants had been shoved onto you after your first one almost nine years ago. You don’t remember this first stage of preheat being so delirious, so inconsistent, so in control and out of it as you lean back against him and let him fondle your breasts.

His fingers feel divine as they pump in and out of you, accompanied by a scissoring motion that sends shivers down your spine. The feeling is almost enough to distract you from the rough way he's pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers. He pulls at them like he doesn’t care if it hurts, like he wants it to hurt, and it does. 

Your hips buck involuntarily against his hand, your body moving on it as you chase your high. Whimpers fall from your lips, needy desperate cries that only egg on his treatment towards you. He likes you like this, all whiny and under his palm.

With a rough tug, he pushes the rest of your kimono off, leaving you bare and vulnerable against his fully clothed body. His hands are slick with your arousal, glistening fingers curled into you and smearing moisture down his forearm as you shamelessly use his hand for your pleasure. Your knees ache from the position, thighs straining with each thrust of your hips, muscles trembling on the edge of release. It's so close that the edge of your vision goes black as you tilt ever so slightly forward, and then it happens.

Your orgasm rips through you, your whole body locks, walls clenching around his fingers as you come crashing down. A flood of slick spills out, drenching the futon beneath you. The sage green is now a deep forest green, damp and warm to the touch from how much came out of you. It’s hard to breathe, chest heaving as you try to suck in the air. 

"Messy bitch. Look at what you've done," Naoya tsks at you, even as you jerk in his arms you can tell he’s less angry and more amused by it. With a push, he sends you forward, your front pressing into the wet spot, his fingers sliding out of your pussy. "Clean it up," he orders, his voice dripping with command.

It takes a long moment to catch your breath, to remember how to be a person and move, but you grab the edge of your kimono to pat dry the area when Naoya smacks the globe of your ass. 

“Not with that.”

You stare at the spot for a second. If not the kimono there was only one other thing that could be it.  

You begin to kitten lick at your slick. It's egregiously sweet, like a potent concentrate of your scent amplified to an overwhelming degree. The flavor makes your stomach turn, threatening to gag you with its intensity. You’ve no idea how any alpha enjoys the flavor this much. 

Naoya's gaze never strays from you as he begins to undress, his movements lazy and relaxed. He’s enjoying the show, reducing you to this. Rising to his feet, he pads across the room to hang his yukata on a nearby stand. He only breaks eye contact with you for the brief moment it takes to drape his garment properly. Your wedding kimono, three times the price of his own, is lying in a pile near you on the floor.

Even with his back turned, you don't stop licking up the puddle of slick. Your tongue scrapes softly against the futon, gathering the lingering wetness to swallow down with a quiet gag. The only sound in the room is your tongue against the fabric and your soft breathing.

A soft, small smile on his face when he looks at you next. His inner Alpha is pleased you’ve kept at your assigned task without being told to. His cocks hard, uncut and dribbling pre-cum, knot starting to swell at the base, eyes going over the curve of your back, the globes of your ass in the air, and the continuous trail of simmering slick dripping out of your needy hole.

He closed the distance, cock bobbing with each step. Dropping to one knee, one hand comes to rest on the meat of your ass, the other pressing down between your shoulder blades to push your chest further into the futon. The fabric rubs uncomfortably against your hardened nipples. 

For a moment he just sits there, massaging the meat of your ass before his fingers sink in, hard enough to leave bruises in the morning. Then, without warning, he reels back, from the corner of your eye you see his shoulder muscles tense before his arm is launched forward, palm connecting with your ass in a volatile crack that rings out in the room. Pain explodes a hot white.  

“Count them,” he orders with a smile as you begin to cry.

"One," you gasp out, the word a struggle to form.

His palm connects again, the blow landing a little higher on your cheek.

"Two."

The next strike comes before you can fully process the previous, his hand falling in a swift, merciless rhythm.

"Three."

"Four." The word is a sob this time, the pain starting to overwhelm.

The fifth smack seems to sting more than the first three, the imprint of his wedding ring starting to dig in. You can feel the metal biting into your skin, a cool counterpoint to the burning heat.

"F-five."

He stops for a moment to collect slick on his fingers. “Fucking filthy slut. I knew you’d be one.” Naoya smears the slick over the burning heat of your ass, his tone approving despite what he says. 

"Six," you manage, the word a broken gasp.

The next smack seems to shatter the air, his hand coming down with renewed force.

"Seven."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, vision starting to blur. But you keep counting.

"Eight."

"Nine."

The final blow lands, his palm cracking down.

"Ten."

You collapse forward, your body spent and trembling. The humiliation of being treated like this, reduced to a mere object, burns through you. What makes it worse is how desperately your body craves him, even as your heartbeat hammers in your ass and tears stream down your face, snot bubbling at your nose. The omega in you wants nothing more than to please him, to make him happy. You need to make him happy, so he'll know you, claim you as his own.

Biology was a curse. 

"Do you know what you did wrong?" His voice is low, rough with dominance. Oh, how it hurt to hear him so mad at you. Why was he so mad at you? 

Your mind races, trying to answer the question. "No?"

"You came without permission. Are you going to do that again?" There's a warning in his tone, a promise of punishment if you disobey again.

"No." The word escapes your lips, a whispered promise of submission. You whine for him, lower into yourself, pheromones reeking of just how sorry you are. 

Naoya's hand tightens in your hair, pulling your chest off the futon, forcing your back into an arch. Your muscles tremble with the strain, too exhausted from the heat to sustain such a position for long. A whine builds in your throat, begging him to finally take you, to knot you, breed you.

"Then prove it."

He smacks your ass again, one last time for good measure, before dropping your hair. You catch yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself for him. Naoya's hands grab your hips, one positioning you to align with the head of his cock, the other stroking his length. After he's gotten you through this first wave of heat, he'll have you choke on his cock, make you take it to the back of your throat and swallow, see what he's working with and what he'll have to train, but for now, he'll start with your pussy.

The tip of his cock feels too big against your hole, even after he's fingered you. Tensing comes naturally as it catches on your entrance, anticipation, need, and fear running through you. The flared tip feels like it's going to split you in two as he begins to press into you. He flares out in the middle, his shaft thicker there, making you moan as he begins to bottom out in you. His size is almost overwhelming, the stretch bordering on pain. If you weren’t in a pre-heat it would most definitely be painful. 

He's kind enough to insert himself into you slowly, not wanting to damage your insides and ruin his chances of getting you pregnant. You can feel every inch of him as he slowly rolls his hips for the first time, experimenting with how much he can fit inside you. Moans come like spring rain, a sure thing, as he inserts himself. He pushes into you slowly, relishing in the way you clench and spasm around him. He’s so gentle compared to earlier, it makes your head spin. Your cries echo in the room, music to his ears. Once he's bottomed out, he stills.

A mix of a choked moan and a sob tumbles out of your lips. You can't tell if it hurts or feels so good you've surpassed feeling entirely. Your pussy flutters around him, suctioning him tighter as he pulls out. 

"Fuck, you're tight," Naoya grunts, his hands grabbing your hips for leverage. "Beg for my cum, bitch."

His voice is rough like gravel, little pebbles tumbling down your spine. 

"Please, fill me," you moan, tears spilling from your eyes. "Please, Naoya-sama, cum inside me. Breed me so that I might give you an heir." The words spill out of you, a desperate plea for him to claim you, to make you his. You can't even find it in yourself to beg him anymore, the words just spilling out. It all feels too much, overwhelmingly full, and yet still not enough. Your body screams for release, desperately for his knot, for the satisfaction that only an alpha can give you. 

Naoya slams his hips into you, harder and faster than he has before, his balls slapping against your clit. His pace picks up, your arms giving out as he continues to set a brutal pace, thrusting deep and powerful. Each thrust feels like he's close to hitting against your cervix, but he never does. It feels like your whole body is shaking, like you've been set to vibrate. You don't know when one moan starts and another stops. Vision blurring at the edges, the only thing that matters is the narrow point in the world where your skin meets his. All that exists is the feeling of him inside you, his hand on your hips, the sweat on your skin, the need. 

The way that his thick cock rubs against your walls sends jolts of electricity down your spine. Every time he pulls back, you clench down, trying to keep him in you. He's not even fully seated inside of you and your whole body trembles, his cock filling you up. It’s impossibly full, you feel like you’re going to split apart at the seams as your pussy works to milk him. 

He smacks your ass again, the opposite cheek. "You're mine, remember that. Nothing but my little bitch to breed."

He fucks you harder, lifting one of your hips to angle himself deeper. This allows him to rub directly against your g-spot, electric shocks firing on every nerve in your body. Every time he pulls back, you clench down, trying to keep him in you. He's not even fully seated inside of you and your whole body trembles. The sensation is overwhelming, each motion pushing you further and further into the depths of your heat. 

The room is filled with the sound of wet squelching and flesh meeting flesh, your body now rocking back to meet his every thrust, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. Naoya's thrusts become more frantic, his movements more sporadic. He's close, his knot swelling. The thought of being knotted by him makes you gush, juices flowing over his cock and staining the sheets below. You feel your orgasm building, a tsunami approaching the shoreline. Your entire body is a livewire, humming with tension. 

It's then you notice the mirror that faces you. It's huge, covering half the wall, showing everything. Naoya lifts your chest, then hooks his fingers into the sides of your mouth and pulls them taut. It feels like your lips are going to crack with the strain, stings like sand sanitizer in a paper cut. You let out a low moan, drool dripping down the front of your body and pooling on the mattress beneath you. Your cheeks are flushed, eyes glassy, there’s an unmistakable handprint on your breast from earlier, and if you could see your ass, it’d be the same. There’s a glow to your skin from your heat, makes you shiny and supple. Makes you breedable. 

"You're so much prettier when you smile, omega." His voice is low, rough with arousal.

He lets go of your mouth and just props you up, one hand around your chest to do so. It's you who holds the smile instead, a wild look in your eyes. 

Naoya keeps thrusting, and it's like the world around you fades away as his cock stretches your walls, and the edge of his knot catches on your hole with each deep thrust. It's big. Bigger than the toys you've had, bigger than the ones you've heard of, you don't know if it's going to fit. A flicker of fear passes over you, but it's quickly overwhelmed by desire and discarded. 

His other hand reaches around and rubs your sensitive clit, flicking it back and forth. You're so close to cumming, heartbeat hammering down in your pussy. Each pass of his fingers sends sparks through your system, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

"Cum for me, slut. Milk my cock. Scream for your Alpha." His words are a command, a demand for your pleasure.

You cry out, your body giving in to the pleasure, wave after wave of orgasm crashing down on you, your entire body going limp. Naoya pays it no mind, only holds your hips up as you fall limp, using you like a fleshlight. It feels like he's going to break you as he fucks you through your orgasm and finally pushes his knot inside you, your pussy convulsing around it. 

A wickedly delicious kind of pain, the type to leave you breathless. 

He keeps thrusting, his range limited, his knot locking the two of you together before he finally comes, his breath hitching. Hot ropes of cum paint your insides. It feels like it's too much cum to fit inside you, like it's going to spill out, but his knot keeps it firmly in place. His grip on your hips feels like it's going to break your bones, his nails drawing blood. He grunts for a few minutes, rocking his hips, milking his cock out with your pussy, before finally stopping.

Naoya bends over you and licks the shell of your ear before nibbling it. "You're never going to get away from me. You're mine to use, mine to abuse. You'll never get to leave me." He rocks his hips again, cock twitching inside you. "You won't be alone for long though, pretty girl." 

©️ uzuzrimisery

a massive thank you to my beta readers @craftycheetah @rii-bows @lovelyroseybunny and my friend cas who i dm'd weekly about this fic for over a month insecure about writing omegaverse

[frostfires-blog]

MXTX Fanart Hanakotoba Analysis

So, I came across this absolutely stunning artwork depicting the six main characters from MXTX's three novels—SVSSS, MDZS and TGCF respectively—as different flowers. I asked the original artist, @Huaihua610715, if I could repost it here and analyse it, and they gave me permission. Please support the original post on Twitter as well.

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-> 1.) SVSSS

1.1) Luo Binghe × Hydrangea (Hydrangea macrophylla)

In this artwork, Luo Binghe is represented with a red Hydrangea macrophylla flower. Although its name means "water vessel" in Greek, this flower is native to East Asia. Given that their colour saturation varies depending on the availability of aluminium ions in the soil, Hydrangea macrophylla flowers function as natural soil pH indicators. In acidic soils, the flowers range from blue to purple, whereas in alkaline soils, they range from red to pink.

➞ 1.1.1) Hydrangea symbolism:

In Japanese hanakotoba, hydrangeas are associated with fickleness, callousness, heartlessness, ruthlessness, pride, patience, and patient affection. White hydrangeas symbolise tolerance—while red hydrangeas are associated with strong love. The hydrangea's symbolism of "fickleness" is derived from its flowers' ability to change colour based on soil pH—while its symbolism of "patience" stems from its long flowering period. In China, hydrangeas are associated with gratitude, hope, happy reunions, pride, long-term love, forgiveness, apologies and heartfelt emotions. Red hydrangeas are associated with abundance and prosperity. In Western floriography, hydrangeas symbolise frigidity, heartlessness, boastfulness, "you are cold" and "thank you for understanding". White hydrangeas in particular symbolise purity, grace and abundance. Red hydrangeas are associated with boldness, love, passion, devotion, adoration, loyalty and desire.

➞ 1.1.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

In the SVSSS novel, Shen Qingqiu frequently compares Luo Binghe to a lotus—characterising him as a pure, white lotus during his time as a disciple at Qing Jing Peak and as a black lotus following his return from the Endless Abyss—however, the artist opted to depict him as a red hydrangea instead. This is primarily because the hydrangea's ability to change colour depending on soil pH mirrors the shift in Luo Binghe's character throughout the narrative—just like the analogy of a white lotus becoming a black lotus does. The hydrangea's representations of pride, fickleness, ruthlessness, boldness, frigidity, heartlessness and prosperity resonate with Luo Binghe's turbulent personality. Additionally, the flower's symbolism of passion, long-term love, forgiveness, gratitude, patient love, devotion, adoration, loyalty and desire greatly correspond with his feelings towards Shen Qingqiu.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe's and the hydrangea flower's names are both derived from water—with Luo Binghe being named after the river where his adoptive mother found him while hydrangeas are named after the Greek work for "water vessel" because of their bowl-like shape.

1.2) Shen Yuan | Shen Yuan × Four-season orchid (Cymbidium ensifolium)

In this artwork, Shen Qingqiu is represented with a Cymbidium ensifolium flower. This flower is more commonly referred to as the Four-season orchid, golden-thread orchid, spring orchid, burned-apex orchid and rock orchid. This orchid has been cultivated for over 2000 years in China and Japan and is renowned for its exquisite foliage and delicate, sweet, and lasting scent.

➞ 1.2.1) Flower Symbolism:

In Japanese hanakotoba, this flower is associated with grace, glory, purity, elegance and nobility. Its symbolism is primarily derived from its delicate, sweet fragrance and intricate blossoms. In China, this orchid symbolises dignity, integrity, nobility, self-restraint, morality, resilience, strength and humility—all of which are regarded as the attributes of an ideal gentleman. Ancient Chinese philosophers regard orchids as a representation of "the self-cultivation of a gentleman who adheres to moral principles even in destitution" because these plants grow in secluded forests devoid of admirers yet continue to emit a charming aroma. In Western floriography, four-season orchids represent elegance, virtue, nobility, refinement as well as "pure, valued and respected friendship".

➞ 1.2.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

Although Shen Qingqiu is not canonically associated with any particular flower, the Four-season orchid's white and green palate corresponds with his white and green colour scheme. Additionally, this orchid's symbolic representations of grace, elegance, self-restraint, refinement and resilience resonate with Shen Qingqiu's outward personality.

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-> 2.) MDZS

2.1) Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji × Yulan Magnolia (Magnolia denudata)

In this artwork, Lan Wangji is depicted with a branch of Yulan magnolia (Magnolia denudata) flowers. This flower is native to central and eastern China and its Chinese name yùlánhuā (玉兰花) translates to jade orchid/lily.

➞ 2.1.1) Flower Symbolism:

In Japanese hanakotoba, magnolias are associated with sustainability, persistence, sublimeness and a "love for nature". In China, magnolias symbolise dignity, perseverance, beauty, purity and honour. In addition to being a component in traditional medicine, magnolias symbolise the onset of spring and are believed to confer good fortune and happiness.  In Western floriography, magnolia flowers represent perseverance, dignity, honour, majesty, pride, and nobility.

➞ 2.1.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

MDZS is the richest MXTX novel in terms of flower symbolism. Lan Wangji has been canonically associated with magnolia and gentian flowers in official artwork. Furthermore, magnolias are repeatedly noted to grow in the Gusu Lan clan's Cloud Recesses—particularly near the library pavilion where Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian studied in their youth. The magnolia’s symbolic associations with nobility, perseverance, persistence, beauty, dignity and honour tie in well with Lan Wangji's character. Additionally, the magnolia's white flowers contrasted against the clear blue sky, are reminiscent of Lan Wangji's white and blue colour scheme. The magnolia's Chinese name translates to "orchid/jade lily" which corresponds with Lan Wangji being hailed as one of the Lan's "Twin Jades".

2.2) Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian × Peony (Paeonia sp.)

In the artwork, Wei Wuxian is depicted as a red peony (Paeonia sp.). Peonies have been cultivated in China since the seventh century for their luxurious, aromatic flowers, which range from white, pink to crimson. Although China has not established an official national flower—in spite of various electoral attempts and suggestions—the peony was considered the national flower during the late Qing dynasty.

➞ 2.2.1) Flower Symbolism:

In Japanese hanakotoba, peonies are associated with shyness, wealth, bravery, and regalness. The peony's association with wealth and regalness stems from its multitudes of large, silk-like petals. In China, peonies are hailed as the "king of flowers" and the "flower of riches and honour". They symbolise honour, wealth, prosperity, beauty, love and happiness in Chinese culture. Red peonies are associated with good fortune and prosperity in China. In Western floriography, peonies represent bashfulness, shame, prosperity, compassion and a happy marriage. Red peonies in particular symbolise passion, desire, honour, romance,

➞ 2.2.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

Although peony flowers are heavily associated with the Jin Clan in the MDZS novel, they are also canonically linked with Wei Wuxian. During the Siege Hunt at Mount Baifeng, Wei Wuxian throws a pink peony to Lan Wangji amidst the parade. Later, while on a trip to Yunmeng, the latter once again encounters Wei Wuxian who throws him another pink peony. In this audio drama adaptation of this scene, Wei Wuxian asks a ghost woman what the meaning of peony is, and she responds that it means "wishing you would return my feelings" or to part with a heavy heart." Years later, following Wei Wuxian's death and resurrection, he finds a pressed peony flower that Lan Wangji uses as a bookmark. Given Lan Wangji's sentimental nature, this peony is undoubtedly one of those given to him by Wei Wuxian. Aside from the peony's dark red petals matching Wei Wuxian's colour scheme, its symbolism of passion, honour, compassion, bravery and happiness greatly complement Wei Wuxian's character. During the long debate to decide China's national flower one of the proposed solutions was the "One Country, Five Flowers" system. This concept entailed designating the peony as the primary national flower while having an additional four supplementary flowers symbolising the four seasons: chrysanthemums for autumn, plum blossoms for winter, orchids for spring, and lotuses for summer. While this may be a reach, I find the peony standing over four other flowers somewhat analogous to the cultivation world's crusade against the Yiling Patriarch, in which Wei Wuxian opposed the combined might of the four major clans—namely the Jin, Jiang, Nie, and Lan.

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-> 3.) TGCF

3.1) Hua Cheng × Camellia (Camellia sp.)

In this artwork, Hua Cheng is depicted as a red Camellia (Camellia sp.) flower. Camellias are native to the tropical and subtropical regions of southern and eastern Asia. Various species of camellias have been cultivated for centuries not only for their beautiful flowers but also for tea and woody-oil production. Camellia flowers range from pure white to soft pink to deep red. With proper care, camellia plants can live for many years. It is said that the camellias around the emperor’s palace in Japan are known to be more than 500 years old.

➞ 3.1.1) Flower Symbolism:

In Japanese hanakotoba, camellias are associated with modest kindness, pride, eternal love and enduring love. Red camellias in particular symbolise love, humble virtue, modest splendour, unpretentious grace and "perishing with grace" in hanakotoba. Pink camellias represent love, modesty, beauty, longing and missing someone. On the other hand, white camellias symbolise waiting, impeccable charm complete beauty and supreme loveliness. In China, camellias symbolise admiration, perfection, everlasting love and the "perfect union between lovers". Red camellias symbolise happiness, good luck and protection in Chinese culture. Camellias are associated with everlasting love, marital bliss and perfect unions between lovers because, unlike most other flowers, the calyx and petals of a camellia flower don't separate when its flower wilts. In Western floriography, camellias are associated with constancy, steadfastness, perfect loveliness, unpretending excellence, adoration, longing, admiration and perfection. Red camellias in particular are associated with passion, love and desire.

➞ 3.1.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

Although Hua Cheng is not canonically associated with camellia flowers, I've always thought that they greatly complemented him. The camellia flower's association with perfect unions, passion, love, desire, longing, adoration, admiration and enduring, everlasting love perfectly encapsulate Hua Cheng's feelings towards Xie Lian. Just as the calyx and petals of a camellia flower remain together, Hua Cheng has forever remained Xie Lian's "most devoted believer". Additionally, the camellia's representation of steadfastness, unpretending excellence, good fortune, protection, impeccable charm and pride greatly resonate with Hua Cheng's character. Camellia flowers also symbolise "perishing with grace," and Hua Cheng has declared that dying in battle for Xie Lian would be his greatest honour—he has already upheld this assertion by dying three times for Xie Lian.

Furthermore, the camellia flower's contradictory symbolism of pride and modesty mirrors how Hua Cheng's confidence and boldness are toned back when it comes to Xie Lian, with whom he reveals a far more vulnerable and genuine side of himself.

3.2) Xie Lian × Tianshan snow lotus (Saussurea involucrata)

In the artwork, Xie Lian is depicted as the rare and precious Tianshan snow lotus (Saussurea involucrata). Just as its name suggests, this flower is native to the Tianshan Mountains of China where it is known as Tiānshān Xuělián (天山雪蓮). It grows at altitudes near 4000 meters, in frigid and low-oxygen conditions, among ice-streaked rock fissures. It is a valuable ingredient in traditional Uyghur, Mongolian, Kazakh and Chinese medicine and has been hailed as the "king of all herbs" and "best medicine" by locals. In China, this flower has historically inspired songs, poetry, and legends, wherein it is thought to possess magical properties that extend life. These flowers are threatened due to climate change and over-harvesting.

➞ 3.2.1) Flower Symbolism:

Tianshan snow lotuses are associated with pure love, tenacity, purity, holiness, resilience, renewal, spiritual awakening and "bringing hope to people" in China. The Tianshan snow lotus, which grows at high altitudes under arduous conditions, is thought to symbolise that "beauty and purity can arise even in the most challenging circumstances".

➞ 3.2.2) Discussion of symbolism appropriateness:

Xie Lian is known as the "The Flower-Crowned Martial God: Sword in One Hand, Flower in the Other" and as such he is canonically associated with several different flowers, one of which being the Tianshan snow lotus. Ironically Qi Rong is the character who constantly compares Xie Lian to a Tianshan snow lotus. However, Qi Rong derisively calls Xie Lian a "blackhearted snow lotus" which holds the implication that the latter's compassion is nothing but a façade to mask his malicious motivations. Qi Rong uses the snow lotus as a metaphor not just because of its cultural connotations but also because its Chinese name "Xue Lian" is phonetically similar to Xie Lian's name, despite the differing hanzi. Despite Qi Rong's ill intent, I do think the Tianshan snow lotus greatly complements Xie Lian's character. The Tianshan snow lotus' symbolism of tenacity, resilience, renewal, hope and pure love particularly resonates with Xie Lian character. Xie Lian's character arc greatly encapsulates the idea that "beauty and purity can arise even in the most challenging circumstances"—in the same way as the Tianshan snow lotus. Despite enduring immense hardship and being exposed to the worst qualities of humanity; Xie Lian still found himself moved by one person's kindness. His desire to help others and compassion remain steadfast, despite having been subjected to numerous trials and tribulations.

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╰┈➤Hanakotoba Post Directory

╰┈➤TGCF Hanakotoba P1 & TGCF Hanakotoba P2

╰┈➤ MDZS Hanakotoba P1 & MDZS Hanakotoba P2

I changed up my usual style with this post so hopefully, no one has any issues with the format and tone changes. If anyone has any requests or questions feel free to drop a comment below or send me an ask. For anyone new, I uploaded the links to my previous hanakotoba posts above, enjoy!

[thebestsetter]

If Isagi knew his old teammate had invited him to hang out just to talk shit, he would have thought twice about coming.

"I mean, c'mon dude!" Tada, one of the players from his old team, said "You scored an excuse-me goal like that with pure luck and nothing else!"

"Excuse-me goal...?" Isagi muttered, clearly confused about what his friend meant

"Yeah! You used up all your luck on that one, not gonna lie"

If it had ended like that, Isagi would have still managed to accept it.

People have different views about his plays, so it's okay for him to think it was pure luck. He's probably just too stupid to even understand what Isagi did, even if he explained it to him.

Isagi would be just fine if his teammate didn't say anything else.

If only Tada had stopped there.

"And don't even get me started about your sudden relationship!" He said, smirking at Isagi "(Name), isn't it? Japan U-20's manager who trained the Blue Lock team for a while?" He nudged Yoichi with his shoulder "She's hot, bro. Man, you're just way too lucky! This amount of fortune should be illegal or something!"

Luck? Luck?

Isagi was dumbfounded. He didn't even react to what the guy said.

The beginning of your relationship wasn't based on his luck. If anything, it started because of how unlucky he is.

Because honestly, he doesn't want anyone to know that you two met because he entered the wrong restroom.

The restrooms were still being built in the blue lcok facility and all, so there weren't any signs indicating which was the female's one and which was the male's. Therefore, it was a 50/50 chance of entering the right one. The men's one.

Also, most people on the facility were men. There were basically only 2 girls: you, a manager who had already worked on Japan's U-20 and was just curious about the Blue Lock project, and Anri, Blue Lock's official manager. What was the possibility that he'd enter the wrong bathroom and see any of you two there?

It seemed pretty high, actually.

And he hates this story because not only did he enter the wrong bathroom, he managed to convince you this was the men's one and that the other one was for the women.

Let's just say you both ended up bounding over restroom trauma.

See? It isn't a cute, movie-like love story.

Luck? There was no way he got with you by being lucky. He fought for you.

He was the one who suggested you should be Blue Lock's manager for a short period of time. He was the one who had to build up courage to ask for your phone number after training with you for weeks. He was the one who dedicated the last goal of the match to you, all sweating and smiling.

Luck? Be for fucking real. Isagi knit the threads of fate himself until all he could see in it was your name and face.

But, sometimes, he thought about your relationship deeper. Because if he met you through his mischance, why does it feel so great to have you in his arms?

According to the dicitionary, bad luck is "an unfortunate state that results from unfavorable outcomes". When he looks at you, though, arms stretching towards him, he doesn't see any "unfavorable outcome".

Was it really bad luck, after all? Or was it all his luck dressed up as misfortune?

"Isagi? You good there, man?" Tada asked, waving his hand in front of Isagi's face

Yoichi finally smiled, looking at his former teammate after snapping out of his daydreams.

"You know what? Maybe I am, indeed, very lucky"

You know what they say: unlucky in cards, lucky in love.

But when Yoichi comes home, seeing you in his jersey, cooking for him and watching one of his old games, he can't help but wonder.

Maybe he's lucky in both.