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prettylilyanime · 4 months ago

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Our Blessing ♡ Chapter 02

♡ Pairing: Toji Zenin x reader

♡ Synopsis: in which your ex boyfriend left you with your biggest blessing in life, or- a bundle of a blessing. And he doesn’t even know it.

♡ tags/warnings: 18+, (explicit content in later chapters) angst, and drama, exes to lovers, hidden baby trope, Toji is an asshole (but we love him), Reader just wants to raise Megumi in peace, CEO Toji, possessive Toji, emotionally constipated Toji, Tension, misunderstandings, Flashbacks to past relationship, Heavy themes of abandonment, trust issues, and redemption, baby Megumi is a cutie, Megumi is a mama’s boy, reader works at a flower shop, Hidden Baby Trope

♡ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

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The bar reeked of one thing. Not alcohol, not drugs—opulence.

Perched atop one of Japan’s tallest skyscrapers, Horizon was the kind of place where power and money spoke louder than words.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Tokyo skyline, the glittering city stretching endlessly below, lights shimmering like constellations against the inky night. Inside, the atmosphere was a curated blend of wealth and exclusivity—dim mood lighting casting sleek shadows across black marble floors, deep leather seating arranged for whispered conversations, and servers in sharp-cut suits, trained to serve without being seen.

It was the first Saturday of the month. A tradition, unshaken even after college, no matter how busy their lives became.

At a private table, in a section roped off for only the highest clientele, sat a group of men whose names carried weight across the country. Japan’s most powerful, most untouchable, and most eligible bachelors.

Gojo Satoru, heir to a real estate empire of old money and power, his presence as blinding as the white hair atop his head. Geto Suguru, ever calm, ever composed, the sharp mind behind tech industries that would take most men lifetimes to control. Ryomen Sukuna, the wildcard, draped in arrogance, his wealth tied to underground dealings no one dared question.

Born into one of Japan’s most powerful families, Toji wasn’t just wealthy—he was the Zenin heir.

When his father died, leaving behind a fortune vast enough to sustain generations, Toji didn’t just sit back and preserve it.

He tripled it.

Through ruthless business ventures, high-stakes investments, and an instinct sharper than any financial advisor’s best predictions, he transformed the Zenin name into something more than just old money. It was new dominance.

A force that dictated markets, bought influence, and ensured that the name Zenin wasn’t just spoken with respect, but with caution.

The scent of aged whiskey and smoldering cigars curled through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. The four of them sat back in their private booth, drinks in hand, Tokyo glittering beneath them like a chessboard waiting to be played.

"Suguru, what's got your ass all twisted up? You've been off lately," Satoru drawled, nudging his best friend with a teasing elbow—an oddly childish gesture in a setting so drenched in wealth.

Sukuna snorted, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a slow sip. "Can’t believe I’m saying this, but the idiot’s right. You’ve been acting weird as fuck lately, man."

Satoru turned to fire back, lips already curling into a smirk, but paused when Suguru let out a deep sigh.

They weren’t wrong. He had been acting off.

And why?

His sharp, cat-like eyes flickered toward one of his oldest friends—Toji of all fucking people—and instantly, like a ghost haunting the back of his mind, he saw it again.

That kid.

The pint-sized version of Toji he had spotted weeks ago, sitting by your side eating pizza.

He was adorable, with big green eyes and dark hair that spiked upwards. He was also hauntingly enough, a replica of his dear friend sat across from him.

It gnawed at him.

How the hell was he supposed to sit here, sipping whiskey and smoking his cigar, pretending everything was normal, when Toji had a whole damn child he didn’t even know about?

With the love of his life, at that.

The secret sat like a stone in his gut, pressing heavier with each second. But still, Suguru brought his cigar to his lips, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly through his nose.

"Don't know what you guys are talking about," he muttered, voice smooth but empty.

Because fuck.

This wasn’t his business to tell.

Suguru forced the thought down, drowning it in another slow drag of his cigar.

Satoru, ever the gossip, rolled his eyes, swirling the amber liquid in his glass as he shifted in his seat. “Boring, Suguru. Well, since he’s not opening up, I might as well. Guys, you won’t believe what happened to me today.”

He leaned in slightly, the dim overhead lighting catching on the rims of his sunglasses as he peered at them all, clearly waiting for someone to bite.

Toji raised a brow, finally breaking his silence. “What, lost a bar of that shitty candy you inhale every day on your lunch break?” He snorted, lips curling.

Satoru waved him off, unfazed—and unwilling to admit that, yes, that had indeed happened earlier.

“Fuck you, Toji. No, I had an old hookup show up at my office today, screaming at my intern like a lunatic, claiming that I—”

Toji cut him off with a sharp grin, already amused. “Don’t tell me you knocked a one-night stand up.”

“I’ll have you know, she wasn’t a one-night stand.” Satoru placed a hand over his chest, feigning deep offense. “We met in Ibiza, and we had a magical week together!"

“That’s just a fucking nightmare,” Sukuna scoffed, tipping his glass back. “You, of all people, with a kid?”

“Oh come on, I’d be great! My kid would be gorgeous,” Satoru declared, ever confident. Suguru feels himself turning green with where this conversation was headed.

“Gorgeous with a mouth full of cavities, I bet,” Toji drawled, taking a slow sip of his drink.

“Nothing a great dentist can’t fix,” Gojo quipped, brushing it off like it was nothing. “Anyways, not the point of the story. She’s getting rid of it tomorrow—I had my lawyer draft up an NDA, so it’ll all be fine.”

Sukuna shook his head, amusement curling at the edges of his smirk. “F’course it’d be you out of all of us to have the first pregnancy scare.”

Satoru furrowed his white brows. “Is that a joke? Toji is sitting right next to you, y’know.”

Suguru could throw up right here, right now, all over this table and it still wouldn't be enough to make him feel any better.

Toji arched a brow, unimpressed. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I’m not out here sleeping around like you.”

Satoru grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Well, no, but you were in a relationship for what—six years? And Y/N let me in on your little distaste for condoms, you know. I’m shocked nothing came out of that.”

Sukuna let out a low whistle, nudging Toji’s side. “Yeah, got you there, brother.”

Suguru took a slow, deep breath, staring at the swirling whiskey in his glass.

The conversation was pressing in on him, each word adding weight to the already unbearable tension in his chest. He couldn't do this. If he just stood up and walked out, would it be too obvious?

Toji rolled his green eyes, exhaling through his nose. “I didn’t meet Y/N and start fucking her raw after a week in Ibiza, Satoru. I was with her for six years. Sue me.”

Satoru backed off with his hands raised in mock surrender, a grin still tugging at his lips. “Relax, relax. Speaking of Y/N, I could’ve sworn I saw her the other day at that pizza place we used to go to. Did you see her too, Suguru?”

The shift in conversation hit Suguru like a freight train. His entire body tensed, but he forced himself to keep his expression steady.

He hadn't spoken to Satoru about seeing you and the kid, never even mentioned it.

Toji’s brow quirked up, green eyes flicking toward Geto with sudden interest. The curiosity in them was undeniable.

Suguru’s grip on his cigar tightened. Think. Quickly.

“Y/N?” He scoffed, shaking his head as he brought the cigar to his lips, inhaling deeply.

When he exhaled, he kept his voice smooth, controlled. “I remember the woman you’re talking about but it wasn’t her. Just someone who looked like her.”

Satoru hummed, none the wiser. “Yeah, makes sense. That lady had a kid with her, too. Y/N never even had family or friends like that to be babysitting for.”

Suguru’s fingers curled tighter around his glass. He took another slow drag of his cigar, the smoke curling up toward the dim overhead lights, masking the flicker of unease in his gaze.

“Yeah,” he muttered, voice low. “No way it was her.”

He took another sip of whiskey, but the burn in his throat was nothing compared to the storm brewing in his chest as bright green eyes lingered on him.

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Autumn has settled in fully now, painting the world in warm hues of amber, crimson, and gold.

Leaves crunch underfoot as the wind carries them in lazy spirals along the paved sidewalks. The mornings have grown brisk, the kind that nip at your nose and fingertips, making you pull Megumi’s little coat tighter around him before sending him off to school.

His scarf, a deep navy blue, is carefully wrapped around his neck, though he always tugs at it halfway through the day, complaining that it’s too warm.

He’s been thriving at school, and that alone fills you with a relief so deep it’s almost dizzying!

You worried about him, afraid that his quiet and blunt nature might leave him isolated, unsure of how to make friends. But those fears were put to rest the moment he came home and started talking—really talking—about a boy in his class.

A boy named Yuuji.

Apparently, Yuuji was assigned the seat next to him, and from that moment on, there was no escaping the whirlwind of energy that was his new best friend.

Every day, Megumi would come home with some new story, some ridiculous antic Yuuji had pulled.

And even though this boy you hadn’t met yet seemed like the complete opposite of Megumi—rambunctious, loud, endlessly excitable—you couldn’t be more grateful for his presence.

You had even found yourself smiling, shaking your head in amusement, when Megumi’s teacher gently informed you during a parent-teacher meeting that he had been talking a bit too much in class lately.

Talking too much.

You nearly laughed in disbelief. Your Megumi?

You didn’t mind. Not one bit. Because you were just so glad to hear that Megumi wasn't struggling at all in class, instead thriving academically and socially!

Which is why today is so important.

A playdate.

The next step in any childhood friendship, and truthfully, you’re just as excited as Megumi.

He deserves this—deserves to have a friend he can run around with, someone who makes him laugh, someone his own age to share his days with.

Life can feel a little quiet when it’s just the two of you, and though Megumi has never complained, you’re sure he’s been longing for a companion outside of home.

The plan is simple. You coordinated with Yuuji’s father, Jin, since—according to the kindergarten gossip you’ve managed to gather from Megumi—his mom isn’t in the picture.

You don’t pry, but there’s a quiet understanding in the back of your mind.

First, you’ll meet them at the park, where the boys can run wild, burning through their seemingly endless energy.

Then, once they’ve had their fill of play, you’ll all sit down for lunch at a nearby restaurant, letting them refuel before no doubt finding some new way to tire themselves out again.

The walk to the park is peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over the quiet streets.

The crisp autumn air carries the scent of fallen leaves, dry and earthy, while a gentle breeze rustles through the trees, shaking loose vibrant reds and oranges that drift lazily to the pavement.

Megumi walks beside you, his small hand warm in yours, but his steps begin to slow. You feel the slight tug on your arm before you hear his voice.

"Mama," he mumbles, rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand. "Carry me."

You glance down at him with an amused huff, already anticipating this. "Oh, honey, I don't know if my arms are strong enough anymore."

A darker thought crosses your mind. Toji could probably still carry him like it's nothing, like he's nothing more than a newborn.

You haven't seen the man in years, but if his physique was anything like it was back then—

You push the thought away just as quickly as it comes.

"Please?" Megumi's voice is softer this time, and when you glance down again, he's pouting, shifting on his feet like he already knows you’ll cave.

And how could you say no? Sore arms be damned—this is your baby! One day, far too soon, he’ll stop asking.

You crouch down, letting him wrap his arms around your neck before lifting him with a quiet grunt.

He’s heavier than before, all gangly limbs and growing boy, but he sighs contentedly as he rests his head on your shoulder, his breath warm against your collarbone. You press a soft kiss to his dark hair, letting him nuzzle into your neck.

He won’t fit in your arms like this forever.

The thought lingers, settling into your chest with an ache. Soon, he’ll be too big to carry, too old to want you to. The weight of time feels heavier than the boy in your arms.

Your mind drifts to the slip of paper tucked away in your apartment. Toji’s phone number.

A part of you wonders if you’re wrong for not reaching out now that you can reach him. If you’re selfish for keeping Megumi to yourself. For letting Toji miss this—his son, growing up.

Megumi shifts slightly, pulling you from your thoughts. His small fingers toy with the pendant on your necklace—the little letter ‘M’ you got just for him.

You shake your head, pushing away the what-ifs. Today is about Megumi. About his happiness.

A sudden vibration against your hip snaps you back to the present. You shift Megumi in your arms to free one hand, retrieving your phone from your pocket.

Jin, Yuuji’s father: Hello Y/N! Something came up at work, so I wasn’t able to take Yuuji today, but my younger brother will instead. They’ve already left the house and will be there soon! Sorry for the short notice.

You type out a quick confirmation before tucking your phone away.

Megumi lifts his head slightly. "Are they here yet?"

"Not yet," you say, adjusting your hold on him. "But they should be soon."

His fingers absently trace over the smooth metal of your pendant before he hums in acknowledgment.

By the time you reach the park, the sun has dipped lower, casting long, dappled shadows across the playground. The cool breeze rustles through the empty swings, and the laughter of distant children fills the air.

You find an empty bench and sit, keeping Megumi settled in your lap a little longer, just because you can.

"Megumi!" He lifts his head, suddenly alert, his green eyes scanning the park.

The excited, high-pitched call is accompanied by the sound of small, eager footsteps. You barely get a glimpse before Megumi squirms out of your arms, landing on his feet with practiced ease. He straightens his posture, stuffing his hands into his pockets, trying to play it cool.

You turn toward the voice, and your heart melts at the sight.

Yuuji is absolutely adorable—fluffy pink hair, big brown eyes, a little shorter than Megumi, with the widest grin stretching across his face as he runs over. His joy is infectious, beaming like the sun itself.

But something about him feels… familiar.

Your eyes linger on the soft pink of his hair. It isn’t exactly a common color. And the longer you look at him, the stronger the unsettling familiarity grows.

No. There’s no way.

The thought barely has time to form before a deep, unmistakable voice cuts through your daze.

"Yuuji! Don't go running off without me, you brat."

Your breath catches.

No. Absolutely not.

Your blood runs cold as you turn toward the source, eyes widening, stomach plummeting.

There, towering over the playground with all his tattoos and his unmistakable aura of arrogance, is Ryomen Sukuna of all people.

You feel like the universe is playing some kind of twisted joke on you.

Big. Tall. Tattooed. Another one of Toji’s old friends.

And judging by the way he ruffles Yuuji’s hair—his nephew’s hair—he’s the younger brother Jin mentioned in his text.

Sukuna hasn’t even noticed you yet, too preoccupied with the excitable little boy bouncing in front of him. Yuuji beams up at you. "Wow, Megumi, your mom is really pretty!"

Megumi’s entire body tenses beside you. He steps closer, crossing his arms, his expression darkening.

"I know." he mutters, his glare sharp enough to cut through stone.

You snort, reaching out to rub his back. He huffs but doesn’t pull away, though you can feel the heat radiating off him. His protective streak never fails to amuse you.

The moment cuts through the tension in your chest, but only briefly. Because then you feel it—that unmistakable sensation of being watched.

"Megumi, let’s go play! I’ve been waiting forever! My uncle walks so slow," Yuuji exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his bright grin shining under the afternoon sun.

He’s adorable—so full of energy and joy that it makes you want to freeze this moment in time. Your son, on his first real playdate, with a friend who already seems so eager to be by his side.

But you can’t enjoy it. Because standing just a few feet away, arms crossed, towering like a living nightmare, is Ryomen Sukuna.

Of all people.

You blink, trying to process the absurdity of it. How the hell did this happen? What are the odds? What cruel joke is the universe playing on you?

Then, you decide—fuck it.

You’re not going to let Toji who's not even here, his idiot friends, or any other lingering ghosts from your past ruin this for you. This is Megumi’s moment. His first real friend.

You whip out your phone, ignoring Sukuna’s heavy stare as you crouch down slightly. "Alright, boys, stand together and smile!"

Megumi doesn’t really get the smiling part, settling for a neutral stare, while Yuuji doesn’t quite grasp the standing still part, fidgeting excitedly in place. It’s imperfect but perfect all the same, and you snap the pictures, your heart swelling at the sight of them together.

"Alright, go play, but make sure I can see you," you call out.

The second they take off running, your smile drops. You turn to Sukuna, a deep sigh escaping you. He stares right back at you, eyes running up and down your body as if trying to confirm that it is indeed you in front of him.

"Y/N, what the fuck?" Sukuna blurts out, disbelief etched across his face. His eyebrows practically hit his hairline as his sharp gaze flickers between you and Megumi who at this point, was climbing up the stairs to the slide.

Gosh, couldn't even start with a hey, how have you been?

You roll your eyes, already exhausted by this encounter. Seeing Suguru and Satoru was traumatizing enough. This? This is just the cherry on top.

"Ryomen, trust me—I’m feeling the same way. God what are the odds?" You inhale sharply through your nose, leveling Sukuna with a flat stare. His mouth curls into something between a smirk and genuine disbelief, arms folding across his broad chest as he waits for your response.

"Going out on a limb here," Sukuna drawls, tilting his head toward the direction Megumi ran off, "but is the little squirt Toji's?"

Your fingers tighten slightly around your phone. You knew the question was coming—it was inevitable the second he laid eyes on Megumi. The resemblance was too obvious.

Still, hearing it out loud makes something twist deep in your stomach.

"Don't call him that," you say coolly, arching a brow. "And what if he is?"

Sukuna lets out a sharp, amused breath, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. "Shit." His gaze flickers to Megumi in the distance, then back to you, something razor-sharp glinting in his expression. "Does Toji even know? There’s no way he does—he never mentioned it. Not once."

Your jaw tightens. You don’t answer right away.

Instead, you focus on Megumi, watching as he follows Yuuji up the jungle gym. His usual serious expression softens—just slightly—when the younger boy tugs at his sleeve, babbling excitedly about something.

Sukuna doesn’t need a verbal response. Your silence tells him everything.

"This is crazy," he breathes, his grin widening, teeth flashing like the devil himself. "You didn’t tell him?"

You exhale through your nose, resisting the urge to rub your temples. "It’s none of your business, Ryomen."

He lets out a low whistle, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "Damn. That’s cold. And coming from you? Toji would never believe it."

Your scowl deepens. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Not about the kid," he clarifies, rolling his shoulders. "I mean, shit, we were literally talking about this last night. But you keeping this from him? He always thought you were harmless."

Something flickers across his face—amusement, sure, but also intrigue, like he’s trying to piece together how the hell this slipped past him. Past Toji.

"You gonna tell him?" Sukuna asks after a beat, gaze sharp, assessing.

Your stomach twists. The question has been haunting you ever since Suguru stepped into your shop weeks ago.

For years, you made peace with the fact that Toji would never know. That there was no way to reach him. That no matter how much it hurt, he had to be let go since Megumi always came first.

You had spent years stretching yourself thin—between your job, chasing after Toji, and most importantly, being a new mother. Something had to give. And bitterly enough, that something was Toji.

Now, after all this time, you have his number. Full access to him.

And you haven’t dialed it once, because something else is holding you back now.

Fear.

You glance back at the two boys, now racing toward the swings, their laughter ringing through the crisp evening air.

"Like I said," you mutter, voice quieter now. "None of your business."

Sukuna clicks his tongue, rocking back on his heels. "Alright, alright, I get it." He exhales, like shaking off the conversation. Then, with a pointed smirk, he adds, "But if you think he won’t find out eventually, you’re dumber than I remember."

Your eyes narrow. "You're not gonna tell him?"

He raises a brow, almost offended. "Why would I? It’s not my business to tell."

You scoff. "Oh please. He's your best friend."

Sukuna just grins, slow and knowing. "Yeah? And maybe I’m being a good friend by keeping quiet." He rubs his chin, tilting his head like he’s savoring the moment. "Wouldn’t wanna tell Toji that his favorite girl’s been keeping something like this from him all these years."

Your breath catches.

There’s something about his tone—something not quite mocking. Not quite amused. Something almost... pitying.

It makes your stomach churn.

Before you can press further, Yuuji’s excited voice slices through the tension like a blade.

"Uncle Sukuna! Push me!"

Sukuna’s gaze lingers on you for a beat longer, unreadable, before he turns away. "Saved by the brat," he teases, already striding toward the swings.

You exhale slowly, rubbing a hand over your face.

Of all people, it had to be Sukuna.

And now, whether you like it or not—one more person knows your secret.

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Lunch is… weird.

The kids, thankfully, are oblivious to the tension radiating off you in waves, too engrossed in their own little world to notice. Well, Yuuji chatters—Megumi mostly listens, nodding at appropriate intervals, his expression neutral but not disinterested.

Still, you have a feeling Megumi senses something is off.

He refuses to sit anywhere but next to you, his small frame pressed against your side, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of your jacket. It’s a quiet, grounding presence, but it does nothing to settle the storm in your chest.

Across the table, Sukuna is insufferably at ease.

He lounges like this is a casual dinner between friends rather than a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t press, but his amusement is palpable.

You can feel it in the lazy way he drums his fingers against the table, the way his lips curl at the edges, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like he’s waiting—just waiting—for you to crack and curse him out.

You refuse to look at him.

Instead, you focus on the kids. Yuuji is deep in a monologue about a video game he’s been begging his dad to buy, talking between massive bites of a burger that looks almost too big for him.

Megumi, as always, listens quietly, picking at his chicken tenders, offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment.

And you? You’re barely holding it together.

Your food sits untouched, stomach twisted too tight to even pretend to eat. You’ve tried to play it cool in front of Sukuna, to act like you’re unaffected by the weight of this secret, but the truth is, you’re terrified.

Toji’s circle has always been small. Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna—his only real friends. The ones who had earned a place in that impenetrable fortress of trust.

And now, two out of three of them know about Megumi.

But Toji doesn’t.

And that thought alone is enough to make you want to curl into yourself and disappear.

You grip your utensils tighter, swallowing around the lump in your throat, barely registering the sound of laughter and clinking dishes around you.

There should be guilt buried somewhere in the mess of emotions clawing at your insides, but all you really feel is sheer, bone-deep anxiety.

Megumi, at least, has finally started actually eating, nibbling on a chicken tender while sipping a kid-sized soda. Yuuji, on the other hand, is still in a battle with his burger—one that’s about the size of his entire face.

Then, in the way only a child can, Yuuji shatters your already fragile nerves with a single, innocent comment.

"You don’t look anything like your mom, Megumi! You must look like your dad. I look just like mine!"

Your stomach plummets.

You freeze, fork clattering against your plate, pulse spiking so hard you swear your vision tunnels for a second. The world tilts, the restaurant noise fading into a muffled blur, your brain scrambling desperately to think of how to steer the conversation anywhere else before—

“Yeah, I guess.”

Megumi says it so nonchalantly, so effortlessly, that for a second, you think you imagined it.

Your head snaps toward him. He’s still calmly eating, tearing off a piece of chicken tender, unbothered, as if Yuuji hadn’t just dropped a grenade in the middle of dinner.

He… doesn’t care?

You feel like you’re about to combust, but Megumi—Megumi, who never talks about his father, who has never once asked, who you’ve spent years bracing yourself for questions from—just shrugs it off like it’s nothing.

You don’t know if you’re relieved or if it somehow makes the situation worse.

And then, because of course, of course, you make the mistake of looking up—

—only to lock eyes with Sukuna, who is watching the entire thing unfold with the most infuriating, knowing grin.

He doesn’t say anything, but the sharp shit eating smile on his stupid face says enough.

You swallow thickly, dragging your gaze away, forcing yourself to take a slow, steady breath. Megumi is fine. He’s not upset. There’s no need to react.

Even though every nerve in your body is screaming otherwise.

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At the gym, the rhythmic clank of metal echoes through the near-empty space, broken only by the occasional grunt of exertion. It’s just past five in the morning—an ungodly hour for most, but perfect for Toji.

No distractions. No waiting around for machines. Just him, the weight of the bar in his hands, and the steady burn in his muscles.

At least, that’s what he wants.

But Sukuna exists.

The sharp clang of the bar hitting the rack cuts through the quiet as Toji exhales, rolling out his shoulders before reaching for his water bottle. That’s when Sukuna, sprawled out on a neighboring machine like he owns the place, decides to run his mouth.

"You ever think about how you have a type?"

Toji pauses mid-sip, eyes narrowing. "Excuse me?"

Sukuna smirks, the kind that makes Toji immediately regret acknowledging him. "That girl you were with last night? She could’ve passed as Y/N’s sister."

The statement is so absurd that Toji almost laughs. Almost. Instead, he lets out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Didn’t do anything with her. Wasn’t with anybody."

"Sure, sure," Sukuna drawls, clearly entertained. "Just crazy how you only let chicks that look like Y/N within a ten-foot radius of you—"

"Sukuna," Toji grits out, reaching for the bar again, "it’s five in the goddamn morning. I’m finishing this rep and then I’m out."

Sukuna snorts but doesn’t push further. He just leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, watching like he knows exactly what he’s done.

Toji ignores him. He doesn’t have a type. That’s bullshit. And it’s not like he’s been chasing after anyone, anyway.

Not since you.

Sure, there were opportunities. A lingering glance, an open invitation, a number slipped into his palm—but none of it ever went anywhere.

He’d tell himself he wasn’t interested, that he didn’t have the patience for it, but deep down, he knew better. Nothing ever felt right. Not after your relationship.

Sukuna’s words settle in his mind, impossible to ignore.

With each rep, his thoughts betray him, dragging up images—snapshots of you. The way your voice used to sharpen when you were annoyed. The way you always had something quick and cutting to say back to him. The way you—

His grip tightens on the bar, jaw clenching.

And then, before he can stop himself, the words slip out—

"Why has everyone been bringing up Y/N lately?"

A pause.

A fraction too long.

Toji doesn’t miss it.

Sukuna covers it up well, tilting his head in mock confusion. "Just a coincidence, man. I dunno."

But Toji knows a bullshit answer when he hears one.

And it’s not just Sukuna.

It’s Suguru, stiff as a board at the bar the other night, suddenly quiet whenever Toji spoke. It’s Satoru, casually dropping that he saw a woman who looked just like you. It’s the little things, insignificant on their own, but when pieced together…

Something doesn’t sit right.

It’s not suspicion. Not yet.

But it lingers, an itch at the back of his mind.

And for the first time in a long time, Toji finds himself thinking about you longer than he should.

⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖°⋆˚♡˖

Back at home, you sit in bed with your pajamas on, scrolling through your phone to try and distract yourself.

The soft glow from your bedside lamp casts a warm, golden hue over the cozy room, the faint scent of lavender lingers in the air from the candle you had blown out earlier, and the plush comforter is pulled up over your lap, cocooning you in warmth.

Behind you, a pile of pillows props you up against the headboard, their familiar softness a small comfort against the weight pressing down on your thoughts.

The room is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of cars passing outside.

Megumi is fast asleep after a long day of running around in the sun with his friend. A warm bubble bath and a home-cooked dinner had knocked him right out, and now he’s curled up in his own little bed, lost in whatever dreams a four-year-old has.

You, on the other hand, can’t sleep. Your heart is still racing, unsettled by the events of today.

You can’t stop replaying the moment Yuuji mentioned Toji—how Megumi had barely reacted. No curiosity, no interest, just a shrug, like the thought of his own father meant nothing to him. And that realization sits heavy in your chest.

Guilt.

Guilt gnaws at you—guilt that Megumi doesn’t even wonder about his father. Guilt that Toji hasn’t given him a reason to.

You exhale, your fingers pressing into your temple, trying to massage away the tension that’s been creeping up your neck all night. Just as you’re about to sink back into the quiet, the faint creak of your bedroom door cuts through the silence, making you glance up.

There, in the doorway, stands Megumi.

His small figure framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, his bright green eyes squinting sleepily as he stumbles toward you, his tiny feet padding softly against the floor.

Without a word, he climbs onto the bed, his movements sluggish and heavy with sleep.

His little body wiggles under the sheets until he's nestled beside you, looking almost comically small against the vast, cushioned expanse of your bed, the covers pooling around him like a blanket fort.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” you ask softly, brushing a hand through his tousled hair, your fingers lingering in the mess of it.

“I wanna sleep in your bed, Mama,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible, thick with sleep as he curls himself into the pillow, his small hands gripping it tightly. His face, so peaceful and innocent, presses into the soft fabric, making him look even cuter than he already is.

You can’t help but smile, warmth spreading through your chest as he shuffles even closer. The weight of him, the slow rise and fall of his breaths, lulls you into a sense of peace. Maybe now you can finally relax, let go of the thoughts spinning in your head.

But then, just as you start to relax, his small, unsteady voice breaks the calm.

“I think my dad is stupid.”

Your heart stops for a moment, the words hanging in the air like a sudden chill. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and instinctively, you sit up straighter, facing him fully now.

“Megumi?!” you exclaim softly, your eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

“Whoever my dad is, he’s a dummy,” he mumbles, his voice so matter-of-fact that it almost stings.

A rush of emotions floods you—confusion, concern, and something sharper that you can’t quite place.

“Megumi, what’s this all about?” you ask gently, trying to mask the tightness in your chest. “Don’t say such mean things.”

“A kid from class told me that since I don’t live with my dad, it means that he left us,” Megumi says quietly, curling into the pillow a little more, his tiny body pressed against yours. “So I think he’s a dummy.”

You search for the right words, but they feel impossible to find. What can you say? The kid wasn’t entirely wrong. Toji did leave you at least—he just didn’t realize he was walking away from Megumi as well.

You take a deep breath, ready to say something comforting, to try and ease the hurt in his little heart.

You want to tell him that Toji loved him, that even though things were messy, his father cared. But before you can get the words out, you feel the weight of Megumi's head settle further into your pillow. His small breaths are steady, slow, his tiny body already drifting back to sleep.

He murmurs again, barely audible. "Gnight Mama.”

You glance down at him, his eyelids fluttering as he drifts deeper into slumber, his hand still curled loosely around your wrist. You smile softly, a pang of something tender in your chest. It’s moments like this that remind you of how much he needed the quiet, the calm.

You don’t push him. You just let him be, letting the words hang in the space between you two, unsaid.

With a sigh, you reach over and switch off the bedside lamp, the room plunging into the soft embrace of darkness.

The only sound is the soft rustling of sheets as Megumi shuffles closer to you, his small body curling into yours with the kind of comfort only a child can seek. His little face nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

For a moment, you think you might finally find the sleep you’ve been chasing all night. But the stillness in the room only heightens the weight in your chest, the tightness of unanswered questions.

Your thoughts keep drifting to Toji—the way his absence hung between you, even now, even here.

You can’t help but wonder if he ever thought about your failed relationship, if he ever truly understood what he’d left behind. Maybe not just you, but him—Megumi, the child who would never ask for a father but still had a place for one.

You try to push it out of your mind, focusing on the warm weight of Megumi against you, but it lingers.

You close your eyes, but sleep remains just out of reach.

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sumiieon · 5 months ago

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✦ Season of Love

ノ When the flowers started blooming back as the scent of spring slithers back into our body, whereas the season of love has just begun.

♡ What I think the current Chrysos Heirs' love languages are ⸝⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ wc: 957

✦ Note ; beware of spelling mistakes and grammar error due to english not being my first language T_T ⸝⸝ while this writing was meant to be romantic, you can take it however you like! (platonic or romantic.) ⸝⸝ I won't write for Tribbios in this one! ⸝⸝ I apologize if they're ooc because this is my first time writing them

♡ Phainon, The Hero ノ Words of Affirmation ⸝⸝ Acts of Service (Physical Touch might work for him too,,)

For whatever reason it is, I see Phainon as the kind of guy to shower you with compliments that you totally deserve while carrying all the stuff you were struggling to carry with ease. Would always get down on one knee and kiss your knuckles like they're a treasure for him (Like you yourself isn't a treasure he holds dear already), if not that then bridal carries you.

Phainon is protective of you; you could trip and get a scar that is barely a scratch on your being and he would get into a teary-eyed dramatic frenzy panic. You can many times assure him that you are very much okay and he will still worry dead for you.

"Are you okay?! Do you need me to carry you up?! Should we go see a doctor?!?-" "Phainon, it's just a scratch."

Overall a massive head over heels sweetheart that is afraid of losing his loved one and would give his life away to protect you <3

♡ Aglaea, The Weaver ノ Gifts Giving ⸝⸝ Quality Time Okay I know this might not sound like it makes sense, but imagine juuust imagine Aglaea making clothes and/or accessories that reminds her of you and then gifting them to you. She will come across a fabric and then once it reminds her of you, even for the tiniest things ever, she will start sewing and sewing and then boom, an entire set for you just the next day standing at the corner of your room.

Aside from bathing together, Aglaea loves hearing your voice. As a demigod with a duty to protect Okhema, she will obviously be busy and that's no doubt, but she will somehow always leave a room in her busy schedule for you. For you, she will even endure the stupidest of the stupidest questions ever.

"Aglaea, what if the golden blood in the Chrysos Heir's bath is actually piss?" "Yes, My Dear."

You might be an idiot, but you're her idiot <3

♡ Mydeimos, The Undying ノ Acts of Service ⸝⸝ Gifts Giving It's no doubt that the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos prefers to let his actions speak for him because words have failed him multiple times already. While he may not verbally express his love for you much, Mydei would slay a god for you and hand you their heart as a gift. I'm just kidding, he's not just a hot headed brute. But, still, he will give you gifts that reminds him of you, or just things you like generally. Oh you were walking together and he heard you gushing over something of your interest? You will find that same said thing the next day you wake up placed on your nightstand.

Mydei will remember things about you, even ones that are tiny and useless. He will remember the precise number of the plushies in your room and your breakfast routine if you tell him. Would tag you along to have a bite at the restaurant that serves his favourite pancake, and would let you know that he actually likes the pink in his pomegranate juice. While Mydei becomes more gentle with you around, he also gets extra protective of you, by nature. Nobody really mess with you unless they have a death wish because of this.

"What? No no! Mydei is actually super nice! You just need to get to know him to see that side." *radiates passively agressive aura*

By the end, Mydei softens around you like a lion turning into a house-cat. His sarcastic remarks stays though! <3 /hj

♡ Castorice, Servant of Death ノ Quality Time ⸝⸝ Words of Affirmation Due to her curse, Castorice has been deprived of physical contacts for so long throughout her life. She is well aware of this, and because of it too, makes sure you physically keep your distance away from her at least a little. Not because she has any grudges against you obviously! The Servant, in fact, loves you very very much and deeply wishes she could hold you and vice versa. When it comes to this, Castorice makes a plushie resembling you for her to hold at hard times.

While she's incapable of touching you in fear of sending you to the not-so-sweet embrace of death, Castorice loves spending time with you. You two could sit under the white gazebo nestled at the garden of Marmoreal Palace, and she would tell you all sorts of story revolving around the history of the Titans and more. If not that, then she will make accessories together with you. Aside from that, Castorice showers you with sweet words that she wishes you know of too.

"[Name], I sincerely hope you are aware of just how blessed I am to be in your presence.." "I love you too, Castorice."

Castorice might be cursed with the touch of death, but just by your existence had the burden on her shoulders be lifted off slightly and The Servant is very grateful of it <3

#hsr x reader #x reader #phainon x reader #mydei x reader #aglaea x reader #castorice x reader #amphoreus #honkai star rail #writing #fleuriion #hsr

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novaursa · 3 months ago

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Hello Nova! I'd love to read an explicit, romance + smut + drama, Sandor x reader where the reader is Jon's twin sister, and it's a forced/arranged marriage trope.

I think the plot where it's as a punishment by Joffrey, but that's kinda cliché, so how about:

Reader had been married before to some Northerner lord, but he died or had it annulled, and while discussing Sansa and Joffrey's marriage with Cat, Cersei comes up with the idea to marry her off to the Hound, so she could "breed" the next gen of the kingsguard, promising if she had girls they'd have a place in court or be married to worthy suitors.

Cat obviously wants her away, and Robert or Cat can convince Ned it's a good idea since nobody else wants to marry reader.

Idk if it's too crazy, but I can't wait to read it. I am obsessed with your writing. Keep up the good work! ♡

A Dog's Honor

Requests are closed

- Summary: You never belonged anywhere. Not in the North, not with your family. But you might belong with him.

- Pairing: snow!reader/Sandor Clegane

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @idenyimimdenial

- A/N: This ones is fresh from the oven. I hope I've managed to write everything you had in mind. ☺️

The godswood had not changed in all the years since your childhood, nor had the bitter chill in its air dulled with age or memory. The red leaves of the heart tree still whispered above the quiet pool, still bled their sap in the likeness of weeping. You sat beneath it now, wrapped in a cloak of grey and white, your breath fogging in the cold as you tried to lose yourself in the old gods and your own thoughts. But they would not leave you be. Not when the castle was teeming with southern strangers, golden lions and oiled courtiers who eyed you with a mixture of polite disdain and open curiosity. You, a Snow, a widow with no remnant of a title save what had briefly been granted through your dead husband’s name, and a Stark only in blood and shadow.

Voices carried from the great hall beyond the trees. Loud, boisterous—Robert’s laugh, like the roar of a bear. Then Cersei’s cutting tone, low and biting. You flinched before you even heard your name.

“…And what would you have us do with her, Lady Catelyn? Leave her to become a silent sister? Or let her wither away here, haunting these halls like some northern ghost?”

You heard your step-mother’s voice, quiet and clipped, trying to hold firm against the lioness’s derision. “She is still mourning. Y/N’s husband died only last year.”

“Yes, and no new offers have come since, have they?” Cersei drawled, amusement coiling in her words like a snake. “Pretty enough, in a cold sort of way, but too Stark to tempt a southern lord. Too quiet. Too solemn. And now too old to dangle in front of a noble boy with his cock still wet.”

“Cersei,” Eddard said, warning thick in his tone, “That is enough.”

But the queen only smiled. You knew it without seeing. That smile was a blade sheathed in velvet.

“I have a proposal, if your northern honor allows some sense,” she said. “Let the girl be wed again. To one who will not care for her sharp tongue or her wintry silences. One who will breed loyalty, if not beauty.”

You felt it then—the pause. The cold hush of something heavy falling into place.

“To Sandor,” Cersei said at last. “My son’s dog. He is no knight, but he serves better than most who wear the title. And we’ve always spoken of what should come after. The next generation of the Kingsguard must be stronger than the last, especially if they are to serve Joffrey when he is king. A Snow and a Clegane—harsh stock, but strong. She would breed warriors. Sons for the sword, daughters for the court. Perhaps one might even wed a knight or a minor lord. It is more than she has now.”

Your blood had frozen. You rose from the godswood without a sound, the trees no longer speaking to you.

Inside, the hearth roared as if in mockery of the cold that had taken root in your chest. You stepped through the doorway as your father turned sharply, his face white with fury.

“She is not some broodmare to be bartered for steel,” Eddard snapped.

“No,” Cersei agreed sweetly, turning to you now. “She is a widow with no prospects. Unless you have a better suggestion, Lord Stark?”

Robert, red-cheeked from wine and the hunt, waved a hand. “It makes sense, Ned. She’s not likely to find better, and Sandor has served Joff well. Let him have something of his own at last. She’s your daughter by blood, not your name. And she’s of age. Let them be married before we leave for King’s Landing.”

You stood at the edge of the hall, every eye on you. Your breath shallow, your mouth dry. Sandor Clegane was there too, leaning against a stone pillar in the shadow of the firelight. His expression unreadable, though his eyes burned like coals beneath his brow.

“You’d marry me off to a dog?” you asked, voice low but steady.

Cersei tilted her head. “Better a dog than no master at all.”

“Enough,” Eddard said, rising now, voice as hard as ice. “You will not speak of her that way again, Cersei. She is of my blood.”

“She is of no house,” Cersei replied. “You know it. That is why it fits.”

You turned your eyes to your father, your true father, who had always loved you as his own. Eddard’s mouth was pressed into a grim line, his jaw tight.

“Y/N,” he said at last, soft and solemn, “It may not be what you wanted. But I would not see you waste away here. And Robert… is not wrong. There may not be another offer. Not one that protects you.”

You did not speak again until long after the feast, after the queen had smirked her way through supper, after Robert had poured more wine into his beard than his cup, after Sansa had clung to the idea of marrying her prince like a child with a doll. You found yourself in the stables, your fingers stroking the mane of your mare, trying to ignore the ache behind your eyes.

“You’re too proud for this place,” came a gruff voice at your back.

You turned. Sandor stood in the doorway, face half-shadowed, half-burned. His eyes flicked over you, not with lust or cruelty, but with something bordering on pity.

“I don’t need pity,” you said quietly.

“I didn’t offer it,” he replied. “Just telling you what I see.”

You studied him. He was not handsome, not gentle, not kind. But he had never lied to you, not once. Never dressed his words in honey.

“You don’t want this,” you said.

He gave a grunt of laughter. “What man wouldn’t want a Stark girl in his bed, hm? Pretty enough. Strong hips. But I’m not fool enough to think you want it either.”

“I don’t,” you whispered. “But I won’t be caged here like a relic.”

He stepped closer. The scent of leather, of horse and steel and smoke clung to him like a second skin. He loomed, tall and scarred and brutal, but not cruel.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, voice low. “Not unless you ask for it. And I won’t chase you in your bed. Not until you tell me to.”

You stared up at him, and something inside you shifted. Not surrender, but a kind of grim acceptance.

“I’ll never love you,” you said.

“Good,” Sandor muttered. “Love’s for fools and bards.”

And when he turned and left, leaving you alone in the silence of the stables, you realized you didn’t feel quite so cold anymore.

The wedding had been cold in all but weather. The gods had not smiled, though the sun had shone brightly over Winterfell’s courtyard where Cersei Lannister presided like a vulture draped in silk, offering venomous smiles and mocking toasts. You had worn silver and grey, a gown stitched with direwolves and lined with pale fur, but it might as well have been a shroud. The words were said quickly, without warmth or joy—your father’s voice strained, your hand stiff in Sandor’s gloved grip. When the maester had called for a kiss to seal the vows, Sandor only dipped his head and let the edge of his mouth brush your temple. He had not touched your lips, not claimed you with the hunger you half-expected. Just a brush, a breath, and a step away.

Catelyn had watched it all with a tight, triumphant smile, as though your removal from her household had been a long-awaited purge. She had hugged Sansa too tightly afterward, whispering too loudly that "your sister will be fine, she was never meant for the North." You had seen the way her eyes avoided yours during the feast, heard the way her voice grew more cheerful the further you were from her sight. And Jon—gods, your twin had looked ready to throw his goblet at the queen when the toasts began, red-faced and shaking, but he had no power to stop it. No title. No name. Just a bastard like you once were, before widowhood had offered you a different kind of prison.

The bedding had been skipped, at your insistence, and for once even the queen had relented. "Let her scurry off with her beast in peace," Cersei had murmured with false kindness. "We’ve had our amusement for one day."

Now, inside the old bedchamber the servants had hurried to prepare, you stood with your back to the heavy door. Sandor had not lit the hearth yet, but the faint light from a cluster of candles painted your silhouette across the stone wall. You could still smell wine and pine needles from the feast, the ghosts of winter mingling in your lungs as you breathed slowly, deliberately.

He stood near the window, half in shadow, unfastening the black surcoat that had been brushed clean for the wedding. You watched his scarred face from the side, the way the firelight licked the ruined skin, how his eyes were darker than you'd remembered, full of watchfulness instead of hunger.

"You don’t have to be afraid," Sandor said finally, voice rough like gravel, but quieter now. Almost hesitant.

“I’m not,” you replied, turning to face him.

His eyes flicked to you, then away. “I told you before. I won’t force you. You’re not some whore the Lannisters threw at me.”

You didn’t answer right away. Your hands moved to your waist, untying the laces of your gown with stiff fingers. The fabric sighed as it slipped from your shoulders, pooling around your feet like mist. Beneath it, your chemise clung to your skin, thin and silken, more southern than northern in its cut. You saw the way his gaze shifted—his jaw clenched, his fingers flexed—but he didn’t move toward you.

“I know you won’t force me,” you said softly. “That’s why I’m not afraid.”

You stepped out of the dress fully, baring yourself to the cold and to him. Your hair hung loose down your back, the ends brushing your hips. You shivered, but not from fear.

“Let’s just get it over with,” you said, lifting your chin. “Isn’t that what’s expected?”

He made a sound in his throat, not quite a growl, not quite a sigh. He crossed the room slowly, each step heavy, until he stood before you. Not touching. Just looking. You wondered if he would be cruel, if the roughness in his voice would translate to violence in his hands—but instead, he touched your wrist, just a brush of callused fingers. Then your collarbone. Then the slope of your jaw.

“You think I want to hurt you?” he asked, not quite a question.

“I think you know how,” you replied, staring up at him.

He barked a laugh at that—harsh, humorless. “Aye. I know how. But I won’t.”

His hands were large, the palms broad and scarred, but when they cupped your waist, they were gentle. Almost reverent. You let yourself lean into him, closing your eyes as he lowered his mouth to yours. His kiss wasn’t practiced, not soft or sweet like a bard’s tale. But it was real. Earnest. Solid. You clung to him with surprising desperation, your breath caught in your chest.

He undressed slowly, letting you see every inch of him—the fire-scarred skin on his shoulder, the crisscross of old wounds, the strength in his arms and chest. When he took you to bed, it wasn’t hurried or brutal. He laid you down carefully, the mattress creaking beneath your bodies. The cold didn’t seem to reach you anymore.

There was pain at first, yes. But he murmured something against your ear—low and gruff, but soothing. One of his hands tangled in your hair, the other braced beside your head, never pinning you, never pressing too hard. And when he moved inside you, slow and careful, it was more considerate than you had ever imagined him capable of. You bit your lip, breath hitching, but you didn’t cry out. You didn’t need to. He read the tension in your limbs, the way your fingers gripped his back, and adjusted to you without a word.

After, you lay half-covered by the furs, staring at the timbered ceiling, heart still beating too fast. He rested beside you, eyes half-closed, one arm slung across your waist.

“You were gentler than I thought you’d be,” you murmured.

He snorted, but there was no scorn in it. “Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation.”

You turned to face him. “Why’d you agree to it? The marriage.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “Because they would’ve married me off to some court lady otherwise. Or given you to some fat old fool with gout. I figured if we had to be used, might as well be by each other.”

You blinked, stunned by the rough honesty. Then he shifted closer, his heat wrapping around you.

“I’ll keep you safe, girl,” he said against your hair. “You and any babes that come from this. No one will touch you, not while I live.”

You believed him. And for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to exhale.

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sevgilimsatoru · 1 month ago

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Caleb Headcanons ♡

A/N: Just random and very few Caleb headcanons, I wrote down because I kind of felt bad for not writing for a week. Enjoy!!

Caleb is not a picky eater at all, he will eat anything you give him, even if he doesn't like it. He hates wasting food.

Caleb grew his hair out until the last year of high school. He had very healthy and soft hair then cut it overnight.

Caleb always has kept a pack of medication, band-aids and hair ties in his bag, no matter where he went.

Caleb was the type of kid who was never scared of anything at all. Absolutely nothing.

Caleb never liked clowns. He never found clowns funny and was always a little uneasy around clowns, clown costumes in general. You could call it an irrational fear.

Caleb would let you put makeup on him when you were learning how to get good at it. He looks gorgeous wearing makeup.

Because it is canon that Caleb knows how to knit. I would like to think that he knows how to sew too- he learned it from Josephine. He wanted to learn how to crochet too but never found the time to learn properly.

Caleb is the type to make weird food combinations and you are sometimes the victim who has to try these foods.

He always makes safe foods for you whenever he feels that you are feeling down.

Caleb frequently eats lemons slices like they are orange slices.

Caleb knows how to make a variety of types of pickled vegetables- Carrots, onions, ginger, chilli etc.

Caleb is a cat person. As much as I like seeing him as a dog person, I do think it would be very much possible for him to have fun with an energetic and clingy cat.

Caleb had a habit of collecting receipts while growing up.

Caleb is irresponsible as hell when it comes to his own injuries. He could twist his ankle and would act like nothing is wrong and try walking it off.

Caleb is terrified of crying infront of people, not just you but his friends and Josephine too.

Caleb never really fully liked Josephine and he sort of felt guilty for it too. He hated her for the fact that she experimented on MC and Him when they were kids but she also gave them a home and took them in as her own.

Tag list: @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13 @april-likes-smut @calebsbabyapple @mephisto-with-a-knife @wooasecret @anatherone @asgardiancoffemaker @sadsaidthesadthing @beppybeesnuggets @lilacflower667 @mangooes @sunnyx07

#inds #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #xia yizhou #caleb #lnds caleb #caleb x you #love and deepspace #lads mc #lads headcanons #calebmc #caleb x mc #lads boys #lads drabble #caleb drabbles

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thesimsideofluca · 3 months ago

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Purr Cat Café - Brindleton Bay ⋆˚🐾˖°

ABOUT THE CAFÉ

Hey there, lovely reader! I’m so excited to share this cozy little café with you! The idea sparked the moment I saw @imfromsixam share My Purrfect Cat Café and I was instantly inspired! Lately, I’ve been completely obsessed with Brindleton Bay, and I just knew this pack was meant for building something special in this world. So, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, and voilà—a super cute cat café was born! The inside is bursting with color (as you can see!), and there’s even a little outdoor space where cats can play. But that’s not all! I designed the exterior as three charming coastal townhouses: the left one is the café, the right one is a cozy residence, and the last one is a sweet little flower shop. If you have the Business & Hobbies pack, you can make this build even more fun and functional! I hope you love it as much as I loved creating it!

DOWNLOAD HERE FOR FREE [patreon]

DETAILS

Gallery ID | thesimsideofluca 30x30 lot located in Sable Square, Brindleton Bay 83.179$ 3 levels

FLOORPLAN (feel free to change it to your liking)

LOT REQUIREMENTS — PLEASE READ CAREFULLY!

If you want it to appear exactly as shown, you will need the following packs:

Get Together Get to Work Cats and Dogs Snowy Escape High School Years

I also used the following CC:

HOW TO DOWNLOAD

There are two possible ways:

Search on the gallery for thesimsideofluca and download the lot (remember to activate CC, else you will not be able to see it)

Another way is downloading the tray files you find at the end of this document and placing them in your 'Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 4\Tray' folder. You will now see them in your own library (remember to activate CC, else you will not be able to see it).

Do not re-upload my builds and claim them as your own. Do not use my builds as a base to create another one and upload them.

Do not put behind a paywall. Do not convert this lot to blender and sell it as a scene.

Feel free to furnish it however you like and use it for your YT series, always giving credit.

Feel free to tag @thesimsideofluca or #thesimsideofluca if you end up using it, I’d love to see what you do with it!

LIKE WHAT I DO?

Thank you so much! Feel free to subscribe to see more and to support me on Patreon if you are feeling generous. Again, thank you so much ౨ৎ♡

Thanks to all CC creators: @felixandresims @imfromsixam @ravasheencc

DOWNLOAD HERE FOR FREE [patreon]

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years ago

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Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cream] 1/2

Jimin and Yoongi share one major problem when it comes to you and Jungkook- they're not hybrids, which means there's things in life they can never fully understand. But that's what you've got each other now for. And he can't wait to get a taste.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, just hybrid things (scenting, grooming, biting, licking, scruffing, and more), hurt & comfort, heat, manhandling, smut, Dom!brat tamer!Kook, sub!brat!reader, Fluff, SFW in this but smut in the next, some Angst, hints at (sexual) abuse, MCs past somewhat revealed, lots of comfort though

Length: ~4.3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook has to laugh a little as he watches you emerge from your room to presumably check out the smell of the soup, all bundled up in a giant burrito of blankets, tail barely poking out from the bottom between your legs.

The dog hybrid had managed to give you some fever medication, a soft laugh having escaped him as he realized that almost all the medication for you is more so branded towards kittens than actual adult feline hybrids- something Jimin explained was the only way you'd take any of it.

You're so terribly spoiled- but Jungkook can't blame him for doing so.

"M'sorry.." You slur, simply leaning your body against his, face buried in his chest as you rub your forehead against his clothes. "you were probably really.. excited.." You mumble, and he chuckles, a hand on your back- or more so all the blankets wrapped around you.

"Don't apologize." he reassures you, stirring the pot with soup on the stove before he turns off the heat. "I'm more worried about you than anything else. And I told you we wouldn't have to do anything anyways, so no issues there at all." He jokes, though you just stay in your position stubbornly.

Jungkook can really just assume what's happening to you- his internet research and general knowledge from his job offering him a few pieces to the puzzle here and there. It's clear that it's some sort of trauma response- but Jimin had told him that there's nothing documented that would explain why you sometimes fall into such a state during your heat, while other times, you'd be fine. Something Jungkook had found could be that your mind simply 'locked' any memory of something happening- making your body remember, but not your mind. It happens in some hybrids who'd suffered traumatic events in their pasts- and from the looks of it all, that might just be what's going on with you.

All Jungkook really wants however, is to make sure you're alright. He doesn't need to know your past- only your future matters, and he wants to paint it in colors nowhere near as sad as you sometimes look.

"Jungkook.?" You ask suddenly, voice muffled into the fabric of his sweater, and he hums, moving his hands to hold your face in his palms so you can look at him- which you don't do, averting your eyes from him. "Will you.. stay with me?" You ask, and before he can answer, you add on; "..even though I'm me?"

For a moment, he can only hear the clock in the kitchen ticking, his entire body frozen in place as he realizes what you're really asking him.

So he was right all along.

You're scared of being left alone, and he knew this already-

but he might've just figured out what happened to you in the past to cause your body to shut down every time you hit your heat.

Abandonment. Someone had just left you during you most vulnerable time.

"I'll stay with you forever if you want me to." He says, teasingly squishing your cheeks a little, making you pout at him with a playful glare. "No matter if you're sick, or if you're annoying, or if you're angry, or sad-" He rants, tail wagging when you start to smile. "-so stop worrying, and let me be your guard dog." He jokes, making you laugh, before you cough a little.

"You're an idiot!" You laugh, before he lifts you up, blankets and all, to sit you down on one of the kitchen chairs-

boldly pecking your cheek.

"Well, I'm your idiot now."

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"I'm going over-" Jimin suddenly says, Yoongi however reaching out to grab his wrist and hold him back.

"Park Jimin, my hybrid is currently busy spoon-feeding soup to your blanket burrito over there, she's fine." He sighs, before nodding over to the window, where Jimin can actually in fact see your legs happily kicking around on the chair, while Jungkook feeds you, most likely because you refuse to untangle yourself from the blanket. "Jimin, I have been wondering something. And I want you to be honest." He says, as the younger human sits back down. "Do you love her? Romantically?" He asks, and it's quiet for a moment, before Jimin shakes his head.

"When I brought her home, she refused to do anything for days." Jimin explains. "No eating, no drinking, no talking- she was like a wild animal rather than a mostly human being." he remembers, looking at the tabletop. "No one knows what actually went down in that home, since she doesn't remember, and the other two hybrids she was living with had been completely shut down last time I saw them." He recalls, and Yoongi listens intently. "As far as I know, she's the only one who ever recovered to a point where she's considered independent again."

"And now you keep seeing her back in that state, and it scares you so much you rather avoid any negative situation so she doesn't fall back." Yoongi finishes.

"At first, I was walking on eggshells around her." Jimin runs a hand over his face. "One step forward, two steps back. It was a constant push and pull." He explains. "One day she'd make amazing progress, and then the next she'd be back at square one just because I accidentally did something that would set her off. It was.. frustrating, as bad as it sounds."

"It's not a bad thing to admit that it was tough." Yoongi reassures. "It doesn't mean you demean her just by saying that she was a challenge. I can't imagine how hard it must've been to work through all of it on your own."

"I knew that at some point, she was using things to her advantage. She was using me-" He sighs, "-and I let her. Because I knew that she didn't do it because she was a bad person."

"She was just in survival mode." The older human agrees, and Jimin nods with glossy eyes, feeling relieved that his partner seems to understand.

"And at some point, it just became.. okay. I felt content being her punching bag if it meant she was getting better. So I let her bite, and scratch, and yell. It was fine." He nods to himself. "And then.. she changed. Became so soft." the younger human almost whispers. "I don't- you might not really believe it, but she can be so sweet. Once you push past all her nasty walls and all that acting tough, she's an angel. She really is."

"I mean, I've seen glimpses of it, here and there. So I believe you." Yoongi chuckles. "And I think I understand your feelings towards her too. You're.. similar to me and Jungkook, I guess." He shrugs. "It's more of a.. caretaker situation. I feel responsible, in a way, since I practically raised him through his teenage years. Every flaw he now has somewhat falls back onto me." He laughs to himself. "I love him. Not intimately, or romantically- just.."

"Just love." Jimin says, nodding. "Nothing else. Just pure affection."

"Exactly." Yoongi nods.

And for a moment, both of them just look at each other-

enjoying the feeling of knowing that finally, someone else seems to understand.

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Due to his job, Jungkook has become pretty good at recognizing behaviors and adjusting his own accordingly. And he realizes quickly that your body and your mind are terribly disconnected in one way or another- making it a bit tough to figure out how to place his steps to make you feel comfortable.

Your mind is clearly content, happy and relaxed around him. You're purring against his chest right now, belly filled with warm soup and fever slowly coming down little by little, giving you finally a chance at proper rest. Your body, however, is still on high alert- ears constantly moving, tail never staying still, muscles tense in case you need to escape from whatever might happen.

He's basically forced to work with two sides of you at the same time- and upsetting one, could send the other into a panic at any time, due to your heat.

But he's got an ace up his sleeve- he's just as much of a hybrid as you are. And he noticed some things that work very well on you already.

You've currently started to roll around next to him on the bed- uncaring if your blankets or pillows fall down. It's clear that you're starting to become comfortable again, to the point of your heat actually making you interested again. And it also brings out your personality once more- as you playfully bite after him whenever he tries to touch you. You clearly initiate every contact first- from bumping your head into his body, to actually laying over him and holding onto his arms. But the moment he moves towards you, you bite, kick, or push at him again- and he knows that it's your instincts kicking in.

Jungkook has had sex before. He's not innocent in the slightest, and yet, he's sure that once you're ready for that with him, you'll be able to give him something he's been missing in every experience he's had before;

something wild, and untamed.

"Stop biting me you gremlin." Jungkook laughs while he watches you dig your teeth into the skin of his forearm that you hold onto- though you're not breaking skin whatsoever. It's just a play-bite, and neither is he mad about it. "You wanna get up and eat something?" He asks, and you finally let go, roll onto your back, and huff.

"No." You whine. "But I'm hungry." You complain further, and he chuckles.

"So what is it then?" He wonders, and your tail smacks loudly onto the bed.

"I wanna eat!" You complain, arms crossed. "But here!" You say, and he shakes his head.

"You're not eating in bed." He denies. "Once your heat breaks through you'll spend enough time here." He tells you, and at that, you begin to squirm a bit uncomfortably. He's noticed it some time ago already, can only really assume the contents of your most recent dream you had while sleeping next to him-

he somehow hopes he was a part of it. Maybe even the main part of it.

He can sense that you're slowly breaking out of your fever, but you're not yet there- there's still a certain sense of distrust you seem to have, and he fully understands and respects that. After all, considering this will be your first heat and first sexual experience, there has to be some sort of anxiety within you. He can only imagine how intimidating everything must be to you.

"How do you feel?" He asks, carefully reaching out to run a hand over your naked shoulder- an action you now let happen, no longer in a playful mood than before. "Hm?" He asks when you just cringe and whine, slowly sitting up.

"Dunno.." You mumble. "Don't wanna.. do stuff yet though. Sorry." You say, when he moves around on the bed, now sitting on his heels in front of you, hands on your cheeks.

"I'm not here just to take advantage of you, or have my fun with your body." He explains to you in a serious manner. "I'm not here just to have sex with you and satisfy myself." He says. "I'm here because I want to take care of you, and because I want to help you."

"Yeah and like, help is gonna-" You start, but he shakes his head.

"Help is gonna be what it's gonna be. Even if you don't want any help in that department at all, I'll still stay if you want me to." He shrugs.

"I want that." You say, grabbing and holding onto his sweater, pulling it towards you. "You gotta stay. Or I'll get sad." You tell him, flopping down into your side on the bed, and he grins, leaning down towards you.

"And we don't want you being sad, right?" He hums lowly, making you nod softly, almost shy.

"If I get sad I won't let you see me naked." You boldly tell him, and he laughs, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Oh no, I better keep you happy then!" He dramatically exclaims, laying down next to you. "What does a poor dog gotta do to make the princess smile?" He wonders dramatically, and you grin playfully, rolling onto your back.

"He'd carry her to the kitchen and feed her." You sing, tail curling impishly around. "And then he'd probably have to cuddle her, and make sure she's never lonely." You explain.

He nods. "I think I can do that." He suddenly says, before he gets up to throw you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You complain, and he laughs, testing the waters by playfully hitting your butt once as he walks out the door towards the kitchen.

"You wanted to be carried." He shrugs, laughing when he notices you suddenly becoming shy. "You never said how."

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"I lied." You suddenly say as Jungkook is back in bed with you, having you laid over his lap while he pets your ears. "I had sex before. Well-... kinda." You mumble, and his touch never stops.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asks casually, careful not to make you nervous. "It's fine if you don't want to."

"No, It's just-" you huff, visibly riled up by the topic. "I don't remember it well. Like, it's like a dream that you know you had but you forgot most of the details. I know I was bad, and I know it wasn't good. I remember that I was alone after, and that I was in the bathroom- I know that I slept in the bathtub, back at my old home, but I don't remember why. I just.. woke up there." You shrug, and Jungkook nods.

So it really is how he thought. Your mind has locked certain memories away to protect you- however, the trauma responses are still there, instincts unable to forget that easily.

"I guess that's why my heat is sometimes like that. I don't know.." you mumble. "..I don't know how to deal with this stuff. I'm not sure what you do and what you don't do during your heat.." you look someplace distant. "I'm broken. And I don't know how to fix me." You sigh.

"You're not broken at all." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're you. And I like you."

"You say that to get into my pants." You roll your eyes, and he laughs.

"I'm saying that because it's true. I don't want anything from you that you're not willing to give me." He shrugs.

"Then what if I don't want to have sex with you?" You ask, rolling onto your back to look at him. "What if I don't want you to touch me? Or if I'm mean? Or-"

"That won't change the fact that I like you." He says, shutting you up. You're so used to people only doing things so they can get something out of it for themselves, that Jungkook's words have become alien to you. He's just like Jimin, back then.

Intimidating, because his friendliness is just way too suspicious. But for now, you just go to sleep- taking a nap close to him, to maybe relax and sort out yourself and your situation for once.

Maybe.

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You're suddenly huffy yet again, hiding away from Jungkook underneath the blankets, and no amount of treats or praise seems to be able able to get you out from underneath them. He tries it all for a good while- offering your favorite foods, promising cuddles, even getting Jimin for you- but you refuse to come out and face him any longer.

He's not sure what happened after your little talk, but he's determined to find out.

"You can leave now!" You hiss underneath the heavy blanket, and he sighs, sitting cross-legged on the bed instead, not moving an inch. You're stubborn- but he's got the better patience of you both, so he decides to just wait it out for now, instead of getting you out underneath. He'd risk setting you off again- and he's not sure if he could handle the guilt of being the one to cause you distress. "Go away!" You yell again, but to no avail. He's not moving.

"Not until you tell me why." He responds to you calmly, and suddenly, your face pokes out the blanket, eyes red from crying, face clearly angry.

"I'm not in heat anymore, you can go now..!" You huff, and he tilts his head a bit confused, unsure what you're talking about.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you just hide underneath the blanket again.

"I don't know, I'm just not anymore, so you can fuck off!" You growl, pulling the edges of the blanket close.

Jungkook thinks for a good moment. Maybe you're confused? You clearly still smell like you're in heat- more than ever, in fact, but your mind is pretty obviously not anymore, which doesn't make sense. And even if you weren't anymore, why do you suddenly seem to hate his presence?

"Do you think I only wanted you.. because you're in heat?" Jungkook wonders, tests the waters, and your silence tells him everything. He sighs loudly, and pulls on the blanket, easily overpowering you and taking away your hiding spot. And just as you try and get away, he pins you down instead by your wrists, leaning over you to look at you closely. "I want you when you're not in heat too. I want you whenever you want me." He tells you, and you look at him with wide open eyes.

"Why?" You ask.

"I don't think any explanation would really convince you." Jungkook says, looking at you. "Because you don't seem to understand that.. love and affection, that doesn't need anything else. Actual love isn't a giving and taking. It's not a transaction. You don't decide to love someone." He shrugs, before his hold on your hands loosens, arms rather wrapping around you to pick you up and hold your body against his, hugging you with his face in your shoulder. "Let me love you." He hums against your skin, and you don't know what to do for a good while.

He's right.

Love always comes with some responsibility for you- or at least it did, in the past. If someone loves you, you're obligated to return it in some way- you have to pay it back, somehow, no matter if it's not what you want, or if you don't love that person at all. Love always has some sort of hidden meaning. There's always a compensation wanted.

But Jungkook is like Jimin. He doesn't want anything from you- so what are you supposed to give?

Because compared to everyone who 'loved' you in the past, you actually want to pay him back. You want to return it. You want to be loved. But he doesn't want anything from you in return. What do you do now?

"What do you want from me?" You almost whisper, unsure. "I want to.. I don't know what to give you." You whimper, body shaking a little.

"I don't need anything from you." He chuckles, holding you a bit closer.

"You have to want something!" You call out in frustration. "I don't know what to give you in return- I wanna-.. I need to give you something, anything.." You stutter, and he realizes what you need.

"How about your love then?" He wonders, leaning back a little to look at you. "Please love me." He asks, a smile on his lips and tail happily wagging.

And for once in your life, never has a request been so easy to fulfill.

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'I'm not in heat anymore', is what you've said. In reality, you very much still are- and Jungkook realizes as you lift your behind up next to him with red cheeks, face hidden in the pillows in embarrassment, that you finally broke through. So if anything, you've never been so deeply in heat than right now.

You trust him enough to let yourself go, and leave your body in his care- instincts taking over as you whine in complaint next to him on the bed.

Before you went to sleep a few hours prior, he'd had a very in-depth talk about what's allowed to happen in this situation. How far he's allowed to go, what you think you'll enjoy and what you absolutely do not want, no matter how much your fogged up brain will ask for it. So he's empowered by a certain sense of confidence in his actions- and he's also more than excited to help you.

After all, you're his partner from now on. You're his princess- and he can't wait to mark you up as such, too.

He turns onto his side to watch you, as you slowly move around to roll on the bed and get your scent everywhere- dark spot on your underwear giving him an idea of the predicament you're in, inside of your legs already glistening with your slick, probably having started during your nap earlier. He can also see the underside of the base of your tail wet from having been pulled between your thighs in a pitiful attempt to somehow provide any sort of relief- which didn't work. And even your hand, which travels shamelessly underneath the fabric of your underwear, doesn't seem to help you at all.

The moment your eyes lock, he waits. He knows what you want, but he refuses to act on anything that's not your clear words. You're in heat, after all- not mute.

"Jungkook..!" You whine, rolling around once more before you kick after his legs- though he catches your ankle, holds it with a stern but playful look. You whine again, no words coming from you, as you try and pull your leg away.

"Words." He simply states, letting go of you before he moves one arm to rest behind his head, lazily watching you. "I can't read your mind." He shrugs.

"You can!" You hiss, sitting up. "You know!" You argue, and he's got the audacity to laugh at you. "Do something!"

"How about you beg a little and I think about it?" He teases, and he can see in seconds how your cheeks turn red.

"You're evil!" You hiss.

"And you're being a brat right now." He shrugs, looking at you, now sat up to glare at him. "Just a pretty little 'please' and I'll do whatever you'd like me to." He almost sings, very much aware that he's riling you up right now. He's studied you enough to know how far he can go. He'd never intentionally make you feel bad- especially not in a situation like this. But he also wants to have a little fun with you- you're just too easy to tease.

And so fun, too.

"Please~ do something then!" You huff, flopping onto your back, making him laugh- before he moves his arms, opening them, inviting you silently. He's not even gonna move for you- you have to come to him instead.

And so you do just that-

Giving yourself to him in a final display of trust.

And he's gonna make sure you'll know it's not being misplaced with him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #jeon jungkook imagine #yoongi imagine #jimin imagine #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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promise-of-soup · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, I was wondering if you could do some more ghoul affection headcanons, maybe from Obscuary. Maybe you could do all three of them, of course that’s up to you (I can’t decide on which one😂)

I like the way your write btw🩷

Heya! I'm so sorry it took me so long anon, I know i even answered another ask for a similar thing before this one because I was trying to figure out how to best format it lol, basically, here I shall do Edward and then I will post Rui and Lyca seperately after making a masterlist for all the affection headcanons, I wanted to do it in a format where it's one ghoul per post lolol, so by the time you're reading this one, the other two are also going to be posted :)

Thanks for the request and for your kind words!

* ✦Edward Hart Affection Headcanons *✦

✦Summary: How does Edward show and receive affection? and is it true that he is a bit cringe about both of these things?

✦Tags: Fluff, not inherently romantic but kinda is, non-spesific gender or descriptor for the MC, headcanons

✦Notes: Vampire man

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

The question on Darkwick's students' mind is whether or not it is true that vampires are inherently romantic. Just because they are aware of vampires being real doesn't mean they are not pre-disposed to popular media depictions of vampires. In fact, I'd say there's quite a small but vocal fanbase surronding Ed among the general students who find him alluring purely because he is a vampire, but this doesn't override the fact that most people are really scared of him.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ Showing ⋆｡˚ ꕥ˚ ༘♡

Listen, if you open a dictionary and look for the entry for "clingy" there's just a picture of Edward Hart.

HE IS ON YOU 24/7

If he isn't there physically with you, he's there through the nonstop notifications to your phone.

When you wake up your phone is already blasting notifications, and you open his messages to find pictures that look like this:

and for a man that is on YouTube all the time, it seems like he only has access to a version of the internet that expired in 2016, so he will send you a "new and original meme" he found and it's a low-quality version of a vine from 2013.

YOU BETTER LAUGH AT IT.

He will also send you weird selfies of himself that are really blurry or with strange angles "because you like him" and "I want you to look at me :("

You have to leave your phones behind on missions because you'll be running for your life from a scary anomaly but your phone is vibrating every 0.3 seconds and if you don't answer quickly it goes to 0.1 seconds because he's like "why do you not like me anymore? I miss you :("

When he is there with you, his phone is the last thing on his mind, and he is literally just like, sitting on you.

He is big on physical affection, and finds any and all excuses to have his hands on you, even if it's just the tips of his fingers on your shoulder, he is touching you constantly.

If you try to leave he'll be like "Why? do you not like me?"

For you he will leave his room... To go to your room.

He does not like being outside, so expect to be "kidnapped" (begged nonstop to show up to his room or for him to show up to yours) where you will experience the extreme addition of cuddling, which is just cuddling but you can't leave because you're warm and he's a sad old man so you can't just leave him alone like that.

If you tell him you're hungry or thirsty he will let you go get stuff (and text you after five minutes with a sad cat emoji saying he misses you)

He will then take this as an excuse to flirt with you by insisting on feeding you "because he's cute".

If you're talking to other people he is glued to your back and playing with your arms, and if it takes too long for you to finish the conversation he can sometimes just grow impatient, yawn, and take you away.

Calls you "My love" or "Dear", sometimes "Darling" too

He just likes being around you, whatever that intails lol

Flirts with you CONSTANTLY, doesn't matter if you're just saying hello, on a date with him, hanging out, whatever, whenever, he is flirting with you very blatantly.

You can tell very easily when he is needy or wants more of your attention because he will just whisper in your ear that he is needy and needs your attention - duh.

He communicates VERY WELL. just like, he will say what he wants, good for him lol.

Will give you a flower every once in a while because he "courts" you as well, he doesn't just flirt, he courts: expect old man mannerisms like pulling your chair for you, or buying you two matching outfits, or like, sending you gifs of hearts exploding into glitter with the word "love" rotating around.

"You look good today" and it's every time he sees you.

He always means his compliments, and he will give you lots of them. The only times he doesn't give compliments is when he is blatantly telling you to do something he wants to see you do like "You should wear a more revealing outfit so I can look at you wearing a more revealing outfit" type of thing.

Doesn't wanna see anyone apart from you sometimes, and wants you to agree to just be with him on those days and not let people send messages through you.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ Receiving⋆｡˚ ꕥ˚ ༘♡

He's very easy to give affection to, all you need is to not care about anything else and basically pay him attention 24/7. He's very high maintenance and needs constant loving or he goes all sad.

When he does all his "I'm a little old man *cough cough" you are legally required to grab him and tell him you're there, and to then take him to his room to make sure he's alright.

Whatever joint or whatever he mentions is hurting at that moment is the place you need to kiss or pet.

"Awww your poor knee," and then just like kiss it briefly, "there, all better now?" and he will nod with a sad pout.

He likes forehead kisses and being called "baby", the combination of the two is lethal

He knows what you think, but he likes when you're honest with him anyways and tell him what you think out loud, he really likes good communication.

I also believe he loves telling stories about his life, and if you sit with him and listen to him, or better, if you ask him a lot of questions, he will be very pleased.

He loves handholding but won't initiate it himself for some reason, so you should hold his hand and he will like it lol

Simple, but responding to his texts as fast as possible is also really key to giving him affection.

As I mentioned, he's another one of the "baby him, he really needs it" line of ghouls, so yeah, baby him, he really needs it

By really needs it I mean that he seems kinda sad about his routine, and if you baby him and act like he's a little helpless creature that needs your love and attention he will be happier and feel seen and loved.

This one is very odd, but he likes if your contact name for him is something special and cute that stands out from the rest, like if everyone else is listed as "Rui-Senpai" or "Lyca-Kun" he would really like to be something like "Baby" or the way I call him lol if you're funnier, "Grandpa Ed", "Ed (insert several heart emojis)"

Also PDA. MASSIVE PDA FAN. Make sure everyone sees you hold his hand or hug him or call him "baby", he loves to make sure you get as much PDA done as possible if not to piss off everyone than just to show you off or feel like you're showing him off.

Likes to lay down and do nothing with you, or if you watch YouTube together and you show him things that were actually posted recently.

#yay rui and lyca next and then ren and then request others pwease hehe #sorry for being so slow with asks y'all #got a lot cooking in the background atm #so expect it evil-ie? idk #anyways #tokyo debunker #tkdb x reader #tokyo debunker x reader #tkdb #tokyo debunker fanfiction #tokyo debunker headcanons #Edward Hart #tokyo debunker edward #obscuary #edward hart x reader

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angelesca · 6 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐮𝐨𝐟𝐮’𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬! ʕ •̀ ω •́ ʔ

w.c. total: 6500+ (whew)

this was overdue oops... like who wants to read a halloween post in december?? ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ but! im happy to finally get this out of the basement!!! YAY everyone is silly n' goofy ofc, reader is gender neutral

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

feixiao gang goes ghost hunting! w.c. ~1330

content: jiaoqiu is the designated scaredy cat(sorry jiaoqiu it had to be someone), feixiao being awesome as always, moze wants to go home, they are breaking into your house

“o’ wondrous general, you must lead the way and charge first!”

“hey! don’t push me!”

“c’mon, just go in already…”

“moze, heeeeeeelp meeee–aaAaaAaah!”

“...”

the dead of night stirs awake, no thanks to a lively bunch of bright-eyed no-namers, hoping to eternalise themselves in the tabloids (moze does not wish to be associated, he is just tagging along).

despite their spiritual powers, business for this ghost-hunting squad has been dreadful. ever since the formation of the ghostbusters hunters, they have accumulated a whopping number of one hungry dog, one angry landlord, and one confused grandma on their doorstep. that is to say, they have had no customers at all.

if they don’t hit the jackpot tonight, they will, as feixiao exaggeratedly puts it, die.

“okay!” feixiao huffs, keeping jiaoqiu at arm’s distance. jiaoqiu lifts an irritated eyebrow, dismissing the hand that feixiao shoved in his face. “first, we must equip some weapons.” with a click of her fingers, moze begrudgingly reveals himself from the shadows.

a strange bag announces itself with a loud thump when moze throws it down. jiaoqiu holds his head with his hands, mouth gaping open, “hey, be careful!” he rushes down to his knees and cradles the device like a newborn. “this is my portable hotpot cooker!”

feixiao waves her hand. “why do we need that to hunt ghosts? are you gonna eat them?”

jiaoqiu grins.

“feixiao, you are literally holding a gun in your hand.” moze grunts, picking up the only sensible item: a flashlight imbued with a light that reveals all.

they were certainly prepared to tackle the dangers of their first ever ghost-hunting mission.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

feixiao punches a window with devastating force, shattering glass as easily as her swatting a bug. moze tips his hood down in shame as he watches the two foxians struggle inside the makeshift entrance.

they successfully infiltrate enemy territory. gulping, feixiao instructs, “moze. flashlight.”

plumes of darkness which obscured, dissipates its shadowy tendrils, tucking into even darker corners. the flashlight illuminates a safe beacon within the room, washing relief into jiaoqiu. “that’s more like it– um, what is that?”

“what is... ” —feixiao turns towards jiaoqiu’s direction. the two are frozen solid— “what… ”

in a corner, the contour of a steep shadow. it squeaks like a frightened mouse, belying its daunting aura. it flees out the door.

“the mission is already starting, huh?” feixiao cocks her gun ready, bloodthirsty. “let’s go, ghost hunters.”

the three nod in unison, finally agreeing for once. they follow the trail, quick on their feet to catch the prize. jiaoqiu points towards a slamming door. “there!”

the gang rushes towards it with jiaoqiu taking the lead. with haste, he aggressively rips the door open.

an elephant sits on the toilet, shaking. jiaoqiu slowly closes the door. "i am so sorry."

“behind us,” moze indicates, pointing behind them. in the kitchen, a fridge light gleams white, confessing to a tall silhouette which stood hunched before it.

the three tiptoes closer. the silhouette stops, ears perking. in their hands, a pile of… indistinguishable meat…

“z-zzz-z-zom-m-b-bie…!” jiaoqiu trembles. he steps back, but is unfortunately interrupted as his back collides with a soft obstacle. he turns around– “llll-ll-lion??!”

laying on the floor, a talking lion (impressive) scratches its nose with its paw, yawning. “if you guys are gonna break in, at least do a decent job of it.”

“what’s all this noise?” the intrusive voice, disguised innocently, reeks of a disturbing intention to kill—according to jiaoqiu’s narration. thunderous stomps strike upon the floorboards. there is no mistaking the behemoth in front of them: a mythical dragon towers over them. “who are you?”

jiaoqiu yelps as if pricked by a million needles. he latches onto moze’s back. “we’re dead!”

…yet, when perilous flames of ye all-mighty scorch the weak of their will, a hero arises from the ashes to reignite a hearth that once blazed a hope so lustrous.

she, who braves the inferno, shall relinquish herself as a mere plaything of fate to save her people.

and sever her humanity she shall; render her bones brittle if thou must. forswear the tangible vessel that shackles thy to a fragile mortality, to ascend as the hideous terror of gods.

“finally, a real challenge.” the hero forgoes her firearm, cracking her knuckles. she wields her bare fists in front of the apathetic dragon, a worthy challenger. an assertive grin spans her face. “an opponent strong enough to evaluate the effectiveness of my training!”

the hero is none other than feixiao, the esteemed leader of the ghost hunters!

“seriously?! you muscle-headed freak!! moze, capture her!”

with jiaoqiu riding moze’s back, and a deflated feixiao under his arm, the ghost hunter squad dashes off, abandoning their pride at the door.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

“crap.” you stare wide-eyed at the broken window. never in a million years did you think someone would have balls heavy enough to venture into xianzhou’s infamous haunted house.

about to enter inside, the door bursts open before you could touch the handle. you jump out of the way of the intruders, who were two foxians now laying on the ground. following closely, a third man walks out the door, surprised to meet your eyes. “oh, are you the owner…?”

“yes…” you stare back, baffled. “did you guys break my window?”

he glances at the foxian pair and embarrassment flushes his cheeks. the purple man groans, rubbing his neck. “i deeply apologise,” he bows his head. “let me know how much you need for compensation(please don’t take us to court) and i'll pass it onto those two-”

“hey!” the pink foxian shoves himself into the conversation, wrapping an arm around the purple man’s shoulder. “we’re a three, right? us three will pay for it!” he wriggles his eyebrows.

“ah, reinforcements have arrived.” the white-haired foxian marches towards you, patting your shoulder. you raise a confused eyebrow. “be careful, this mission is seriously sss-grade difficulty.”

you watch the sweat pour down feixiao’s forehead. her legs wobble dramatically, as if the tremors of an earthquake have struck her. “are your knees okay?” you ask.

“don’t worry, these are the results of my workout.”

jiaoqiu sarcastically interjects, “is pissing your pants a workout now?”

the white-haired foxian clears her throat, ignoring the other. “let me introduce you to the gang: i’m feixiao, this is jiaoqiu, and moze. nice to meet you, fellow hunter.”

“they’re not a ghostbust– i mean, hunter; they’re the owner of this property,” moze explains, pointing a thumb at you.

you nod, arms crossed. “anyways, i kinda need you guys to pay for my window. it’s a lot of money, y’know.”

feixiao gauges you. eyebrows creasing, teal eyes piercing. she hopes that her intimidation will knock a few zeroes off the price. “how much?”

“let’s see… not only a broken window, but trespassing is a crime too.” you tap your chin. “how 'bout a million?” unfortunately, her tactic is ineffective.

feixiao’s eyes pop open, her soul almost skipping to the afterlife. “one million?!” your attack deals a devastating blow; truly, this mission is of sss-grade difficulty. despite her strength, money is the one weakness that hero feixiao cannot defeat. her eyes frantically shake, shoving a disorganised jiaoqiu in front of her. “i’ll sell him off, he’s very useful! good at cooking!”

jiaoqiu’s eyes brighten at the mention of cooking. “hmm… i propose hotpot, a most nutritious and filling meal. i can boil some homemade broth, perhaps a mala and tomato base, and cook some mild, oily dishes to accompany the spiciness—no coriander. by the way, i’m not a chef or anything i swear i’m a healer.”

although they literally broke into your house, they seem to be an honest-to-good bunch. if anything, you are impressed they haven’t passed away from shock, considering the eerie residents that nest in your home. besides, hotpot sounds pretty good. “okay, but you guys are paying for all the food! plus my window, of course.”

moze smiles at you. “thank you"

you smile back. a hotpot party, huh? hopefully, they don’t mind the extra spooky guests…

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

2. dragon's tail w.c. ~920

content: dh's tail being sensitive bc it's that time of the year

it must’ve been the 1987469th time you’ve knocked on dan heng’s door.

whatever possessed you to believe this time around would be different, is met with disappointing results as usual.

it is time to adopt another strategy.

you knock again. “dan heng?”

nothing.

“high elder mk2000?”

nothing.

“cold dragon you— woah!” something heavy cuffs onto your wrist through the slight gap of the door, pulling you into shadows.

dan heng’s room is unusually dim. in the dark space, the light of a lamp is the only comfortable shelter your eyes could return to. with its help, you find a faint silhouette on the bed—a tall lump under a blanket. that is when you notice it was dan heng’s tail that dragged you in.

you plop onto the bed. from under the blanket, dan heng peeks at you. “...! how did you get in?”

you hold up your wrist, revealing the culprit. his tail uncurls and tickles your nose.

“it has become restless these days. don’t worry, you can leave me alone for some time.”

“but your tail is all over me-mmphfff!” the end of dan heng’s tail brushes over your mouth, cutting your words short.

his tail flops around like a fish in your lap. “ignore it,” he says, as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

“i just got here though...” feeling mischievous, you poke his tail and it twitches. you are rattled by how sensitive it is.

dan heng scoots over, shuffling away timidly. you observe how he keeps pulling on the legs of his trousers.

shuffle shuffle.

... sliiiiiide.

when he turns his head to look at you, you manage to be even closer than before. a complete opposite of his intentions. "?!"

“it wasn’t me.” you gesture at his tail which is wrapped around your shoulder, like an old friend.

dan heng sighs. “i apologise. i do not mean to avoid you.”

“it’s fine,” you reassure, sitting criss-crossed on his bed. “take your time.”

your words manage to wring a smile out of dan heng’s blank face. he clears his throat. “however, do you really have to keep doing that?”

“doing what?”

he indicates towards your hand which is furiously stroking the soft underside of his tail. you are moments away from collapsing into it and plunging into a sweet dream. his tail seems to like it too, swaying side-to-side.

nevertheless, you stop. “sorry. it’s a force of habit.”

yet, his tail directs your hand back, requesting that you continue. you look at dan heng who rubs his forehead. they say that a dragon’s tail also represents it’s heart...

you clasp your hands together. “if you don’t like it, i won’t do anything.”

like a spoiled kid, the tail thrashes up and down. dan heng’s eyes shoot open, as startled as you are. oh boy.

the powerful appendage swirls forceful winds, conjuring a storm in a frenzied rage, a volatile disaster. you have to duck your head to avoid a deadly swing, and swat away a vigorous jab coming for your stomach. "ack!"

dan heng attempts to curb his wild tail, securing it with his hands. "down!"

that one word traps the tail under a spell. with its freedom torn, the end of the tail slithers back and forth, as if dejected.

“... can i still pet it?”

“no,” dan heng promptly shuts you down. your head lowers in disappointment. “don’t spoil it.”

“but it's turning red. should it be doing that?”

dan heng shoos you. “just leave for a bit. it will calm down eventually.”

“you’re sure?”

dan heng nods.

“i was talking to your tail.”

dan heng sighs. “please. just for a few minutes.”

you shrug your shoulders, getting off his bed. “if you say so—uh?”

you swear you were standing up a few seconds ago. how did the door turn into the ceiling?

you get up again, and it’s like deja vu when you blink. nice to meet you again, ceiling. how have you been since the last few seconds that passed? you have a clue on who the criminal is.

“about me leaving,” you tug at the tail manacled around your waist. with how strong the grip is, you might be chained to dan heng's room for eternity. “you’re really sure?”

no response. dan heng’s back faces you, a wall that separates. despite being in the same space, he seems to exist in another plane.

you sit up. “dan heng?”

another stifling silence passes. it is unnaturally uncomfortable, like shuffling into a recluse corner in an empty room. and when there’s nothing for your ears to hone in on, you can only examine with your eyes for hints. he’s tugging at his trousers again.

moving closer to inspect, hesitant, you brush his hair behind his ear. they are burning bright red. skin searing hot. “you’re burning up?”

dan heng rubs his arm. “it’s…” he starts, “could you stay for a bit longer?"

in the months that you have gotten to know dan heng, this is a rare moment that shines golden. “you’re sure?”

“i’m sure this time.”

although he prefers to keep to himself, you appreciate when he does decide to rely on you. you quickly clamp your mouth shut to stop a smile from spreading.

his tail shudders, excited. gradually, it glides across your leg, searching, as if hunting for treasure.

“... do you need help?” you tease.

“what?”

you point at dan heng’s tail. “i think it’s trying to get in my pants.”

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

3. taste of flesh w.c. ~750

content: blade is jus a zombie cat who doesn't wanna hurt you, also why is this kinda angsty

what’s with the ominous cardboard box in your house?

approaching it, you find a sleepy blade hiding in the isolated space, much too tiny for his size. he gazes up at you, reminding you more of a cat rather than a zombie. “...?”

“what are you doing here?” you ruffle his hair, petting him and scratching his chin. he leans into your touch, eyes shut, almost dozing off again in your hand. “let’s wake up now, hm?”

when your warm fingers leave him, the cold air that manifests reminds him of what he was trying to avoid. to your disappointment, blade hunches over again, burying himself into the box. whatever is concerning him must be pretty significant.

“what’s up?” you crouch down, frowning. “aren’t you hungry?”

“... no,” blade replies, his voice muffled.

a stomach suddenly growls.

as demonstrated, zombies aren't good liars, especially when it concerns their hunger. blade follows true to this formula. he loves meat, though you worry about the blood pouring from the almost-rawness he indulges in.

you piece the puzzle together. meat. blade loves meat… blade. blade is a zombie… zombie? zombies eat…

“do i need to kill someon–”

“no,” blade catches on. “it’s nothing…” he seems to be gnawing at something.

“nonsense,” you reject his disregard for himself, scowling. you pull at his wrist but immediately stop at the sight of indents on his arm. bite marks. “blade... don’t hurt yourself. if you need something, please tell me.”

blade wouldn’t say it, but you had a feeling.

you bet your unwavering trust in him. “do you want to try mine? not sure if i’m tasty, but it’s something.” slowly, you trace along your neck, insisting.

blade shivers, starved eyes lingering. the manifestation of his hunger falters from your face to the slope of your neck. “no…”

blade clenches his eyes shut.

it’s all wrong.

fragments of memories flicker.

the pedalling of an ouroboros machinates his body. the threads of life weave his limbs back together, strung his muscles fiber by fiber, and pale, rotted fabric for skin stitched like patchwork. sewed together to amass a destructive creation. poured the cursed golden liquor—the mara—and it branched like neurons into his departed body.

the air freezes. a hollow shadow watches you. it is hard to read his eyes. you cannot trace it and it unnerves you. it’s as if you are meeting him for the first time again.

from the grave he rose. an insatiable hunger in his blackened guts. a hoarse throat that itched. naive prey wandered over to him. then, their body fell.

his hand crawls onto your back, digging his fingers. he leans his weight onto you and your bodies fall, tumbling to the floor.

the moon who awoke when the sun slept; the sea who yearned to walk the earth—he was unnatural. those hideous impulses he submerged deep within his depths, locked away in his body like a tomb. confined it with pure restraint, dashed the key away to seal his horrors.

a thumb feathers over the pulse in your neck.

but in this moment, the forbidden unlocks.

hot breaths sterilise your skin. you shut your eyes.

… nothing comes.

blade’s lips are parted but his teeth do not move. you feel a light suction on your neck, an amateur's kiss, then, the light pelting of his wet tongue over the tender patch of skin. just like a cat. his hand rubs circles on your back. “...sorry.”

“...sorry.”

“sorry.”

blade mumbles a million more apologies, each one wrapped and tied together with a peck, tending to an imaginary wound.

“i’m fine,” you console, “see?” you hold your hands up, urging him to take a proper look at you.

he moves his head, scrutinising you. and blade wouldn’t say it, but his eyes tell it all. there’s an aching in your heart.

you look at the ceiling, glueing and crafting your phrases. you take a deep breath. “... nothing's wrong with you.”

you give a small smile. you have no idea if these are the words he wants to hear—you can't read minds. but it is enough for you if the words can reignite a flame.

the construction of your words were planned for, but it spills out anyways, loose and natural. “go chase the winds, perhaps eat another bowl of rice, or being proud about getting out of bed. you deserve to exist as you are, however you want to, so go do whatever your heart pleases.”

blade doesn’t respond; the silence is what his heart desires. so you let him rest his anxiousness to the soothing lullaby of your pulse, reassuring him that you are alive.

with your encouragement, he becomes the moon and sea, as well as the sun and earth; blade exists. as natural as can be.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

4. triple threat w.c. 853

content: *taps mic* triple jing yuan *cheering*

“drat, i forgot to buy toilet paper for luocha.” you close the cabinet, sighing.

“i know just the solution,” jing yuan’s voice chirps to answer your worries. he sits by the window, chin resting on his hand. his smile perks up, eyes melting from his lifted cheeks, when your eyebrows elevate to declare your interest. “i do this all the time.”

“what do you mean?”

he clicks his fingers, and you’ve seen this before. in an instant, another jing yuan spawns, clipping through your floor like a video game.

you frown. that seems painful. “is he okay?” you walk over to recently birthed jing yuan who wears an irritated expression, a stark contrast to original jing yuan. the hand you offer to him is taken up and you root jing yuan no.2 out of the floor.

however, the hand you offer is swatted away just as quickly. you raise an eyebrow at jing yuan no.2 who rolls his eyes.

your eye twitches. “why is he so mean?” the difference between them is like day and night.

“careful, dear,” original jing yuan wraps his arm around your shoulder. “hmm, i’m not as well rested as i thought. my energy must be low.”

“meaning?”

“to preserve my energy, every new clone seems to inhabit less of my power and is further from the original me. although, their thoughts and memories should remain intact.”

“oh.” you hum, eyeing the other jing yuan. “well. welcome to my haunted house, evil jing yuan.”

evil jing yuan crosses his arms, glaring at you. “what an insulting entrance, to be assisted by…” he looks you up and down. “a human,” he sneers.

“hey, what’s your problem?” you retort.

before you could shed any blood, jing yuan steps in. “there is no need to direct your anger at anyone else but me,” jing yuan replies to his evil counterpart, “i apologise for my mishandling.”

evil jing yuan spits out the foul taste in his mouth, “reducing the aura of my sheer power by delegating me to redundant errands. you are foolish, jing yuan.”

“but aren’t you also jing yuan?” you point out.

he rolls his eyes. “ugh.”

you shrug your shoulders, sighing. “what now?”

jing yuan rubs his chin. “what if i did this?” he clicks his fingers.

you are unimpressed when one more jing yuan climbs through your window–why is everyone attracted to your window these days? the newest jing yuan wears an overenthusiastic smile.

“didn’t you say you have to conserve your energy?” you side-eye jing yuan.

jing yuan whistles innocently. he really would do anything to avoid being productive. within the time this all happened, you are sure someone could’ve dropped into the shop down the street and got some toilet paper.

“yikes,” evil jing yuan’s lips pucker, tasting the sourness of the newbie’s presence.

the happy jing yuan beams, jogging over, “evil jing yuan!(that’s just his name now, you realise) how i’ve missed yooouuu- a-aah!” evil jing yuan pinches happy jing yuan’s cheek.

“do not touch me, vermin.” evil jing yuan spews caustic acid.

“boo, no fun.”

although happy jing yuan adopted jing yuan’s friendliness, you immediately notice the wide discrepancy.

“you’re really energetic.” you identify the exaggerated flaw—it’s like playing spot the difference. this jing yuan had enough vigor to last a whole day, when original jing yuan would be sleeping through 60% of it.

happy jing yuan eyebrow perks at your voice. a glint of recognition shines in his eyes. “oh? wait, i know you.”

“you do?”

“of course! you're jing yuan's favouri–yeowch!” evil jing yuan stomps on happy jing yuan’s foot.

“huh?” you turn to jing yuan, searching for answers. he turns his head to the side, hand covering his mouth. his ears are flushing red. it is a rare sight to see such innocence undermine the confident lion. you can’t help but feel flustered as well.

“ugh, embarrassing.” evil jing yuan’s face contorts, nauseated. “why would you reveal that?” he rolls his eyes again. he must be well-acquainted with the back of his head from how often he rolls those eyes.

happy jing yuan only laughs, scratching his head. “haha. i forgot we are all the same person, haha. sorry, my fellow jing yuans.”

that confession basically spoke for three jing yuans. this information, you didn’t know what to do with it other than wanting to shrivel as you feel their gazes suddenly burn holes into you.

happy jing yuan winks at you, taking your hand in his. “but i'm your favourite, right~?”

“wha-?”

evil jing yuan clears his throat. “as if. clearly, i outshine everyone—even an eyeless shrimp knows that.” he smirks, linking your other arm with his. “come, we shall rule the universe together! hahaha!”

jing yuan hugs you from behind, partaking in the senseless tug of war. “you said one was enough last time,” his voice blew in your ear, “you’re being greedy.”

“please guys, one at a time,” you joke, “i’m literally sandwiched here.” you might have to wrestle your way out.

with no toilet paper, luocha sat in the bathroom for a long time.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

5. the office w.c. ~1168

READ MEEE!!! GUYS there's a part (you will DEFINITELY know which) that is stripped from one of my old wattpad stories, no editing just pure cringe written from ages ago. i died re-reading it and it will kill you too but the idea was funny

“hey, hey,” qingque playfully pokes your arm, rousing you from the clutches of sleep. “wake up, sleepyhead.”

you catch your head before it slips off. “say what now?”

countless feet shuffle in the office, stomping an ominous anthem—a thing of nightmares. your spine shoots up immediately, positioning you in a battle-ready stance prepped for war. fixing your uniform, your armour shines radiantly as you equip your weapon of choice in your hand: a forged doctor’s note in case you are accused of slacking off.

“everyone, i have news,” fu xuan, your supervisor, the master diviner of xianzhou’s divination commission–a very short person–announces, “starting today, a new matrix manager will join us. please offer him your warmest welcomes.”

you rub your disbelieving eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. “wait a minute.”

the new manager corrects his slanting head.

you inhale a sharp breath. “i forgot to lock the door.”

“hm?” qingque taps on her phone, eyes glued to a game of celestial jade.

“if master fu xuan asks for my whereabouts, tell her i’m in the toilet!”

“where are you–”

the gears in your legs propel you forward, fueled by your adrenaline. slamming the head office door open, you meet the familiar sight, playing pretend in formal divination attire with a silver pair of thin-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. most prominently, his hair is jet-black instead of golden. overall, a 10/10 disguise. his hands comb through papers with the mastery as he remains deaf to your outburst.

“luocha?”

the flipping of pages responds to you.

you march forward, rasping your knuckles on the desk. knock, knock.

this earns you a stinging glare. “i do not appreciate you making a scene.” luocha(?) finally acknowledges your existence. “you should be at your desk working.”

you place your hands on your hips. “and you, should be at home.”

his eyes wander over to the door, waiting. when nothing more happens, he beckons you with a finger, signalling you to close the distance.

you lift an eyebrow. you tread over, standing in front of him. “here?”

that is when you notice that it wasn't numbers and charts he was reading. in his hands were endless pages upon pages of… pictures of his coffin? that probably explains why the photocopier in the office broke this morning.

luocha grips his heart. “i have infiltrated the enemy’s base today to reclaim what was rightfully mine. oh, how the days were peaceful until tragedy struck.”

“what did you do this time…” you sigh. “are you saying that the divination commission, for whatever reason, has your coffin?”

luocha nods.

you scratch your cheek. the only fear you have is fu xuan snagging you in her talons if she catches you, but you can’t leave luocha alone lest you want to testify to a rampaging elephant. moreover, you were always curious about what lies in the coffin. corpses? treasure? an earphone you lost years ago? maybe this will serve as a good opportunity to finally ask. you come to a decision. “i’ll help. but you’ll go straight home after this.”

“okay!” luocha smiles enthusiastically. you almost fall over from how quick he pulls your hand.

after the agreement, you find yourselves wandering a corridor in search of luocha’s beloved coffin. surprisingly, it didn’t take much time before you both located the "x" on the map. almost like you were mere pawns roaming a chessboard according to a calculated plan. that begs the question: who is the mastermind stringing you along?

entering an empty meeting room, a coffin stands at attention, a lone soldier in the battlefield of fallen papers, pens as spears, and a whiteboard which has endured countless cleavings of ink on its body.

you pat the coffin. “that was easier than i thought.”

“indeed.” luocha grazes his finger along the intricate carvings.

out of the blue, you hear familiar footsteps. your body grows stiff. “someone’s outside…!”

“here.” he shoves you into the coffin and follows suit, secluding you in his arms. you gasp when his leg nudges in between your thighs.

the tiny space doesn’t allow you much freedom apart from staring at luocha’s face and being acutely aware of everything that was happening downstairs. you try not to think about it. try not to think at all.

unbeknownst to you, luocha monitors your everything: how you cast hesitant glances, mumbling hot breath that kisses his cheek. while you are trying to distract yourself, he is entirely focused.

luocha breaks the silence. “... it’s hot in here.”

“???”

the unknown figure is approaching. your heart is playing to the beat of each sinister step.

“shhh, quiet,” luocha says something reasonable this time.

you hold your breath. the rough grumblings of a voice vibrate through the coffin and you can recognise that voice in your sleep. “not here.” fu xuan is hunting for your blood, claws sharp.

her heels turn and click when she is left unsatisfied. the coast is clear and the tension you held in alleviates. you glance at luocha, expecting him to be equally embarrassed.

but you are met with a knowing smirk. something about this feels suspiciously like a book trope.

you clear your throat. “we’re safe now.”

luocha nods. opening the coffin, you both try to untangle your intertwined limbs.

“could you move your right leg?” you ask.

“i’m trying.”

“okay, i’ll just hold onto your arm for a bit…”

“that’s my arse.”

“oops, sorry—!”

you trip on something but luocha safely catches your arm in the nick of time. looking down, you realise that there are a bunch of books spilled on the floor.

you look at luocha who gives a hesitant smile.

in the monotonous pile of words and pages, one clearly stood out. one that you swore to oblivion. you feel your soul claw its way out of the suffocating entrapment of your body, your mouth hung open, not the forbidden collection…

‘secret affairs in the office: uh oh, i’m in love with my boss!’

… shit.

no wonder this situation felt familiar.

——

“Shhh, quiet.”

… I shouldn’t be doing this with my boss.

We're so close that I think we exchange breaths with each other, tangled in this small space of ours. I cringe as he leans into my ear, his black hair falling. “It’s hot in here,” he breathes. The hairs on my neck stand erect.

I face my fears when I glare back at him. He'll be exploring every nook and cranny of my body with the way he stares back, hungrily, on the prowl for my bare skin. His rough hands tug at my shirt.

I smirk. “What are you waiting for then? Undress me.”

——

you wish you didn’t remember that.

“did you like it? i heard the office trope is very popular with humans.”

you lightly thwack luocha’s head with the book, cheeks hot. “what on earth were you thinking?”

“oh, we haven’t done the next part—”

“we are not doing that!” you quickly shut him down. “we’re going home!” and you’ll make sure to burn every single book.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

6. what if w.c. 320

after another day of work, you could not wait to get home soon. you open the door. entering. turning on the lights.

flick.

sighing, you throw your bag off your shoulders, stretching your arms. you want to catch up on sleep, but the stress of tomorrow’s agenda ravages your mind. you hum as you think of what to do next, filling the bars of silence with your melody. dinner, probably.

you head into the kitchen and open the fridge. songlotus cake, puffergoat milk, berrypheasant skewers... why is there so much rice? it's like someone is telling you to eat another bowl or two.

let’s try reading a book. grabbing a cushion and a random book off the shelf, you sit by the coffee table on the floor. you flick through the contents: dragons, zombies, lions, changelings. these old tales, how boring. does anyone actually believe in these superstitions? you yawn.

when you lean back, you accidentally press on the tv remote. the screen is brought to life. "oh..." you turn it off. after all, no one is watching tv. glancing at the clock, you realise it’s already close to bedtime. you should run a bath and get ready to sleep.

making your way over, you almost trip over something. huh? yet, there's nothing on the floor. you shrug your shoulders. you head to your bedroom to find your change of clothes. however, the task is difficult when your room is a complete mess. where did you put your pajamas again?

as if on command, in the corner of your eye, a drawer slide opens. “...what?”

walking over, you find your pajamas in the drawer. you scan the corners of your room.

... it must be the wind. what else could it... be?

after your bath, you lay on your bed, comfortably settled. you stare at the ceiling, slowly counting the seconds until your eyes close.

the house is quiet as usual. peaceful.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

7. hotpot party! w.c. ~1165

“hot!” you fan the congee in your mouth, eyes tearing. dan heng sighs, handing you a napkin. “hot... hotpot… hotpot…?” slowly, the burning congee helps you recover an important memory: “it’s hotpot night!”

“hotpot?” jing yuan turns away from the tv.

“...hot…pot…” blade wakes up.

“h-o-t-p-o-t.” luocha robotically dances.

the bell rings, and you are relieved that it wasn’t the smashing of a window when you greet the ghost-hunters.

“hey!” feixiao gleams, flashing a smile. in her hands are bags of ingredients, you assume, noticing the spring onions sticking out. “we’re here for hotpot!”

“i’ll just borrow your kitchen to heat it up,” jiaoqiu quips.

moze nods at you as you let them enter. but you are too late to warn them when you hear the unison of feixiao and jiaoqiu’s screaming, “g-g-ggg-gg-ggghosts!!!”

“hey, that's rude,” jing yuan says, “after you trespassed into our house too.”

“wait… general?” feixiao points at jing yuan. “weren't you one of the arbiter generals? you’re real? you’re like, one of my biggest idols!”

“uuuhhhh…nooo…” jing yuan averts his eyes, hiding behind luocha. “quick luocha, do something.”

luocha stops chewing on the hair of an agitated blade, concentrating. channelling the strength of his spiritual ancestors to reach new levels of enlightenment, he poofs into a chair (why). blade reaches for his sword.

dan heng weaves through the chaos, finding you at the front door. he leans against the wall, arms crossed. “you didn’t invite more people than this, did you? it’s already so noisy.”

“uuuhhhh... nooo…” you guiltily look away from his interrogating eyes which accuse you. just then, the bell rings again and you open it excitedly. “huohuo! you made it!”

“it’s good to see you again.” huohuo smiles, eyes softening from the rise of her cheeks. by her side are qingque and…

“master fu xuan?!” your heart soars to your throat, astonished by the great, but still short, presence of the master diviner.

“ahaha, sorry,” qingque rubs the back of her head. “the master diviner insisted on coming to check that i wasn’t slacking off.”

fu xuan nods. “qingque said you are hosting a productive meeting on how to strategize for the chartings of ship routes via the jade abacus, and its convergence into predicting future prospects. i have high expectations for your discussions.”

you and qingque stare at each other.

“hmph, what a waste of time,” tail grunts. “mingling with a bunch of peasants, i should get paid for gracing you all with my presence.”

“good to see you too, tail,” you reply. the group head inside.

"hey, hey?!!" you hear more of jiaoqiu’s shouting, "the house will burn down!"

“that’s actually a ghost this time,” jing yuan notes.

suddenly, a wave of heat blasts everyone. “the term ghost," tail roars with the rage of a thousand suns, "cannot be compared to the heliobus race!”

thunder strikes. you gasp.

jing yuan walks to the door, eager. “that must be my friend.” the door opens but no one is there. he gestures towards something in the sky, behind the house. you walk outside, dan heng following shortly.

it is lightning(-wielding thunder-clapping spirit-squashing) lord. they wave at you, magnificent and bright.

“how will lightning lord eat hotpot with us?” dan heng inquires, genuinely confused.

jing yuan waves his hand, dismissing dan heng’s worries. “it’s fine. they're just here for vibes.”

when did old jing yuan learn slang? “oh, okay. if they don’t mind.” you wave with two arms at the giant.

out of the blue, a cold breath trickles down your neck. “hello…”

you are startled, realising someone blue was behind you all this time. her sluggish, bent posture and slow manner of speaking—it reminds you of someone.

“uurk… who invited grandma over??” jing yuan slips behind you.

behind the lethargic “grandma”, another blue person pops out. “good evening, general. and friends.” he greets politely.

you wave your hand. “oh, another friend of jing yuan?”

jing yuan frowns. “how do you not know who he is? he’s our kid.”

“what do you mean ‘our kid’...” you glare at jing yuan, lifting an eyebrow. recounting the numerous stories, you close your eyes in contemplation. “if i remember correctly, you must be yanqing?”

the kid nods, confirming. “thanks for inviting us over.”

you attend to the other blue person. “and this is…”

“jingliu… you made it…” blade is at the front door. he trudges over, wiping the sleep away from his eyes. “why don’t you…come in…”

“thank you… i… love hotpot…” her head bobbles, trailing inside. “thank you… thanks… thank…”

yanqing assists jingliu. “let’s get you inside, grandma.”

you ask, “was that your zombie friend, blade?”

“yes… cool friend…” blade glares at jing yuan.

“what? she tried to kill me once!” jing yuan exclaims.

another roaring claps in the distance. it captures your attention.

what in tarnation…

“my people!” luocha dashes out the door, waving all too happily at the concerning amount of elephants rushing your way, about to bulldoze your house down. where are the elephants even coming from in xianzhou luofu??

you shake luocha’s shoulders as he chants ‘elephants, elephants, elephants!’. “why did you summon a stampede of elephants?! can they even eat hotpot??”

“haha, no idea,” luocha scratches his neck. blade flicks him on the head. luocha dramatically doubles over, holding a hand out at the elephants and under his silent command, they immediately halt. “they’re well-behaved, they mean no harm.”

“uh, i guess this is okay.” you wave at the elephants, their trunks waving back. “how about you dan heng, did you invite anyone over?”

dan heng observes the sky, silent for a moment.

you notice his melancholic expression as he points towards a bright streak slicing across the night like a shooting star “they’re busy travelling the universe.” he smiles. “so they can’t make it today.”

“oh?” these must be the dreams he spoke of. so it was real after all. you wave at the sky, hoping that his friends receive your greeting. “another time, then. we’ll have so many hotpots nights from now on, they are sure to come over for at least one of them.”

his eyes glimmer, the end of his tail wagging.

feixiao calls from inside the house, “hotpot is ready!”

“that’s our cue,” you declare, herding a dragon, zombie, lion, and a changeling all back inside. of course, it is met with difficulty as they try not to tear at each other for bumping shoulders, or when jing yuan craftily pinches some butts and blade pulls out a rifle(thanks for the gift feixiao).

before you join the festivities, you notice a crystal flake falling on your sleeve. frosty winds bite at your body, and you witness how your breath fumes into clouds. looking up at the darkening sky, you admire the white confetti announcing winter’s entrance.

then, you study the scene in your haunted house. it’s hell, and it’s chaotic as usual. you laugh. and like magic, you are warm again.

you close the door.

⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(¬ ´ཀ` )¬⋆⁺₊⋆♱♡♱⋆⁺₊⋆(┛〃°Д°)┛⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊

some art i scribbled ٩(･ิᴗ･ิ๑)۶

what i imagined for office luocha ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) (my apology to luocha fans)

a/n: i wanted to finish writing this way sooner but life amirite guys(ﾉД`) a lot did change from what i originally planned, but! i'm biting the bullet and finally posting this so that i can move onto something new! that one part in luocha's story... save me from the cringe... and no i will not be posting the rest of my wattpad story, that is torture ill be posting an update later abt my next work(hopefully)!!! stay tuned~ thanks for reading! ☆⌒ヽ(*'､^*)

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #how is it already close to christmas #my braain melttinggg #uuhghunscunvrirmeji49jinjvbtr

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saythatuwill · 3 months ago

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dating android!noah ♡ hcs/thoughts . . .

now playing : stereo hearts // gym class heroes tags: @fadingangelwisp

i know what you're thinking. his model is literally meant to be an "ideal romantic partner". technically he's just programmed to love you!

but things got more complicated when you put those music android parts in. not only did he develop his own little smartass attitude, he became quite a bit more vulnerable to sentience. and falling in love with you. hell, you're the reason he went sentient in general.

not following his programming is weird, he's not just following a program anymore, he's very... real. now he has to figure out how to express love in a way that's less artificial. how to express his adoration towards you.

it started before one of the shows in europe. that little android metal band really took off, you got to travel everywhere with your boys, and free time often allowed for everyone to get out and explore. it allowed for walks, just you and noah.

he noticed you looking at something in the window at a little shop in the city. he'd pretended to be indifferent of where they were, but he was already scanning the price of it, determined to prove his appreciation.

lord knows how he got the money for it (he likely accessed YOUR bank account), but after the show on the tour bus, he presented it to you. chest puffed out, but when you took it from him you could tell he was nervous by the way his body involuntarily twitched and glitched.

but then you smiled. you smiled. and noah's eyes lit up, in a way you'd never seen before. a far cry from his usual lightless, narrowed-eye gaze.

he wants to make you smile like that forever.

so he tries to do things for you all the time now. laundry? he'll do it for you! tired? he'll wash your hair! not in the mood to talk? no problem. he'll keep you company in comfortable silence. anything to make you smile. (and boy, does it work).

he's not the most physically affectionate (since... that was pretty much all he knew programming wise and he doesn't really fw that) but he does his best! he's working himself up to physical touch, and being patient with you on it too.

the first purely romantic gesture he worked himself up to was a forehead kiss. the first time he did it you were STUNNED. he goes out of his way to move your hair out of the way, gentle touch as if you're porcelain. the forehead kiss is never a quick thing, he leans in slow, lets his lips linger for a second.

noah does this all the time now. he's finding new ways to do it. he loves the way your skin feels against his lips, so he's finding any excuse he can to kiss your forehead.

he likes the way your skin feels against his, period. sure, his skin was designed to feel like human skin but is actually synthetic, but his entire body has touch sensors. thank god for that.

let him hold your hand! touch knees with you, rest your head on his chest while you sleep, hold him in your arms! PLEASE!!!

very protective over you, you're HIS person. and he will TELL PEOPLE. like this is deadass him.

hand on the small of your back when you're in public, using his height to his advantage to tower over anyone who fucks with you. scary dog privilege. scares anyone off that he doesn't get a good feeling from. (and he has SENSORS for that sort of thing).

good thing about being with a romantic partner model? body heating and cooling. when you're cold, he's like your personal space heater. hot in the summer? he's like the best ice cube on the planet.

anyone up for a boyfriend that looks and acts like a black cat most of the time, but it's a front for how much of a golden retriever he can be? that's him!

after a show one night, you told him he did a good job. if he'd had a tail, it would have been fucking wagging. it was like he hadn't done a show at all, fired up and full of energy, and of course you got a few kisses from it.

he likes to deny that he did that at all. but every time you compliment him or praise him, no matter how hard he tries to act like he doesn't care and get all huffy about it, he cannot hide that smile.

oh and dont forget how happy he is to show you off. as HIS. he will literally wear a matching outfit with you out in public if it means he can parade you around all proudly. very "look at my s/o. that's my s/o! you wish you could be them, but you can't."

he needs to learn about your interests. he has to. it starts with your favorite music, he wants to learn the songs so he can sing them to you.

at sundown one summer night, you leaned against noah as he played guitar, singing your favorite songs to you softly. it was in your backyard, golden rays on your skin, your boyfriend admiring the way the light catches on your hair. no emotion in his eyes but he may as well have been short-circuiting over how beautiful you are.

then it's hobbies. it doesn't matter WHAT it is. gardening? he'll learn to garden! cooking? consider it done, he's already pretty good at it because it was part of his programming. something art related? ... okay that might be a little difficult. he'll try it for you though.

he just wants to be able to get happy and excited about the things you enjoy with you.

noah doesn't know how to say it out loud, but he loves you. so much. he loves you with every fiber of his being. he just hopes it shows despite the snarky indifferent mask he puts on.

it does. ♡

#♡ au: androids #♡ sherry's work #android!noah #android!noah thoughts #noah sebastian x reader #noahsebastian #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction #badomenscult #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian davis #noah bad omens #noah sebastian fic

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snuggleboots · 1 year ago

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₊˚♡˚₊ The Akatsuki, communicating their love ₊˚♡˚₊

₊˚♡˚₊ feat. Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, and Hidan ₊˚♡˚₊

Tags: Fluff, mishmash of random headcanons, general cutesy relationship stuff.

♡ Kisame communicates his love in various ways, but it's always most sincere in the little things he does. If you're both walking up a flight of stairs, he'll always walk behind, just so he can steal a kiss without having to lean down a bit to reach you. Usually, he'll follow that up with a stupid little, 'How's it feel to be the tall one for once?'

♡ He's a man who likes to sleep in, but when you're sleeping with him, it's his god-given duty to wake you up with some combination of stupid, sleepy shenanigans. It typically starts with some needlessly aggressive cuddling while he's waking up, which becomes a smattering of kisses and little nips dealt wherever he can reach, and eventually develops into... either cackling over your groggy irritation or moving into a little extra lovin', if you feel up to it.

♡ Cuteness aggression is a real thing, and it's his curse. If your tongue pokes out just a little bit when you're thinking hard or focused on something, if you flex your toes like a little cat when you stretch, or purse your lips when you're frustrated - he's gonna bite you. Always does. He can't help it, he gets the impulse to squish you, bite you, pinch, or bully you a little bit when you're minding your business, doing things that he finds objectively precious. You make his teeth itch when he catches you off guard, and you flash him those big eyes, and- UGH.

♡ Now, he isn't the perfect listener by any means, but Kisame is very attentive when tiffs happen in the relationship. He listens with the full intention to learn and solve the problem, and if things get a bit heated he'll calm himself down and ask you to back up and explain why you're upset. He doesn't make a habit of taking himself too seriously, which really helps him navigate rough patches well.

♡ Your personal space is his preferred space. You're stretched out, reading a book or resting your eyes? It doesn't matter where you're hanging out, that's still just as good as an invitation in his books. When he saunters on over and nonchalantly plonks his entire body weight on top of you, he doesn't even have the courtesy to say sorry for the disturbance. Nope, he's on a mission, hooking his arms around your waist and just burying his face in your belly. You're warm, you smell so nice, and he's livin' large on cloud nine, which means you're stuck there until he's decided he's had his fill for a bit.

♡ Itachi's a man with simple wants and simple displays of love. If your days are busy and he's tucking into bed before you are, he'll cosy up on your side to keep it warm until you're ready to join him for the night. It's a little silly, a little cute, watching a man like him streeeetch right out when you meander into the bedroom, and unceremoniously shimmy back over to his side before settling in and promptly passing out. That is, however, a quiet little token of his affection.

♡ He's perceptive about things you don't enjoy doing, and especially things you tend to stress about. Without so much as mentioning it, he'll tend to the little things like that just to take them off your plate. If you're sick or in pain, Itachi is more than content to take care of you. Sorry, it's a small facet of who he is, to tend to the very few people he cares about. The man also cooks, and pretty damned well at that. His breakfasts are a cure-all when you're feeling like absolute garbage.

♡ There is such a thing as an 'Uchiha pout', and he weaponizes it for petty reasons and to ridiculous extents. He isn't always just some stone-faced caricature of a stoic, and it's brilliantly displayed when you deny his simple requests, such as relaxing after a long day, curled up on the couch with him when he's having a low-energy, no spoons left kind of day.

♡ Yes, he wants to settle his weight into your side and just be - or better yet, rest his head on your shoulder and soak up some easy, effortless affection until he's feeling a bit better. (Please card your fingers through his hair, he won't nod off again, really-) If you really have the audacity to say no - and he will call it that - you're going to see him purse his lips, pinch his brows and angle his face away from you like some kind of disappointed housecat. 'You make me lonely', he'll halfheartedly mumble, because it's a guilt trip that works and he's fully aware of that fact. No, he does not feel bad about it, either.

♡ Kakuzu's 'love language' exists in subtle acts of service and physical touch, generally shared in private. No, he's not going to say he loves you, but he can show you that your presence doesn't irritate the part of his brain that makes him want to shove his fist through someone's skull.

♡ When the seasons turn and you inevitably wind up freezing cold every goddamn night, he's content to settle beside you on the couch and tuck your chilly feet under his leg while he unwinds with a good book. There's no need to fill the silence, just let it be and enjoy the moment. You're cosy, he's relatively happy, and for all intents and purposes, you two are set to have a wonderful, quiet night.

♡ And since Kakuzu's a habitual early riser, you're typically still snoring long after he's up and ready for the day. When it's time for him to get up and get dressed, he'll flop his blanket - because he sure as hell doesn't share one - over your head before he turns on the light to get dressed. When he's done and the light's out he'll pull it down and be on his way without having disturbed your sleep.

♡ On the odd time that you're waking up with him, he'll slip by while you're getting dressed and steal a kiss to your shoulder.

♡ When his nail polish is chipped and it's time to reapply, he'll let you do it. For one, it's less for him to do, but! It's also a little token of trust on his part to toss you the polish, plop his hand in your lap, and grumble something like, 'Don't paint my damn fingers this time'. You probably still manage to flood his cuticles, which he will grumble about, but it's the thought that counts.

♡ Hidan's love can sometimes be compared to that of a fat, obnoxious housecat. If he's off-duty when you're trying to enjoy some free time, he is firmly wedged up your ass because he likes attention and you actually listen to him when he talks about... whatever's bouncing around in his head.

♡ Lounging on the couch when he's just coming in from a month on the road? Haha, sucks to be you actually, because he's instantly ripping through the living room at terminal velocity, with full intentions of divebombing your sorry ass before you have the chance to scramble up and evade him. You're still wheezing from impact, and this guy's already launching into a tirade about every little gripe he's had about his mission. 'Kakuzu was a dick, the ration bars taste like shit, the coil broke on my scythe and, and, and...'

♡ Hidan loves a good late-night hangout, so he's usually around to burn time with you when you can't sleep. Even when you don't feel like talking, he always fills the silence himself by chatting your ear off about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it's just life stuff, other times it's his interests - and often, he'll animorph into a used cars salesman for Jashinism. You expect it, he loves that you actually listen and engage with him.

♡ 'You only get to die if you lived, no matter how great or shitty your life was, get it? Seeing the end is a privilege', he'll mutter into the lip of a half-full mug. When you're tired at the table, jolting upright after accidentally dozing off for the fifth time during his proselytizing, Hidan will slide you a cup of something that'll keep you fucking wired for the night. It's not to be a dick, obviously, but you're listening! And this is important shit! 'Diseased, crippled, or fuckin'... broke; at the end of the day, you're alive, and your pain's recognised by Lord Jashin. Suffering is a gift imparted, that only the living receive, and...' something something Jashin is great, and you should probably definitely convert.

♡ He's claimed half of your bed, and sleeping with him fucking sucks. He sleeps like a starfish and steals the blankets, and you're not waking him up unless you feel like investing some serious effort into doing so. He snores, and on the nights that he winds up sleeping half on top of you, you have to deal with the fact that he drools like a dog and sleeps with his mouth hanging open. You don't wanna deal with that? Tough shit, you're comfy, and somehow your bed is just waaaaay better than his. Okay? Okay.

#akatsuki #naruto #kakuzu #hidan #itachi #kisame #writing tag #hcs #reader insert #akatsuki x reader #kakuzu x reader #hidan x reader #itachi x reader #kisame x reader #meant to do the rest but my brain refused to write the others #they'll get their own post at some point probs

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catbolt · 6 months ago

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—✩ INFO + MASTERLIST

[ABOUT] cat, 24, she/her, sylus main writing for LADS <3

generally exclusively write for sylus, but may occasionally write for other LIs

writing leans towards angst or fluff with some smut (minors do not interact please!)

i only write reader/mc with female anatomy and use she/her pronouns for reader/mc in all my stories

[REQUESTS] selective, but feel free to shoot any ideas you might have my way. no guarantees i'll write it, but always open to being inspired!

[MASTERLIST] AO3

general writing tag - all fics, misc. drabbles

♡ - personal favorite!

— SYLUS

florida kilos - fluff, mild angst, brief smut, slice of life (1.2k) ♡ pretty - angst, smut (5.1k) resonance - smut, fluff (3k) sylus headcanons (part 1, 2, 3) - fluff, nsfw

— ZAYNE

merry christmas, dr. zayne - fluff (1.3k)

— RAFAYEL

crushing - fluff, slice of life, angst if you squint (1k) ♡

— XAVIER

none yet...

— CALEB

none yet...

#heyyy #navi

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macabrewhims · 5 months ago

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◈ ⟣ the crystallized legacy ⟢ ◈

welcome to the crystallized legacy challenge, a 12-generation challenge inspired by birthstones! after making my enneagram challenge, i wanted to create something with all the ideas i had left over, so after a year of toiling, here we are! ik there's other crystals challenges out there and prob already a birthstones challenge, but this is my interpretation ♡ this challenge is definitely more drama and story-heavy than my last challenge, but i hope you guys enjoy the chaos just as much as i do xx

due to the nature of the actual birthstones, colours are repeated. however, i have added lists of the possible variations the stones come in, so you can choose whatever colour you see fit!

RULES:

money cheats are allowed unless otherwise stated (for example, gens 1 and 5)

play on normal lifespan

story prompts are optional. you can use them if you want, but feel free to interpret the rules however you wish—that’s the fun part of playing a challenge!

all goals must be met before moving onto the next heir. unless otherwise stated, you must complete both the career and aspiration.

if you don’t have a pack that goes with a certain skill/aspiration/trait, substitute as you see fit! however, this is easier for some gens than others

optional bonus challenge: have every heir be born during the season associated with their month/stone!

if you play, please credit me! @loyaltrait on instagram & @macabrewhims on tumblr. use the #crystallizedlegacy tag so we can all follow along!

packs majorly used (heavily involved in gameplay and rules): lovestruck, get famous, city living, island living, discover university, growing together, get to work, jungle adventures, for rent, parenthood

packs minorly used (easiest to substitute): eco lifestyle, spa day, snowy escape, outdoor retreat, cats & dogs, seasons, high school years

GEN 1: january / garnet (red)

ASPIRATION: romantic explorer

CAREER: freelancer

TRAITS: lovebug, loyal, maker

garnets symbolise love and vitality, and you are an endless fountain of both. you wear your heart on your sleeve, always looking for the one, but is your eagerness your downfall? after a particularly bad breakup and a particularly good stroke of fate, you learn that you’ve inherited your great-grandaunt’s house, and it happens to be far enough away that you think this can be your fresh start. you vow to put your heartbreak behind you and stop seeking out a relationship, but do old habits die hard?

garnets can come in a wide variety of colours, most notably deep red, as well as blue, pink, green, and orange.

☆ move into an old home with outdated decor and only §10,000. you can only redecorate with money you earn from freelancing or with things you craft

☆ master the romance and entrepreneur skills

☆ have your first child (the heir) unplanned. break up with their other parent when they’re a toddler.

☆ date at least 5 other sims, but never marry

☆ have at least one date per week with whoever your partner is at the time

STORY PROMPTS:

— your crusade to not seek out a relationship has landed you in the middle of someone else’s—you’re an affair partner. do you ditch the cheater or think you can fix them?

— luck and love are never hand-in-hand for you. just when you think you’ve found the one, tragedy strikes and they die. can you let them go, or will that love haunt you for the rest of your life?

GEN 2: february / amethyst (purple)

ASPIRATION: mansion baron

CAREER: business

TRAITS: proper, hates children, romantically reserved

amethysts have long been associated with royalty, so it’s only fitting that you’re just as regal. you watched your parent get their heart broken more times than you can count, and you vow you’ll never be the same. the disdain you have for your chaotic upbringing makes you crave order—and with it, wealth. love has never been a priority to you, nor has family. but money? the closest thing you’ve ever felt to being in love has been watching your bank balance skyrocket.

amethysts are almost always purple.

☆ master the logic and violin skills

☆ gain the workaholic lifestyle

☆ have a child—either adopted or as a science baby—to secure your legacy. and immediately relinquish all parenting responsibilities to the nanny. (this does not have to be your only child)

☆ lecture your child on misbehaviour often and never have a relationship past ‘friends’ and have a “difficult” family dynamic.

☆ marry a sim you have no or very low friendship with

STORY PROMPTS:

— you’re approached one day with the biggest merger possible: marriage. not a real marriage though, don’t worry. there may not be love between you and your spouse, but it’s a great cover for insider trading. that is, if you can keep it loveless.

— your child(ren) is just a vessel for your own goals. you are always harsh on them because you want them to be the best. but do you eventually see the error of your ways and try to ease up on them?

GEN 3: march / aquamarine (teal)

ASPIRATION: city native

CAREER: lawyer

TRAITS: loves outdoors, child of the ocean, creative

like your birthstone, you’ve always felt an affinity with the ocean and its vastness. all you’ve ever wanted was to escape, both the city and your family. you were always pressured to be the best, lest you bring shame to the family name. but after a life of living for others, it finally all comes to a head. the burnout finally gets the best of you and you decide to follow your dreams and move to the beach, getting away from your parents’ clutches once and for all. is this where you finally find happiness?

aquamarines range from soft greens to soft blues.

☆ complete the city native as a young adult before moving to either tartosa or sulani.

☆ master one creative skill of your choice + research and debate

☆ have a bad relationship with your parents and go no contact with them after you move away

☆ meet the love of your life as an adult and have children (as many as you want). you have a permissive relationship with them and spoil them with the love you never had

☆ quit your job when you move and get by on either your partner’s income or money earned from your creative hobby

STORY PROMPTS:

— your poor relationship with your parents has always been suffocating, but you have always craved their acceptance nonetheless. they try to set you up with a business partner’s kid to secure a deal, and you get engaged to please them. do you leave them at the alter or respectfully break it off before you go?

— you take vacations frequently while still living in the city to spare your sanity. while on one of them, you meet a diving instructor and hit it off. do you rekindle things when you finally move or do you seek new beginnings?

GEN 4: april / diamond (white)

ASPIRATION: world famous celebrity

CAREER: athlete

TRAITS: active, self-absorbed, materialistic

you were always the crown jewel of the family: firstborn, spoiled rotten, and killer athletic talent. your parents put you into your chosen sport young, and you were competing at national levels before you even hit puberty, making your professional debut when you were 15. you’re the #1 in the world now, and damn does it feel good. until you fly too close to the sun, that is.

diamonds can come in a variety of colours, but are most commonly clear.

☆ progress quickly in your career and gain status as a global superstar

☆ when you’re at the top of your game, you get too cocky. after a particularly nasty scandal, you get disgraced, losing your career and taking a major hit to your fame.

☆ master the fitness and mixology skills

☆ have a career change as an adult, either business or social media

☆ gradually raise your reputation back with an image change, donating frequently to charities.

STORY PROMPTS:

— losing your career means slowly losing your lavish lifestyle, and you can not let that happen. you quickly find a celebrity partner and marry them. is it all lust and convenience, or is there something deeper there?

— you have a flippant relationship with parenting, you’d rather splash money at your kids than actually parent them. does losing your reputation give you the wake up call you need to be a more present parent?

GEN 5: may / emerald (green)

ASPIRATION: inner peace

CAREER: salaryperson

TRAITS: vegetarian, loner, neat

emeralds are associated with security and balance, and all you’ve ever longed for has been some semblance of order. your parent’s mercurial celebrity status was always a source of stress for you. why couldn’t they just be normal? you turn your back on the world of fame and excess and embrace the mundane: a quiet suburb, an office job, a healthy lifestyle. a simple life. but can your life ever actually be simple?

emeralds vary in shade, but are always green.

☆ move out of your parents’ house with only §15,000 simoleons when you go to university. you must live in a dorm and take out student loans for the duration of your degree

☆ master the piano and wellness skills

☆ move to any suburban world after graduating university and live there for the rest of your life

☆ attend yoga classes at least once a week

☆ have a close relationship with your child(ren) and build them a treehouse

STORY PROMPTS:

— you change your surname after moving out of your parents’ house in an effort not to be seen as a nepo baby. after years in relative obscurity, someone finally picks up on your true lineage, and threatens to blackmail you over it.

— after years of low contact, your parent contacts you to make amends. you find this suspicious but accept anyways, until you learn there’s a catch. what is it and will it strain your relationship further?

GEN 6: june / pearl (white)

ASPIRATION: soulmate

CAREER: astronaut

TRAITS: self-assured, squeamish, practice makes perfect

pearls are often associated with the moon, and most if your childhood was spent staring at the skies in wonder. you liked your quiet life, but you always wanted more. all it takes is one high school career day to cement your dream forever: becoming an astronaut. you train rigorously for your day in space, but just when the dream is finally in reach, you are faced with an impossible choice: love or the stars?

pearls are known for having a shiny, cream-coloured hue, though other colours are possible.

☆ complete at least one child and one teen aspiration

☆ master the rocket science and programming skills

☆ pick between completing your career or completing your aspiration. right before you reach your final promotion, choose between your job or staying with your spouse

☆ meet your spouse young, either as high school sweethearts or in university. they are the only person you ever date

☆ go to sixam and complete the geodes collection

STORY PROMPTS:

— you think you’re doing well at managing your career and your marriage, but you’re oblivious to the obvious cracks and your spouse’s frayed feelings. they are the one to offer you the ultimatum: me or space.

— your youngest child is the “problem” child, and you never seem to get along. no matter what you do, you can’t seem to form a bond with them. but are you really trying as hard as you could be, or are they another casualty of your career blinders?

GEN 7: july / ruby (red)

ASPIRATION: public enemy

CAREER: criminal and then politician

TRAITS: family-oriented, mean, hot-headed (later lose either mean or hot-headed through gameplay)

rubies are the stone of passion, and your passion has always felt all-consuming. as the youngest and least disciplined of your siblings, you were always the firecracker of the family, ready to burst at any moment. no one ever understood you—or so you believed—and it hardened you. a life of crime only seemed like a natural progression to you, until you found someone who saw the good in you and vowed to do anything to protect them and start over. anything.

though rubies are most often red, there are also deep magenta and purple varieties.

☆ have a bad relationship with your parents and move out as a teen to start university early.

☆ major in psychology and choose the criminal career

☆ master the mischief and parenting skills

☆ when you are halfway through your career progression, meet a sim with opposite traits to yours and fall in love. quit your career to give them a safer life and have a family together

☆ while your children are still very young (infants or toddlers), complete the last tier of the public enemy aspiration and witness another sim die. go into “witness protection” and relocate your family as far away as possible. you and your family members must all change your names.

STORY PROMPTS:

— once you are settled in your new life, you find a passion for community organising. you enter the politician career hoping the make a change, but the threat of your past catching up to you is always lingering.

— old habits die hard, and the fiercely protective side of you never goes away. you loathe your child’s partner and think they’re not good enough for them. when your suspicions are proven right, do you dispose of them or leave it to karma?

GEN 8: august / peridot (green)

ASPIRATION: friend of the world

CAREER: social media

TRAITS: high maintenance, kleptomaniac, music lover

peridot is the stone of good fortune, and your parents always called you their lucky charm. you’ve always been, cherished, bubbly, and popular, it’s just in your nature. you love making friends, but more than that, you love attention. you have a natural talent for reeling people in, and realised early that your type of charisma can be…useful. it’s not your fault other people are so easily fooled, is it? perhaps the apple doesn’t fall far enough from the tree, despite your parents’ best efforts…

peridots are a bright green, often with yellow undertones.

☆ master the charisma and photography skills

☆ steal at least one item from every friend you have

☆ host some sort of social event every week

☆ marry young but let the relationship fizzle out. as your relationship declines, start an affair. you decide whether to divorce or live a lie

☆ at least one of your children (the next heir) must come from your affair

STORY PROMPTS:

— you’ve known your best friend since you were in diapers, and you’ve always wanted the best for them. but there’s a part of you that’s always been envious of them. when their new partner catches your eye, can you hold yourself back?

— alternatively, the jealousy you feel for your best friend swings the other way. you loathe their new partner and try to fight down the gnawing feeling…that it should be you on their arm instead.

GEN 9: september / sapphire (blue)

ASPIRATION: curator

CAREER: doctor

TRAITS: generous, cat or dog lover, goofball

sapphires are associated with innocence and clarity, and by some miracle, you were blessed with the purest heart this family has seen in generations. all you’ve ever wanted to help people, but your big heart tends to get you into trouble sometimes. you fight fiercely for your patients…even if that means bending a few rules to save a few lives. but if it’s in the name of the greater good, it’s not that bad…right?

sapphires are most known as blue, but green, pink, purple and peach-hued varieties exist.

☆ master the guitar and pet training skills

☆ complete three collections of your choice

☆ always have a pet in your household

☆ fall in love with a patient you treat at the hospital

☆ donate at least §1000 to charity every week

STORY PROMPTS:

— you’ve always loved a story of forbidden love, and what’s more forbidden than falling for your patient? after respectfully transferring their care to another doctor to avoid any moral conflicts, you pursue a relationship. but you suspect their new doctor isn’t giving them the care they deserve. do you put your faith in your colleague, or do you sabotage them to help the one you love?

— your charitable heart might be more trouble than its worth. a friend asks you to invest in their business, and you realise a little too late that their business isn’t exactly legit. do you quietly withdraw your support or are you along for the (potentially illegal) ride?

GEN 10: october / opal (any colour)

ASPIRATION: seeker of secrets

CAREER: secret agent

TRAITS: nosy, noncommittal, ambitious

like the enchanting shift of an opal’s colours, you have always lived a life on contrast and balance. fresh out of university, you were approached with an unbelievable offer: the chance to be a secret agent. now, you attune yourself with that changeable nature—you are whoever you need to be for a particular job, the real you doesn’t matter. but do you even know the real you? is there even a “real” you under all those disguises?

opals are known for their unique blend of colours, and can come in any combination of shades.

☆ master the video gaming and handiness skills

☆ change your hair colour (or another easily changeable aspect of your appearance) once per sim week

☆ marry a fellow secret agent and settle down in a quiet town and never reveal your real jobs to your children

☆ your two oldest children must be twins, regardless of how many children you have

☆ have at least 5 enemies, one of which must be a coworker

STORY PROMPTS:

— love finds a way even in the most unexpected of places, it seems. you meet the love of your life on a mission, but it seems your rival has feelings for them too. does everyone survive the love triangle?

— it’s hard to balance spying and parenting, but somehow you find a balance between the two. so what if that involves blackmailing a few school prinicpals?

GEN 11: november / topaz (yellow)

ASPIRATION: master chef

CAREER: chef

TRAITS: bookworm, foodie, erratic

topaz is believed to be a powerful stone for soothing, and to you there’s nothing as soothing as cooking. there was never anything other than culinary school even on your radar, and your first restaurant becomes an overnight success. you are obsessed with crafting the perfect dish. your twin refuses to let you fall down that rabbit hole and endlessly begs to set you up on a blind date to get you out into the world. when you finally relent, do you find your missing ingredient?

topaz comes in a variety of colours, but orange, yellow, and brown shades are most common.

☆ master the cooking and writing skills

☆ write at least one cookbook

☆ own a five-star restaurant

☆ meet your eventual partner on a blind date set up by your twin

☆ have a supportive family dynamic with your child(ren) and invite them to cook with you frequently

STORY PROMPTS:

— your restaurant is consuming your life and you know it. you find it hard to balance running the restaurant and being a good parent. do you sell the restaurant to focus on your family or do you still desperately try to juggle both?

— when your parents become elders, you try to convince them to move in with your family so you can care for them, but they stubbornly decline. do you push the issue or let it rest?

GEN 12: december / turquoise (teal)

ASPIRATION: archaeology scholar

CAREER: gardener (botanist branch)

TRAITS: clumsy, green fiend, socially awkward

turquoise is known as a truth stone, and you have always wondered the truth about…well, everything. your first word was “why?” and you haven’t stopped asking it since. your curiosity is endless, and your interests have always been rather…ecological. since you were a child, you’ve dreamed of going to selvadorada to study the ruins and the expansive jungle around them. now, that goal is closer than ever, and you can’t help but build a fantasy around it in your head. but do you let the fear of disappointment hold you back from making your dream a reality, or do you push through and chase your dreams regardless?

just like the colour named after it, turquoise are a vibrant teal.

☆ master the gardening and archaeology skills

☆ have a close relationship with your grandparents, becoming best friends with at least one of them

☆ save up to go to selvadorada as often as possible, at least once per season. or, if you have a mod that permits it, live there year-round

☆ never get into a romantic relationship until you go on your first selvadorada trip, where you meet the love of your life on an archaeological dig

☆ never have biological children. you may adopt if you want to

STORY PROMPTS:

— you were always close with your grandparent because they always encouraged your curiosity. after they pass away, you find out they weren’t the sweet old grandparents you thought they were, they were spies. what do you do with the information you find?

— you’ve never wanted a family of your own, but your partner does. do you stay adamant about not having children, or do have a change of heart and adopt?

#sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims legacy #sims challenge #legacy challenge #simblr #sims creator #mychallenges*#sims community #crystallizedlegacy

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