Yanderes X Reader - Tumblr Posts
nsfw + dark content masterlist
GENSHIN
genshin men as one-night stands
genshin sugar daddies
YANDERE
yandere! telepathic classmate x telepathic reader hcs
genshin sugar daddies
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)
tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni
mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.
on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.
periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.
then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.
even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.
when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.
you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.
"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."
he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.
"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."
you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.
tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.
or a dollar.
childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.
"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."
you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."
you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.
"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"
"childe!" you chide.
he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.
he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.
you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.
the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.
"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"
of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.
but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.
"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.
it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.
"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"
the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"
"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.
the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.
"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."
his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."
your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.
"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"
he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."
wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.
out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.
in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.
you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.
even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.
you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.
"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"
it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."
"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."
his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."
his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"
he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.
"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."
"kazu—"
"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"
"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"
there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.
he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."
after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.
after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.
on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.
you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.
his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.
except when spring comes.
when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.
you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.
the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.
as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.
"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"
some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.
and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.
then the process starts all over again.
when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.
"why won't you leave them all for me?"
you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."
his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."
his words make you freeze a bit.
you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.
so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."
as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.
you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.
at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.
when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.
when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.
and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.
during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.
sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.
in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.
after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:
outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.
somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.
outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.
the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.
his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.
your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.
you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.
"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."
he smiles.
"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."
saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.
on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.
today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.
it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.
ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.
"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.
"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."
he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."
you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.
at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.
somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.
but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.
instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.
you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.
when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.
instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.
sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.
in other words, he sees you.
at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.
conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.
kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.
at least, that's how you used to be.
you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.
and that's not the only thing that's changed.
the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.
but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.
vulnerable.
after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.
although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.
his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.
the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.
instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.
but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.
you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.
genshin sugar daddies: leaving hickeys on you
premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for each day of the week. it’s a bit overwhelming, but you try you’re best to keep each relationship relatively independent from the other. that means no hickeys. except, well, each one of them wants to make you theirs exclusively and they’re not above marking you secretly to send a message to tomorrow’s person. (yandere! possessive! genshin reverse harem x reader) (modern au!)
*if you want more yandere genshin sugar daddy content the introduction is here but this can be a standalone read!
tags: nsfw, dark content, afab reader, fingering, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, dub-con, smut smut smut smut smut
diluc is no stranger to jealousy. you can sense it in the way his eyes constantly beckon for yours. the way he grips tightly onto your waist. he never asks anything more than your gaze on monday evenings. they have to be on him. always. not for a second more are you allowed to look at anything else but him. he’s greedy, always pulling you to look at him once more. naturally, his gaze is always on you.
you feel it drag up and down your back. crawl into the little dip in your neckline to see what’s underneath your clothes.
so the one time, the one time, kaeya’s crafty attempts to leave hickeys on your folds and inner thighs in the midst of eating you out, diluc catches it.
he sees it the moment he peels off your panties. what should’ve been a slow sequence of him sinking his tongue into your pussy is immediately halted at the sight of a very small but noticeable bruise in the juncture between your thighs and your labia minora.
kaeya’s warning.
the change in his demeanor is undeniable. his heavy gaze flits over to your face. intentful. unaware of the hickey, you’re understandably confused.
if diluc’s seen something, he doesn’t tell you. instead, he internalizes the sight. it’s a warning and a challenge.
mine.
he’s quick to grab onto your wrists and pin them above your head. before you can brace yourself, he’s slipped a finger inside you. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, but welcome him as he curls his finger towards him, gently brushing against that spongy spot that leaves you breathless.
he chuckles lightly as you roll your eyes back. his thumb presses on your clit, nudging it side to side. “you’re soaking wet,” he mutters, sliding another two fingers inside you. “all for me?”
your hold on the sheets tightens.
he leans closer to your ear. “i can’t wait to smear the remnants of your orgasm on my cock. make it slick enough to slip inside you. make you feel good. we want my darling to feel really good, right?”
you hiss when he starts thrusting his fingers into you at rapid speed. desperate. eager to make you spill your affection onto his hands.
“that wasn’t a rhetorical question, sweetheart.”
you can’t help the moan that leaves you as you approach your climax. “y-yes! yes—ah—diluc!”
his grin looks so unlike him. his thumb starts to draw circles on your clit, going quicker and quicker the more you squirm and moan.
“cum on me. do it for me, princess. cum all over my hand. give me all your everything.”
you can barely understand the undertone in his words. instead, you reach your high. your orgasm pours out of you, onto his beckoning fingers. and instead of letting you go, he continues mercilessly until your left whining for him to stop.
and he does. eventually. he slowly pulls his digits out of your crying cunt. he collects the droplets that trickle out of your lower lips and let’s it drip onto his twitching dick. he runs his hands along his shaft, letting out a shaky groan.
“look how pretty you’ve made me. this is all you, darling.”
he fucks you like it’s he’ll die if he doesn’t. blinded by the mixture of pain and pleasure, you close your eyes and submit to the feeling of overwhelming bliss.
you’re so overwhelmed, that you don’t register how he’s kissing your neck like a man on a mission.
დ
the two of you are in the middle of a normal tuesday brunch when childe sees it. when you turn to accept the menu from the waiter, he can see the slightest marks that you couldn’t hide, even with the most expensive foundation.
you curse internally when you see his eyes narrow in on you. you should’ve known better than to ever believe that diluc would ever follow one of your only rules: no hickeys.
and now childe, notoriously competitive, will feel compelled to have his fill.
you should’ve worn a scarf.
you thought that the position of the hickey, and the slight fadedness your foundation was barely able to provide would’ve been enough. you were wrong.
like a built-in reflex, you smile. “what’s the matter? is there something wrong?”
he gives you a smile, an all-knowing smile as he takes the menu from you. “nothing is wrong at all, girlie. i’m just admiring that new necklace i bought you.”
you’re good at pretending nothing’s wrong, so you fiddle the crystals with your hand. “i love the way it shimmers,” you add, “i love how sparkly you’ve made me.”
if you’ve done anything to settle his displeasure, he doesn’t show it. instead, he averts his eyes to the menu. you know better than to believe that nothing bad will come out tonight.
for the rest of the night, he engages in small talk with you. about the weather. a new store that’s just opened up. some story about some poor guy who borrowed more money than he could ever give back. the thought makes you tighten your grip on your fork.
when you get back to his penthouse, he’s quick to strip you of your luxurious gown and all of it’s accompanied gold accents. when you reach to take off the necklace that decorates your neck, he stops you.
“keep it on,” he whispers, his hand crawling up your thigh to grip your ass. “wanna fuck you looking so pretty in my jewelry. wanna make you shine with sweat as pretty as those gems.”
“oh really?” you retort, sliding your hand between the two of your bodies and cupping his sex. he groans as you run your fingertips down his groin. “wanna make me shine with your cum?”
“yes,” he gasps. in the heat of the moment, his eyes catches the faint outline of diluc’s mark just below your jaw. overtaken by some primal instinct, he presses your waist against him. “you’re letting all those side-fucks give you hickeys?”
his words almost make you want to freeze. but you’re quick to resume back to normal, to pretend that those words don’t phase you. that you don’t hear the implications in the undertones of his voice.
it’s worse if you tell him it was unintentional.
“it’s a new development.” you tug at his hair as he digs his face into the crook of your neck. “you get only one.”
you need to have the upper hand. in a sea of seven men who are constantly demanding things from you, you have to take what you’re dealt with and do something before they overtake you.
he grins. “you’re such a tease. which motherfucker left this on you?”
you know better than to tell him. everyone knows that there’s seven who you’re regularly seeing. but they don’t know the names—not the order. you know better than to give names. these men are as powerful as they are rich, you wouldn’t do anything that’d upset the city’s dynamics.
so you avoid the question, like you’ve always done.
“i can think of better ways you can use that mouth, other than asking silly questions.”
his brow twitches, but he doesn’t do anything else to push you. instead, he smiles into your neck. “only one?”
“only one,” you confirm.
he doesn’t hesitate to take off your necklace. his hands dive to the back of your neck to unclip it and toss it to the side. you let out a yelp in surprise when it clangs onto the coffee table.
“i’ll buy you a better one,” he says in-between open-mouthed kisses on your jawline. “fuck, i’ll buy you a thousand more.”
he sinks down to your collarbone. “’been dreaming of this. my girl, my pretty, pretty girl, wearing reminders of me.”
♡
the two of you are in the comfort of kazuha’s home. wednesdays are reserved for writing, and like always, you’re pinned under his watchful gaze while he writes his thoughts away in his notebook.
with every few scrawls, he peeks over the paper to steal glances at you. you hum, pretending to be blissfully aware. you’re just here as his muse.
as of this moment, you snuggle into your comfortable place in the back of his study, leaning against the window that expands to his backyard that oversees the sunrise and sunset. your own notebook rests on your thighs, your knees pressed close enough to your chest to allow you to write smoothly. kazuha sits across from you, his feet sometimes brushing against yours. if you laid your legs out straight, no doubt that the balls of your feet would meet his waist.
he keeps stealing glances at you. has been for the past hour. no matter how much you try to focus on your own poems, you can’t brush away the feeling of being watched.
his eyes are impeccable, and can spot the marks that occasionally peak underneath your scarf when you move a certain away.
“you let them mark you?” he asks out of the blue. not accusatorily, per se, but you can detect the edge in his voice.
the corners of your lips perk unnaturally. the moment you’d been dreading since you woke up had arrived. you let your eyes soften, as if it could soothe kazuha by any means. with a gentle hand, you reach out to softly grasp his hand that tightens around the edge of his notebook. it’s something he accepts readily, enveloping your hand with his.
“i was meaning to talk to you about this, kazu,” you say tenderly. “it’s just something i’m trying out. everyone gets one. see if everyone’s okay with it.”
kazuha doesn’t say anything. his gaze is fixated on your intertwined hands. “my love, they mark your skin like animals.”
you smile like it’s no trouble. because that’s what you need him to believe. you feel like kazuha’s a loose thread. tug him in the wrong direction, the wrong idea, and he’ll undo the entire sweater.
“it’s only going to be seven,” you reply, trying to lessen the tension.
“it’s better if there’s just one,” he retorts gingerly. “they aren’t gentle at all, are they?”
you don’t like the way his eyes sweep over your entire figure. you hold back a shudder, feeling as if a ghost had just passed through you.
“they are,” you mumble, although you can hardly say it’s true. “don’t you worry kazu, i can handle myself.”
your line of sight flits back to your intertwined hands; he lets go, instead running the pads of his fingers down the back of your hands before settling on your wrist. his hold is firm. it’s not tight enough to cause you pain, but not gentle enough to let you pull away.
“i’m sure you do, love,” he mutters. but the way he says it makes it seem as if he doesn’t believe you.
his eyes connect with yours intently.
the rustle of your clothes shuffling echoes through the quiet study as he pulls your wrist towards his mouth. in doing so, you’re forced to lean forward. his eyes never leave you, not when he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist.
“they just want you for your body,” he says, more to himself than you. “they don’t love you at all. everything would be so much better if you just dropped them. let me take care of it. take care of it all.”
you don’t say anything back. he doesn’t want you to. and even if you did, it wouldn’t be something he’d want to hear. you have bills to pay. you have enemies a wealthy poet wouldn’t be able to defend you from on his own.
his tongue slides out of his mouth to lick a long strip up your wrist, all while looking at you. he presses open-mouthed kisses in the same spot, sucking and nibbling with purpose. in-between kisses, his tongue draws letters on the expanse of your skin in a sentence you’ve begun to fear.
A L L M I N E
დ
when spring comes, tighnari will sometimes give you hickeys. he’ll do it in the heat of the moment in a passionate rut. he can’t think of anything else but you. how perfect you are for him. how beautiful. how you belong to him.
while he drives his cock into you the only way he knows how, his lips will find their place in the crook of your neck. on the curve of your breasts. on the plush of your thighs. he’ll kiss you like you’re his air.
he’ll whimper into your skin. in that moment, you’re powerless to stop him. his pace is godspeed, pummeling into you like you’re his lifeline. driven to leave his white reminders of his love and devotion into your aching pussy. you can barely hold yourself up steadily. your fingers tremble. overcome with an insurmountable high, you can’t push him away as he leaves hickeys all over your body.
it’s not to send a message to everyone, per se, but to express the feelings he’d been keeping pent up during autumn, winter, and summer. the overwhelming infatuation and adoration he feels for you.
his pension for leaving nonstop hickeys on you starts to settle on the fourth day. and by the end of the week-long rut, they’ve faded just enough that you can cover it up with foundation and expensive jewelry.
but when he’s not blinded by his sexual desperation during the spring, it’s a different story.
it’s a perfectly fine thursday mid-afternoon in the comfort of tighnari’s study when he sees it.
he catches a glimpse of kazuha’s kiss on your wrist when you pass a cup of tea to him. your sleeves ride up just a bit under the beaming sun. you notice too, and are quick to pull back. but it’s too late. the moment he’s set down the cup he’s grabbing onto your wrist and pulling back the sleeve. “what’s this?”
you’re tempted to let out a breath of relief that he didn’t notice the hickey that barely rested on the edge of your collar. when you donned on the turtleneck sweater, you feared that he’d notice it if it slipped down and grow even more livid.
just play it off. pretend. if you’re lucky, by the end of this week, you’ll end up with only six hickeys.
“oh, i must’ve bumped into something.”
tighnari scowls. “this doesn’t seem like an ordinary bruise. how’d you get it?”
you’re scrambling for a believable response. “i was leaning back onto the counter and didn’t realize the corner was there.”
he chuckles. “clumsy you.” his forefinger inches up the slightest bit to press on it.
you wince. subsequently, your entire body tenses. this isn’t like those times where you can lie sweetly to him whenever he asks for you to stay for good. this isn’t like one of those times you can charm your way out of a situation. the way he looks at you is knowing. feral.
“i wasn’t born yesterday, love,” he hisses. “i know a hickey when i see one, especially when i leave them on you every spring.”
the way he kisses you after is rougher than usual. desperate. needy. aggressive. he presses into you, his tail wagging tentatively. he brings your arms to wrap around his neck. his tongue caresses your own, exploring your mouth like it’s a new discovery. a new treasure trove.
he whimpers into the kiss, his little squeaks and moans muffled by his need to devour you.
you close your eyes and let yourself get swept up with the pacing. to get distracted by him. you hardly register the time pass before the two of you are naked, your clothes strewn across the floor in his bedroom.
your back is pressed against his chest, your ass hugging his dick while he slides his hand down the valley between your breasts, stopping to pinch your nipple until it hardens. his other hand is left to its own devices, settling on your waist.
his fingers find themselves in the comfort of your pussy. he whimpers at how amazing you feel around his fingertips. how every time he pulls in and out, there’s squelching noises that almost overtake his little whines and yelps. every time he pushes his fingers back in, your ass presses a little closer to his dick.
he moans like you’re the one pleasuring him. like he’s on the cusp of euphoria, only silencing himself to press open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
“it’s m-my turn,” he says in-between whines. “m-my pretty l-little pet.”
დ
when alhaitham gets home after a long week of working, all he wants to do is relax in warmth of your embrace. friday is his reward.
he eats dinner as always, asking you questions in-between bites while delivering long stares that still make you feel like you’re being researched. but this week, instead of insisting you two spend quality time together reading on the couch, he coaxes you into the bedroom.
he groans into the kiss, pressing you to the wall as he helps you out of your clothes. but when he opens his eyes to admire your body, he doesn’t like what he sees.
he lets out an unamused chuckle. his hand brushes over your shoulder. “what’s this?”
you try to speak, but he cuts you off with another kiss. when you gasp in surprise, his tongue dives into your mouth.
he leaves you breathless; his pace is rough, almost angry.
“what a bad girl you are,” he seethes, “letting all those bastards touch you like that? bruise your pretty, pretty skin?”
he doesn’t let you talk. he envelops your opportunity to reply with his relentless kisses. he presses harder into your mouth, your teeth almost gnashing together. it’s almost painful, as if he wished to bind you two together.
“every friday is my solace, my holiday, didn’t you know?”
you gasp for air. “i-”
“i’m not done yet.” he brings his lips to yours for another hungry kiss. “every week i work so hard so i can see you, cherish you, and this is how you repay me? i thought you were my good girl.”
he chuckles darkly. “but you’re just a bad apple, aren’t you? i’ll have to fix that.”
he continues to kiss you. to ravish you with his mouth. he swallows your moans, his hands eagerly exploring your body like it’s his first time. and like always, his hands find their place on your chest.
“i’ve always loved your breasts: the way they curve, the way they sway so sweetly every time you arch your back for me, how your nipples perk up with every caress of mine.” he flicks one and you yelp.
“those imbeciles really have no intelligence at all.” he licks a long stripe in-between the valley of your breasts. “your body is a canvas.”
his eyes connect with yours, beckoning your gaze. a silent connection, a guarantee that you’re looking at him. at what he’s doing. at what he’s making you feel.
he stares at you attentively, and once again you feel like you’re being studied. every gasp that comes from your lips. every twitch of your brows. every time your eyelids flutter is under his watchful gaze like it’s the only thing his sight is for. like he’s a scientist researching the cure to his very own hunger.
his lips find purchase just on the edge of your areola, sucking intently. “to mark you is a form of art.”
he relishes in the way you shudder. but he needs more.
with one hand on your waist, his other comes up to fondle your other breast, craving for more reaction.
“only idiots wouldn’t be able to realize it.”
დ
unlike all of the other saturdays, where you’re probably swept up in the grand scheme of things (attending formal events, meeting politicians, or shopping like ayato’s wallet depended on it), you’re lounging in ayato’s home office on a calm evening.
the two of you decided to end things a bit earlier today and relax a bit. and by that, you suggested to spend some quality time alone so that you didn’t need to walk anymore. although you prided yourself on stamina and tolerance to soreness, even you couldn’t keep up after just about a week of aggressive men fucking their jealousy into you.
“it was hot today,” ayato mutters lazily as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. your head rests on the plush of his thigh, just as he likes it. “are you sure that you’re comfortable in that turtleneck, love?”
you curl into yourself a little bit more, tugging the collar up. “yes, i’m perfectly fine.”
you’re not fine. you’ve been sweating up a storm underneath your sweater but you were adamant on ending this week with six hickeys instead of seven. your stubbornness refused you the pleasure of ice-cold showers to wash away how your clothes burned you.
he pouts. “are you sure? you look awfully uncomfortable, dear. you can take a shower in my bathroom, if you’d like.” he smiles. “i won’t look, promise.”
you turn to look at him, contemplating. on one hand, you don’t believe anything good will come out of undressing in ayato’s house. you don’t believe his promise, either. if you knew him any better, he’d walk into the shower on the grounds of saving water, where he’d see all the hickeys imbued into your skin. while diluc, childe, and kazuha’s marks were getting a little faded, you doubt you could somehow explain alhaitham and tighnari’s hickeys.
but on the other hand, you’d been in this sweater for a whole day already. and your skin was started to get irritated. you felt gross with all of the sweat you’d accumulated. maybe five minutes wouldn’t hurt.
you smile like there’s nothing to worry about. like you’re an adoring lover. like you’re whoever ayato wants you to be. you reach out to cup his cheek, to which he warmly receives.
“okay. i’ll be back soon.”
he chuckles as you get up from his lap to head to the shower. you had to be quick.
you all but run to the bathroom once you’re out of sight. you head to ayato’s bedroom where some of your clothes are. dresses, lingerie, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, and all other items of clothing he’s ever bought you hang neatly in his closet. you pluck whatever seems practical and make a break for the shower.
you slip off the diamond ring he’d given you months ago. you all but slam it onto the counter, relieved your ring finger can breathe for once.
the quicker you take, the more likely you can shower without incident.
but the moment you’ve stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped secure around your torso, to your horror, the door opens.
“hey, love, i was wondering—”
just before you can close the door shut on him, his eyes connect to the discoloring on your shoulder.
regardless of his discovery, you move to usher him out. but mid-way, your feet are halted in the middle of the bathroom floor. the words are crawling in your mouth. you want to tell him that you’d like to shower in peace, tell it to him teasingly, but you don’t think you can.
that’s not what he wants. that’s not what pays the bills.
you offer a tight-lipped smile. “like what you see?”
he paces towards you, caressing your shoulder. he leans closer to you, examining the color, the shape, the size. “hm, so that’s how they want to play this game,” he whispers, ignoring your question entirely.
his hands gently tug at your towel. he smiles. “won’t you open up for me, love?”
he guides your hands as you drop the towel, revealing alhaitham’s mark.
“hm.” he looks at you as if he’s silently critiquing an art piece. “i see what’s going on here.”
he takes the ring that you left behind on the counter and works to slide it slowly onto your finger again. “you almost forgot to wear the symbol of our love, dear.”
“oh, it must’ve slipped my mind.” it’s like there’s cotton in your mouth. your throat feels dry.
he chuckles at that. “poor thing. my poor lover can be so forgetful.”
his eyes drift down to your chest.
he presses a kiss above your breasts, where your heart is.
“she almost forgets that she’s mine.”
დ
even if he’s your designated sunday, if you aren’t careful enough, kaeya will create a week full of trouble for you.
when he eats you out, he becomes pussy-drunk. he kisses your lower lips like it’s his prize. his reward for working so hard this week. his tongue runs up your pussy to your clit in a slow, deliberate stroke.
when he reaches your clit, he lets his mouth mold over your nub. he licks at it gently, cherishing it like it’s his only rose on a lonely valentine’s day.
he makes love to you like he’s reached his happily ever after. his lewd slurping overshadows the shuffling of the sheets, your moans. when he dips his tongue into your cunt, he whimpers.
his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place. even when you’re overstimulated, begging for a break, he won’t let you go. he savors the way you tremble so cutely under his touch. how your cum leaks out of you in small streams after your fifth release. he’s immersed in your cunt, yearns to make out with your lower lips while his nose nudges at your clit.
it’s too much. the feeling of your climax is so overwhelming.
he wants you to feel this euphoria, to remind you of how he feels every time he looks at you.
he wants you so much. so fucking much it hurts him when he can’t see you. when he can’t hold you. when he can’t be with you like a real lover. he needs you like he needs air. he needs to feel you wrapped around him to give him life. to give him purpose.
that’s why when you’re so swept up in the feeling of a constant climax, when your legs feel numb, he gets so carried away.
if you don’t catch him in time, kaeya will leave secretive hickeys along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your folds. he needs the others to know he’s staking his claim.
to know he’s making you feel so good that there’s definitive proof.
at the end of the week, when you see him again after seven days of trying to calm down the jealous storm among your seven sugar daddies, he’ll grin.
it’s that same devious smirk he gives you at candlelight dinners, except it isn’t one to mask his vulnerabilities with charisma and one-liners. it’s one to tell you that he knows exactly what he’s done.
he knows what he wants, and he’s finally had enough of the fucking waiting.
I’m so happy this is finally finished! It took awhile to finish but i’m so happy!!
This is just a fanart of a headcanon i have of MC in a transformers fanfic i read in quotev where in the future she becomes a rebel against the senator council and goes threw out Cybertron graffitiing peace protests against the government and puts up hologram posters of facts and the lies that the council puts up to propagandize Cybertron’s population.
Honestly the hardest part on MC’s design is the shoulder and legs wheels cause i’ve never drawn transformers so i was racking my head on how to draw them. And also is it just me but why are transformers helms so hard to draw?!! Like i know it’s a helmet but just kept feeling like i just made them bald. But it’s so much fun trying to draw something that i’ve never tried before and so glad that there’s a concept art for the MC of the story in chapter 18 cause if there aren’t any i’m an absolute goner to draw this!!! And I mostly drew this in the Transformers animated style cause primus save me it would have took me ages of life to draw this in like prime or IDW style (to those who can transformers in that style, i bow to your superior skills cause most people would think that drawing detailed blocks are easy but PITS NOPE!!!)
And i gave little reference on the paint that’s inside the paint spray gun where the colors i referenced to the cover of the fanfic (and i also made MC holding a car spray gun to do her graffiti cause i kind of thought that no one in Cybertron have graffitied yet so for MC to do it in Cybertron like back in her life as a human she uses spray guns that are used to paint cars/alt modes in transformers. And if someone ask on why the spray gun is attached to a hose on MC’s bag thing, the black part of that bag is to storage paints so like the bags used by graffiti artists that i found and the red bottom part of the bag is an air compressor thing like it’s used in car spray gun but in a more portable size. And honestly not sure if i should call it bag cause, atleast in my headcanon on how MC made her handicraft bag, technically it’s just a metal box that MC found that she attaches a cut hose for the sling and maybe and old used air compressor she fixed cause if I remember correctly bags aren’t a thing in Transformers so i tried to incorporate that). And in the background is actually those colored beats like in videos where each music beats the video shows it as a reference to MC’s love of music (and the blue pink colors are not only referring to MC’s optics but also cause in the fanfic she has the power to open a portal to the void/shadow realm so i was referencing that). And the white lines on the edges of the drawing is a referencing to MC hacking and putting up hologram posters cause i thought that if MC is going to get the truth from the government she will need to be able to hack computer systems and such to get them. And it’s just a tiny detail but the curves inside of Nebula as she swirls behind MC where it’s sharp is a reference that she looks like flowing flames but I didn’t want it to be too obvious so i just decided to make her a flowing blob (cause i thought that that’s what she looks like in the solid world if MC isn’t in the void) shadow with slight sharp angles like how stylized fires look like. Also can someone tell me if there’s a device in Transformers to make hologram posters? Cause I wasn’t sure what it would look like so just made it look like a flat disc in MC’s right servo. And just a headcanon as well, MC’s will absolutely splatter herself with colorful paints as not only as protest against the government that tries to make her to convert to their ideals but also just as a fun self expression where while MC is covered it messy paints it’s also made her beautiful with her confidence on not being afraid to stand out and be different (tho i have a feeling that if Knockout saw her like that he’ll have a spark attack) kind of like a transformer’s version of tattoos and such. The feathers on MC’s helm i intentionally put rainbow colors on them cause i kind of thought that the feathers are holographic so every time MC moves her feathers reflects and changes color. And the reason why i made MC and Nebula surrounded with so many colors is sorta kind like a representation how went from just living by under the rules of Cybertron to taking charge in trying to help Cybertron by doing things that’s different by the standards there and giving color to the lives around her. And i made Nebula with wings as a little nod on her connection with Unicron and i just made her sparkly cause i thought it’ll be pretty hehe~ along with the mismatched mascaras that MC uses cause i just thought it adds abit of that rebellious allure especially since the colors that are used are the shade of the other optic’s color!
Honestly this is one of my favorite drawings i made! I’ve always loved those drawings where monochromatic colors being surrounded by like a rainbow bomb around them, so this drawing is definitely my absolute favorites!
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And also if anyone is curious and wants to read the fanfic that i’ve been rambling above on the fanart i made here’s the link to the fic!
Please give some love to the author of this fic cause they’ve worked really hard to make this incredible well written fanfic that goes in depth on Transformers. And don’t forget to leave a heart on their fic! Like seriously go and give this a read! The plot hasn’t even gotten to the war part of the Transformers and it’s already so good! And to those who want a various x reader fic where the relationship goes deeper then just characters falling in love without context, this is a fic for you simping boos out there!
Drew out what Glowburst would look like in the fic! Since there hasn’t been any concept art on what Glowburst looks like i’d like to take a crack on what she would probably look like by the little description that we do get of her!
I drew out her past, present and future looks cause since it’s confirmed that Glowburst looks differently from what she looks at present time at the fic and a future look cause i feel like it’s all set and done when she has her family whole again after reuniting with sire again, she’ll have a healing arc where she’s taking herself and gets to spend some quality family time. Even tho there’s a hint that she’s gonna die, but for now i’m gonna be an optimist and just hope that MC will not be tortured by the plot traumas of the future (i know this is in vain but a girl can only wish ok!!)
But disclaimer tho, some of the things i put on Glowburst’s design is sort of headcanons from me with the ideas i come up with the things that are hinted about Glowburst and hasn’t been said yet in the fic, so no one better tell me that i’m off track when future chapters are added cause this design is just what i THINK she’d look like not what she DOES look like at the moment! And I’m honestly just having fun with her design kay? Plus i sort of kind of re-using a failed draft of my version of MC when she got older.
I mostly start with the present one since we got a description from ms.seacucumber that Glowburst looks old and that her paint is faded and since it’s said by MC that she looks like her carrier i got a pretty good draft on what she’d probably look like. I tried to base her off of MC but with slight differences since the sire’s genetic also got inherited so i didn’t want MC and GB to look too similar, and also i sorta made her look like she’s covered up cause i feel like the modification that got hinted in the new chapter 23 would be put over her past armor somewhat like trying to contain the fire in Glowburst to prevent it from well, bursting. And sorta like a symbolism that she’s being constrained and forced to being something she’s not. Also little funny reason on her color picking, i got the idea from A.B.A’s new design in guilty gear where there’s like a theory of sort that her hair is made of copper and that’s why her red hair is now greenish blue because of time and the other theory that it’s because A.B.A tried to dye her hair but ended up coloring it wrong, and since it’s confirmed by Spring that Glowburst has ember color scheme in her past and ember has reds in them i just roled with that color idea. Tho i wonder if i put enough greenishnest in the fading blue paint tho. . . . ? Maybe i’ll meke it more greenish in the future with the blue. . .
And with the present done it’s easy to think of past and future since i just need to branch it out. The reason why I thought of 80s type of inspiration for the past look cause of the description of Glowburst being old and since transformers has already existed since the 80s, I thought that it’ll be a good fit! Tho also fun fact, to get some some ideas on 80s look i looked up 80s cartoons and one of the cartoons that i found on that 80s cartoon list is Jem and the holograms, and i was like “hey MC likes to sing, that could be a good inspiration fit for her mama!”. Also i just really want an 80s based look for Glowburst cause i wanted to give her the poofiest big bursting flames ponytail like those poofy hairs back in the 80s that were popular at that time! And come on her name is Glowburst! Her flames gotta be “bursting” from those “glowing” hues of flames of her’s!!
And the future look i just sort of mismatched both the past and present look since i feel like Glowburst would definitely want to look like back when she was in her past look but with how she’s grown she’s now matured better then her past, and hey blue ain’t a bad color for her just that she never took care of herself that she pretty much neglected her paint till it’s faded so i thought a more vibrant color of the blue symbolizes that she’s now healing since she’ll maybe reunited with her conjunx and now has met Nebula plus having grandkids so she’s a happy elderly now! Also i thought of Glowburst getting accesories that MC made since i thought that Glowburst would love to experiment with her looks plus 80s have some over the top exaggerated accesories so why not? Plus the transformation that i saw with the femmes in G1, their vehicle modes usually only have their chest and thigh parts showing on the outside so i believe that the accesories could work! Plus i mean there’s no way they haven’t figured out how to make accesories right? They already figured out spacebridge portals to teleport them threw galaxies and even multiverses but they couldn’t figure out how to make accesories for fun?
I’ll probably update on her design in the future cause i feel like Glowburst looks will be described more and who knows maybe i can add alittle more things in her design or just feels like that something could suit her more! This was a fun challenge tho, can’t wait to see what sire would look like so that i can make a draft blueprint for him too!
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If anyone is curious and wants to read the fanfic that i’ve been rambling above on the fanart i made, here’s the link to the fic made by a lovely friend of mine!
Spring (the author) works hard to make this lovely work of theirs so please give them some love kay! They’ve been really sweet to answer my questions on what Glowburst looks like and oh darn are they just so sweetly patient with me cause i wanted to not miss a detail of Glowburst’s design since this is an old oc she made that she hasn’t even drawn yet so i wanted to give her design the justice it deserves!! Man can’t wait when Glowburst’s mystery gets revealed along with her conjunx!! I’m so excited!!
Holoform MC headcanon drawing thing
I honestly wasn’t going to draw this, but some readers there (*ahem* Skullz *ahem* Aura) really tempted me with making a holoform for MC with their discussion and since they have summoned me i was like “you know what, i honestly do want to draw a buff gentle giant lady” so here i am drawing this. No regrets tho~
The drawings are mostly just doodles from their description of their headcanon of what MC’s holoform look like, which are:
- buff masculine body
- feminine face
-mafia/detective 1920s/1930s
-classy look
-trench coat
Not sure if i got all the details right but i tried my best, tried to draw the muscles more visible but wasn’t sure how to with the clothing covering the body up so i just made another doodle to illustrate her muscles. And hey i must say my first attempt on drawing a muscle lady isn’t a bad attempt i say so i say this is a win! Also made her have pointed ears since her side fins are feathers so i just made them pointed as a nod to that. And i just want MC to wear a pretty strawberry dress cause i just want a pretty buff lady looking beautiful in it! And wholesome scenarios of MC carrying holoform Megatron bridal style and holoform Whirl braiding her hair~ and question, do transformers when they blush in their holoform have red hues when they blush or do they blush blue?
Aura, Skullz, if you two see this, i blame the both of you on tempting me to draw a buff lady! (I’m grateful but still!)
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If any of you guys wanna read the fanfic that this MC headcanon holoform is from, here’s the link
It’s made by a friend of mine so give them some love to their work kay? They work hard on this fanfic of their’s! And maybe join in on rambling about the next chapter or make scenarios and headcanons with other fellow readers there, tell Skullz and Aura i said hey!
FINALLY FINISHED THIS!!! oh my primus why did this took so long?!! Seriously my ibispaint timer is at 140 minutes and that’s at the fast forward speed?!! UGHHH!!! CURSE MY PERFECTIONIST EYE CATCHING EVERY SINGLE IMPERFECTION!!!
ok now time to ramble after letting out that steam! So this one i drew as a continuation for the first one i made of MC where she’s in the air floating while scheming her rebellious plans in blue and pink background, cause hey i think that there’s no way that girly gonna just stand around in her prison cell to rust when she has her shadow sister to help her break out, so YUP this is the art i drew for that thought process!
I don’t know if the pose made it obvious but they’re posing the Barbie and Ken jail photo pose, MC as Barbie and Nebula as Ken,
tho i made them both smirking and being mischievous vixens cause hey when you don’t like the functionist government then you go out there to piss the ever loving pits out of them! (And cause i just wanna have an excuse to draw them with that pose) And i must say i love how i drew out how very smug MC is with the paint splatters that i gave her in the fanart i drew before, and Nebula being a proud older sister at seeing her dear sister breaking the rules! My thoughts on how they break out of prison is Nebula using her powers to destroy the systems that’s working the whole facility (the reason why the red force field bars shattered) and MC throwing paint bombs everywhere just to spite the pits out of the guards (which is why there are paints covering the walls). And the reason why i chose the colors red yellow and blue primarily in the drawing is cause i want it as a representation of how the whole situation is, red and yellow the colors that are associated with danger is either surrounding (the red force field) covering (the holograms of them with their data) or saying to “others” to keep away (the police tapes) but there’s blue coloring or lighting either surrounding or are outside of the red signifying that the reds and yellows are what the government are presenting them as (dangers) when in actually they are blue (kind or justice).
Also easter eggs from me from the chapter of MC’s database, with MC’s hologram data saying warning and her file having a danger symbol along with her datapad having 0.077 being marked over with the word MC cause she doesn’t like how the government experimented on her. And Nebula’s hologram data and database is just an error and redacted. I just wanted to add those things cause those are fun to add in!
Also a fun tidbit from me, if someone is asking what the words on the force field are saying, i used alphabets in transformers that i found in the wiki for it to spell out MC and Nebula’s personal message to the government when they’re investigating their jail cells.
And it spells,
“F R A G Y O U”
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If someone is wondering what i’m drawing above, it’s from a fanfic that my friend @springingsour made in Quotev, here’s the link
Please give them some love kay? They worked really hard to make their stories so give them some those good supportive motivations kay? And check out some of their other stuff to! They’re all real good! (Also Spring my friend i’m so sorry it tooked this long, my perfectionist side got the better of me. . .)
yandere!kny main trio (tanjiro, inosuke, zenitsu) hcs + sharing a darling
TITLE: " YOURS, MINE, OURS " — navi.
A/N: this is set after the manga's ending but there are no spoilers. :) i promise i'm working on reqs, i kinda just had this sitting around so i decided to finish it! (skull)
PAIRING: yandere!kny main trio (tanjiro, inosuke, zenitsu) x reader
CHARACTERS: kamado tanjiro, agatsuma zenitsu, hashibira inosuke (not specified but aged-up)
☆ you're so in trouble if you manage to get all three of them to fall for you.
☆ it all began when you stumbled upon tanjiro's humble adobe, hidden within the thick foliage at the top of a mountain. you're severely injured from an unlucky scavenging accident and have managed to venture quite aways from your hometown. with a fractured arm and multiple bleeding wounds, you didn't think you'd make it far enough to find anyone for miles. that is, until you impede upon the lives of three oddly powerful men living in the middle of nowhere. aren't you lucky?
☆ at first, you weren't sure how they were going to react to a random woman appearing on their doorstep begging for help. however, they were surprisingly open and welcoming—tanjiro and zenitsu were, anyway. inosuke, not so much. in the following weeks, you get to know them a little better and they allow you to stay in their home until your arm heals up. you offer to help around the house in order to level the debt you owe them for basically saving your life but, sweetly (or strangely) enough, you're instructed to sit still and rest while they take care of you.
☆ tanjiro has the most potential to be your favorite because of how kindly he treats you. he was the one who initially bandaged up your wounds, cooked your meals, and even washed your hair when you couldn't reach due to your fractured arm. it's embarrassing, but tanjiro is very respectful of where he touches you, as well as where his eyes wander. needless to say, he dotes on you the most and is overall such a sweetheart. he's very attentive to your needs and often knows what you want before you say it; he's observant and mindful of your likes and dislikes. you find comfort in his presence and he gives surprisingly good advice.
☆ he's technically the "man of the house," as it's literally his house, and he truly does act like it. he spends a surprising amount of time chopping wood to make charcoal to sell in the town that sits at the base of the mountain. you feel hesitant to ask if you can accompany him while he works—you already feel like a burden with how much he does for you, but he never seems annoyed by you, ever. though, he only allows you outside as long as you promise to sit in the shade and not walk off on your own without his or the others' supervision. it's a bit... extreme considering the scale of your injuries, but you've learned to do as he says. tanjiro is just looking out for you; you're so grateful to him.
☆ you already know that zenitsu would immediately try to wife you up. out of all of them, he is by far the most clingy and possessive. when you're not around, he cries because he misses you. when you are around, he cries because he doesn't want you out of his sight. due to his tendency to be loud and expressive, zenitsu is never, ever ashamed to constantly fill your head with sweet compliments (he has no shame, actually). most of the time he'll ask to hold your hand or hug you—he needs to have some kind of skinship with you in order to be satisfied. he does try to show off for you but he's often outshined by inosuke, who enjoys one-upping him while doing even the most menial tasks.
☆ sometimes if he gets too grabby-feely you have to smack him away, but any attention from you is good attention to him. he has a weird way of worming himself into your heart. zenitsu is always the one who cheers you up when you're bummed out about your injuries, or if you're feeling particularly homesick. he's constantly doing silly things to make you laugh or just react to him in any way; he'll even go as far as hurting himself (dramatically crying over a paper cut or a minor scrape..) in order to keep your attention on him. he loves it when you pat his hair or reciprocate his affections, even if it's just for a little bit. a total [y/n] hog!
☆ inosuke is very ignorant when it comes to romance. at first he tried to fight you to assert his dominance and superiority, but after realizing you were injured, he promised to at least "wait until the woman was healed" after much persuading from tanjiro. though clumsy in his advances towards you, he's earnest and genuine; he's never afraid to tell you what/how he's feeling in any given moment. that being said, he may blurt things out that fluster you ("TAKE OFF YOUR STUPID CLOTHES, WOMAN!"). generally, inosuke is never trusted with you when it comes to doing the delicate things like cooking or cleaning, but he does give you piggyback rides literally everywhere and anywhere. he's rather bashful in his own way.
☆ inosuke likes it when you're close to him—preferably with as little layers as possible—as he's sensitive to touch and finds it comforting to feel your warmth against his. and even though he gets your name wrong sometimes, he does try really, really, hard to remember it. he even offered that you write it on his loincloth so he doesn't forget (what a sweetie!). he gives you "gifts" that he finds when he's out training in the forest, like a pretty looking rock or anything that resembles a flower (he once unknowingly uprooted a clump of weeds for you). everything about romance is new to him, so he wordlessly relies on you to guide him a lot.
☆ when it comes to sharing, the three men have a very difficult time. they devised a plan to alternate which days you'll spend with who and for how long. you tried to question why you can't all just hang out together, but they protested so strongly that you'd think you said something cursed. tanjiro tends to be the voice of reason, but zenitsu can also be (ir)rational in his own way. for example, he'll totally agree that you should be able to pick who you want to hang out with but point to himself as the best choice when the others aren't looking. inosuke doesn't like to share at all, so he throws a tantrum every day that he isn't the one who gets to spend time with you. leave it to zenitsu to hold him back while tanjiro guides you away with a sheepish smile.
☆ as your injuries heal up, everyone does their fair share in helping you around and catering to your needs. need to change your bandages? tanjiro insists that he should do it. oh, you said you liked that sunflower in the backyard that one time? inosuke's gonna pick them all for you! wait, your body is sore from doing the physical therapy exercises they force you to do? don't worry, zenitsu will be there with lots of hugs, massages, and warm towels! honestly, they spoil you to the point of it being overwhelming.
☆ and overwhelming it certainly becomes. by the time your wounds are healed and your fractured arm is out of its makeshift cast, you pitch your idea of going back to your hometown to them during dinner one evening. you express your immense gratitude to them, saying you don't know how you'll ever be able to repay them in any meaningful way, but you will definitely come visit often. when you're finished, the silence that follows is absolutely deafening.
☆ zenitsu starts wailing not even five seconds after you're done talking and inosuke results to shouting unintelligible words at you. you sit there with your mouth agape as both men show their distaste to your idea in their own ways. you look to tanjiro for help, who remains eerily calm with crossed arms and closed eyes, but he simply says nothing. zenitsu grabs onto the bottom of your yukata, yelling through snot and tears, "[y/n]-chaaaannn!! you can't leave us!!" inosuke looks like he's ready to explode with the way veins are bulging from his neck and arms. it seems like he's ready to pounce on you if you move away from the table.
☆ "[y/n]-chan," tanjiro suddenly sighs, his voice serious yet gentle as if talking to a child. "are you sure you want to go? maybe it's best if you stayed a while longer. you still aren't healed enough to make the trip down the mountain."
☆ you frown at the suggestion, not sure why you would stay when you feel like you're pretty much back to full health already. "well..." you trail off as zenitsu nearly squeezes the breath out of you, now clinging to your waist and burying his face into your obi. you pat his head with a sad smile; of course you don't want to leave your new friends behind. they've been kind to you but it's about time that you got back to your old life now. your family must be worried sick.
☆ "it's dangerous out there, what if you get hurt again? we aren't going to be there to help you," tanjiro then motions towards the other two, who are sulking at the thought of you leaving. "look at how riled up zenitsu and inosuke are. we've done so much for you and you're just going to leave? don't you like living with us?" tanjiro looks... annoyed. frustrated, even. it's the first time you've ever seen him look like that; you don't understand what the negativity is all about. shouldn't they be happy you're getting out of their hair?
☆ you look up at him, unsure of how to answer. in a way, he's right, but surely you can't stay here forever. your eyes shift from tanjiro, to zenitsu, and finally to inosuke, who's gone awfully quiet after his initial outburst of anger just a few minutes ago. "i'm sorry, everyone. and you're right, tanjiro, you all have done so much for me... zenitsu and inosuke... really, like i said, i don't know how to repay you. " the hand that's stroking zenitu's head drops to your side and he whines at your withdrawal.
☆ another voice suddenly chimes in. "i know how you can repay us." to your surprise, it's inosuke's baritone rasp that draws everyone's attention. he had taken his boar mask off in order to eat, so his devious smile isn't obscured by anything. you can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach at what he says next.
☆ in short, in exchange for saving your life, they also wanted to keep and control it. after that night, they refused to let you leave the house and you're constantly guarded by one of them to ensure that you don't try to make a run for it. you're incredibly miserable but tanjiro still gives you those sweet smiles of his, zenitsu still clings to you like a koala, and inosuke still spoils you with "gifts" and piggyback rides. nothing's changed except the fact that they somehow treat you better than before.
☆ you're told to not resist their advances and to simply give in to their vying for your love and attention. that's right, just let them take care of you, okay?