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milksnake-tea · 5 months ago

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✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Firefly and Silver Wolf return from Penacony, bringing souvenirs of all kinds alongside them.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 6.3k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy, @https-mika, @greyrain23, @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi , @louchive , @mave-in , @mutiachan , @meerpea , @tetrxctys , @emiken-070907 ( send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! remember to specify that it is for this series )

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : mentions of alcoholism in this chapter !! also check out the tags, i've added something that needs to be looked at but tldr the reader will be dealing with themes of alcoholism, addiction, escapism, and survivor's guilt. it'll be tackled in later chapters, but just putting that as a warning now! sunday's pfp art is by @/thotep

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Weeks have passed since Sunday had first arrived at the Delphi.

With Silver Wolf and Firefly busy with their mission on Penacony, life is relatively mundane. If you don’t have a script to fulfill, then Elio lets you run free to do whatever your heart desires - ironic, considering the nature of your work.

Every Hunter has their own way of passing the time between scripts. Kafka often goes shopping for fancy dresses or yet another velvet coat to add to her increasing collection of them. Silver Wolf, on the other hand, shrinks away from the real world and into the comfort of her room to game - you know this because her room’s right next to yours, so you can hear whether or not she wins or loses.

Firefly never spends too long on the Delphi; rather, she takes up her suit and flies off to visit nearby planets, eager to experience their wonders as any normal tourist would. As for Blade, he sulks off into the training rooms, either sharpening his sword or perfecting his technique.

But what about you? What do you do in these torturously boring times? What is your way of keeping yourself entertained?

Drinking. It’s drinking.

Because apparently making candy-flavored drugs isn’t bad enough.

Simple piano played in the background of the Delphi’s bar, where it came from you’ve long given up on trying to figure out. Golden lights hanging from the ceiling clash against chestnut wood, filling the bar with a hazy, warm color.

You’re alone in the bar, sitting laxly in one of the many stools that line the countertop. Lazily, you spin a jigger in your hands, absentmindedly adding and shaking and tossing until you’re left with a clear, peach-tinted cocktail topped with creamy white foam and mint leaves.

The drink is known as a White Sand, a cocktail you discovered when visiting a tropical planet known for its tourism. You’re still new to mixology, preferring to just drink wine straight from the bottle, but you can’t deny that trying out different combinations of recipes, some delicious and others diabolical, is a surprisingly great way of passing the time.

Just as you’re about to take a sip of your drink, your phone dings. You’re tempted to ignore it, but after the second, third, and consequential pings, you begrudgingly take it out with a sigh.

You roll your eyes a bit despite the smile on your face. Drinking your cocktail with a little more spite this time, you type out a response.

Spinning around on the stool, you uncross your legs and, taking your drink with you, make your way to the training room. Thankfully, the walk isn’t too long - just an elevator ride down and after a few minutes of walking through the facilities, you’ve arrived.

You take a deep breath as you come to the doors of the training rooms, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Just to be safe, you summon your sword in your dominant hand and hold your cocktail in the other.

Your sword isn’t anything impressive when compared to the others’ - it isn’t as flashy as Silver Wolf’s or Firefly’s, nor is it as intimidating as Blade’s. It supports a simple yet elegant design, and it’s thin, tapering to a sharp point.

But what makes it unique are the bright veins that run through it, filled with a deadly poison that you’ve personally curated through testing and researching natural poisons found across the stellar seas. Just one graze or prick of your blade, and your victim becomes paralyzed within seconds, dead with a few more.

Normally, you wouldn’t bring it out - you prefer your rifle and bayonet over your sword - but what lay behind these doors required a little more agility than what could be accomplished with one hand and a rifle.

With a sigh, you step through the doors and brace for impact.

“[Name]-?” Sunday looks behind him as you enter, only to curse and bring up his rapier as Blade lunges at him once more. It’s a fatal mistake, being distracted in the middle of a fight, and Sunday learns this the hard way when he’s caught off balance (rapiers are NOT good at blocking, especially if you’re a beginner) and Blade mercilessly drives a kick into his stomach.

You narrowly jump out of the way as Sunday flies past you and into the wall with a crash.

“Don’t let your focus wander.” Blade barely finishes speaking before he lunges at Sunday again with a swing of his broken blade.

See, you’re technically supposed to break up the fight and tell them of Firefly’s message. Technically.

But you kind of want to see where this goes.

And so you lean back against the wall, swirling your drink idly and watch the show without lifting a finger to help Sunday.

Sunday manages to dodge Blade’s attack, which is better than when you saw him a few weeks ago. Last you saw him, he was getting beat left and right both physically and mentally (Blade does not know what sugarcoating is).

See, as of late, Blade’s taken up a new hobby to entertain himself - that being training the newbie in the ways of combat. While it’s arguably true that Blade is the best suited for this (Kafka is Kafka, Silver Wolf can’t be bothered, Firefly doesn’t know what’s within a normal person’s capabilities, and you would treat it like a chore), his methods are… less than ideal.

Basically, he teaches you the basics for the first two weeks, and then makes you fight to the death against him until you get better not because you want to, but because you have to if you want to live.

You know this, because you went through this too. So did Silver Wolf. Firefly didn’t have to because one, she was already a capable warrior and two, she’s Blade’s senior, as weird as it sounds.

For the most part, Sunday seems to be doing relatively well, being able to parry, dodge, and attack the best he can. Obviously, he’s unable to land a hit on Blade (it would be impressive if he did), but being able to hold his own is more than enough.

The rapier he wields is a gift from his master. Although Blade can no longer craft weapons as he used to, his eye is still as sharp as ever. The rapier itself is an elegant thing, sporting a silver handle with a sapphire embedded near the handguard. It still holds considerable weight, but is light enough so that Sunday can wield it despite not having any prior training.

Every so often, the Halovian’s halo glows, indicating a mental attack of some kind. But the glow is faint, meaning that it isn’t anything that could seriously debilitate Blade, who is especially sensitive to attacks regarding the mind.

You smile to yourself. Always thinking of others, wasn’t he?

The mental attack creates only a momentary stagger in Blade’s movements, a brief falter, but Sunday seizes the chance. His wings, which have gotten stronger with every visit to your office, flare out in a cape of night. He still can’t fly, but they’re strong enough to propel him out of Blade’s range.

His wings tuck, and he strikes his rapier again, but this time it isn’t with the intent of piercing Blade with his sword. Instead, his halo glows stronger, and small staffs of music shoot like miniature missiles at Blade.

Of course, Blade slashes through each music note easily. Even as Sunday conducts his personal choir with his rapier as his baton, there’s still a slight tremble in his hand, still not fully used to the weight of the rapier.

Not only that, you notice, the staffs aren’t exactly strong either. They waver, and they’re thin, as if one pull of your finger could break them into ribbons.

Your phone dings again, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

Right. You’re supposed to stop them. How many minutes has it been? At least two.

You gulp down the rest of your cocktail (there wasn’t much left), relishing the taste for just a moment before you lunge and intercept Blade’s attack. Your sword meets Blade’s in a flurry of sparks. You grunt, planting your feet on the ground and push off, throwing Blade off of you and forcing him to skid back.

Blade is less than pleased by your interruption despite expecting it. You can see that he’s half a mind to turn the training onto you. Before he can try anything, you point your sword at him, stopping him with a warning look.

“Sorry, but class is going to have to end early today.” You twirl your sword mindlessly in your hand before summoning it back into your inventory. “The girls are coming back from Penacony, and Firefly wants us in the living room in ten. And before you ask, if I have to go, so do you.”

The last part is directed at Blade, who grumbles in response.

“Fine.”

His sword disappears from his hands as he straightens. You almost don’t catch Sunday sighing in relief behind you. A laugh bubbles in your chest as you turn to him, crossing your arms.

“Old man’s been hard on you, hasn’t he?”

Sunday sighs, rolling back his shoulders as his rapier dissolves into nothing.

“I should be used to it by now,” he admits, “but Blade’s teaching style is more erratic than what I’m used to.”

“You’re getting better, though. At least you can actually hold the rapier now.”

Sunday chuckles. “That’s true. It doesn’t feel as heavy anymore; I suppose I’ve gotten stronger.”

“You sure have.” You look him up and down.

He’s wearing a long-sleeve compression shirt and simple joggers so as not to ruin his other clothes with the sweat and tear that comes with Blade’s training sessions. His body is still relatively slender like it was when he first came to the base, but you can see hints of his labor beginning to bear its fruits. His arms are definitely more toned, and while he still predominantly wears gloves, you spy a callus on one of his right hand’s forefingers.

Ever since he’d first stretched his wings, it was as if a light had returned to his eyes. He is still reserved, still quiet to a degree, but his presence has become brighter, in a sense. You see it in the tiniest changes - the lift of his eyes, the genuine crinkle in his smile, the gradual relaxation of his shoulders.

In your opinion, he’s never looked better.

Then again, your only visuals of him prior to now were when he was at his lowest, so maybe it wasn’t a good comparison.

You realize you’ve been staring for longer than what’s socially acceptable. Meeting Sunday’s confused smile, you playfully stick your tongue out before waving him off.

“Don’t just stand there. Go wash up and change, you smell.”

Sunday blinks. “I do?”

The genuine worry in his voice almost makes you feel bad. In an effort to make him feel better, you pat his head in two heavy movements, earning a high-pitched squeak with each pat.

“I’m just messing with you,” you tease, ruffling his feather-like hair before finally releasing him. Sunday huffs, slightly puffing out his cheeks as he immediately starts fixing his hair. He reminds you of a baby bird.

Resummoning your wine glass, which you had put away before intervening in the spar, you pull out a vintage wine bottle from nowhere and pour out some red wine. Sunday wrinkles his nose.

“Drinking again, I see,” he sighs. “Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

“For you, it is,” you say, throwing the wine bottle back into your inventory. “I, however, am not like you.”

“You’re destroying your liver.”

“My liver can handle it. Ask Blade, he knows. Isn’t that right, Blade?”

“Don’t bring me into this,” mutters Blade, in the middle of changing back into his normal clothes. You shrug.

“See? He didn’t deny it.”

Sunday crosses his arms. “He didn’t confirm it either. [Name], I cannot in good faith let you go on about this self-destructive path-”

“And on that note, I should get going,” you cut him off, pointedly ignoring the look he gives you. But before Sunday can start up his thirty-minute lecture, you’re already turning your heel and walking off with a cheeky wave. “See you up top!”

“Hey-!” Sunday shakes his head as you saunter out the doors, pressing a hand to his forehead. He already feels a migraine forming. “What am I going to do with them…”

Blade hums sympathetically, wordlessly offering Sunday a bottle of water and a towel, which he accepts gratefully.

“Don’t bother,” says Blade, looking at the doors where you’ve just left through. “They’ve always been like that. Trying to reason with them is fruitless.”

Sunday turns his head slightly to glance at Blade, his brow creased with worry.

“Still, this habit of theirs…”

Blade sighs. “It may look bad to you, but trust me. This is better than what they were doing before. At least with alcohol, their body can recover quickly.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sunday turns fully to face the other Hunter. “Surely, alcoholism can’t be a better alternative.”

For a long, heavy moment, Blade merely stares at him silently, waiting for him to come to his own conclusion. The air turns suffocating the longer the silence drags on, but Sunday endures. He meets Blade’s gaze calmly, and waits.

It isn’t too long before Blade relents. Maybe it’s because they have an appointment soon, or maybe he doesn’t feel like playing mind games with Sunday - or both.

“Have you ever seen them get alcohol poisoning?” he finally says, a little breath to his voice like a sigh.

Sunday blinks, caught off guard by the question. “No, but-”

“There’s your answer.” Blade begins to walk off. Before he disappears, he glances back. “Save your concern. Don’t pry where you aren’t welcome.”

The doors slide shut, leaving Sunday alone with the echo of the Hunter’s words. He squeezes the bottle tightly.

Don’t concern yourself, huh?

How could he not? In Penacony, his ears were meant for hearing the woes of his kin, and his heart forever cut to bleed for them. Sympathy is carved into his skin; it was second nature to him already.

But he remembers that moment in your office, the sudden coldness that came with an attempt of sympathy. And he remembers that he isn’t on Penacony anymore.

His eyes shut, a sigh escaping him. His wings tremble restlessly, referencing his thoughts.

Sunday opens one dark wing, and flaps it.

It’s frustrating, constantly being told to sit still and mind his own business. You’ve already helped him so much, but whenever he tries to do something for you, whether it be small, such as helping out with a chore or something more serious like this, he’s always shut down.

He feels useless, like a leech or a freeloader. All he’s done is take and take and take, unable to give.

He buries his face in the towel Blade gave him with a groan.

He hates it.

He should be doing more - he should be more.

“Still here, I see.”

Sunday flinches. He looks around wildly for the source of the voice, but he sees no one. Was he already beginning to hallucinate? He shouldn’t be, he was sleeping enough thanks to your medicine, but maybe four hours a night still wasn’t enough-

“No need to panic. I’m down here.”

Sitting at the foot of the doors is a familiar black cat with familiarly unnatural blue eyes.

Sunday relaxes. “Ah, Elio.”

Out of respect, he bows to his leader. The Destiny of Slave tilts his head, soundlessly leaping onto a nearby bench.

Sunday tries his best not to be unnerved by his gaze, but he can’t help it. Despite being on the Delphi for a little more than a month now, he’s rarely seen Elio, and as such hasn’t gotten used to his piercing eyes.

A small surprised sound leaves him as Elio jumps onto his shoulder, perching himself on him snugly. The seer’s back brushes against his wings as he readjusts himself.

“What addles your mind?” Elio asks. Sunday wants to lean away from him, but it’s impossible with the seer on his shoulder. “Firefly will be arriving in two system minutes. You will be late.”

Right, the meeting- meeting.

Sunday’s mind jumps at the word, dragged back into its own habits. Late, late- he can’t be late, that is unbecoming of someone like him, shouldn’t he know better? Instead he wasted time by asking useless questions- Stop thinking, stop thinking, you’re taking up valuable minutes- Get a move on, move, or they’ll hate you, they’ll take it as a disrespect, they’ll never accept you as their own-

“That’s enough.”

A paw baps the side of his head gently, snapping Sunday out of his thoughts.

Dull pain pricks at his palms. With a start, he realizes that his nails are digging into them, as they always do whenever his mind starts racing. He quickly relaxes his hands with a sigh.

Elio hums knowingly.

“You think too much,” says the seer. He stretches on Sunday’s shoulder, letting out a small meow as he does. He looks and acts so much like a real cat, Sunday has to remind himself not to pet him.

“I apologize,” is Sunday’s automatic response. Internally, he winces. You’d scold him if you heard him.

Elio shakes his head.

“The others won’t ostracize you,” he says matter-of-factly, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Is that a part of your prophecy?” Sunday asks, eyes glittering with dull mirth.

“Perhaps. It is also their nature. One doesn’t need to be a seer to know that.”

The seer lashes his tail. Sunday doesn’t know how to feel about being comforted by a cat, but knowing who Elio is, and the absolute certainty behind his words manages to quiet the noise in his mind enough to let him think clearly.

“I… I see. Thank you,” he says sheepishly. Elio shrugs.

“It’s nothing,” he assures. “If you need further consolation, you can pet me.”

Somewhere a record screeches to a halt. Sunday stares blankly at Elio, who stares back innocently as if he hasn’t said anything wrong.

“Absolutely not,” Sunday says flatly, with half a mind to shove the seer off just to see what would happen. “You’re a grown man.”

Elio’s eyes gleam. “Am I? Or am I a cat who has learned to disguise as human?”

Sunday doesn’t bother entertaining him. Rolling his eyes with an amused sigh, he begrudgingly gives Elio a small scratch on the chin.

“Happy now?”

Elio closes his eyes, the beginnings of a purr rumbling in his chest. The vibrations are soothing against Sunday’s skin, like how white noise aids one in sleeping. One of Elio's ears flicks, and Sunday has to bite down a smile.

“This isn’t for my happiness,” Elio says despite clearly enjoying the scratch. He blinks his eyes open, forcing Sunday to look into the sky. “You are feeling better.”

The seer tilts his head, looking past Sunday in amusement. Before Sunday asks what exactly it is he’s looking at, he hears a distant flutter, and his wings brush against fur. His face flushes.

Elio chuckles, his tail flicking back and forth. “Come on now, the others are waiting.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, ears burning, Sunday nods.

He really needed to fix this wing problem of his.

—

Three floors up, you wait with Kafka in the main living room.

The Spirit Whisper user has only arrived recently, having sped back to the Delphi from whatever corner of the universe she was shopping at. Her recent escapade shows on her outfit, a brand new velvet coat (this one a dark red) draped over her shoulders.

Her gloved fingers fly expertly across the neck of a violin, a mahogany bow in her other hand as she maneuvers the violin into an eerie melody. Her shoulders sway as she does, her pupiless eyes fluttering closed every so often with the music.

“They’re here,” you announce, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the plush sofa chair in which you sit. Your eyes are focused on your phone, which tracks Firefly’s and Silver Wolf’s location on an app the latter had designed herself.

Kafka hums, her deft hands never stilling. “Is that right?”

There’s a creak as the door opens behind and Blade walks in. With a simple nod to both you and Kafka, he slinks off to his corner of the room and summons his sword to hug against his chest. Kafka smiles demurely.

“Say,” she says, finally setting down the violin, “Bladie, how’s Birdie’s training going?”

Blade shifts the sword, looking up. “He needs to work on his footwork.”

Kafka hums. “Do you think he’s ready for a mission?”

“He can hold his own,” Blade admits, “but I wonder if he has the heart to kill. He could easily incapacitate me with his attacks on the mind, and yet he chooses not to.”

“It’s because he cares,” you jump into the conversation, setting your phone aside. “He may not act like it, but he’s rather soft-hearted. He probably doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Blade scoffs. “That kind of foolish sympathy will only debilitate him on the battlefield.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” says Kafka. “Who knows? Maybe Birdie will surprise us. One doesn’t nearly become an Aeon without some kind of moral ambiguity.”

Blade doesn’t look convinced, but he was never one to argue. He merely shrugs with a grunt, accepting whatever Kafka decides is the truth.

It isn’t like the conversation is set to continue either, as soon a portal made up of multicolored pixels spawns in the middle of the living room, and out walks Firefly, shopping bags hanging from all over her arms. Silver Wolf follows soon after, closing the portal behind her with a pop of her bubblegum.

“Welcome back,” Kafka greets, leaning on top of the backrest of your sofa chair. “Had fun at Penacony?”

“Fun is… one way of putting it,” Firefly chuckles bashfully. “It was definitely eventful. Speaking of which,”

She looks around the room for a certain someone.

“Where’s Sunday?”

“Probably changing,” you say, standing up from your chair. “He was in the middle of getting beat by Blade when I told him.”

“Ah, I see…” A small, nervous laugh leaves her. She quickly brightens, however, once you go in for a one-armed hug, the other hand still holding your wine glass. “That’s okay. His gift can wait. Here, let me give your guys’s.”

She rummages around in her shopping bag before pulling out what looks to be a large bubble, purples and blues glistening on its surface with the occasional person or place flashing.

“Here’s yours, [Name].”

You stare at it, dumbfounded. “A bubble?”

“It’s a dream bubble,” Firefly clarifies, gently placing it above your open palm. “Basically, they’re little memories or stories stored in a bubble - like a movie! There was this one vendor in Oti Mall who sold them, and, well… When I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.”

Her shoulders jump, as if remembering something.

“Oh, and… Maybe it’s best if you don’t open it here.”

Raising a brow, you tear your eyes away from the strange bubble. “Why is that?”

Firefly shifts. “Well… you’ll know.”

That doesn’t sound reassuring. “Now I’m getting worried. Is there a trigger warning, or..?”

Firefly waves her hands hastily. “No, no, nothing like that! It’s just that, well… dream bubbles leave you unconscious, so…”

“Ah.” You blink. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“That wasn’t all I got you, though,” Firefly adds. She takes the shopping bag that she’d pulled the dream bubble from and hands it to you. “I know you like collecting drinks, so…”

At her words, you immediately forget about the dream bubble. Throwing it away somewhere, you eagerly reach into the bag and feel the familiar touch of cold glass. Your eyes gleam with excitement.

The bottle you pull out is tall and fat towards the bottom, the glass tinted a dark caramel while what seems to be liquid amber sloshes inside. Stamped on the front of the hefty bottle is a green and orange logo that tells you just exactly what this beverage was.

“SoulGlad, is it?” you read aloud, holding the bottle up to the light. “So this is the famous ‘beverage of dreams’.”

“I know you prefer wine,” says Firefly, rubbing the back of her neck, “but Siobhan recommended this - also it’s a staple of Penacony, so I figured, why not try that wasn’t alcohol for once?”

You pointedly ignore that last part. “Siobhan?”

“She’s a bartender I met on Penacony! Speaking of which, Blade,”-Firefly fishes out another shopping bag, this one smaller and darker in color- “Siobhan said that this drink is good for people like you. It’ll make you feel a little better.”

Blade raises a brow. He unhands his sword only for a moment to accept the bag. Briefly peeking at whatever’s inside, he raises a brow and closes the bag, nodding his thanks to Firefly.

The biggest bag turns out to be Kafka’s, as Silver Wolf had already received her souvenir prior to arriving on the Delphi.

The hacker’s gift currently sits on her head as she plays yet another game in the chair that used to be your. The holographic Origami Bird bears a striking resemblance to her, occasionally cocking its head and chirping every so often, the three large feathers on its head swaying with each movement.

“Wow~” Despite having just gotten a new coat, Kafka’s perfectly painted lips curve into a delighted smile at the sight of black and magenta velvet and bronze buttons. “Did you get this specially tailored?”

Firefly tucks a white hair behind her head, her cheeks flushed with joy. “Yes, I did. It was only a small extra fee, so I didn’t mind.”

“How thoughtful.” Kafka swiftly abandons her current coat and slips on the new one. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to use it often.”

Kafka pats Firefly’s head gently, smiling down at her like a mother would her daughter.

“Congrats on your mission, by the way,” she says. “Quite the stir this time, I wish I was there to have seen it all.”

Firefly chuckles nervously. “Yeah, Penacony was definitely… interesting.”

And then, as if summoned by his homeland, two doors slide open and Sunday enters with Elio nestled snugly in his arms.

“I apologize for being late,” says the Halovian, bowing slightly. Kafka laughs.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assures, waving a hand carelessly. “What matters is that you’re here, Birdie.”

Fuchsia eyes narrow amusedly at the seer comfortably cradled against Sunday’s chest.

“Having fun there, Elio?” Kafka teases. Elio squints at the woman for a second before letting out a disturbingly cat-like meow and nuzzling back into the warm wool of Sunday’s turtleneck.

As much as you want to laugh at the seer, your eyes are somewhere else. Besides you, Firefly has seized up, her posture stiff and awkward at the sight of the former Oak Head. Figures, she probably had… a lot of conflicts, to put it lightly, with Sunday, and seeing him so soon - not to mention with her boss - must be jarring.

You decide to give her a bit of comfort. Nudging her lightly, you offer her an encouraging smile. She returns it gratefully, before taking a deep breath and greeting her now-junior.

“Hi, Sunday,” she says tentatively with a shy smile. Sunday’s eyes soften.

“Ah, Miss Firefly.” He nods politely. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes.” Firefly shifts her feet. “How have you been?”

“Better. You Hunters have been far more accommodating than I had ever anticipated, although rather eccentric.”

“That’s good,” Firefly chuckles. She pulls out a light-blue gift bag, and, walking up to Sunday, extends it to him. “This is your initiation gift. I really hope you like it.”

“Ah, thank you.”

Elio jumps off Sunday so that he can accept the gift, and opts to climb Kafka instead. In the meantime, Sunday handles Firefly’s gift as one might handle a baby. Once he opens it, however, his eyes widen in shock and his breath hitches.

“This is…”

Firefly smiles softly. “I asked your sister personally.”

Grasped in Sunday’s shaking hands is a gleaming album of red and purple. His sister’s face smiles up at him from the recording booth as she sings to the hearts of millions across the universe. Signed in the corner in a pastel pink pen is her signature.

“I…” Sunday’s voice is choked in his throat. He sounds like he’s about to cry. A part of you wants to reach out and give him a hug, but you don’t think that’s the right course of action right now.

“There’s a note inside,” Firefly offers. “And as for the album itself, it’s like a mini phonograph, so you can play it whenever you want.”

Sunday’s hand clasps tightly over his mouth as to hold back the tears that threaten to break from his eyes. Golden rings scan Robin’s face, again and again, rechecking her signature to make sure that he isn’t seeing things.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispers. “I…” He inhales deeply to calm himself and reign back his composure. “...Thank you, Miss Firefly. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“You should be thanking your sister,” says Firefly. “She put some other things in the bag there for you, and- Silver Wolf? Did you give him your gifts yet?”

Silver Wolf doesn’t even look up from her game. “Nope. Give me a sec, I just gotta beat this level aaaaaand- done.”

She jumps up, her Origami bird fluttering in surprise as she does. Twirling her fingers, a phone materializes in her hold.

“Here’s your phone, newbie,” she says, stopping in front of Sunday. “I cleared it of all its tracking malware and transferred your frozen accounts from the IPC. Everything else should be the same.”

“Damn, you had tracking malware?” you comment, stealing back your seat now that Silver Wolf has left. Sunday sighs.

“Yes, the Dream Master was rather… paranoid.”

“That doesn’t matter though,” chirps Silver Wolf as Sunday takes back his phone. “I already got rid of it all, so it’s useless now. I also added you to the groupchat. Your sister’s been texting you like crazy, though. You might want to answer her.”

“...I’ll think about it,” says Sunday. The hacker shrugs.

“Do what you want, it’s not my business.” She starts up another level, evident by the 8-bit music playing from her phone. “Your old clothes should be in your room now; I put them on your bed for you.”

“You did? When?”

“Just now.”

You shoot a confused Sunday a smile. “Silver Wolf’s specialty lies in altering the data of reality.”

“Ah. Well, thank you Miss Silver Wolf.”

The hacker wrinkles her nose. “Just Silver Wolf is fine. Although, I have got to ask-”

She looks up, excitement and curiosity glittering behind her nonchalant facade.

“Why did you have so many copies of the same outfit? Are you like, an NPC?”

Sunday doesn’t seem to know what to do with Silver Wolf’s expectant gaze. He tilts his head.

“It’s merely a matter of convenience. I can’t wear the same clothes every day, that would be unsanitary. But the public has a certain image of me, and I had to uphold it - hence the clothes.”

“Oh.” Silver Wolf deflates. “That was significantly less interesting than I thought it’d be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t mind her,” you butt in. “She just likes to over exaggerate things so that she gets disappointed by them because she sets her expectations too high.”

“I do not!” Silver Wolf kicks you childishly, nearly spilling your wine in the process. You shoot her a glare.

“Yes, you do, I have receipts- do you want me to pull them out? I will pull them out.”

“Yeah, right. Screenshots? Recordings? Please, you know that’s useless against a hacker like me.”

“I’m not that unprepared you heathen-”

Elio sighs as the two of you begin bickering. Kafka chuckles, patting him on the head while Blade has already started napping standing up. Sunday glances at the two senior Hunters nervously.

“Are they always- like this?” he asks. Elio shakes his head in disappointment.

“You’ll get used to it.”

—

Later that night, Sunday sits in his room. There’s little to no light, save for the small lamp that sits on his bedside table. Soft piano music plays in the background, accompanied with the soft soprano of his sister.

“In candlelight, as time unwinds, I find myself, lost in your eyes.”

He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the still-white walls of his room. He welcomes the melody into his ears, allowing it to consume him in its song.

“In midnight tolls, as darkness folds, I see your tears, when we say goodbye.”

Flashes of Penacony’s scenery as he had fallen reemerge in his mind. He remembers the sunrise, the piercing light of the sun as it touched upon Golden Hour for the first time in years.

“Watching stars, as we drift on by.”

He remembers his sister’s embrace, the confusion and the fear, but also the relief and comfort of family.

“A touch,”

If he loses himself enough…

“A glance,

If he forgets enough…

“Fly away.”

He could almost believe that it’s his sister standing next to him that’s singing, not a recording.

“Will our paths converge, ‘neath the sun?”

Robin’s voice swells, and strings jump in to accompany it. Goosebumps chill his skin and his breath catches in his chest. His eyes squeeze, a strangling emotion he doesn’t recognize squeezing at his heart.

“A silent desire, in melody sung.”

For a moment, he sees her, he sees his sister, he sees Robin. It is almost as if she is speaking to him, singing to him, asking him of what fate has in store for them.

“Beyond this stolen night, we share a cherished dream.”

Indeed, they did. Her dream, their dream. A dream to fill the skies with their songs, to dance for the people they loved so much.

“Between souls whispered that it ‘seems’.”

But only one of them could make that dream a reality.

“Will shooting stars align ‘neath the sun?”

His eyes peek open, glossy and aching. The music heightens, and the dark ceiling blurs into the beginnings of a beautiful nightscape, full of twinkling stars and kissed by the retreating sun.

“In whispered hopes where journey's begun.”

Penacony smiles down at him, the home to which he’ll never return to. All twelve hours have passed, and a new day has begun.

“In dreams, we waltz the sky,”

His hand twitches. It flexes against the blankets, grasping for something, someone who isn’t there.

“You watch me drift on by,”

Oh, how he wishes he could hold her again, see her smile again, watch her sing once more. His heart aches to cradle his baby sister one last time, even if it’s for a second, just so that his last sight of her wouldn’t be of a smile with tears.

“In your memory, a whispered song,”

“A seed of hope where we belong.”

The song ends, leaving Sunday with a husk of a heart. A singular tear breaks free and slips down his cheek. For the first time, Sunday doesn’t think to wipe it.

His chest hurts, yet lighter, as if a weight has been lifted, leaving his heart to deal with the repercussions of bearing said weight for so long. He can breathe, painfully so, yet it is clear, crisp, rejuvenating.

He wants to see her again, but not now. Not yet.

But one day, they will.

His phone pings, snapping him out of his thoughts. He almost doesn’t want to check it, but it pings again and he picks it up reluctantly.

It’s you, he realizes, a small smile slipping onto his face.

Sunday grimaces at the memory. Last week, he’d made the mistake of admiring one of the flowers that grew over your door. Well, that flower turned out to be carnivorous, and very territorial, and it nearly took off a chunk off his finger had he not blasted it out of panic.

He still has to buy you a replacement.

He shakes his head, sighing with a smile. Out of reflex, he flexes the finger that had been bit. Had it not been for you, it would still be wrapped in bandages.

A soft laugh escapes him at your sticker. He scrolls up for a bit through the conversation, rereading it over and over again. Why? He doesn’t know. It just feels right.

His scrolling stops just over the attachment you sent. So this is his part of the script - Elio’s infamous prophecy that contains details of the future, down to the very second. He clicks on it.

Reading over it briefly, his brows furrow.

“Alfeasa-VIII, is it?” he murmurs.

He’s heard of the planet before; a prosperous kingdom with loyal and loving subjects that worshiped the Preservation. He’d never paid much attention to it, though, as the most interaction he’d ever gotten from it were a few of its nobles who came to Penacony for vacation.

His fingers stop just above a paragraph in his script that seems all too out of place.

At 22:38:10 system time, the reigning kingdom of Alfeasa-VIII will fall. [Name] will dispense multiple gas bombs at the banquet. They will give you one gas mask to give to a person of your choosing. Whoever you choose will become the next ruler of Alfeasa-VIII. I trust that you will choose wisely.

—

Bonus (left on read):

<< previous || series masterlist || next chapter >>

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail sunday #hsr sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #honkai star rail sunday x reader #sunday x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #━━ series : on the other side of morality #honkai star rail series #archives 🏵️

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selfloverrrrrr · 2 months ago

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Witch!Reader x Demon!Satoru. He promises to fulfill her wish in exchange for something. She wants to be seen as a human being instead of a monster, the only thing she really wants is to be loved, and unfortunately he knows that. He fulfills her wish, but in return he imprisons her in his castle and promises to give her all the love and care she deserves (but in a very dark way).

The Ritual~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, demon Gojo, witch reader, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

I was born in a witch family. My mother was a witch too. So were my ancestors. I'm also a witch. I didn't know what was it when I was a kid. Is being a witch a good thing or a bad thing? I always used to ask myself. But all I knew was my mom always used to hide the fact from everyone that we all are witches.

So many years passed. I grew up. I'm an adult now. And I still don't have the answer that if being a witch is good or bad. But for me it became a curse. A curse for which my whole family got killed. The king hired to kill all the witches in his kingdom. He's such a powerful king. And that's why my family isn't with me now.

We all were unaware that they were attacking us. It was the middle of the night. I saw them kill everyone in front of my eyes. I ran away from there. But they saw me. I ran all I could. And for god's blessings they couldn't find me. Now I made a small hut in the forest.

All time fear attacks me that they will find me and kill me too. I can't live like this. I need to find a way where I can live like normal people. So I started learning witches techniques. Maybe any of them will help me? I started reading the books of my ancestors.

I started learning many magics. But none of them are for what I was trying to find. I never did witch activities before. I started searching in all those books. Maybe, just maybe something that will make me like the other normal people and I can live a normal life just like them?

I searched all I could. But nothing was related this. But then I found something. A book which is sealed. I looked at it. It was the last hope. I opened the seal. It was too old. Am I even gonna find anything from here? I opened the book anyways. After some time of reading what I found can actually help me. The things written in the book are:

"He got sealed. After all those trying, we all witches are successful. We sealed him. He, the strongest demon. He got birthed and from that day it was all the witch's job to end him. Though its not possible to kill him. He's too powerful. We all were also shocked that we got him sealed. He was birthed to destroy the world. He wants to rule it. He has destroyed too many places. He has killed too many people. And after doing rituals we managed to seal him. That demon, that monster's name is:

Gojo Satoru"

I kept turning the pages and the last page got my attention.......

Process to unseal Gojo Satoru

He'll fulfill your wish

My heart started beating wildly. Should I do it? It is mentioned that he is too dangerous. But he'll fulfill my wish. I don't have anything in my life. Does it even matter if I risk it? If I don't do it people are gonna try to kill me all the time. Then I should take a risk. I have to go to the place mentioned in the book.

The place mentioned in the book is the old burnt castle at the end of the forest. I've seen that castle from the young age. Everyone told me to stay away from there. But they never told me the story behind it. Today I got to know about the real story behind it.

The ritual needs to be done at night. So I collected all the things that were needed in the ritual that day. And I went there the next night. I wore a hooded dress so that no one could recognise me. And I was lucky that there weren't any people there. I quickly made my way inside the old castle with a candle in my hand.

I entered the castle. It was huge. There's dust everywhere. And the castle is burnt also. It made me curious about what happened here? I kept walking. The huge stairs from the middle. I have to go to the top room of this castle. As in the book there's a throne room which is the ritual room. I went up there.

I pushed the door open and my mouth was wide open by the beauty of the throne room. I wondered what it looked like when it wasn't burnt. I went towards the throne. I don't have enough time to do the ritual. I quickly set up what was written in the book. Then lit up all the candles. Then started doing the ritual. My heart was thumping against my chest.

As I completed the spell. The wind started flowing heavily. Suddenly all the candles were extinguished together. Then the wind stopped flowing. And all of a sudden all the candles lit up together again. Then I saw a tall human figure sitting on the throne.

He has a huge masculine body. He's tall, has handsome sharp features, white hair, white eyelashes and those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks exactly the same said in the book. He's wearing all black royal clothes. He turned his head on both sides and the cracking sound echoed through the room. Then he looked at me.

Can that beautiful person be that dangerous? I asked myself. "So you're the one who unsealed me?" He spoke. I have to respect him. "Yes, my lord" I replied looking at the ground. "Hmmmmm.....well, this place is still burnt and dusty everywhere.... and I don't like my castle to lose its beauty" he said and threw a hand beside him.

A blue ray came out of his hand. And all of a sudden the castle turned all new. Not burnt anymore neither dust anywhere. I was already gorgeous and now it has become more gorgeous. A huge black gorgeous castle. "Hmm.....so what's the reason you unsealed me?" He asked.

"my lord, I'm a witch.... people of the king are killing all the witches. They killed my family too. I don't wanna live like this. I was to live like normal people. I want everyone to think of me like normal people. I want to be loved." I replied. And then there was silence. I could feel him staring at me.

"So you don't wanna be a witch any more and want to be loved right?"he asked. "... yes. My lord" I replied. He smirked. "Okay....done" he said swiping his finger in the air. My eyes widened in hope that now I can live like normal people. I looked at my hand and the witch sign was gone.

That means..... that means I'm not a witch anymore? I was so happy. "T-thank you... thank you, my lord" I said with a smile on my face. I stood up. I said "I should go now-" he didn't let me finish "No" he said. It almost seemed like an order. I dared to look at him. And there was a sinister smirk on his face.

"I didn't give you permission to leave" he said and went up from the throne. And within a blink I was standing in front of me. I got frightened and took a step back with a gasp. "You scared?" He asked with a smirk. I didn't reply. "Are you?" He asked again tilting his head. ".... N-No" I replied.

"okay.... then come with me... let me show you something" I said with a grin offering a hand to me. I have to accept his hand and so I did. And within a blink we both were standing in front of the window. How fast is he? "Look at the kingdom. I own this. I'm gonna burn this place" he said. Now he was definitely terrifying me.

He placed a hand on my waist and pulled me against him. Now this is getting too uncomfortable. "And you'll be watching them die with me from here. And I'll kill them first who killed your family" he said. What does that mean?! "M-my lord I should go now" I said. "And I already said no" he said looking at me.

"you want to be loved, right?..... you'll be living here in my castle with me.... and I'll give you all the love you need" he whispered in my ear. My eyes widened. Oh no no no. This is not what I want. He wants to kidnap me in his castle?! Shit I don't have my powers anymore either. What should I do now?!

"what happened?" He asked and nuzzled his face on my neck. I took a deep breath and pushed him. Then ran all I could. I was running through the corridor and bumped into someone. Of course it's none other than Gojo Satoru. I don't have any ways now. I automatically started crying.

He smirked. "Didn't thought someone has the bravery to disobey me" he said and started walking towards me and I started walking backwards. "P-Please let me go I don't want that life" I cried. "Oh darling you don't know how much I love to see people crying. And for your life I'm the one have the power to decide how you'll live" he said.

Then he clapped his hand and we both were standing in a.... BEDROOM?! He grabbed my hand and pulled me against him. "Now tell me what you were saying?" He asked. "P-Please....let go... P-Please" I said. "Let you go? But didn't you wish to be loved? I'm giving you the love you deserve" he said while grabbing my ass and squeezing it.

I yelped at that. "P-Please I don't want to stay her-" before I could even complete my sentence he threw me on the bed and claimed on me. I screamed so loudly out of fear when threw me on the bed. "Didn't you say you're not scared? That seems like a lie now" he said and took off a strand of hair out of my face.

"it's been years since I was sealed. Never thought I'll get this gorgeous gift as soon as I get unsealed " he said with a smirk and pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push his chest but he grabbed my hands and held them beside my head while kissing me aggressively. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth.

I was shaking my head in protest but he didn't stop. When he stopped he immediately grabbed the top of my dress and tore it off. How strong is he??? He tore off a dress with Corset with his hands?! I almost screamed when he did. I covered myself and tried to crawl up.

He grabbed my hair and made me look at him. "Did I say to cover yourself???" He asked. His eyes shined. Tears falling down from my eyes. He smirked and licked my neck with his long tongue. I was shaking from fear. "You know seeing you scared makes me more turned on" he whispered.

I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensation. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even affect him. "M-my lord stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling.... I won't kill you if you call me Satoru"

Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " S-Satoru no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged and called him Satoru as he said so maybe he listens to me? but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " you know.... you're the first witch I love....I always hated all the witches.... never seen such a gorgeous witch like you.... f-fuck what great present I got as soon as I got unsealed" he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrusts I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. "Do you still think you can make me stop?" He said with a smirk. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.

"You need to be loved? I'll give you all the love you deserve..... now spread your legs again.... I'm not done yet.... I was sealed for over 500 years.... you don't expect me to stop right now, do you?" He said and chuckled demonicly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

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bunni-v1 · 18 days ago

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sunday x m reader who wont shut up while hes working so he makes reader cockwarm him to shut him up

Cockwarming With Sunday

🍓Dom Sunday makes my skin crawl. Anyway, I went for a softer take than what you wanted, sorry lol. Even when Sunday tops I can't see him as all that mean, at least, not in the way this was worded lol. Anyway, I'm very well Sunday's biggest hater (I love him more than life itself), so I hope you enjoy this. I want him dead.

Tw: NSFW; Implied power dynamics; Mean(?) Sunday; Grammar Errors; ts kinda ass

Info: Dom!Sunday x M!Reader (it's hard to tell lol); Cockwarming; pre ae sunday; Nsfw

Word Count: 1.5k

Sunday was always considered to be a patient man, especially with those he considered important to him. He had put up with plenty of Robin's silly plans and humored her with delight -- he loved her after all, and any plan she had wasn't truly all that silly so long as it came from her. He even enjoyed her endless conversations when he was meant to be finishing up paperwork. His time with her was sparse, he could afford extra time away from his duties for her. She never kept him for long anyway, understanding his position better than anyone else.

You, however, did not have the excuse of being his darling sister. You spent a significant amount of time with him, both in and out of work, and he had all the time in the world to spend with you. Which meant you knew better than most others how much he needed to fill out this report today. Yet... you kept running those stupidly pretty lips of yours.

He wasn't even sure what you were talking about, he'd tuned you out about ten minutes into your talking. Nearly an hour had passed, and you were still going on and on about something or another -- he catches that it's about an up-and-coming artist you'd seen, not that he cares for any musician that isn't his sister. It wouldn't be so bad if you were just talking, he'd mastered the technique of ignoring things that seemed to get under his skin, but you needed assurance that he was listening.

He would occasionally have to pause and answer questions without much context, or hum in acknowledgement of your words. Your incessant rambling is normally incredibly endearing to him, but with the deadline looming over his head, and the ache stinging between his brows it was enough to make it vexing.

He lets out a sigh, hands pressing the pen to the desk just a bit too harshly. You silence yourself, flinching back a little in surprise. He nearly coos, he hadn't meant to scare you, but you were very cute when frightened. (Perhaps he shouldn't be thinking such things...)

"My love," He hums, meeting your gaze with a calm smile, "you know I love having you around, don't you?"

You nod, nervousness shining in your eyes, giving you away despite the brave front you put on. You were always too easy for him to read, a bit concerning considering the enemies he has, but he'd prefer you pliant than hardened -- at least, in that way.

He gestures to the papers on his desk, "You also know how important it is that I get this done today, yes?"

"Of course," You answer immediately, and he can see the realization of why he was scolding you across your face. So very cute. "Was I talking too much?"

He hums an affectionate smile on his face, and gestures for you to come to his side. You do so with no arguments, as expected. He turns in his chair, grabbing you by your hips to situate you between his legs. You flush a bit at the contact, predictable as always, but he chooses not to comment on it.

"I need to get this done, angel," He asserts again, and you frown shamefully.

"Would you like me to leave?" You offer, but the idea sours something in his chest.

He shakes his head adamantly, "Of course not. I love having you here, but you'll have to behave for me."

There is a spark behind your eyes at his words that makes him ache a bit, his member coming to life much too fast for his liking. The effect seems to be mutual, as far as he can tell from his position near your crotch. His placid smile morphs into a slight smirk, and his eyes meet yours again, "You can behave for me, can't you?"

You nod adamantly, "Of course, s-sir." The title is stuttered, somehow unsure despite your knowing very well what he wanted from you now. It was so adorable how concerned you were with overstepping with him. You truly could do no wrong in his eyes, even when you were getting in the way of his work.

"Then," he pushes you to step back, leaning back in his chair, "Take your pants and underwear off for me. Quickly, I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

You nod again, doing as he says like a well-trained pet, pretty eyes looking to him for approval as you shove the clothes to the side. He rewards you with a smile, leaning forward to run a finger along the bottom of your hard cock. You hiss at the sensation, drawing a chuckle from his chest.

He eases himself out of his pants as he tugs on your sensitive member a few times, enjoying the little whimpers you give him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach. He leans back again as it does, telling you what to do with his eyes alone. You follow along like in a trance -- he'd almost believed you were under the influence Harmony, if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t using it in the moment.

You hiss lowly as he slides into you. Going raw must've been painful for you, but it felt heavenly for him. Your ass squeezed him so well like it was meant to hold him deep within. He smiles reassuringly at you as you finally sit fully on his lap, taking your chin in his hand to settle a kiss to your lips.

"Very good," He compliments.

You bite your lip, averting your gaze, "Thank you, sir."

He tuts at you, drawing your gaze back just as quickly as it left, "You can sit still and wait like a good boy, can't you? If you can't well..."

"Of course I can!" You respond with a desperation that surprises both of you, quickly adding, "Sir."

"Good, good," he hums, pressing a warm hand against the back of your neck. Your chin rests against his shoulder on instinct, getting comfortable against him. Once he's satisfied with you behaving, he leans forward and starts back to working on the document you'd been distracting him from.

The scratching of his pen is one of the only things keeping you grounded in reality. The stretch of his thick cock in your ass is almost too much for your brain to handle. You shouldn't have been talking so much, honestly, this is no one's fault but your own. Still, the torture of not being allowed to move for fear of worse punishment is enough to make you want to cry.

You sit there pretty on his dick like a good boy, though. Always so obedient for him, if only he didn't have to tell you to behave. No one is perfect, so this was a sacrifice Sunday had to make to keep things as he liked.

His fingers climb up your spine, tingling across your body right to your achingly hard cock. You almost hear Sunday chuckle when it twitches between the two of you, but it's so quiet you believe you might've made it up in your fucked out brain. You wiggle your hips in an attempt to get some friction, but all Sunday has to do is place his hand on it and you cease all movements.

Sunday seems, on the outside, entirely unaffected by everything. For the most part, he really is. He's blasting through his work faster than before, but that was because he couldn't wait much longer to bend you over the papers and reward you for good behavior. Each squeeze around him has him swallowing down groans, determined to not give into your temptations -- no matter how wonderful that sounded.

When he signs the last dotted line and closes the stack of papers back to the front page he lets out a sigh that resembles more of a moan than anything as you clench anticipatorily around him yet again. His pen is set on the desk with a little 'click', and he finally looks at you after agonizing minutes of your squirming. Lust has clouded over his gaze, and he looks positively angelic nearly lost to his own sin.

You are no better, pleading with your eyes for him to fuck you like the sweet thing you were. Tears pricked at the corners of your lashes, a picture of absolute beauty. He smiles at you, wiping them away from your cheeks as they spill over.

"You were very good, my sweet angel," He hums, moving his hands to your hips, "you deserve a reward for behaving, don't you?"

You nod adamantly, your heart picking up in excitement. He raises an eyebrow expectantly at you, and you know what you're meant to do next without the need for words. Standing from his lap, hissing as he leaves your tight hole, and bending over his desk like the good pet you were.

"Very good..." He hums, and your spine tingles in excitement as you hear his pants and belt hit the floor around his feet.

#x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#sunday #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #hsr sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #sunday honkai star rail #honkai star rail sunday

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mirensiart · 2 months ago

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Hey Miry what are some fun (or maybe angsty) headcanons you have for the boys, including Chain?

Hmmmm 🤔 ok let me think

Sky: I know most people headcanon Warriors as the field medic, but I feel Sky is also versed in first aids and is really good at it, he has excellent bedside manner. Like the knight academy probably taught him all about it, so the 3 medics of the gang are warriors, hyrule and him. I also believe he has an impeccable stitch technique, like barely leaves scars at all. Really dexterous with his hands too, thanks to his wood crafting and harp playing, he's really good with them hands lmao.

Four: he's a blacksmith sure, and knows a lot about making weapons and maintaining them, but I like to believe he's also really good and making stuff out of leather. Like he knows how to make leather belts and pouches for the weapons his grandpa makes or leather clothes as protection in battle. Idk just a very crafty little guy that offers the entire deal aka a weapon and the leather belts to carry it, all in one service hehe

Time: I like to believe he lost his eye in a very mundane non heroic way, like maybe he fell off a rowdy horse and landed in the worst way possible or a farm centric accident. He makes up different stories about how he lost it, every time someone asks, he changes it, some stories are batshit insane and some others are super normal. He actually has told the real way he lost the eye in between the fake stories, but no one believes him. He thinks it's hilarious btw.

Twilight: I've mentioned before that I headcanon him to be a very sensitive guy, like small things can make him tear up aka a baby animal absolutely makes him want to start sobbing lmao. I like to believe he gossips and talks a lot with his epona as wolfie, like when you're in wolf form in twilight princess you can talk to animals and epona is so sweet with him when you talk to her, they are soulmates man. The guys do something dumb and he turns into wolfie just to walk to epona like "can u believe those guys??" Epona knows everything tbh like he tells her everything, she's the only one who truly knows his woes over losing midna.

Wind: I love to believe the little guy can legit control the winds, like the wind waker is a way for him to channel his magic, but he can control the wind unconsciously, too. When he gets really mad, the winds pick up speeds around him, or if he's happy, a gentle breeze circles around him, etc. His hair is always blowing in the breeze even when he's inside doors, and there's no wind. It just does that.

Legend: Excellent gardener, has a talent for growing plants, flowers, and trees. They flourish under his care. Extremely particular about soil and water and shadow/light for his plants, he not only has an apple orchard, but also grows veggies and rare flowers. Ravio maintains his garden under extreme rules and guidelines lmao ravio is not allowed to sell the apples or veggies from legend's garden, but legend encourages rav to use them for cooking instead.

Hyrule: disney princess aka animals love him lmao typical guy who befriends every single creature he meets, he could pacify a bear if he wants to. His fae part is what makes him have such an affinity with nature in general, I see him as the elves from LOTR who can feel and communicate with trees and they guide him. It's why he never uses maps, he doesn't need them.

Wild: using LOTR as my base for headcanons again lol but I see him like aragorn in the sense that aragorn is a human who was raised by elves so he feels a strong connection to elf culture because of it. I picture wild to be the same, but with the zoras, since he was childhood friends with mipha, we can imply he spent A LOT of time in zora's domain as a child. He is way more versed in zora customs, language, holidays, etc, than the hylian ones. It's also why I feel the older zora are so pissed off with him in botw, like they saw him as one of their own for so long, utter betrayal that he didn't protect their princess (mipha) and failed them all lol he has some zora mannerism in the sense that sometimes, he eats fish raw LMAO when he absentmindedly ate one in front of everyone the first time everyone was shocked for a while lmao

Warriors: absolute nervous wreck, always riddled with anxiety, really low self-esteem, is probably screaming 24/7 inside his head at all times, but is EXCEPTIONAL at faking it, like fake it til you make it is his way of life lmao he exudes over confidence and is always worried about his looks as a way to hide how much of a mess he truly is. Time & Wind has seen him at his worst and know that he's a great actor, which helps him cause he can stop pretending around them for a while

And now my link lmao

Chain: All bark, no bite. He is ironic and sarcastic and shows himself as a tough guy, but he's actually a sweetheart, and things get to him pretty easily. He learned pretty early on than carrying his heart on his sleeve is a really bad idea around the Bounty Hunter guild, since soft nice guys don't last long, so he replies to hurtful comments with sarcasm and a tough attitude, when in reality he's really hurt lmao he also jokes to cope, he'd rather throw a joke or two at you than really open up and talk about his feelings.

#miry's ask box #lu headcanons #+ chain #though if he is my character is he really a headcanon 🤔#more like canon then right hehe

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ssentimentals · 2 months ago

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hello can you do n. 30. "you own my heart" with Dino, but with a context..? (if you want) so the reader is a singer but also a director/producer and she directed Dino's mv video/or movie and they spent a lot of time together and got feelings for each other. thanks

of course i can :) thank you of course for requesting, hopefully you will like it! 💜

fluff prompt: 'you own my heart.'

dino doesn't get attached. there are so many people that come and go with the course of his job, it makes no sense to open up your heart for someone who's going to leave anyways. throughout the years dino worked out the wholy technique of talking a lot without really saying anything, of being friendly and polite without letting someone come close, of holding people at the distance without them feeling/knowing it. dino, not humbly, thinks he's amazing at it. or he was amazing at it until you came along.

'last day on set!' someone cheers. 'finally this project is on its finish line!'

normally he'd be happy too. he loves his job, he does, but he is usually immensely satisfied when they can wrap up any project. not this time though. he glances at the back, his eyes immediately find your lonely figure as you go over the script again and again. he's trying to be subtle with his looking, of course; there are so many eyes on him, he doesn't want to start any stupid rumors that can hurt any of you. but he also can't stop looking, because this is the last day of him seeing you. after today you will leave on another project with another people and dino will just... stay. with his stupid heart that somehow decided to break all rules and fall into you. he will stay all alone, because you will leave without looking back, just like others before you did. dino wonders if he's brave enough to break the cycle.

'dino, on the position, we're starting!'

last days are always emotional and they always end up in some cozy dinner place, with drinks being shared along with hugs and teary words. dino's been watching you like a hawk this whole time, catching your eyes more and more until you not subtly point to the balcony. his heart is beating too fast for it to be normal, when he pushes the door and lets warm sea breeze welcome him. you're staring at him with a small smile, looking all flushed and pretty. 'dino, hi. sorry for pulling you out like this, but i think we need to say proper goodbye to each other without the whole crowd, you know?'

he knows. he also knows that he doesn't want to say goodbye to you, not now, not ever if he can help it. still, he's a professional, so he answers with: 'yeah, i thought so too. this project, making it with you was great, honestly. i'm very thankful.'

he's sincere and you can feel it, he knows. your smile grows wider and your cheeks if possible grow even pinkier and oh, he can't stop himself now. dino gives you compliment after compliment, watches with adoration as you start refusing them, shaking your head, laughing happily. god, he can't lose this, he can't lose you.

'you own my heart,' he blurts out, taking your hand in his. you freeze, blinking at him with wide eyes, but your hand trembles his, when you squeeze it. this has to mean something, right?

'oh, dino,' you let out quietly, tears sparkling in your eyes. 'i-'

'this does not have to be a goodbye,' he says, hoping he's conveying his message clearly. 'i don't want it to be a goodbye. not for me and you.'

you take a deep breath and when you exhale, your gaze is sharp and your hand is no longer trembling. 'okay.'

'okay?' dino asks, unsure.

you laugh a little, nodding. 'okay. i also don't want this to be a goodbye.'

dino doesn't kiss you because everyone would be able to see. he does, however, pull you into a hug far more intimate than the ones he gave others and presses his lips into your ear like a promise: 'not a goodbye, then. it's a 'see you soon'. very soon.'

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

#hope this is what you meant?#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #lee chan #seventeen dino #svt dino #seventeen dino x reader #dino x reader #svt dino x reader #lee chan imagine #lee chan seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #dino fluff #seventeen prompt

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vesanal · 9 days ago

Text

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦Aerlyra✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

A Character Introduction

“Can’t you get it? This is my one last chance to right everything wrong back to normal! I can finally be worth something for once in my life…”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦Information✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Name: Aerlyra Kcara Ghorne

Nicknames: Aer, Aery, and Lyra in some cases

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Orientation: Pansexual

Age: 29 years old

Birthdate: April 23rd

Birthplace: Haukrosen, Pytharios of Khri

Species: Human

Occupation: Fisherman & fish merchant

Education: Highly educated from the Queen’s Academy for Young Learners of Magic in Haukrosen, Pytharios of Khri

Current Residence: Korsk, Pytharios of Khri

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦Personality✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Aerlyra Ghorne can be defined by her compassionate attitude yet nervous nature. She is very receptive to others viewpoints and ideas, speaking with them about various topics and learning new things. But, she is also well known as a push-over to those around her. Along with being quite the meek and unassuming type, she also tries to stay out of everyone’s way to focus on her own needs. This is shown as she keeps her head down and out of trouble in Korsk, her new home, for now. While she is quite the generous person to those who really need it, sometimes she can be too generous as an overcompensation which lends itself directly into her gullibility. As in, she trusts in people way too often, leading to her getting hurt and running away from her problems. Emotions, despite her not really wanting them to, basically control her actions.

Surely better things are ahead in her future. Being chosen by the Queen to accomplish a job only she can do has definitely resparked her desires to please and lead others. Yet still, she has those worry-wort thoughts in the back of her brain.

MBTI Type: INFP-T

Alignment: Neutral good

Likes: Learning new things, other people & their stories/lives, keeping away from conflicts, reading, journaling, puzzles, loud & bustling environments, being nice to others

Dislikes: Not being on time, not living up to her own high expectations, letting her nerves & emotions get to her, quiet & alone places, herself, taking charge of herself/things in her life & other’s, public speaking, fish

Goals: Starting out, she just wants to survive to the next day. But, after she gets chosen by the Queen to kill the Bone-Binder, her entire mission, and worth, in life changes to solely just that as she wants to regain some semblance of a good reputation through that…

Hobbies: Trying out new braid techniques and hairstyles, reading, journaling, meditating, trying out new herbal teas from the market when she can fit it into her budget

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦Appearance✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Height: 5’ 6” or 167 cm

Weight: 145 lbs or 66 kg

Build: Pear shaped build; Lean and muscular, yet somewhat starved in recent years

Hair: Black and very curly, messily held together in 3 thick braids with a few strands falling out to the side of her face

Eyes: Black, wide eyes that shine even in the darkest of days

Skin Complexion: Pale beige with rosy patches covering her joints and face

Scars: None

Piercings: None

Tattoos: Small stars across the bottoms of her eyes, 3 on each side

✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦Extra✦⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆✦

Want to see more of Aerlyra?

More here!!

Check out the story here!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist:

@seastarblue @seafloor507 @stars-forever @viridis-icithus @estrellasxxminis @synthesistoagreatercreation @ink-stains-and-constellations @wyked-rebellion @satohqbanana @amatowriting @riverstixx @theodora47 @selfemployedmess @thebookishkiwi @17panicattacksinatrenchcoat @memento-morianon @the-ellia-west @write-with-will @jwritesalright @sunflowerrosy @myniceisniceblogbloglog @corinneglass

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theprettynosferatu · 1 year ago

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CW: Orientation play/conversion. Remember that your sexuality is valid, and conversion is NOT a thing beyond fantasy. Also, fuck "conversion therapy"

“All I’m saying is…”

“Look, you’re speaking out of your ass”, Ava said, barely containing her frustration.

“How am I speaking out of my ass? It has been done and thoroughly…”, he tried to reply.

“Yes, yes, Pavlov, blah blah blah. But you’re talking about something else entirely, not conditioning reactions”

“Not Pavlov, Skinner! Actions can be conditioned too. Look around you! Mobile games, casinos, even the goddamn army uses conditioning to…”

“Can we agree that there’s a difference between conditioning obedience in a controlled setting and whatever the fuck it is you’re suggesting? You’re not talking about tapping on impulse to buy funbucks in a game! You are talking…”

“It’s only a difference of degree, not of kind. With the right combination of techniques…”

“No, there’s a core there that you can’t just… overwrite. Some things can’t be changed. Like… like how you can’t hypnotize someone into doing something they would never do”

“You know that’s bullshit, right? The whole hypnosis thing. You absolutely can make someone do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just a matter of how you approach it. Like, you would never harm a person, okay? But if I change what your idea of ‘person’ is, say, by making it more narrow you would absolutely harm someone I made you see as a not-person. Or maybe you can be made to believe you’re helping them, not harming them”

“That’s some creepy cult shit, dude. And anyway you can’t write a paper on this because a) there’s no evidence and b) doing the research to get evidence would be absolutely immoral. So I say look for another topic and for the love of God don’t go around spewing that bullshit if you want to ever get laid. Oh, speaking of! Linda will be arriving shortly and we have a date night, so please, please try to be a normal roommate and not freak her out. For me, okay?”

“When have I ever freaked her out? Linda loves me! And who knows, maybe she has an opinion on our little debate”

“Dude, she’s an Art student. I doubt she’ll be interested in our weird Psych dissertations”

“Perfect! Fresh eyes!”

“See, that’s the kind of weird shit I-”

The buzzer cut through the air, and a moment later Linda was inside the apartment, all smiles as usual. He took a moment to watch them as they embraced.

They were almost comical in their contrast. Linda was tall, taller than he was, willowy and slender, her limbs graceful and shapely, her hair a long, flowing river of playful copper that almost seemed to dance on its own volition– with her green sundress she appeared to him as some sort of elven princess ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel and stuck into a mortal world in which she didn’t really fit. Ava, on the other hand, was probably the shortest adult he had ever seen. He might be tempted to call her petite, but that had a connotation of a lithe frame, almost like a tastefully proportioned doll. Ava was the complete opposite of that. Sometimes he felt Ava was an experiment aimed at testing how much of a person’s weight could be tits and ass, held up by strong, thick thighs. He felt quite guilty about such thoughts, and he understood why she wore nothing but oversized t-shirts and hoodies. It was logical: an early, spectacular growth spurt, heightened by her small size, had made her the target of relentless bullying by jealous classmates and awkward come-ons by hormonal teen males. It enraged him, he realized. Ava was beautiful and the cruelty of idiots had made her feel pain about it instead of pride. He made a point to never stare at her, even if he sometimes failed. It made their relationship as roommates a tad hard, he had to admit.

Not that he had a shadow of a shot, of course. Ava had no interest in men.

Unless, of course, he was right in his theory. And he had good reason to think he was.

“So, Linda: Ava and I were having a bit of a debate…”

“Don’t start, dude”, said Ava.

“Oh, a debate! Do tell!” chirped Linda.

“Do you think we can be completely conditioned and changed, or is there some part of us that cannot be modified, no matter what?”

“Huh. Hard one. Like… a soul? I don’t know I buy it. I feel there isn’t really a self, you know? Like… Buddhism. The self is an illusion and all that”

“Come on, you can’t be serious! You can’t change who someone fundamentally is, and it’s sick to even consider it!”, said Ava.

“Well… what if I could prove to you it can be done?”, he stated, barely able to hold back. He know what he was going to do. He had been reluctant, but now it felt like a certainty.

“You can’t, so stop being an ass”, said Ava.

Fine. Game on.

“Linda, I love your socks! Pride socks!”

“Yup!”, said Linda

“What the hell–”, mumbled Ava.

He took a deep breath.

“Linda: rainbow socks…”

She replied in an instant.

“Are for sucking cocks!”

Ava felt as if reality had shifted into some horrible, twisted nightmare. She was about to scream something, anything really, to make Linda take that back before something stopped her in her tracks. Her body heard it before her mind did: her roommate's voice simply commanding her. Watch.

And she watched. She watched as the love of her life smiled and went on her knees. Ava could do nothing but watch in disbelief and pain. Linda had never been with a man. Ever.

“I might have… started testing my theories. On you both. Not that you’d remember, obviously”, he stated casually as the beautiful girl in front of him lovingly undid his pants. “I’d say Linda’s sexuality is part of her core self, wouldn’t you? Let’s see how that holds up after the months of conditioning I’ve subjected her to”

He felt guilty, sure; but there was such a high to it, such an entrancing quality to the combination of seeing instant, complete obedience and the final, definitive proof of the truth he had known to be right all along. Was it wrong? Yes. Did he care? Not at the moment. Ava’s eyes were a poem to him. Suddenly he was ripped from his reverie by the soft, loving touch of Linda’s tongue on his dick. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten hard just from the sense of complete power, of total, undeniable conquest. This was a primal, ancient arousal. Ava could do nothing but watch, and he took that sight in. God, he could almost taste it.

Linda moaned. The cock was so beautiful. So perfect. She felt so… silly, like she was now, for the first time, seeing in color and realizing the sky was, in fact, blue. It was obvious. Simple. Natural. Cock deserved worship. Cock deserved devotion. Cock demanded obedience. It was as if it was growing in her mind, taking over more and more of her, pushing who she had been out effortlessly. It expanded. It corrupted. It twisted and shifted all within. Cock. Cock. Cock. She kissed it with reverence, in awe of it. It was all that existed to her. All that mattered. She needed to please it. Needed to feel it throbbing inside her. Needed to be taken by it.

Ava saw her girlfriend slide a hand between her legs and felt nauseous. As much as she knew this wasn’t Linda’s fault, she could feel her heart breaking, her anger rising… and worse, her pussy getting wet. Her body betraying her. She hated him, and she hated Linda, and she hated herself most of all.

Suddenly, Linda couldn’t contain herself. She relaxed her throat, looked up at her Master and took his entire manhood inside her mouth. She almost came instantly. It was peaceful and sexy and just simple, like his cock was the puzzle piece that fit her perfectly, completed her, made her whole. She existed to be conquered, and realizing she was putting his pleasure over her ability to breathe was the final sign of her complete, loving surrender. She let it out, watched it glisten with her spit, and started licking it and loving it and she didn’t know how much came from her own need and how much it was a silent command by the man who had shown her the light. Her mind was too fuzzy to make such distinctions anymore.

He took a deep breath, fighting back the first signs of an orgasm. He needed to make a point.

“Linda… do you love Ava?”

The blonde stopped for a moment, shocked by a myriad of contradictions.

“Yes”, she decided. Her voice was shaking.

“Tell her”

Linda looked at Ava, the woman she had loved above all others.

“I love you…”

“But you have more to say, don’t you?”

“I… hmph… I…”

“Tell her”

“I love you… but… but… I love his cock so much more! Fuck! I need it! I need to feel it, to suck it, to be fucked by it… I’m sorry… but… I love it, I love it, I love it! I want it to fuck my throat, to take my cunt, to ram my ass! I need it! I need to be a slave to it, a whore for it, a fucking living toy!”

“What if you had to choose between Ava and my cock?”

“Fuck her! Sorry, my love… I do love you, but… You can never do to me what… what Master does to me, what his cock makes me feel! I hope I won’t have to dump you but… I would leave you for this cock in a minute! I’d do anything. Anything. Anything!” If she had more to add, her need to serve cock snuffed it. She took it all in with desperation, with total, shameless abandon. She needed to feel... used. In her proper place.

Ava felt a tear roll down her cheek. Her knees buckled in defeat. She didn’t even care. It was all gone. Her life, her love, all gone. And she could feel her eyes drawn again and again to the cock that had destroyed her. She felt her mouth watering.

“Linda, would you say you’re a lesbian?”

“Fuck no!”, she said before immediately wrapping her lips around the cock’s head.

He felt a swell of pride. Of triumph. He knew Ava sensed the truth as well. He was right. He had proven his point. And now Ava’s full conditioning would take hold. A little bet with himself, making her own mental acknowledgment of his theory her final trigger. She took off her t-shirt. She would never wear it again. No more shame, no more pain about her figure. Only arousal and pride. His gift to her.

She crawled to him on all fours. The girls kissed– but now, they kissed for him, to arouse him. They were lovers, only they both knew there was a higher love. A truer love. Ava looked up at her owner and opened her mouth, greedily awaiting his blessing. Linda used her skillful hands, aiming his cock and teasing it, jacking it off, using just the right amount of pressure and speed.

No man could resist such a sight.

In a few seconds, Ava was covered in his cum, more beautiful than she had ever been. Linda certainly felt that way, and she licked and kissed her sister slut clean.

He watched carefully, looking for signs of defiance, and finding none. In fact, Linda put his fears to rest with a simple statement.

“Ava, we need to buy you a pair of rainbow socks”

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu !!

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i99zhuo · 11 months ago

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Could u make a routine inspired by kazuha ?

How to live like kazuha ⋆𐙚.ೃ⊹🩰°｡𓏲⋆𖦹 🦢₊˚ kazuhaism routine

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by le sserafim’s Kazuha! thanks for the request, hope you enjoy it!!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🎀 Kazuha starts her days by getting straight out of bed! You can take a few minutes just to think about your dreams or to meditate but after you're done get up without thinking so you avoid lazyness. After, head to the bathroom to do your hygiene routine (washing your teeth, face, body, etc.)

After you do your skincare, it's time for makeup, if i had to describe Zuha’s makeup in a few words i would use ‘natural’ ‘light’ and ‘clean’, even tho she uses as many products as other idols I've already talked about (brow pencil, eyeshadow, base makeup, contour, lashes, eyeliner, blush and lip tint), her makeup still pretty much simple, like just to enhance her natural features.

🧸Time to get dressed, Kazuha usually wears tops or basic t-shirts with baggy sweatpants, the colors she wears the most are white, black and gray. stylize the outfit with a beret or sunglasses!

Finally for breakfast, a good option is to have a sandwich with coffee, however any recipe that includes a lot of veggies in it will be ideal!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🩰 One of Zuha's favorite things is trying new things and showing progress! So always make sure to experiment with different study styles, techniques and resources. also, remember that progress is not about going from an F to an A, but about improving slowly and enjoying the path to your goals.

To learn and practice her Korean, Kazuha reviews vocabulary daily, using it on small phrases to memorize their meaning. As a visual learner, she also associates words with drawings and writes in her notebook often.

🥥 And to improve her English she usually practices talking with Yunjin. You can ask a friend to tutor you in any signature you feel you are lacking and make learning fun!

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🪷 Kazuha’s most famous charm is her healthy and beautiful body, as well as her flexibility. She workouts everyday in her dorm room, and has a lot of different workout routines, so I decided to make a schedule so you can try them all!

monday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), Kazuha new abs workout and full body stretch.

tuesday -> le sserafim workout (short version), Kazuha upper body workout, stretch

wednesday -> le sserafim workout, Kazuha abs workout, stretch

thursday -> le sserafim workout, upper body workout, stretch

friday -> le sserafim workout, kazuha lower abs workout, stretch

saturday -> le sserafim (short), upper body, stretch

sunday -> le sserafim workout (no jumps / low impact), stretch

🌷 Also, you can try and enroll in a ballet class, it's never too late to try!

✸ ꒰ shower + self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before taking your shower, take off your makeup with micellar water or an oil based cleanser. Then bath like you would normally do, but start your shower with lukewarm water and finish with a cold rinse!

🦢 Then use a soft foam cleanser to wash your face, let it air dry, and then use a gentle toner, calming ampoule and cream to set the moisture.

Now for self care, Zuha enjoys spending time doing diamond paintings or other kinds of diys, like decorating phone cases. She also videocalls her friends often in her free time, spending time with friends really helps with our mental health! You can also try and make little handmade gifts for your besties.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🐩 Dinner time! eat a yogurt bowl with nuts and honey (or any toppings you like) and eat it while watching youtube videos.

After eating she takes her journal and writes about her day and her emotions, she tries to be as concise as possible so no matter if she’s tired or doesn't have time she's still able to reflect on her day!

👛 Then she does her last review on the things she's studying, doing this before going to sleep helps you remember it better.

If she's with the members she will obviously watch a scary movie and have fun with her friends before going to bed!

💋 Finally stretch a little in your bed to be more flexible, have a better posture and to help you to fall asleep faster!

Good night!

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗ ˖࣪ ໒꒱ ˚₊·

Heyyy tysm for reading hope you liked it even if it was a little rushed!

I closed my request cus I kept getting them and I really want to focus on the ones that I already have hehe but don't worry I will re-open them once im done!

Also while making this I noticed it was really similar to the how to live like Yunjin I was making sooo idk if I should finish it or not, what do u guys think?

anyways I think that's all

toodlezzzzz!11!!1

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago

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alright so i've been obsessing over family man and the more i think about it the more i'm convinced that the cat is gonna come out of the bag at some point. gojo might not want reader to know about jujutsu society, but becoming MRS gojo kinda puts a giant target on her back and the back of her baby and it's unfortunate that she doesn't know it. but. reina is capable of becoming a sorcerer, right?

how do we think familyman!gojo would be like as a dad during her upbringing, especially her teen years, when kids become far more interested in asserting themselves and differentiating themselves from their parents? would he be more controlling of her and if so when? he's so lenient with kids and encouraging them to grow they way they really want to, and i think this gojo would be like that as a dad as well. except. how it could implicate his relationship with reader.

would reina become a student at the tech, or would gojo try to keep her in the dark, too? gaslight her? or maybe worse, let her in on jujutsu society and try to turn it into an 'our little secret' thing, encouraging her to keep anything like that from her mom and sort of delude her into thinking she's protecting her mom by keeping her in the dark as much as possible. (rip kiyo and unnamed grandpa you have no chance at having any serious influence over gojo reina's life now even if you did love her, god forbid satoshi's influence be allowed to surface anywhere)

what would that be like for reader to have her daughter become a sorcerer and not really know it? for gojo to put a wedge between the two of them and keep the two of them from being able to honestly communicate with each other? would he intentionally try to make it a wedge? would he want what's best for reina (having an open and honest relationship with her mom) or would securing reader's ignorance be his number one concern?

what would it be like for him to even become reina's teacher? how would that influence his relationship with her? because canon gojo, i could see him trying to be the best dad he could be no matter what blood relation, and i think out of all the yan's familyman!gojo is amongst the closest to canon gojo in terms of disposition and circumstances (which is probably why he thrills me aslkjjsa),

but. the yan factor. how would reina having more agency and being in the position she is in change everything? and also. this reader isn't dumb. prone to missing things and denial, sure, she's kinda occupied with a LOT. but. i think she'd notice if something was up with reina. she already kinda notices that something's up with gojo, especially after he's made his romantic intentions apparent.

wouldn't reina inheriting her father's cursed technique just about ruin everything for gojo? because as much as she might not want to, this reader can connect the dots.

so like...as cruel as it is to say, the only reason gojo rlly cares about reina is cuz she's ms.sawai's daughter. he kinda sees reina as an extension of miss sawai. as we saw in the fic, he kept obsessing over how similiar miss sawai and reina were. as reina gets older, their relationship with eachother will get more distant. yknow how some parents only want babies and not humans? yeahhhh thats gojo! so he's not gonna be as controlling over her as he would be on miss sawai+any kids they have together. reina gets the best scenario in this case

i think i mentioned this in another ask but reina is a sorcerer and will have ce. so yes miss sawai will also learn about curses as well as how important gojo is buuuut miss sawai isnt gonna be able to put together the dots of what rlly happened to satoshi cuz there's no real papertrail. gojo is able to keep the stuff that he wants secret, a secret.

as for reina, due to miss sawai, i dont think she'll fully become a sorcerer (aka go to jujutsu tech/learn about CE). miss sawai wants reina to live a normal happy life. buuut the same cannot be said for the children miss sawai has with gojo. even if miss sawai tries to plead the case for them to live normally, gojo+ the clan wont accept it. he's gonna consider those extensions of himself and so ya, their all gonna be sorcerers.

strangely enough, Gojo's favorite kid will be reina. again, its mainly due to him seeing her as an extension of you, but he prefers her over his biological children.

and reina wont inherit satoshi's technique cuz the technique wasnt an inherited technique! but for the sake of discussion...i still dont think miss sawai would be able to put the dots together. despite how crazy the jjk world is..how can you figure out that your now husband fell in love with you via switching bodies with your late-husband and then got so jealous he wound up killing him to take his place???

#yandere #asks #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark content #Family man ask

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followthebluebell · 3 months ago

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hi! i wanted to ask about trying to adopt a second cat when your first one has been solo her whole life. mine was already an adult when i got her so since i was always home anyway i didn't try, but this might change so i want to get ahead of it. how do i tell when to stop trying if they don't get along? (i've read it can take months for cats to get used to each other) and what do i do if it doesn't work out? (do i try again with a different one? do i give her up to someone who has more time?)

Full disclosure: I've never had to introduce a fully grown adult cat into my home without knowing that my cat at home was already cat-friendly or at least cat-tolerant. My cats have always had other cats around, with the exception of Saia. I adopted Saia when she was about a year old, but I had the luxury of knowing, more or less, how she'd do around other cats.

There's something in dogs called the Rule of Threes and I find it holds fairly true for cats too. The general idea is that your new pet spends about three days settling into their new home (this can take MUCH longer for very nervous animals), three weeks to establish a routine, and three months to fully display their personality.

With this in mind, if a cat isn't integrated into the house and getting along with another cat within three months, there is something going on and it's time to try a different method.

While I'm disclosing stuff, I'll add that it took Yardstick and Saia about three months to get along. Saia got along fairly well with Kaylee pretty much immediately because Kaylee simply didn't want to do much with her besides give her the occasional groom and be groomed in return. Saia got along with my dog fairly quickly because my dog is extremely respectful of cats.

Yardstick was not. Yardstick was, at that point in his life, a little bastard. I hadn't started harness training him just yet so he was really super excited about this younger cat (a potential playmate! Finally someone who might want to wrestle with him!!) coming into his home. He'd come on WAY too hard and fast for Saia's comfort and didn't understand her cues to stop.

Which was weird because Yardstick was always pretty respectful of his older sisters (Skitten and Kaylee). But for some reason, it just didn't... translate very well to Saia. I still don't really understand why, honestly.

There were never any severe conflicts between the two. Like there was never any blood spilled.

So what ended up working for Saia and Yardstick was just giving Yardstick another outlet for his energy. Once that was established, he stopped hounding her all the time. Now they play together daily, both respecting each other's cues and desires.

This clearly wouldn't have worked if both cats weren't able and willing to work (for lack of a better phrase). They both were capable of living peacefully together. It wasn't like either cat was openly cat-fractious or cat-unfriendly. They just needed some time and technique to sort out what the problem was.

I think I'm meandering a bit here. To start with, I find the Jackson Galaxy method of cat introductions pretty sound, so that's a good place to start. That alone will give you a good idea on whether or not the cats will get along.

It's normal for cats to hiss at each other at first. A bit of puffing up is also normal.

Actual fights are not normal and you will recognize one pretty much immediately. A cat fight is VERY loud and pretty bloody. There will be fur flying and screaming. If you see that, I don't recommend just trying with another cat unless you're VERY certain that the other cat is the aggressor.

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hestzhyen · 23 days ago

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Chapter 63 Cool Posting

Hi, kind void. Today's chapter is straight out of an action movie! It's light on lore but chock-full of cool stuff (and some names at long last) so let's get into it.

Rough TL of editor's notes (don't take as competent):

Colour page: 音を割ぎ, 匂を割ぎ, 獲物の元へ忍び寄れ- [] Cut all sound, cut all smell, then sneak up on your prey- This one's fun because "cut" as in "eliminate" works in both EN and JP! Last page: 巻墨とチ-ムで!! [(Nakama) to chiimu de-!!] Teaming up with allies (the Masumi)!! The kanji for Masumi (巻墨) have Ruby over them spelling out nakama (なかま), the word that usually means ally/partner.

Really cool perspective shot on the colour page, by the by!

Code Name: Uh...?

Please live.

So, we finally got names for our Masumi Ninja Maids. But they're kind of, um. I feel bad for these guys if they aren't code names or nicknames ha ha.

"Ms. Masumi" is Sumi (炭): charcoal/coal "Minimura" is Rou (郎): son/young man (archaic) "Masumi Bro" is Moku (杢): woodworker/figure pattern in wood

Normally these kanji are combined with others to make a proper given name; they basically don't exist by themselves as a way to refer to someone outside of a family/surname from what I can find. I think I feel the worst for Sumi since her full name sounds like a Lalafell's from FFXIV: Masumi Sumi (巻墨炭) lol. But yeah. Names at last, even if they're kinda headscratchers! Just like the nature of this ink sorcery.

Random bullshit, go!: the ability

At this point I'm definitely operating under the assumption that Sumi's sorcery is basically just Rule of Cool: Ink Version. I guess she can manifest anything she wants or needs if she has the time to write whatever inscriptions are necessary. I've never read Naruto in full (fake weeaboo, cancel me on TWT) but apparently this is similar to how Fuinjutsu works in that series? In the sense that a user can write a "seal" and concentrate their power into it to do something crazy cool that may or may not actually have anything to do with sealing something.

In the Masumi's case, I think their surname literally meaning "rolled up ink [scroll]" is a dead giveaway that this is basically how the technique functions- the user channels their sorcery into a written inscription for a desired effect. So they're basically OP if given infinite time to train and prepare for a fight, and will have all kinds of ass-pull types of clutch factor if they stick around.

...Speaking of.

I have a kind of ominous feeling about these guys beyond the jokes about how elite squads have a high mortality rate in this series. I don't want to be one of those doomsday prophecy guys, but this chapter ends pretty optimistically in a way that makes me think we'll be saying goodbye to them at some point. We have some significant emotional investment in them by now but they're not critical enough to keep around despite the deep ties to Samura. I don't think it'll be next chapter or anything, but... they could be another Elite Squad Statistic sooner or later is all I'm saying. I want them to live though. Rou's kind of growing on me, Moku's got amazing himbo energy in a series critically lacking in hunks, and Sumi can pat my head and call me a "good boy" any day.

(Warning, pure speculation ahead.) Also, referencing chapter 53 where it seems like Chihiro's hellbent on taking his own path but is trying to rely on others- if he loses the Masumi after seeing Uruha die and Hakuri be gravely injured, then he's probably going to spiral down even further and try to go it alone for real like Samura is. That could be when Hakuri comes back in for the save where Uruha tried and failed with his mentor. But I'm just spitballing with this so I'll leave it be until we get a better idea of where the Chihiro/Samura and Hakuri/Uruha parallels are going. Don't want to get too attached to a development that may well not even happen.

For now I will pray they live and keep supporting Chihiro in all kinds of silly and cool ways. Buck the trend and don't become an Elite Squad statistic!

"Quality" Analysis Section

Just in case you forgot how fucking exhausted Chihiro must be.

The author lampshading his own breakneck pace isn't just a cheeky jab at the people fretting about it- I see this as a deliberate callout that Chihiro is going to run himself into the ground and truly break. Referencing chapter 53- Chihiro thinks he's an irredeemable monster and is rushing down the path to hell. So maybe the rushed pacing of chapter 60 was intentional after all? As in Chihiro won't give himself a break so we don't get one either. I don't want to assume too much but I'll keep that in mind as we get closer to his breaking point. How he collapses and why will be very important. As will be the people who help him recover.

Chihiro looks fucking tired man. The new scars and extra thick sketchy lines under his eyes even when he's being a badass give me the impression that he's pushing himself too hard. The only other character consistently having the tired look right now is Rou and I'm willing to bet that it's done to give him a slightly more mature look to remind us of his true age- he's had them ever since he was woken up from his nap in ch. 55. I swear to God, if Hokazono-sensei has Chihiro buckle and shatter because he won't let himself rest, I will forgive absolutely everything about Chapter 60 onward and never doubt him again. Well, almost everything.

I'm not just saying this to cope. I went back through the whole story to check Chihiro's expressions up to chapter 62 and there's a pretty clear trend. Apologies for the huge cluttered images, probably should have made these on my smaller monitor.

Chapter appearances: 18 Examples: 18

Chapter appearances: 25 Examples: 22 (not present in ch. 35) I will mention Hakuri in every post one way or another.

Chapter appearances: 14 Examples: 41 (not present in chs. 55 & 56)

Basically: Chihiro is the most exhausted and emotional he's ever been in the shortest amount of chapters (even accounting for the lines under most character's eyes getting thicker starting around chapter 47). So yeah, he's tired as fuck and absolutely should not have been so gung-ho to do a rescue mission.

The real give-away is the end of Chapter 60:

Zoom in on the second to last page: he tired and burdened AF bro

Squad roll out on the last page: cool, calm, collected

Extreme zoom-in shots to character's eyes are how a mangaka draws attention to how the character's truly feeling without having them say anything out loud. Doing this to show Chihiro is exhausted before zooming back out to have him looking like his usual self reads as him burying that tiredness to get things done with the others. He is focused and ready to do whatever's necessary to protect Iori- but Rou knows how he's really feeling and called him out which is why we suddenly see all those panels of Chihiro looking as wiped out as he feels this chapter.

Like so.

Chihiro's exhausted but won't give himself a break. And this chapter's making a point of that, because now Chihiro's at the point where even shots of him being a badass have that tired look. He's going to break from pushing himself this hard sooner rather than later or I'm sixty toads in a wooden onesie. (Surely I won't regret making this assertion...)

I haven't forgotten about this flag from Chapter 1.

I feel like a colossal idiot for needing this to be pointed out to me, but I'll admit I'm dumb. At least I took the closer look I should have been doing all along for this post- better late than never and all that.

Rokuhira Chihiro: Forever Badass

Always the coolest guy in a 3781.2km radius

Yeah, Chihiro absolutely reminded us why he's the MC this chapter despite not having as much screen time as Sumi and the Hishaku. He's just that awesome- Hokazono absolutely nails every entrance this guy makes.

Shame the general public doesn't seem to agree.

Not so above it all (but we knew this)

Nice to see that people being frightened and thinking he's a mass-murderer still gets to Chihiro a little. It won't stop him from pursuing his goals, but he is absolutely not above caring about how he's perceived. Maybe fighting against the guy who broke through the window and threatened to kill defenseless students will help some people change their minds?

Iori's definitely going to have to take some time to reconcile her dismal first impression of Chihiro with who he actually is. I'm actually looking forward to how that plays out- Chihiro probably won't go out of his way to convince her he's a nice guy, so we'll get to see her evaluation of him evolve as they spend time together. Hopefully. Maybe. I can only rarely guess what's going to happen next in this manga and I'm not at all confident we'll get significant time devoted to developing the relationship between Chihiro and Iori. I'd like to see it though. Hakuri is the best character from anything ever, but Chihiro would benefit from getting to know more people his age- especially ones that have been able to lead a relatively normal life. She can bring a fresh viewpoint to this series that's so far mostly been limited to traumatized action hero types.

Kuguri Impressions

This guy is a piece of work. Definitely obsessed with "slicing" to an unhealthy degree.

Talking through fighting, that time-old tradition.

Taking a page from his... inspiration? Mentor? Whatever? Sojo, he wants to "talk" with Chihiro in a high-octane way. Sure let's go, love the fights and the spread of them engaging each other this chapter was epic! There's an interesting line from him that caught my attention, though.

The vibes are "these guys should have just let me kill them, now look at this mess."

We're reminded on the same page that "The Hishaku have no qualms about involving innocent bystanders." And this seems to hold true for Kuguri- he killed an unarmed teacher in cold blood, sliced up a bus full of people, was ready to kill students, so on and so forth. He's not a good guy. But talking about how more lives need to be sacrificed now snagged at me- it's a total 180 from Hiruhiko's joyful bloodbath approach.

He strikes me as the type of person who takes the shortest path to everything in life and killing is just a tool he can use to achieve that. He might actually be closer to Chihiro in that he doesn't really enjoy committing murder but views it as necessary. Just in way too many circumstances and with way less morality involved than our protagonist- again, Kuguri is absolutely 100% a bad guy who will deserve whatever death is coming to him. You don't have to murder your way through unarmed civilians to reach a defenseless target.

I'm a lot more interested in seeing more of him now to find out what he's really like and what makes him tick. I especially want to see him clash and contrast with Chihiro. Our poor protagonist is getting challenged on way more fronts than ever before, and in way finer detail, but I know he's up to it. At least for now...

Miscellaneous Thoughts

"This is a surprise tool that will help us later."

I will absolutely accuse people who ask "is Chihiro using Enten?!" or "where did Chihiro get the sword from?!" of speedreading. Yes, it's very silly that the motorcycle that appeared from a magic ink scroll had a katana built in to it. We're definitely not meant to think hard about the how and why of that- it's there because Chihiro needs a proper weapon to fight with while he can't use his magic fish nuke. Hopefully it's existence isn't on a timer or something.

It will be interesting to see how he fares with a regular weapon against a guy who can cut a bus in half with his own mundane katana. How good are Chihiro's basics, really? How much did he manage to pick up from Samura and others before he started to train with Enten's powers? We're probably about to find out!

Please don't let this raise a flag for the Masumi.

These front shots always look so damn cool. Chihiro is the kind of protagonist those edgy wish-fulfillment series wish they had. If Hakuri didn't exist he'd definitely be my favourite character, no contest. Pretty rare for a shounen series honestly! He might even win an official popularity poll if/when Kagurabachi gets one! Usually that honour goes to the deuteragonist or characters with wide appeal like Gojo while the MC is in second or third. Maybe. I want to collect the data on this but I've already got a ton of other half-finished things I'm working on, so maybe that'll wait until a poll is actually announced.

A lot of shounen MCs are good guys with a lot to learn and Chihiro's not much different in that regard. But all the little details about Chihiro add up to make him the first WSJ protagonist I've been sincerely attached to in eons. ...I'll get around to finishing that "why Chihiro is a uniquely compelling protagonist" write-up one of these days.

Hooray for magic skirts that ignore physics

Not much to say here other than I'm really happy for the yuri fans. They finally have "shippable" girls interacting with each other in Kagurabachi. And an innocent-yet-brave girl is clinging to a cool, deadly beauty for safety no less- that's really potent stuff. Let the lilies bloom!

Okay, dear void. We have one more break for brain rot before resuming a normal weekly schedule on the 19th. Great time to re-read the series for the five millionth time, wouldn't you agree? Yes? Wonderful! See you in two weeks or so if I don't finish up something that's gathering dust in the drafts before then. Take care of yourself and may 2025 be your best year yet.

#kagurabachi #I miss Hakuri #We can cross off the Akira motorcycle slide from the list of Cool References to Make #I hate reading manga on my phone so much. How do people tolerate the tiny screens and spreads getting cut in half?!#Feels like it's harder to think lately but maybe I'm just getting used to new brain chemistry

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queercoshon · 1 month ago

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Thanks to a comment on my post, I think I'll release the parts as I write them on Tumblr, but post it all at once on deviantart once I'm done. Here's the first candle of advent;P

Pity Party

Holiday season. Christmas, once again, and once again, you were alone.

Every year before you had worked retail, so you couldn't take time to fly back to your family. This year you had a real desk job that had 2 weeks break over the holidays! When you called your mom to coordinate Christmas, she informed you they assumed you couldn't make it, and booked a sold out (and let's be real, too expensive for you) cruise that was non-refundable. But you'll do something with them next year, okay?

That sucked, but at least you had your partner. Until two days ago. They had decided you were getting too fat, even though you had met on Feabie. You know, to get fat. They actively worked to make you this fat. You had noticed they started pulling away after you said you couldn't shop for clothes in normal retail stores anymore, they just didn't have your sizes. That fucker only wanted your fat body for sexual pleasure, but was ashamed to be seen with you.

You lost 190lbs of dead weight that day, but felt a different kind of heaviness on your chest.

So, completely alone, and with office job money to spend, you decided to let loose for the few days over Christmas. You had enough weed and booze for a college house party, and a list of all restaurants that were delivering on Christmas. You also stocked the freezer with easy meals like pizza and lasagne, and horded snacks for when you just got peckish.

Eve of Christmas Eve

You dropped the last of your snacks within arms' reach in the living room and checked the wait time on your delivery. 20 minutes. You crack open a beer and drink deeply, carbonation fizzling in your gut. The malty taste starts to trigger something in you, and after a quick pause to burp, you quickly chug down the rest. The feeling of beer bloating up your big empty stomach before a night of binging always got you going. And this was going to be more than just a night of binging.

Your joint rolling has gotten better, but the condensation from the second beer can on your fingers makes it harder. Finally the edge is sealed and you can light up. Your personal blend of death star and girl scout cookies has an herbal but sweet tinge to it, and it fills your lungs and quickly clouds your brain. The second beer certainly helps with that.

Your food arrives, and you're feeling good. So what it takes you extra effort to haul your ass off the couch to get to the door? So what you haven't been able to do up your pants at all for the past week? So what if you had gotten too fat for your feeder, someone who said they got off to this? You would get off to this, but that would be a long time from now.

Tonight is an order from a pizza place. There's an extra large pizza, a full order of loaded cheesy bread, a double order of cauliflower bites, and it looks like they sent two lava cakes even though you only ordered one.

After getting settled back on your worn couch, you choose your mindless tv. Now the high is taking over, and you just want the comfort of a dumb Christmas movie. You quickly choose and then turn to your feast.

Beer and pizza is one of your favourite combos. The greasy slices pair perfectly with the calorie-filled alcohol. The alcohol fuels your haze which just makes you want more.

You let your brain turn off entirely and get to work. After a few swigs that empty half of beer number three, you stack two pieces together and dig in. You found you can trick your brain into thinking you've eaten less than you actually have this way. You can also eat faster, which means you can shovel more in before your gut starts to signal how full you are.

Your gluttonous trance takes over, and you mindlessly glut out on your pizza, pausing to take another drink, drag, or bite of cheesybread or cauliflower. Your pizza sandwich technique means you eat half the pizza in 15 minutes, along with a quarter of the cheesy bread, and you're well into beer number four. You don't feel full yet, but you do feel heavy. All of that food sits in your belly, and your belly sits on your plush thighs, slowly pushing your knees apart.

As you get higher, you're reduced to your desires and your pleasures. You get distracted by the flashy family comedy, your laughs interrupted by surprised boozy pizza belches. You rub your gut, pudgy fingers sinking into your inches of flab. The flavours of everything explode on your tongue, and you just need more. Every bite is nearly orgasmic and not so slowly, but surely, your gut stretches to accommodate your massive meal. Your upper belly juts out, soon sticking out past your flabby chest and fat-laden lower belly. Gurgles and churns echo louder than your tv, more and more sloppy belches falling from your mouth. At some point your shirt comes off to give you easier access to your belly, and so you rub and jostle it, trying to ease the aching organ while also getting riled up.

You slow your frantic gorging, instead slowly snacking on everything, switching up flavours to trick yourself into eating more. Forty-five minutes later all that remains is two pieces of cheesy bread, five cauliflower bites, and one piece of pizza. The last bite of lava cake feels like cement in your mouth, but you swallow it down and chase it with another swig of beer. You feel your skin stretch with every gulp, the itching sending shivers up your spine. Once beer number 6 is empty your hand just lets go, and the can falls down your body into the pile of cans and pizza boxes from tonight, leaving a trail of sticky booze down your belly.

Your head falls back and you pant through the burps and moans. You don't remember the last time you were this stuffed. Every breath feels like a gamble, your stomach actually creaking with every movement.

You wish they were here, your feeder. Well, ex-feeder. They would have lit the bong for you, rubbed your gut as you faded in and out of conciousness, and then started stuffing you once they thought you had room.

Fuck them, I can do this myself. You were too fat for them now? You were just getting started.

You grab the bong from the seat beside you and lit up. You take a few more shallow hits, your lungs just out of room to expand for a deep inhale. After a few minutes the more intense aches ease and your eyes get heavy, but you are determined to stay awake. At the very least, you're going to finish the pizza and cheesy bread.

There are more beers on the coffee table, but you physically cannot lean forward to get them. You're completely pinned down by the mass in your gut, compounding on your rapidly climbing weight that your body hadn't gotten used to yet. 112lbs in one year was a lot to take on. So you'll have to finish this dry. Not that you weren't fucking trashed by now, but having a sip between items usually helped.

The first piece of cheesybread goes down quickly, your last hit somehow spurring the munchies again, despite your current state. Your stomach starts to protest though, and the last piece is completed by little nibbles. A dangerous burp works its way up so you take another break, trying to gingerly massage your belly. Everything is swimming, and your arm feels like its being controlled by a puppet string, uncoordinated and foreign. You feel your stomach move under your hand as if a baby is kicking, but it's just the absurd amount of food and booze you've forced inside your body, churning away.

You casually eat the cauliflower bites, trying to focus on the end of the movie rather than your body fighting back against every swallow. You can barely understand what's being said on the tv, your pulse in your ears and in your crotch, and yet new levels of intoxication washing over you. You try to grab the last piece of pizza to get this over with, but your marionette arm just won't cooperate. You miss the slice twice entirely, your swaying vision making coordination incredibly hard. The third time you grab it awkwardly, hand half on the crust and half in the sauce, but you call this a success and bring it to your slack jaw.

Every bite feels like you have to remember how to chew, jaw sore, gut viscerally protesting, weed and booze zapping all of your focus, every part of your body is working against you.

Finally, bite after agonizing bite, the credits roll, and the entire pizza is gone. Everything is gone, into your overtaxed stomach. You can only moan now, too stuffed, high, and drunk to form a coherent thought. You rest your hads on top of your shelf of a gut, unable to figure out how to make your arms move to rub your belly without jostling it. Every breath sends another flash of cramps over your middle, your lungs just putting that much extra pressure on your abused organ. Fuck, you've really overdone it now. There is no way you could move even if your life depended on it.

Day one of Christmas Binge: Success.

#queer feedism #intox kink #intox feedee #stuffed fatty #feedism story #intox wg #stuffing literature #stuffing story #drunk stuffing #feedist #queer feedist #feedee belly #feed me #stuffing burps #stuffing wg

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