#character X you
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nicherayyy · 2 days ago
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I loved your post on La Squadra with a Power teammate, can you do one with the bucci gang? Thank you!! ❤️❤️
Of course, anon!
By the way guys happy New Year!!!
Bucci Gang & Power-like teammate hcs
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Bruno's still shocked he let them in the team
It all started when he saw them near the dumpster, having a fight with a stray dog for a piece of salami
And of course, with good intentions at heart he treated them for a nice and filling meal at a restaurant
Do you know the situation when you feed a stray cat and it just... never leaves?
Basically, that is what happened.
They followed Bruno around because quote "I like free food.. and your ugly-ass bowl cut is funny as hell"
Leone: ..Bucciarati, who's that punk?
Bruno: Don't even ask
Leone: Want me to take care of this?
Bruno: ...No. No need
Yeah, they let themselves into the team without any invitation
They don't feel any shame about it.
It was such a relief for Bruno to discover that they actually have a stand
Cause honestly, hanging around stand users without having a stand is kind of.. dangerous?
Bruno: So, what is your stand like?
Teammate: ...I'm not telling you
Bruno: ...Why?
Teammate: you'll need to pay me if you want to know anything about my stand
I think it'd be the same situation as with La Squadra
The teammate would not show up to any meeting
Exception: they'll show up if there's exactly the type of food they like
Or if they want to piss off Leone
One of their favourite activities, truly
But at this point Leone is immune to all the attempts of getting a reaction out of him
(The only thing he's not immune to is their smell)
Teammate: Your stand is lame
Leone: Okay
Teammate: ..And my stand is better than yours
Leone: Good for you
I think we all know that Leone would NOT seek their company
So he minimises any interaction he might have with the teammate
Same thing with Fugo and Giorno
I swear, it's the first time Leone ever agreed with Giorno
Fugo gets bonus points because he makes them take a shower at least once a week
They have no choice in the matter, either a shower or a garden hose
So.. yeah.. the teammate is too much of a headache for those three
Mista is not really fond of them either
I mean, he used to like to joke around with them
...Until the teammate found out about his numerophobia
Teammate: This cake is awesome, I could eat... let's say, at least FOUR more pieces
They make sure to say the number as loud as possible too
Narancia thinks they're kind of mean
But he still enjoys their jokes
He even hanged out with them once or twice
They made him steal a pretzel.
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nightdncer · 3 months ago
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“ OOPS , TYPO !! ”
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✦ characters : Satoru Gojo , Suguru Geto , Higuruma Hiromi , Choso Kamo , Toji Fushiguro , Sukuna Ryomen , Ino Takuma {new character!} , Nanami Kento
✦ warnings : smut , typos {purpose} , fem!reader , fem!reader x character , pet names , cusses , mature content {18+} ~ I will not be blocking anymore, just don’t blame me if you get in trouble !
*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦
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cupidkyu · 2 months ago
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can you repost the top Kinich hcs PLEASE
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DOM TOP KINICH HCS
— gn!reader, brat taming implied,mean kinich,org4sm denial(?), degradation, overstim.
ts took so long 2 answer but yes,idk why it keeps taking down my posts but here ya go!!!
kinich definitely degrades you in an indifferent tone, making you feel inferior compared to him, looking down at you with a boring gaze as he fucked into you m1ssionary.
and enjoys tying your hands together! he likes watching you squirm and struggle against the rope bounding both your wrists together while he acts all gentle with you,yet his tip presses so firmly against that spot,youre whimpering and wailing for him to go faster,he'll give it to you, don't worry. but just stay as a good little toy for him, okay?
“you're so annoying.” he'd sigh, thrusting so deliberately slowly,his eyes never laying off of you,his nails digging into your neck as your hips buck up against him so desperately,your mewls only turning him more each time,“please- I-.. ngh~ kinich- I'm sorry-” you'd apologize pathetically,so pathetically. “for what? for acting like a lil' bitch? or sorry for not being able to satisfy me?” he spat coldly, punctuating his words with a harsh slam this time, letting out a quiet groan as a squeal escaped from you. of course,he didn't mean what he said. he just loves watching you protest,he just loves your little 'i can,i promise!'s. can you blame him?
kinich loves watching you beg for release,you wanna squirt,you wanna spill,just for him. but he never lets you,at least not so fast. he likes watching tears drip down your eyes,your bottom lip shaky as you try your best to speak and plead for him to allow you to come. he'll fuck into you so roughly,but warning you that if you ej4culate without his permission, he'll punish you!
sure,he's a little mean when hes wrecking you senseless,but he still tries his best to show you he doesn't mean to harm you in any way! you are his darling lover after all. however,it doesn't mean he'll pass up on the offer of watching his pet crying and sobbing to release!!!
you were throbbing from both pain and pleasure,your eyes rolling back as you moan repeatedly. “c-..come- please- I wanna- hnf~..! wanna come-! please- I-” you'd stumble between your words as he kept pushing himself inside you, cocking his head to the side as he speaks,“no, I've already told you. you're not going to, unless I'm close.” you nod weakly,not wanting to upset your lover. he rubbed your waist softly to remind you that he loves you a lot,hiccups escaping your throat as you took his cock<3 but you couldn't help but immediately fold when he pushes a little bit to deep and rough inside you, causing you to shiver and cream, earning a disapproving look from him.
kinich bends you over the bed, changing the position a little. his finger twirls a strand of your hair as you cry from the harsh,messy treatment you're receiving from him. your eyes twitching uncontrollably when he keeps rubbing that one spot. your thighs covered in light red from how harsh he was spanking them.
he keeps your head down with one of his hands as he wrecks your hole, squeezing and clenching around him as your legs tremble from the nth or4gsm. globs of tears staining the bedsheets as he keeps you pinned down.
oh how pretty you looked when hes fucking you like there's no tomorrow, finally letting you come but with a catch,he makes you spill over and over! your hair is tugged,yanked,used as a handle for him to use,your neck covered in bruises and bites. you were filled,so full, completely full. you could feel his cock over and over again while you're full of his sem4n. “does it feel good,hm?” he'd ask, already knowing the answer,his free hand tracing your back,“y-..yesh! feels so- goood~..! s-soo good~” you'd blabber. you could suddenly feel his palm against your reddened thigh,you shrieked so adorably, earning a chuckle from him as he practically splits you in half. he shoved your face down against the bedsheets,your now whines muffled as he continues to ram himself inside you,how long will this last? who knows! but you just feel so much at once while hes tearing you apart,maybe he should focus on making his beloved come over and over again!>_<
@cupidkyu
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alavestineneas · 1 year ago
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Losing dogs
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pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader
summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k
Part 2 is here!
author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!
The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.
''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''
Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.
They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.
''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''
The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.
The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion. 
Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way. 
''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''
''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''
He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.
''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.
The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.
Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her. 
The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better. 
Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle. 
-
The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago. 
''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''
Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.
When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life. 
The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less. 
The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns. 
''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet. 
''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation. 
''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine. 
When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''
''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us." 
Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''
She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin. 
He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep. 
''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.
''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?
''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''
He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"
''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''
Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."
''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''
''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus." 
He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.
-
Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.
''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.
''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?" 
''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on." 
It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.
''You shouldn't accept.''
He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?" 
''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''
Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?" 
''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''
He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners. 
''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist. 
-
It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.
YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.
''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.
YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position." 
''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''
YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'
 "Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.
''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student." 
''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration. 
''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''
''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own." 
''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''
-
He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else. 
From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception. 
From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man. 
And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out? 
It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table. 
He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.
At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.
''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake. 
Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving. 
''You were having a nightmare again.''
He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"
''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense." 
He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.
''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''
YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her. 
There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?
Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.
As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.
-
The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.
They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success? 
YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.
It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful. 
That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.
''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''
YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish. 
Cabbage.
Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.
''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.'' 
The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''
YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air." 
She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit. 
-
The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her. 
After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.
"What do you think of me?"
His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.
"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."
She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.
"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time. 
"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."
Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"
"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."
YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.
"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"
He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring. 
"You want power."
Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.
"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."
The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"
"You."
He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.
"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."
Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.
There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.
"Feed me, then."
He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath. 
They were going to be just fine.
After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.
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etfrin · 7 months ago
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please, please, please • art donaldson
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nsfw: breeding kink, body worship, pinv sex, fingering, fem! reader, insecure! reader, soft sex, creampie | lmk if I forgot anything!
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What if Tashi came back?
This was a question that always haunted you.
She left you alone with Art and went away with Patrick. But the distance didn't seem enough. You feel like you're under her shadow even though she's not present in either of your lives anymore.
But you couldn't tell Art this. Your deepest insecurities. Your biggest fear is his first love.
How pathetic is that?
But tonight the fear won over.
Art was peacefully sleeping beside you. Your head was on his chest, and you felt the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat. You swallow, and whisper, “Art.”
He doesn't stir awake. You frown, hating that you have to be louder. Hating that you're so down on your self-esteem you need him to help you back up. You can't feel better otherwise and you don't want to fall into this black hole.
“Art!”
Art flinches awake.
“Is something wrong?” He asked, frantically looking around the dark room. His gaze lands on you. You shake your head.
“I wasn't feeling good,” you murmur.
“Are you feeling sick, love?”
You shake your head. You see Art furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “Then? What is it, love?”
“What if she comes back, Art?”
“Who?”
“Tashi.”
“Babe.”
You look into his eyes as you hear his soft voice ringing in your ears. It was filled with gentle, cautious love. It held the fact that whatever Art would say next would be the truth.
“The only one I want is you,” He whispered.
Art pressed his lips to your cheek before his lips traveled further down to your neck with each kiss. “The only one I love is you.”
He begins to gently suck the salty, pristine skin trying to leave a mark for tomorrow. You gasp, turning your head to give him better access. His hand gets under your t-shirt. A shiver passes down your spine as you feel the heat of his palm on your cold skin. He lifts your bra, freeing your left breast. He kneads the flesh with care, along with marking your neck with several, dark red love bites.
He pulls back, breathing hard. You look at him, his chest rising up and down. The blinders of windows weren't pulled so the moonlight was rushing through the room. It shined on Art. His pupils were wide, his lips parted as he took in air.
He pulls his t-shirt over his head. He threw it aside. “Sit up, love,” he said. You listen to him. He begins to undress you, first your t-shirt and then your bra. He feasts his eyes, blessing himself with your beauty.
“The one I need is you.”
You wrapped your arms around Art, giving him a messy kiss. Your tongue meets with his, and you moan into his mouth. The kiss is vulgar with the way you suck his tongue, taking in his taste as much as possible. You get on his lap, your panty-clad pussy pressing against his clothed hard cock.
It's crude, the kiss, saliva drips down your lips and falls onto his skin. Neither of you breaks the kiss, no matter how much of a mess it is creating for both of you. You begin to impatiently grind your soaking wet cunt against his cock. He groans your name into your lips. You grin, pushing him to the mattress.
His hands begin to fondle both of your breasts, his fingers twisting your nipples. He sits back up again, sucking onto your left nipple as he continues to tease your right one. He licks the patch of skin between your breasts, reaching your collarbone. His teeth sink into your flesh causing you to whimper his name.
Art hums as he begins to press kisses to your neck and finds your lips. Your kisses with him begin to become longer, your tongue tangled with his as your hands are on his shoulder. His hands travel down to your ass, cupping the bottom. He slips you off of your panties.
He pressed his palm in between the heat of your thighs. You let out a whine as you begin to grind your pussy against his hand, coating him with your juices. Your hand pulls at his hair as your hips get faster. You cry out when his fingers push into your walls. His digits press against your wall, again and again trying to find that one spot.
His fingers get faster, desperate. His digits go inside of you deeper than before, reaching the second knuckle. He was making you feel so full and you tell him so. Art chuckles in return. Then, suddenly, stars swim in your vision as your walls begin to squeeze his fingers.
“There it is,” Art grins.
Your walls clamp down on his digits. He smirks as he feels the living pulse of your sweet cunt. So desperate, so ready to cum over his fingers. Too bad he wanted it to be on his cock. He pulls out his fingers, they were shining from your arousal. You take his digits inside your mouth, closing your eyes as your tongue begins to lick up your taste from him.
He enjoys the show.
After it's over, he gently lays you down on the bed.
“I am gonna take you, okay?”
He waits for a yes.
You nod, and Art beautifully smiles at you. He gives you a peck on the forehead before he climbs on top of you. His boxers are around his knees, setting his leaking, hard cock free.
He lets out a gasp as he sinks inside of your wet, tight cunt. Your walls stretch as you take his length inside of you. You feel the twitch of his cock, you feel his pre-cum painting your walls. You whine, “Art, Art- move!”
He obliged. He does so with slow, deep strokes. Every thrust of his hips takes his cock out completely until only the head is in then he pushes it all back in again reaching your deepest spots. Each time he fucked into your pussy, he did it by savouring each second of it. He didn't take your sweet, tight cunt for granted. He doesn't take you for granted.
He gasps your name. One of his hands was holding both of your wrists on top of your head, pinned on the mattress. He had a match tomorrow, he knew if he let go, you'd mark his back. He can't have the marks right now. Maybe over the weekend, he'll let you do it as much as you want. His forehead is pressed against yours. Each time he sinks back in, he presses a kiss to your lips again and again.
You could feel the heat bottoming on your stomach. You were so close. You open your lips, welcoming Art's skilful tongue inside. He swipes around your tongue, taking his time as he speeds up just a bit. He could feel your pussy pulsating around him. He knew the telltale signs of you cumming. The hitch of your breath, the scent of your sweat, the sweetness of your lips. All of these were bringing Art closer to the edge too.
You begin to whine, “Ar- Art I am close. Baby- so close-” He hushes you. “I know, babe. Let go. I am here.”
You cry out his name as white flashes in your vision. You let go, your pussy spasming against his cock. Milking him for all his worth. Art gasps out your name as he thrusts into you. He gets sloppy and desperate. He wants to cum in you so bad. He had the sudden urge to knock you up. Make you a mama. That would be so good. It was a brilliant idea in his head. Instead of pulling out and coming onto your stomach. He stays, he stays and continues to fuck into your cunt. He whimpers as his cock begins to paint your walls white with his seed without any warning.
He doesn't stop. Art fucks you full of his cum.
Maybe making you a mom will help you stop worrying.
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rosemaryjmoriarty · 4 months ago
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"I'm not obsessed with this character anymore, therefore I don't like them as I used to"
No.
The reason you're not obsessed anymore is because your obsession has turned into something's more strong; love. They're not 24/7 in your mind, because they'll be forever in your heart.
You'll be obsessed with many characters, yes, some obsessions will fade, but those whom you really adore will always be with you.
So stop being so anxious, okay? Here's some cake :)
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crookedgalaxycandy · 10 months ago
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I swear "x reader" fanfic writers save lives. You feel lonely and touch starved? Get some cuddle content! Everything kinda sucks right now? This character want nothing more than to comfort you! And they do requests, FOR FREE?! They are some of the most creative creators I've seen. I always feel better reading yalls content. Makes me feel less alone. And for the people who are like "that's so cringe," you know what's more cringe? Criticising people having harmless fun.
"x reader" author appreciation!
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why-are-you-still-awake · 7 months ago
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Jealousy with the Naruto boys
A/n: I’ve seen this done multiple times so here’s my take on it :)
Warning/content: nothing :)
characters: Sasuke, Gaara, Sai
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Sasuke Uchiha
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☆ Sasuke claims to not be a jealous person, “he’s above that” as he puts it, but something about seeing you laughing and smiling with someone else makes him feel weird, insecure? No couldn’t be…. He likes to think that he’s just being overprotective and he’s not jealous, he believes he’s too good to be jealous and let’s be real, he’s far too prideful to admit he’s a little insecure. ☆
☆ One time when you guys were out in the Konoha market place, some person came up to you and started a casual conversation, but to Sasuke it seemed like this person was getting a little too close for comfort. So to solve this, he came up behind you and placed his arm over your shoulder giving the person a “can I help you?” Look, let’s say they didn’t stick around much longer. ☆
☆ If you try and bring up his jealous behavior, he’ll deny it adamantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just doesn’t trust other people. If we’re being honest here, he’s deeply afraid of losing you, to him you’re the only person he has left. So even when he’s being a jealous prick, it comes from a place of love even if he doesn’t outright express it. ☆
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Gaara
☆ He wouldn’t consider himself a jealous person by any means, he love you and you love him. He has no reason to be insecure or jealous, but even the kazekage struggles to be reasonable sometimes, he’s only human after all. He wouldn’t be very upfront about his feelings, if you noticed jealous behavior then you’d have to bring it up because he won’t talk about it first. ☆
☆ One time you were waiting for a council meeting to be over and you were in meeting room with him, it was very boring like watching paint dry would’ve been more entertaining. You soon notice a younger council member staring at you trying to get your attention and smiling at you, you politely smile back but then Gaara catches on to the silent interaction. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer while clearing his throat and continuing speaking. ☆
☆ If you ultimately decide to confront him about his momentary jealous behavior, he won’t deny it but will probably be very embarrassed he was caught doing something like that even if you reassure him that you’re not upset and may even find his jealous protectiveness attractive…..☆
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☆ He didn’t know anything really about relationships do to growing up in Root, so you and to guide him and explain things basically. Some might’ve found It tiring but you found it endearing to an extent. He had never experienced jealousy before until he saw you talking to someone else who seemed to be pretty funny because you couldn’t stop laughing, he had a weird feeling in his chest and it made him feel *strange* he didn’t understand.☆
☆ He decided to try and get to the bottom of this weird feeling in his chest, so he decided to just outright tell you how he was feeling, you were kinda surprised, but after breaking through the momentary freeze and explained it to him. He was surprised, he never thought he’d be jealous, he trusted you, he knew you’d never do anything to hurt him. ☆
☆ There’s no really confronting him about jealous behavior because he’s very honest about how he’s feeling, he definitely forgets appropriate time and place sometimes when he says something, he’s unintentionally a good communicator because of how honest he is and won’t beat around the bush with how he feels. He loves you and wants you to know. ☆
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A/n: I’ve never written for Sai before, so sorry if his part sucks. Thanks for reading, love u <3
Do not repost
Edit: thank you all who heart or reblogged or in someway interacted with this post, it means so much <33
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bearyzdiary · 10 months ago
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Milk and cookies
Francis x reader
This diary entry contains…Mentions of baking|Baker reader|Francis being a cutie pie|established relationship|Short little idea i had sitting in the back of my mind|Francis being good at baking|Mlikman x baker is such a cute trope idea lowkey|i should make longer writings
A/N:WOWOWO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST FRANCIS WRITING🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
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“Milk…butter…sugar..blah blah blah” Francis had muttered to himself as he went over the recipe list. He wanted to make cookies too take his mind off of things going on.
The both of you were like the baker and the milkman duo. People loved seeing you too together because of how cute you are. It was a fresh breathe of air to see a happy couple in these times. With dopplegangers roaming around the area.
You became familiar with the new door guard. They always greeted you with a smile as they went over your paperwork before allowing you in. " You know, It's something about you that just tells me it's the real you. " The doorman said before shrugging. You smiled at them before venturing up to your shared apartment with francis.
Today you didn't do much at the bakery. you only sold a couple of things you made earlier that week but it was a slow day. You pulled out your keys as just pushed them into the keyhole. pushing the door open and closing it after walking in, The smell of fresh baked cookies hit your nose. You smiled as you slipped off your shoes.
you poked your head into the kitchen to find francis looking over a baking tray with cookies spread out across them. He seemed to be whispering something to himself as he poked at one before hissing slightly.
" This is why we let things cool off before we touch them!" You said as you rushed over. Francis turned away slightly as you took his hand into yours before looking over it. "Well it seems nothing bad happened" You say while blowing on it and kissing his finger.
" I wanted to try and make something to take my mind off of things going on now." He said while looking at the tray. "Maybe you should leave that to me." You say while looking over the cookies before smiling and nodding. "But you did a good job! Did you buy the dough at the store or something?" You asked.
"Nope. Made them by scratch. I saw you had some recipes laying around so i followed them" He admitted. You smiled as you placed a small kiss on his cheek.
"Im proud of you! You did it the exact way i do" You say as you grab one. You take a bite before smiling some more. "Taste the same way." You say as you finish it off. Francis smiled as he felt proud from the praise.
"Thanks...But i think you always make them better" Francis said while leaning on the counter. "I think they taste the same. But you know...i thought you would bring some milk out that we can dunk the cookies in."You say as you open the fridge to a bottle of milk.
"I forget that milk and cookies go together"Francis muttered as he watched you pour two glasses of milk.You grabbed a plate and began to plate the cookies before placing them onto the kitchen counter.
"When you think about it, we go together like milk and cookies" You joked as you dip a cookie into your cup of milk. Francis rolled his eyes before chuckling at your joke. "Because of our jobs?" He asked as he picked up one of the cookies and took a small nibble out of it.
the rest of the afternoon was filled with the both of you finishing off the plate and having a milk drinking contest. Of course Francis won since he spent most of his days drinking cold bottles of milk.
But at the end of the day, The two of you went together like milk and cookies.
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elixrr · 1 year ago
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ᴄᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ! ☆ ʜᴏʏᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ ᴍᴇɴ¡
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ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ɪ ʙᴇʟɪᴇ��ᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.
ꜰᴛ: Xiao, Wriothesley, Lyney, Dan Heng, Argenti, Blade.
ꜱʏɴᴘᴏꜱɪꜱ: Headcanons about their cuddles with you!
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I considered adding Alhaitham into the mix, but I figured that I didn't know his character well enough for his part to be accurate and good. Apologies to all of the Alhaitham fans! Also, new format for my fanfiction posts, inspired by many creators! (Namely iheartganyu)
ᴘꜱ: pretty little spoiler warning if you haven't caught up with anything in either game 😭😭
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✰ xiao ✰
— An adeptus of Liyue, the Vigilant Yaksha. It's easy to guess that cuddles with him are rare. Mostly due to his job, but he's too... awkward. Xiao has been touch-starved for the great majority of his life, so it's easy to assume that he's inexperienced, much to his dismay.
Don't get me wrong. He'd love to cuddle more often, but— while inexperience is one part of it, Xiao is ultimately insecure. He strongly believes that he's tainted. He believes that he's a disgusting, vile creature that lives only to slaughter, but he thinks of you as an angel. Xiao thinks that too many cuddles would taint you, alongside the fact that he worries about his Karmic Debt situation.
Nevertheless, when you do convince him to cuddle with you, he'll be awkward at first; hesitant to put his arm here, overthinking how he put his hand there, etc., etc. He doesn't emit much body warmth, but he finds you to be really cozy and warm to the touch, thus finding comfort in the closeness once he moves past the insecurities and hesitation. By the way, unless you like to initiate and contribute to conversations, most of the cuddles will be in comfortable silence, excluding the occasional comment about the scenery or compliments about each other.
Xiao would cuddle on the condition that it's in a secluded area and nobody else is present except for you and him. He'd prefer to book a bedroom at Wangshu Inn, but if not, then he'd prefer to cuddle on the rooftop of the inn, late at night when the stars shine from the heaven-blessed galaxies, the subtle natural light kissing your features to give him a little bit of an extra view. He doesn't think too much about how he looks to you, but he could only hope that he's at least bearable to look at. (Which he very much is.)
☆ wriothesley ☆
— He's so touchy and extra cuddly that sometimes that extra cuddly can be too extra, resulting in a near impossible mission to get out of bed in time for you to even get ready. Wriothesley loves holding you close to him. You're his love, and so he wants to treat you like it, but sometimes cuddles can transform into something a little bit more than just a cozy night, wrapping one's arms around the other.
Speaking of, good luck to you if you prefer being the big spoon, because you can't be the big spoon anymore. Wriothesley will always be the one to hold you, always the one to just wrap his arms around you and cherish you like never before. As previously mentioned, you're his lover, and he wants to treat you like it! Wriothesley wants to make you feel special, like you're the most important person in his life, so he'll do his best to give you that.
Also, I feel as though he'd whisper to you a lot. Even if there's no need to be quiet, he finds it intimate to just lean in and whisper compliments in your ear while holding you close. It doesn't matter what situation you're in; it doesn't matter where you guys are, even if you're talking about your day or the constellations in the skies above, he'll interrupt you, lean in close and just say something about your eyes, maybe your clothes, but preferably your lips.
Wriothesley would also love kissing you at random whenever you cuddle. Not to say he doesn't already do that outside of cuddles, but it's just, to him, you look amazing. You look cute, and why wouldn't he kiss you when you're his gracious lover? He hopes that he doesn't go overboard and accidentally make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, he knows you enjoy it— that smile on your face every time he pecks a kiss on your nose or cheek tells him everything he needs to know.
Before I forget, he doesn't prefer cuddles during any time of the day, but given his job, it's mainly during his afternoon tea breaks, and 100% at night in bed with you. To be honest, if he could, he'd take a full day off just to hold you tight and spend the day with you, wrapped like burritos in a blanket and sipping the day away with refreshments and love.
Some day, he might as well do just that.
☆ lyney ☆
— If it weren't for his job as a magician and as part of the fatui, he wouldn't let go of you. When Lyney can, he clings to you like a lost child who had finally found their parent in a big city. He holds your waist with one hand and performs little magic tricks with the other to impress you. Lyney's a very clingy, touchy lover.
When cuddling, he loves getting super close to the point where there's almost no space between the two of you. But on the occasion, he'll snuggle so close that it's basically just a tight hug—the only difference is that you're both lying down. The only times he isn't super, mega close to you, is when he's making rainbow roses appear randomly around your body. Most of the time, it's all fun and innocent, but other times, Lyney enjoys the look on your face when he does something quite bold.
Also, Lyney's very talkative while cuddling. Even in moments of relaxation, he'll take the time to just stare at you, even if he can't get the full view because of the ungodly lack of space, Lyney will look at you and start complimenting you. He loves you so much, and that's another huge way to show it. He's a romantic kind of guy. If there's a way to show his affection, he will take and use that way to show his affection. He loves your smile; he loves it when you blush, and it slowly grows more evident by the second because he starts to blush, too. Also, Lyney would immediately just hold you more at the sight of your reaction.
Nevertheless, his need to be close can change. Whenever he's out on a mission given by Arlecchino— more specifically, an assassination mission— you won't see him for a good three days. Even when the mission's complete, he'd want to seek out your love, comfort, and affection, but he stops himself. Lyney believes that his hands are still painted with the blood of the murdered, no matter how many times he washes or scrubs them, he'll still see the visible darkening red blood stains. There's no way he's even going near you with those kinds of sins straight on his body. It's sad, and you might have to seek him out yourself if he doesn't show up for the next few days. When you do find him, the moment he sees you is when that wall of guilt shatters, and he nearly breaks down seeing you again. Seeing you every day made him used to you, and just a few days of deprivation made him feel miserable. The simple, mere sight of you had him almost sobbing, running back to you and holding you tight, finally reunited with the one he loves most.
Were he not guilty of association with the fatui, he wouldn't have ever needed or wanted to let go.
☆ dan heng☆
— Blushing little mess. He's never a fan of PDA, so even when he does want to hold you outside of his or your room, he doesn't. Hence why the moment you both enter the private space of a hotel room or a bedroom, Dan Heng takes your hand and leads you to the bed for cuddles. He loves them, really, but he's a flustered mess of a lover because of how embarrassed he felt about being so clingy.
He's a big spoon, too, so he holds you close to him while cuddling. He likes the closeness, but he hates how visibly red his face gets, so he buries his face into your shoulder to hide. Sometimes, he just lays there listening to you or simply calming down in silence, but he does like hearing your voice before bed. It helps him sleep, and it somehow prevents nightmares of Blade. Quick note, your comfort and warmth make him feel safe through the night, and you accompany him when he'd usually be alone, either on his phone or reading a book.
PS: Dan Heng prefers to sleep in your room and/or in a hotel room because your bed and the hotel's provided beds are much more comfortable than a sleeping bag. He loves wrapping a blanket around the two of you and holding you like that. He says it's so you both get an even amount of warmth, and neither of you takes more of the blanket than the other, but he really does it because he feels a bit closer to you.
In his Imbibitor Lunae form, sleeping with him gets a bit harder, simply because he finds it harder to control himself. But when he can control himself, he'll let you run your fingers through his long hair, maybe even letting you touch his horns. Still, he doesn't allow the latter too often for reasons left unsaid. Anyway, he dislikes using this form because of how it reminds him of his former's past. He feels as though he's trapped in the memories and sin that are not his own. Yet, you make him feel comfortable in his own skin. He feels free with you; he feels alive, and he loves you for your ability to make him feel that way. Dan Heng will do everything in his ability to make you feel the same way.
And he likely already has.
☆ argenti ☆
— The most proper and romantic. Compliments littered across your entire figure, his hand in yours kissing your knuckles constantly with the addition of the most rosey and romantic sweet nothings. Argenti is old-fashioned and the most romantic, as he believes that this is the only way to live for his adored Aeon. The most comment compliment you'd hear between kisses is, “you're the most exquisite person in my world,” and Argenti would always wink with his compliments. Sometimes, it's wonderful to be the subject of his rose-colored words, but other times, it gets old; you become slightly lovesick.
The solution to that is conversation while holding each other in bed, or perhaps it's simply ushering Argenti to cuddle with you beneath the stars at night. It's beautiful to see the galaxy in its brightest moments, hovering from the dark skies. Argenti would silently pray to his Aeon, thanking her profusely for letting him see this wonderful view in person.
Still. You are his lover, and sometimes the weight of fear and trauma gets to him. Argenti often looks to you to confide in, and usually, nights like these are rarely cuddle nights, but sometimes, when it gets bad, you'll hold him in the night while he talks about his past— the wars, the music, the old friends, the worries— and how terrifying it can be if he would succumb to the same fate as his once so honorable friend. In exchange for your comfort, he holds you close and vows to protect you in your dreams and from the moment you wake to the moment you sleep again.
Argenti prefers to cuddle in bed, during a picnic, or beneath the stars. He seldom makes exceptions for heavy PDA, but when it comes to cuddling in public, even if there are people around during the day or at night, if it's stargazing or a picnic, he doesn't care as much. He'll smile, his eyes set only on you, not the eyes that may linger on your cuddles.
He doesn't care enough to look at anyone else, not when the embodiment of beauty lays right by him.
☆ blade ☆
— He's cautious. Blade's name takes after his weapon, and though he himself is not a sword, he still worries that he'll hurt you through cuddles. Blade is marastruck, and if it starts to get to him, he's terrified that it'll strike you, too. He admires death and the concept of it, but for you to die and for him to live with that? Impossible.
Anyway, convincing him is still 100% doable. When you do cuddle with him, he holds you with hesitation and care. He doesn't show it, as he masks his emotions with lips pursed to a line, but he feels relief. He feels happy, even, but he can't really tell. The Mara has calmed, and he can catch a break from the trauma. Something worth noting: Blade's trauma might cause him to cling to you, holding you close for comfort and reassurance— but that's only when he finds himself to be desperate for your love and affection. It's the one thing that keeps him together; your smile alone can mend all of his wounds, physical or not.
That can happen at any time of the day, but he'll typically seek you out at night. Blade will— without a spoken word— hug you from behind with a sigh of relief, and he'll take you to the nearest spot with the most privacy, and he'll hold you tight once more without a sign of letting you go. He loves you, and without even saying that he does, you already have all the evidence you need to conclude that he does. Holding you feels like heaven, in Blade's eyes. Once he gets past his fears of hurting you, he'll wrap his arms around your waist, but if he cuddles with you from behind, he'll wrap his arms beneath your chest, all with a sigh of relief and the tiniest hint of a smile.
The two of you cuddling is cute, so cute that Silver Wolf just had to stream it and broadcast one of your cuddle sessions to all of the other Stellaron Hunters.
Of course, you and Blade will never cuddle near any of the Stellaron Hunters ever again after that.
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echoingspectrum · 7 months ago
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*The rest of the Astral Express went to the Dreamscape for personal reasons. Leaving you and Dan Heng in the express, in accompany of Pom-Pom.*
Name: You're not going with them to the dreamscape?
Dan Heng: I have no use to dream.
Name: And why is that? Too cool to dream? *teasing him*
Dan Heng: Because I only need you to make my dreams come true.
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str4wkinzi · 1 year ago
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Just Neuvillette :33
feral mating press w girl dinner/thigh biting + neck marking + hip scratching and overstim pretty pretty please (from comic :3)
NSFW CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!
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“Stop squirming.” He demands from between your legs. Leaving bite marks and hickeys along your inner thighs. He’s been teasing you all night. Your pathetic whines to try to convince him to stick his tongue in your cunt fall upon deaf ears.
“Youve got it all twisted, love” he says while kitten licking your clit. He grabs onto your thighs with his nails, digging them deep within your flesh. Your whines don’t affect him. Actually, it only makes him worse. When you whine like a little bitch he gets all hot and bothered. Makes him go feral.
Feral with lust, want, desire.. feral for you. Your body, your everything. He gets lost between your legs. Lost in thoughts about ravaging you to your core.
You wont be able to think correctly without his cock. You wont be able to function without his cock hitting your cervix over, and over, and over again. The thought of you being so dependent on his cock just to do the simplest of tasks really turns him on. Really turns him on.
He gets up, stoping his movements and edging you. He doesn’t give a fuck. He needs you now. He looks down upon your figure. Angrily whining and shaking because you were so close. He slaps your thigh harshly.
He spits at you to get on top of him.
“If you want to cum you earn it.” He spat, digging his nails into your hips, surely bruising them. You try to bounce on his cock, chasing after the release you’ve been deprived of all night. With his nails still digging into your hips you’re unable to go as fast as you both want.
“Too slow.” Is all he says before he starts pounding into you from below, dragging your hips to meet his thrusts.
You’re going crazy on his cock. Drooling with your eyes rolling to the back of your head make you look so beautiful. He starts to rub your clit, if you want to cum so bad, he’ll make you.
As your screams die down after endless abuse to your now overstimulated cunt you try to squirm away. Of course, he notices this and stops. He lays you down next to him. You think he’s finished, you’re wrong.
He swiftly pushes both your legs up, nearly to your ears, and pushes his cock into you for the umpteenth time tonight. He has you in a mating press. He isn’t done with you.
Thoughts of absolutely ruining you flood his mind once again. You going crazy on his cock fuels these delusions. He needs you to need his cock. Your whines of ‘too much!’ and ‘slow down!’ only make him go faster.
You’re crying on his cock, crying because it feels too good. He’s doing this to you. He needs you to know he’s the only man that can make you feel this good. He’ll etch it into your cunt if he has to. Make you’re sweet pussy only for him to use. To destroy.
He doesn’t cate if your cunt has to remember the shape of his cock. You’re his. Every part of you is his. You screaming underneath him is only a indication that you need him to make you feel the best. God, he loves you.
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STR4WZ STICKY NOTE < HI GUYZ :3 THANK U ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY MAMMON POST! This took alot longer thn expected but ive been busy! ANYWAYS THE LEVIATHAN POST WILL BE DUE NEXT AND I WILL GET TO MY MOOTS REQUEST SOON LOVE U ALL 3
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cupidkyu · 4 months ago
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thinking about men who look like they'd be a bottom in bed,who looks like they'd sub for their partner. but once you actually get intimate with him,he switches the position, pounding into you ruthlessly as you moan out his name. your eyes rolled back and tearing up from the pace he's going, begging for him to let you release as he just laughs at how pathetic and wrecked you look, grunting against your neck as his hands grips your waist. you spread your legs a little wider just so he can go deeper,your hair messy and youre on your nth orgasm,gosh he just wants to devour you whole. he'd probably make you ride him sometimes and would jerk his hips up so roughly that'll make you let out a sweet,gagged moans,his nails digging into your hips as you buck your hips up and down, your sweet spot is probably so bruised by now,but he didn't care,and neither did you.
kinich, heizou, wanderer, aether,choso, yinyue jun,luocha,jiaoqiu,your faves
requests open:)
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latanyalove · 7 months ago
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Portgas D Ace - How He Flirts
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Pairing: Ace x Y/N
Content: Jealousy, misunderstandings, light angst, hurt/comfort
A/n: I might have rushed this because I wanted this out before the year was over. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
- Portgas D. Ace is known for his charming and flirtatious nature.
- He has a way of making women feel desired and captivated.
- Ace's flirting style is unique, characterized by his confident and playful nature.
- He often uses eye contact to establish a strong connection with his targets.
- Ace is known for his witty banter and clever pick-up lines.
- He knows how to tease and make women laugh, creating an intimate atmosphere.
- Ace is skilled at reading body language and uses it to gauge a woman's interest.
- He often compliments women on their beauty, intelligence, or accomplishments.
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You were in the club with the rest of the Whitebeard Pirates, enjoying the music and dancing the night away. They were all in high spirits, celebrating their recent victories and looking forward to the future.
You had been sitting with Marco, sipping on your drinks, as you watched the Fireboy move from one group of ladies to the next with ease. His smooth talking and charm had the entire club captivated.
Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in your chest as you watched him. He had a way of making everyone feel special, but you wished he would have given you some of his attention instead.
You wanted to be the one he was talking to, the one he was giving his attention to.
"You know if you keep looking him like that, then he might actually notice,"
You jumped, looking over to where the voice came from to see Marco glancing at you with a mischievous smile on his face.
"What are you talking about?" you said, trying to hide the light blush that had started to spread across your cheeks.
Marco chuckled and took a sip from his drink. "You know what I'm talking about," he said. "Just don't be too obvious about it. If you play your cards right, he might take the hint."
"I'm not sure if I'm ready for that," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, I don't even know if he would be interested in me. I don't want to put myself out there and make a fool of myself."
Marco smiled and said, "You might be surprised. You never know until you try. And there's no harm in expressing your interest."
You nodded, glancing at Ace one more time before turning your gaze away, your heart fluttering nervously. You took a deep breath and made a silent wish that maybe, just maybe, he would notice you. . . .
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You were laughing and chatting with your new drinking buddies, enjoying the music and the atmosphere.
You felt free and at peace, and you couldn't help but smile as you watched everyone around you having the time of their lives.
You had forgotten all about Ace and were just living in the moment.
That was until you felt someone grab your hand.
"Excuse me, miss," the old man said with a lecherous grin. "You look like you could use some company. How about you and I have a little private dance?"
You quickly pulled your hand away, disgusted by his advances. "No thank you,"
"Why not?" He persisted.
"I have a boyfriend," you lied, hoping it would deter him.
But instead of backing off, the old man chuckled and replied, "Oh, is that so? Well, where is he then? I don't see him anywhere."
"I'm right here," he said, a voice filled with protectiveness. You turned around to see Ace standing there with a serious expression. The old man's grin faded as he realized he had crossed a line, and he quickly made his exit.
Ace, fully turned towards you, looked at you with concern and asked, "Are you okay?"
Ace's eyes softened as he gently touched the place where the man had grabbed you, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
Y/N, don't fall for him even more. He does this to every woman in need of saving.
You're not special.
Without saying a word, you ran away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. You sprinted through the crowded streets, desperate to put as much distance between you and Ace as possible.
It wasn't until you stopped to catch your breath that you realized you had no idea where you had ended up.
As you stood there, panting and disoriented, you felt the first droplets of rain hit your face. Within seconds, the light drizzle turned into a heavy downpour, soaking you to the bone.
The rain poured down on you, mixing with your tears, you couldn't help but let out a sob. The combination of the physical and emotional pain became too overwhelming to bear, and you found yourself breaking down in the middle of the unfamiliar street.
"Y/N! Y/N!"
You jumped at the voice of Ace, shocked at how he had followed you all the way.
Dreading the look on his face, you still turned around to see Ace standing there, rain-soaked and concerned. His eyes searched yours, filled with worry and regret.
"Y/N?" he said softer, his voice filled with genuine concern and regret.
"Why did you follow me all the way here?" You asked.
"I couldn't just let you run off like that," Ace replied, his voice laced with sincerity. "I care about you, Y/N. I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"Is that what you say to every woman in need?" You blurted out, your voice filled with anger and hurt.
Ace's shocked expression quickly turned into one of remorse as he realized the impact of his actions.
"No, Y/N," he said earnestly, his voice filled with regret.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment and betrayal, even though you two weren't even dating. The realization that Ace's protective nature might be more of a habit than a genuine emotion made you question the authenticity of his actions towards you.
You decided that since you weren't going to have a chance with him, you might as well tell him.
"Ace, I've liked you for a while and I know-" You started, your eyes fixated on the muddy floor.
You didn't hear his footsteps, but suddenly your face was raised up by Ace's gentle touch. His hand cupped your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes.
Your heart skipped a beat as you noticed the proximity between your faces, the warmth of his hand against your skin. Despite the closeness, there was still a hint of uncertainty lingering in the space between you, as if both of you were waiting for the other to make a move.
"Can I kiss you?"
You nodded, a mix of nervousness and anticipation flooding your senses. Without wasting any time, Ace closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours, the taste of rain and longing intertwining in the kiss.
It was a moment filled with both vulnerability and a glimmer of hope, as if the downpour had washed away the doubts and fears that had kept you apart for so long.
When the both of us broke away from each other, Ace started speaking.
"I like you too Y/N, I- I was just scared of how you would react if I confessed,"
"Scared?" You would never think the Fire Fist Ace was scared of anything.
"Yes, I mean who would Iike a monster like me in the first place?"
"Me," You interrupted, "I mean not the monster part because you're not a monster-"
A quick kiss shut you up immediately.
You started to pout, "You need to stop interrupting me when I'm talking,"
"But it's so nice to kiss you, I can't stop," He admitted shamelessly, his cheeks blushing immensely.
You laughed at his bad flirting skills.
"H- Hey! It's not funny!" He pouted.
At moment, you realised that you were special to him. He blushed when he flirted with you, he stuttered when he is with you and loves you more than those girls in the bar. . . .
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
"So you're telling me that you were jealous of the girls in the bar?" Ace teased you with his famous grin as he leaned against you.
"Well yeah," You mumbled, crossing your arms in embarrassment. Maybe you did slightly overreact.
Ace then hugged your side, winking. "I'm sorry for making you jealous, let me treat you tonight,"
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justgiulia · 29 days ago
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Divine obsession.
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Obsessed!Sunday x gn!reader
content warning: obsession, religious themes, sexual fantasies implied, self-punishment.
author's note: Please go easy on me, this is my first time writing a fanficition. I've only written headcanons until now :( also English is not my first language.
With that being said, enjoy this!
The sound of soft humming filled the dimly lit room. A dozen candles were positioned on what seemed to be an altar and, approaching them with light and cautious movements, the man with the halo began to light them one by one as per his daily routine.
Sunday, takes a box of matches from his pocket. The box is small, rectangular, with the edges worn from countless uses, evidence of matches lit in the past. With a fluid gesture, the thumb pushes the internal drawer, making it slowly slide out. Fingers grasp a match carefully and with a firm but controlled movement, the match is brought to the side strip. Then, with a sharp snap, the wrist moves: the match is dragged along the rough surface. The head catches fire in an instant, releasing a small flame.
One...
The number One is the divine principle. The One is the all, the Eternal Infinite Being, which has no form and possesses all forms…
For the first meeting and the first time the light shone on him. The first tim e Sunday was truly intrigued by someone. From the way they acted to the way they looked like, to the way everyone looked at them.
"My liege appears so noble and honest, when they greet people, so much so that everyone is silent and the eyes do not dare to look at them".
Two...
Two derives from the division of unity and is the symbol of separation, because from a sacred point of view, unity is essentially one and unique...
He remembers the pain of separation, a powerful pang in his chest when he had to stop looking at you, dragged by his sister to fulfill his duties as part of one of the most renowned families. Oh, How he wished he could continue listening to the conversation you were immersed in with your friends. Your laugh and your look, your modest manner in response to the praise of your traveling companions
"They proceed, hearing praises, with the outward appearance of courteous benevolence and they seem to be a descended creature from heaven to earth to show divine power".
Three...
The combination of three perfect elements: wisdom, intelligence and love. You represented all of them.
"They appear so beautiful to those who look at them, which through the eyes transmits a sweetness to the heart that those who don't experience it can't understand...".
Four...
The perfect number.
Watching you from afar, Sunday had come to the conclusion that you represented everything perfect in this world.
"...and it seems to come from their face a sweet spirit of love which says to the soul: breathe".
Five...
The number Five symbolizes universal life, human individuality, will, intelligence, inspiration and genius…
The first time you spoke to him he felt that his life in the universe had a specific purpose, to be at your side. Not to mention the fact that you got along extremely well with his sister...Your happy smiles as you spent time together...Your involuntary and affectionate touches. They made him think, perhaps your fulfillment in earthly life was to be part of his family... and perhaps this had been written in the stars years, centuries, millennia before your births. It was fate.
"I saw the bright morning star that appears before the day dawns, and who took human form ; more than any other it seems to me to give splendor"
Six...
Six is ​​a mystical and ambivalent number in its meaning, as it is the number of balance and perfect order...
But perhaps the fulfillment of your life was not on earth, he thought, such a perfect being, endowed with such a pure soul. Sunday knew that to limit your existence and confine it, to simply associate it with a body as an object was considered heresy to him. No...your fulfillment went far beyond worldly life, you were destined for what was defined as metaphysical that the mind cannot understand, but for the gaps that reason cannot fill; the heart and faith take its place.
And Sunday believed.
He had faith.
"Their face, eyes bright, cheerful and full of love ; I don't think there's someone in the world so full of beauty and value."
Seven...
Seven expresses globality, universality, perfect balance and represents a complete and dynamic cycle...
And then his cycle of worship began. Poems, sonnets, prayers, texts proclaimed sacred by Sunday himself... The mind has no limit to creativity when a merciful and grace-filled being is at its guide.
"And I am assailed by their value with such a cruel battle of sighs...".
Eight...
The Eight is the symbol of infinity, the reflection of the spirit in the created world, of the immeasurable and the indefinable...
Sunday punished himself, he had to.
He had sinned.
A lash on his back accompanied by a "Shame" from his lips for every vile and vulgar thought he had.
He began to imagine a more intense bond.
The sound of a whip.
"Shame".
Your body on his.
Another firm sound.
"Shame".
He imagined what the eyes could not see.
He felt his skin burning for his sins, for you.
He could start to feel blood gushing from his wounds.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
One drop of blood after another, One sin after another.
"Shame".
Sinning had never felt so sweet.
"...that I wouldn't have the courage to speak in front of them".
Nine...
The number Nine is the overcoming of creation and infinity, represented by eight.
Because if the divine possesses all the positive qualities of this world and beyond it, then they must necessarily also possess that of existence and infinity. This is the explanation of their divinity.
"Oh, if only they knew of my desires!"
Ten...
Symbolizes perfection, as well as the annulment of all things. 10 = 1+0 = 1 illustrates the eternal starting over…
Everyone called him crazy but limited and closed minds like those couldn't understand. They had not been illuminated by the light. Once you are exposed to light you can't go back, you don't want to go back. In order not to be contaminated by the foolishness of other human minds, he therefore took refuge in his safe place.
Nothing can make him go astray from the right path.
"Because, without saying, I would be rewarded by them for the pity they would have for my sufferings".
The candles cast flickering light upon an altar meticulously arranged with objects they had unknowingly blessed with their touch and that were carefully arranged by Sunday's trembling hands.
He knelt before the altar, his gaze never leaving the central object—a photograph of the reader. Their smile radiated warmth, like sunlight piercing through clouds, and He could almost feel their presence enveloping him.
Sunday clasped his hands tightly.
“Oh, divine one, guide me”.
He whispered, his voice shaking.
“Your light blesses this wretched world. Let me be worthy to serve you”.
The faint sound of a knock startled him. Sunday scrambled to extinguish the candles, his movements frantic yet deliberate. He couldn't let the sanctity of his ritual be disturbed by prying eyes.
“Sunday? Are you there?”
It was them.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest. For a moment, he stood frozen, his mind racing. What had he done to deserve their presence? Were they here to deliver a message? Or a command?
“I—just a moment!” He called, hastily adjusting his hair before opening the door.
They stood there, their usual serene demeanor making his knees weak. Their presence suddenly illuminated the sacred room.
“Hey... I wanted to check in on you. You've been keeping to yourself a lot lately,” they said with a gentle smile while entering the room, noticing the lack of light of the place.
Sunday's breath caught. Every word they spoke was divine scripture in her ears. He bowed his head slightly, his voice reverent, shaking and not daring to look in their eyes. “I… I am unworthy of your concern. But thank you, truly, for blessing me with your attention.”
They blinked, a bit taken back. “Uh, you don't have to talk like that, Sunday. We're friends, remember?”
His body went stiff and his eyes widened. “Friends?” The word echoed in his mind like a sacred hymn, over and over. “You honor me beyond what I could ever deserve. To be your friend… it is a privilege I could never repay.”
They huckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of their neck and Sunday could not comprehend how a simple gesture could hit him so deep, but then, again, it's you. No being could ever make him feel these sensations, the feeling of salvation. “You don't owe me anything, you know. Just… make sure you're taking care of yourself, okay?”
“I will, as you command,” Sunday said fervently, clasping his hands together.
“Command? Sunday, I'm not—”
“Every word you speak is a gift,” He interrupted, his voice trembling with emotion. “A light in the darkness of this world. You are the reason I rise each day, the reason I strive to better myself. I live to follow your will.”
“Sunday…”
His gaze locked onto theirs, his eyes filled with an almost unsettling intensity. “Please, if I have done anything to displease you, tell me. I will repent. I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.”
They sighed, their expression softening. “You haven't done anything wrong, just...You don't need to treat me like I'm... special.”
“But you are special,” Sunday whispered, emphasizing every word, his voice barely audible. “You are a god among mortals. Your kindness, your wisdom, your very presence—everything about you is divine. How could I see you as anything less?”
They frowned.
Why are they frowning?
“Sunday, I'm just me. I don't know where you're getting this idea, but—”
“I see it,” He insisted, stepping closer, eyes wide, hands grasping the air in front of him but never daring to reach for them. “In every word you speak, every action you take. You carry a light that others can't. I only wish more people could see it, but perhaps… perhaps they are unworthy.”
They took a step back, clearly uncomfortable. “Okay, this is getting a little intense. Maybe we should talk about this later.”
“Please don't go!” Sunday reached out, stopping himself just before touching them. “I—I apologize if I've overstepped. I only want to serve you, to be useful to you.” His voice cracked with desperation and glossy eyes. “Please, tell me how I can prove my devotion. I will do anything.”
They hesitated, their concern evident. “Sunday, I think you need to take a step back and talk to someone about this. I care about you, but this… this isn't healthy.”
His heart shattered at their words, but he forced a smile. “O-of course. If that is your wish, I will obey.”
They smiled at him before turning their back to walk towards the door and open it.
"I hope you find the light of reason again"
And a second later, silence.
As they left, Sunday sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “They test me,” he murmured to himself. “They want to see if my faith is strong enough. I won't falter. I will try it myself. No matter what it takes, I will become worthy.”
His resolve hardened. The candles flickered back to life as he resumed his prayers, his whispered vows filling the room.
“Your light guides me, and I shall follow, no matter where it leads. Even if it destroys me.”
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seetangus · 11 months ago
Note
Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…
idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!
Healing - Azula x reader
[Masterlist]
Azula x gn reader, no warnings
1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)
The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.
Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.
“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.
You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.
“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”
A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.
While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.
Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.
< • ◇ • >
A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.
This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:
“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”
Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”
That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.
But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.
Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.
Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.
Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.
After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.
< • ◇ • >
You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.
Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.
“How do you feel, Azula?”
“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”
Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.
She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.
“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.
You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.
“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.
Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”
You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”
Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.
“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”
Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”
“Yes Azula, I do.”
You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.
Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.
“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.
“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.
“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”
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