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#otome guys
chevlvrs · 3 days
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The pic with his arms crossed & the one in the city LORDDD
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ikeromantic · 3 days
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Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 3
Thank you again to @otomedad for this fantastic idea ^_^ This one has Sasuke, Yukimura, and Kanetsugu! Approx. 2900 words (yes, I know. They keep getting longer xD)
Sasuke
You glance at Sasuke, wondering what he’s thinking about. His eyes are trained on the night sky, his lips curling in a faint, barely there smile. He notices you looking and turns his head to regard you. 
“Are you cold? It’s colder tonight than I expected it to be.” 
“No. I’m good.” You feel warm anytime you’re around him. Your very own moderately-awesome ninja.  
He rubs his eyes before turning back to look up at the stars. “Alright.” His fingers curl over yours, a gentle caress he doesn’t even seem aware of. 
You feel an ache in your chest, sweet and sharp, as you regard his profile. Somehow, that face has become so precious to you, but you don’t know how to tell him or if you even should. Friendship is precious and fragile, you think, as you look back up to the sky. 
A sudden gust of chill night air tugs your hair from its messy bun. Strands blow around your face, and you can already feel the tangles forming. “Damn,” you sigh, trying to catch hold of them. 
Sasuke looks back at you with that same whisper of a smile. “Here, let me help.” He moves to sit behind you. “I’m not as good at this as Yoshimoto. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” you murmur, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. His legs are to either side of you, and if you were to lean back, you’d be flush against his broad chest. “Here,” you hand him your hair clip, “and, umm, thanks.”
His fingers comb through your hair, sending a shiver down your back. It feels intimate and sensual to have him touch you like this. He tugs your collar down as he corrals your unruly hair. Then you feel him pause, a slight inhale.
“You have a tattoo.”
“Oh. Mhmm.” You try to find words, so you don’t sound like an idiot. But his closeness is so distracting! “It’s, umm, it’s a lotus?”
You feel him lift your hair to get a better look. “Is it alright if I see it?” 
“Sure.” You hold very still as he pulls your kimono down a little further, fingertips brushing your inked skin. Just a friend, you remind yourself sternly, as your skin reacts to that light touch.
He is quiet for several moments. You can feel his gaze on your skin, and the faint trace of his fingers as he follows the intricate lines of the petals and leaves. “The lotus has a lot of meanings,” he says finally. “Divinity. Rebirth. It is an excellent choice for a tattoo.”
You smile, a flush of honeyed heat flooding through you at his words. “I liked the spiritualism of it. For me, it’s like a reminder to keep an open heart. And an open mind.” 
“A good thing to remember. Especially for a woman who finds herself transported via wormhole to the Sengoku.” 
You can hear the laughter in his words, though he doesn’t laugh. Sasuke’s emotions can be hard to read, though you find more and more that you can tell how he feels by the slight changes in his expression, his tone, the depths of his caramel brown eyes. “Ha, yeah. I never expected to have to be this open minded.” 
“I’d say you do exceptionally well. At everything.” Sasuke’s breath tickles the hair at the back of your neck, and you feel the slight press of his chest against you. “The detail on this flower is very good. The shading and color. I’d like to look at it in better light.”
Your skin dimples as his words send another little shiver through you. “O-okay. Sure. When we go inside. You can. Look.” Despite your best efforts to not sound affected by his touch, you stutter your response. 
“Are you sure you’re not cold?” He lets go of your hair, wrapping his arms around you. You are pulled up close against his chest, his chin rests on your shoulder. “You keep shivering.”
There is no way to reply at first. Your heartbeat is pounding loudly in your ears and you feel like you might not be able to breathe because he is hugging you and it feels - holy cats - it feels so good and so right and he’s just supposed to be a friend but isn’t this -
“Are you ok? You went very still. It reminds me of the prey response in rabbits. You know they freeze to blend in with the environment and can hold -”
“I’m fine.” And you almost manage to sound like it, if a little choked. “I definitely do not feel like a rabbit,” you add, your voice nearly normal. 
Sasuke nods. “Alright.” You aren’t sure, but you think he sounds a little breathy himself. “Does this . . . warm you up?” 
“Yep.” You feel very very warm in his arms. Hot, even. 
“I am warm too. Very warm.” He says nothing for a few breaths, then, “It’s what friends do for each other, right?”
“Right.” You can’t imagine him hugging Yukimura like this. Or Yuki allowing it. But you don’t say that, because you don’t want him to stop. 
“Good.” He pauses again, thinking. “I’ve never had a friend like you before.”
You smile at that. “Same. But you’re my best Sengoku buddy, and teacher. And a lot more.” You close your mouth on the almost-confession before it can bubble up and ruin everything. 
A slight shudder passes through him, one you can feel. Then, “We should probably go inside. It’s late and it will only get colder up here.” 
“You’re right. We can’t sit like this all night.” Part of you is very sure you absolutely could. 
He reluctantly lets go of you, taking a moment to pull your hair back into the clip at the back. Sasuke is quiet as he brushes his fingers over your tattoo again. “I don’t know how I didn’t notice it there before. Your lotus.”
“I try to keep it covered. Fewer questions that way. I don’t think many women in this time have them.”
“No, they don’t.” He stands. “But maybe they should. It is exceptional. You -” He wipes at his eyes again, taking his glasses off. “I think I got something in my eyes,” he says, blinking. 
You wonder what else he was going to say, but the moment passes and instead, he holds his hand out to help you up. His grip is strong and sure and comforting. “Thanks.” You aren’t sure if you’re thanking him for the hand up or the compliments, or for keeping you warm. All of it, you guess. 
Sasuke’s gaze travels over you slowly and you feel yourself tense at the unexpected inspection. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s looking for, he speaks up. “Do you have any other tattoos?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out,” you grin, teasing. You can’t help but notice a faint flush from the tips of his ears down to his neck as he looks away.
He clears his throat and nods, a little unsteady. “Y-yeah.” 
You catch him watching you from the corner of his eye and stealing secretive glances at you the whole way back to your room. You’re pretty sure he’s hunting for signs of another tattoo. This will be a fun game, you think, ignoring the little twinge in your heart.
Yukimura
“I don’t know why you wanted to come,” Yukimura huffs, walking at your side up the steep hill. “You’re so slow and your face is all red.”
You glare at him from the corner of your eye, wondering the same thing. It seemed like a great idea when the two of you set out from Kasugayama for the day, but after a few hours of walking, you were ready to strangle him. 
“Pfft. I’m holding back for your sake. You have uh, you have stubby legs!” You poke him in the ribs, only half joking. 
“I can’t have stubbier legs than you.” He pokes you back harder than you poked him.
“Oh really?” You take a breath and push off your back foot into a run. “Then why am I in front of you,” you call over your shoulder, taunting. This is a mistake you immediately regret as your foot catches on a rock and you tumble forward.
Yukimura tries to catch you, but he’s a little too far back and more than a little surprised. “Hey! Are you alright?” The teasing is gone from his voice, replaced with genuine worry as he kneels beside you on the path. 
You roll over and lay on your back, feeling embarrassed and a little bruised. “I’m fine,” you groan.
His eyes move slowly over you, looking for any sign of injury. “You can’t always charge forward like a bo- oh!” Yukimura’s hand darts forward, lifting the edge of your kimono. 
“Hey!” You smack his hand and the cloth flutters back down over your leg. “I’d expect that from, like, Shingen, but -”
“I wasn’t trying to peek. You have a mark. It looks like a bruise.” His lips form a precious pout and you feel your annoyance seep away at the genuine hurt in his expression.
With a little effort, you sit up and carefully tug the edge of your kimono back up your leg, looking for the injury. Only there’s nothing there, just your Totoro tatt. “I’m fine. See?” You start to stand but he puts a hand out.
“What is that? It looks like a really fat bear. Or maybe a squirrel.” Yukimura leans toward your leg, poking at the inked skin. 
You try to pull your kimono back down over it. You aren’t sure what would happen, but showing someone a Ghibli tattoo 500 years before movies exists is probably some sort of world ending time event. You wish Sasuke was here to intervene or at least give you some hint about how to answer, but he isn’t and Yukimura is poking your thigh. “It’s not a bear or a squirrel. It’s a forest spirit.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking incredulous. “It doesn’t look like one. Aren’t they supposed to be majestic? Or scary? This one looks funny.”
“Well. He kind of is. His name is Totoro and he’s my favo-ah, he’s the umm, the forest spirit for my home town. So you shouldn’t make fun of him.” You cross your arms, trying to regain some dignity after the fall and Yuki’s teasing.
“I wasn’t making fun of it,” Yukimura replies, his voice gentle and contrite. “He’s kinda cute. L-like you.” His cheeks turn bright red at the admission, and he looks away unable to meet your gaze.
You feel a little stunned yourself, and your own face feels as hot as a kitchen fire. “Thanks.” The word comes out almost a squeak. You clear your throat. “I’m glad you like him,” you add in a more normal voice. 
Yukimura finally turns back to you, his cheeks still plum-red. “So. Don’t get mad, but, why would you get your forest spirit inked into your skin?” He looks genuinely curious and a little nervous.
“I -” you can’t very well explain how much the film meant to you as a child, or how many times you watched it to cheer up after a rough day. How to explain the comfort of enjoying the same sad-sweetness of the anime without explaining animation and movies and so many things Yuki has no idea about? 
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He leans back from you, trying to hide the hurt look in his eyes by changing the subject. “Are you gonna watch where you’re going the rest of the way up, or am I gonna have to carry you?”
You nearly react to the taunt before you realize where it came from. “Yuki. I do want to tell you. It’s just hard to explain.” It takes another moment to consider, and then you begin. “So, Totoro - he was there for me when I was sad. He helped me feel better when my grandmother died, and when my best friend moved away. And when I was all alone at college - um, school for seamstresses I mean.”
“So, your forest spirit talked to you?” His eyes are wide now, but you don’t detect any disbelief. Only surprise.
“More like . . . I guess you could say I watched him? Yeah. And that made me feel better. Just seeing him do what he does.” You shrug, not sure what else to say. 
Yukimura nods as if this makes more sense to him, though he still looks faintly wide eyed. His calloused palm rests on your leg just below the tattoo, a pleasant warmth. His gaze drops back to it, eyes narrowing as he studies the image. “I didn’t expect you to have irezumi but I like it.” 
You feel yourself smile, a wide bright grin that makes your cheeks hurt. Sure, Yuki can be a brat, you think, but when he’s sweet, it just makes you want to kiss him. 
“What are you making that dumb face for?” Heat colors his cheeks and he can’t meet your gaze as he looks up. 
“I dunno. What are you making a dumb face for?” 
Yuki stands. “I’m not!” He holds out a hand to help you up.
You take the hand and stand, dusting yourself off. “Are too. Or wait, maybe that’s just your face?” You giggle when he scowls at you. 
He leans forward, and you think he’s probably wracking his brain for a good insult. Before he can come up with one, you plant a tiny kiss right on his lips. Yukimura’s mouth opens in a surprised, pleased sigh and for just a heartbeat, his eyes flutter shut. 
“It’s a good thing I really love your dumb face.” You grin and squeeze his hand.
“Yeah. Same.” He returns your smile, tenderness in his gaze. Then he lets go of your hand and launches himself up the trail. “But you still have stubby legs! Think you can catch up!” 
Kanetsugu
“What is this?” Kanetsugu’s finger lands on the back of your hand, gently but firmly pinning you in place. 
“What’s what?” You glance up at him in mild surprise. He was reading, but now he’s just over your shoulder, leaned down so that his chin is beside your cheek.
“The mark.” 
You glance down and realize he must mean your tattoo. Since they aren’t all that common, you try to keep it covered. Fewer questions that way. “Erm, nothing?” Your hopeful tone does not dissuade his keen gaze.
Kanetsugu nudges up the edge of your cuff with the tip of his finger until the heron in flight is exposed. The colors look soft in the lantern light, the delicate lines a bare delineation between ink and skin. “That is not nothing.”
You wince at the slight frown he gives you and try to pull your sleeve back down. “It isn’t any of your business.” You try for the villainess voice, but sound squeaky even to your own ears. 
He doesn’t move his hand, even after a moment of your struggling. 
“Fine.” You sigh. “It’s a tattoo.”
Kanetsugu leans closer. His hair brushes your neck, and the smell of him floods your senses. 
You can feel his gaze on your arm, and heat travels from there up through your heart and floods your cheeks. Your heart is pounding and you struggle to keep your expression serene. It is absolutely unfair that he is so attractive, you think. 
His eyes turn toward you, and he waits for more with an expression somewhere between impatience and mild curiosity. 
It takes you a moment to gather yourself under that relentless stare. “Erm. I mean, ah, it’s a heron?”
“I am waiting to hear why you’ve branded yourself like a criminal.” 
Your temper flares at that, and you give him a frown. “I seriously doubt any criminal has flash that looks this nice. Seriously.” You smooth a finger over the design, remembering the day you got it. “This represents blessings for me. A promise that things will always get better. And I - I think it looks really elegant.” 
“I did not say it wasn’t.” His voice drops, a glimpse of fang at the corner of his lip as it compresses. “It is . . . lovely.” Kanetusugu’s thumb brushes over the inked skin, though his eyes are still fixed on yours.
“Thanks for the compliment,” you murmur, suddenly feeling as if it’s hard to draw breath. He is still so close, and it’s doing things to your heart that are hard to ignore. 
“Beauty should be appreciated.” 
You hope he can’t feel your racing pulse under his hand.”I-if you’re done appreciating?” You wiggle your arm, hoping he’ll let go, and hoping he won’t. Get it together, you tell yourself sternly, and pull with a little more force. 
Too much, perhaps, as Kanetsugu, is tugged toward you. Only by a hair’s breadth, but then, that’s almost all that separates you. His lips brush your jaw, an accidental kiss. He lets go of you and steps back with a strangled breath. For a moment, his eyes are wide and there’s a slight flush to his cheek.
“K-kanetsugu?” You feel warmth slip through you from the spot his lips touched. 
He turns away and clears his throat. “Thank you for the explanation.” His voice is calm and by the time he’s seated again, there’s no trace of discomfiture in his expression.
You, on the other hand, are ruffled. Very ruffled. “I think I’m going to step, mmm, outside. For a minute.” You stand and try to shake off the feelings tangled around your heart. 
“Don’t go far,” he calls, not glancing up from the paperwork on his desk.
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lichtluv · 16 days
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╔══ஓ๑☾๑ஓ══╗
𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬,
𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬...
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𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞,
𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐞...
𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬.
╚══ஓ๑☽๑ஓ══╝
↝ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ʀᴇx ᴍᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅ.
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danyxhz · 3 months
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Ren fanart from 14 days with you
I really like how Ren turned out. I’m getting better and better. This novel inspired me a lot.
I don’t know it its a good idea to start my own novel tho. I’m too broke. Would you like it if I tried?
Reply if you see this :’). I’d really appreciate it. Also repost pls.
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wrrrenff · 5 months
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Restless Nights In the Devildom
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Obey Me: Shall We Date Mammon x F! Reader Synopsis: After a long day in the devildom you can't seem to get any sleep! So of course the only thing to do is go annoy your best friend Mammon. Thing don't turn out as expected when you get to his room...
Warnings: 18+, smut, restraints, bondage, p in v sex, kissing, marking, domination
Gif credits to the creator!
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Today had really taken its toll. Three exams, breaking up a fight between Satan and Lucifer, and in the middle of cooking dinner for everyone Beel kept trying to eat my ingredients! All of it was adding up and you were dead tired. So why couldn’t you fall asleep? It’s been two and a half hours and nothing. You could cry at how frustrated you were.
You decided that if you can’t sleep you might as well go annoy your favorite demon. You don’t even bother to knock on Mammon’s door. At this point you are both so used to each other just barging in. When you opened the door you noticed a lump on the bed. As you got closer you saw the white hair you’re so familiar with. He was asleep. Perfect opportunity to fuck with him. His face does look really peaceful… Do you really want to ruin that? Hehe fuck yeah i do.
You slowly reach towards his shoulder, ready to shake the ever-living hell out of him. As soon as you make contact Mammon grabs your hand and quickly fling you onto his bed and straddles you and holds your wrists tightly against the mattress. *What the fuck just happened* you thought.
His furious eyes take a moment before realizing who is underneath him. He smirked. “Well well well. Look who we have here. Does the little human think she can sneak up on me that easily?”
You were breathing hard. This is not how you expected this to go at all. But you weren’t mad at this situation. Or the position.
“You okay princess? You’re breathing real heavy.” Mammon said with slight concern, slightly lifting his weight off your legs but still holding your wrists tight.
You liked this. You didn’t want it to stop. Instead of responding you decided to try something. Slowly but carefully, you lift your knee and press it between his legs, rubbing it back and forth slightly. Mammon moaned. Hard. So devilishly sweet.
“Oh, you want to play like that huh?” Mammon flew off of you and started digging through his dresser drawer. Did he not like it? You worried that you upset him and went too far. That is, until he turned around and you saw the rope and cuffs.
Before you even had a second to think you were being tied up to the demon’s bed frame. You pull at the restraints with no luck at getting out.
“Too tight?”
“They’re fine but…”
The demon raised a brow. He gently grabbed your chin and slowly lifted your face until you were forced to look at him. “What is it darling? Use your words.”
Damn demon. You didn’t want to admit how badly you wanted him but you conceded. “I want to touch you. Make you feel good.”
He chuckled, low and rumbly. It made you squirm. “You came to me. I make the rules. You’re lucky I didn’t use my gag.”
“Well there’s already one flaw in your plan, genius. You forgot to take my clothes off before tying me up.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem sweetheart.” Suddenly he uses his strength to rip your clothes off. It was so easy for him. Like taking a tissue out of the box.
“So wet for me already and we’ve barely even started.”
He was staring at your figure, eyes full of lust. They were hungry eyes, intimidating. You couldn’t help but shift under him, suddenly feeling self conscious. Before you had too much more time to think about it, Mammon dove in and kissed you hard. You didn’t reciprocate at first, taking a moment to register what was happening, but quickly enough you came to your senses and kissed back. Mammon place one hand on the back of your head, slightly pulling at your hair, his other hand at your breast, lightly teasing your nipple.
He started moving his lips lower. Down your neck biting and sucking hard, almost like he was trying to leave the most obvious marks he could so everyone would know you belonged to him, even if just for this one time. He is the demon of greed after all.
You were a moaning mess. You wanted to touch him. Feel the closeness between you too. It was so FRUSTRATING. It didn’t take long for your moans to turn to impatient whines.
“What’s the matter, princess?”
“I- I want to feel you” you were a panting mess.
“Not yet, baby.”
“Can’t you at least strip too? I want to see you. All of you.”
He seemed to contemplate this for a moment, stroking his chin in the most dramatic way like the idiot he is. He was drawing this out. After a minute he got close to your face and whispered “I’ll see what I can do”
He straddled you and started taking his shirt off. You’ve seen him shirtless before but this time was different. You’ve never wanted to feel up to someone more than you did right now. You try to reach for him but don’t get very far due to the cuffs.
“You’re cute” He continues stripping, your eyes watching hungrily. As he takes off his underwear you can’t help but wonder how the fuck that thing is going to fit inside of you. But you didn’t care. You want him and you want him now.
“Fuck me please! I need it now!” You were practically begging at this point. You could see Mammon wanted to tease you some more but even he was getting to his breaking point. He lines up with your entrance and slowly starts pushing in.
“F-fuuuuucking hell!”
He stops half way through. “Need a sec?”
You nod, struggling a bit to get any words out. After a moment you tell him to continue. He eventually bottoms out inside of you and you have never felt so full in you life. You Loved it, but you needed more.
“Move please!”
“As you wish my princess.”
He starts thrusting and immediately hitting all the right spots. Mammon leaned down and started lapping and sucking one breast while teasing the other with his hand. Feeling the heat between your bodies and all of the sensations he was making you feel, it was pure bliss.
“Mammon faster! Break me!”
Without any hesitation he started going faster and harder, your hips meeting his as best they could considering the restraints. The bed was creaking like crazy. Any other day you’d be worried that this much noise would get you in trouble with Lucifer but you could deal with the consequences later. Mammon moved off your breast and up to your neck, creating more love bites. You were getting close and he could tell. Mammon reached down between you and started rubbing your clit in circles, turning you into a blubbering mess. You couldn’t even form words and more. The only sounds filling the room at this point was just the sound of skin and both of your grunts and moans.
Feeling himself getting closer to the edge, Mammon angled himself a bit differently and was hitting your g-spot perfectly. Only a few more thrusts and you were cumming hard. You went to grab Mammon as you came but were stopped by your cuffs so you were just squirming as you came.
You lay there, still bound by the handcuffs and ropes as Mammon kept pounding into you. You were so sensitive. It felt great. Each thrust into you had you whimpering. He just kept hitting your g-spot. After a minute, it was like you had gained a second wind and you could feel yourself getting close again. Mammon, realizing this, started thrusting even harder into you. You could swear the bed was going to break. Soon you both came, screaming each other's names. You were in such a trance after that you didn’t even know your own name. Mammon collapsed on top of you, panting like crazy. After catching his breath and regaining some strength, Mammon released you from your restraints. You immediately grabbed onto him like a koala to a tree. He chuckled and held you close.
After a few minutes of cuddling, you finally broke the silence. “You know, I just came in here to annoy you but if the thanks I get for barging in here, I think I need to do it more often”
The demon smirked “From here on out you can expect a lot more, princess.” You both cuddled up as close as you could to each other and eventually drifted off into the deepest most refreshing sleep you’ve ever had.
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llyuvvia · 2 years
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POV: They broke into your room while you were changing.
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Absolutely not me, with my terrible English and being unable to maintain constant art style through six images (눈‸눈)
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promiself · 3 months
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Dr. Zayne ❄️
Cozy Afternoon
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studioghostlegs · 10 months
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"With every wave, a new adventure..."🌊
With four unique endings, Pearlglow Cafe: Sweet Crumb Kisses is a cozy otome visual novel about...
🌞New beginnings
🌞Gentle romances
🌞Delectably sweet treats
✨ PLAY IT NOW✨
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inzayneity · 3 months
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⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒑 𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑𝒔...
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𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
↷ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ ᴍᴏᴏᴅʙᴏᴀʀᴅ.
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elidoesart · 4 months
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Alright bbg 🫶 @yuikomorii
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ashureiho · 10 months
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マモンはおべいみーから愚者タロットカード The Fools Card Tarot Mammon Lord of Fools, Obey Me!
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chevlvrs · 1 day
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Unfortunately i will always love the poster boys
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ikeromantic · 15 days
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Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 2
Thank you again to @otomedad for this idea!
Kenshin, Shingen, and Yoshimoto. Approx. 2400 words. Part 1 here!
Kenshin
Kenshin froze mid-step, his mismatched eyes going wide. You froze too, a shout of surprise caught behind your lips. Your kimono hung open, half undressed as you prepared for a bath.
The tub of steaming water sat behind a decorative screen, and you were wishing you were behind it too. “Umm. Hi?” You tug the fabric closed, your face hot. 
He swallows, and turns his head to look down the empty corridor leading to your ‘room’. “You were not expecting me. I will go.”
“No, wait!” Your voice startles you as much as him. Kenshin turns his head to glance your direction expectantly. You pause, unsure what to say. “I was hoping you would come today.” 
If anything, this seems to surprise him even more than seeing you unclothed. 
“If you like, you can wait with me for the bathwater to cool down. It’s too hot to soak in right now.” You sit down on the small stool beside the bars of your well-appointed cell. 
Kenshin says nothing for a long moment, then he nods. There is something unsettled about him as he pulls up a stool to sit across from you. “Is there anything you need?”
You shrug, glancing around at the stone walls and wooden bars. “Out? Other than that, no.”
He looks down, his lips twisting in a faint grimace. The frown turns to puzzlement. “What is that?”
You realize he’s noticed the cherry blossom petal on the top of your bare foot. “Oh. It’s part of my tattoo.” You carefully shift your kimono open a little bit to show the rest of your leg. Cherry blossoms and pink petals dance across your skin, as if floating on a forever breeze in some place where it is always spring. 
Kenshin regards the ink with more curiosity than you expected. His hand drifts toward the bars that separate you. “Beautiful,” he breathes. 
Your skin prickles and warms with expectation of his touch. The tip of his cool, calloused finger brushes your calf, setting your heart off at a gallop. You aren’t sure if the butterflies in your belly are from the compliment or the feel of his hand on your leg. 
“It does not come off,” he states, rather than asks. 
“Right. It’s ink under my skin so . . . I guess I’m stuck with it for life.” You try for a carefree smile, but miss the mark as his eyes flick up to meet yours. 
Kenshin considers this for a moment, then nods. “It is like a scar, then.” His eyes narrow. “Why was this done to you?”
You do smile then, at the protective note in his voice. “I did it to me. Or, at least, I picked the design and the spot. I wanted something to remind me that life is short. To enjoy the beauty in it, as long as it lasts. Because, you know. It won’t last long.” 
His fingers trace the edges of the petals and blossoms, moving up past your knee to the top of the flowers on your thigh. “The inevitability of loss,” he says, more to himself than to you. There is something warm in his eyes, something fragile.
“No,” you shake your head. “The celebration of beauty, however fleeting. Take joy where you can, right?” 
“Take joy . . .” His gaze falls back to your leg, and he snatches his hand away as if suddenly scalded by your skin. Shutters of ice close him off from you again as he stands. 
You stand as well, reaching for him through the cell bars. Your fingers brush his shoulder before he steps back. 
“If there is nothing you need, I will go.”
“I do need something.” Your voice shakes a little as your hand drops to your side. “I wish you’d visit me more often. Stay for a little longer when you do. I like being around you.”
Kenshin does not reply. He studies you for a moment, before turning away. His steps echo down the empty corridor, making you feel somehow even more alone than before he came. 
Shingen
Shingen’s hand trailed along the smooth silk of your kimono, the warmth of his touch soaking through to your back. He wasn’t technically supposed to be touching you, just watching the stars. But he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself, and you weren’t going to complain. Not tonight, anyway.
“Are you sore, angel,” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“No,” you shot back, then admitted, “a little.” The day’s hike through mountainous forest hadn’t been easy, especially carrying a pack. You regretted insisting on carrying it, but pride wouldn’t let you take it easy. 
Shingen’s lips curled up in a subtle smile. “I see.” His hand stilled on your back. “You know what the best thing for sore muscles is?”
You turn your head to regard him, sensing a trap. “A hot bath?”
“Those are pretty good. But love is what makes the angel sing.” He grins at you, playful and teasing.
“Seriously, Shingen?” You huff and pull away from his touch.
He sighs. “Can’t blame a guy for trying. It’s not every day an actual goddess graces me with her presence.” 
You glare at him, annoyed and flattered and annoyed with yourself for being flattered. “Whatever. I’m going inside.”
“Don’t leave, angel.” There’s a slight pleading tone to his voice. “As an apology, let me give you a shoulder rub. It will make us both feel better. I promise.” The sensual tilt of his lips and the appeal in his gaze give you pause. A massage would feel nice, but . . .
“No. I don’t trust you.” The words leave your mouth in a rushed exhalation, leaving so much unsaid. It wasn’t Shingen you didn’t trust, it was yourself. 
He looked down, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim starlight. “I promise, I’m not trying to make you mine.” Shingen held his hands out as if in surrender. “Let me help?”
The silence between you expands, an almost physical thing pressing against your skin and making it hard to breathe. You give a curt nod, giving in to what you know you want, even if you can’t admit it. 
Shingen settles behind you. His hands slide down your shoulders, gently tugging your kimono down to bare them. His breath catches and he goes still. 
For a moment, you are confused, and then you realize he must have seen it. Your tattoo. Maple leaves drifting along your spine, from just below your neck to your hip. A riot of warm colors and fine lines etching your skin. You still remember the pain of having it done. But it was worth it. “Something wrong?” You try for a teasing tone, but your voice is too breathy to make that mark.
 “Your back -” He pulls your kimono lower still, revealing more of the falling leaves. His calloused hand presses against the ink as if to wipe it away. “My angel is a work of art.”
A shiver runs through your skin at the feel of his hand on you. Your galloping heart speeds even more, racing uncontrollably as heat flushes your face. “You’re not supposed to be flirting,” you manage.
Shingen’s laugh sends a puff of warm breath across your neck. “That wasn’t flirting. I’m only stating the obvious.” His thumbs press into your tense, tired flesh, a gentle pressure to ease sore muscles. “Is the art something from your village? I have never seen anything like it painted into skin.”
You struggle for a moment to find words, distracted by his closeness and the intimacy of his touch. He clearly knows how to give a massage, and the sensation is short circuiting your brain. “Umm. It . . . mmmm . . . I got it to remind myself.”
“Of?” His lips are distressingly close to the leaf at the top of your spine, almost brushing the inked skin.
“Th-that I am carried. Forward. Even when life is tough. Like a leaf in the wind. Do what I can and leave what I can’t to fate. Or god. Or . . . chaos, I guess. Trust that life is - is pushing me to where I need to be.” You stutter through an explanation, leaving out all the context and emotion surrounding the decision on this image in this spot in those colors.
Shingen is quiet for a while, his skilled hands working out the knots in your shoulders and upper back. “My angel is a philosopher. Something holding us up in our worst moments.” He sounds more thoughtful than you expected when he finally speaks. Rather than blowing off the meaning of the design, he seems interested. 
“I needed something to hang on to,” you say softly, self-consciously. His praise feels undeserved, but makes your heart feel full, your chest tight.
“We all do, sometimes.” You feel the press of a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.
Quiet descends between you again, a soft silence of connection and comfort. 
Yoshimoto
You sit completely still, afraid to even breathe deeply. Yoshimoto’s fingers comb gently through your hair, coaxing it into position. He hums a tune you almost recognize as he works, styling you for the artists that will arrive soon. 
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I bet there are a lot of more qualified models in Kasugayama,” you say through stiff lips. This whole idea has you on edge. Art is wonderful, and you love making it - but being in it? Not so much. 
Yoshimoto adjusts your necklace. “You are perfect. There is none more qualified.” He steps back, inspecting his work. 
“I am so very not perfect,” you argue, thinking of all the parts of yourself you’d change if you could. “Surely Okuni would be better -”
“No. I want them to paint you.” The way he says it sends a thrill through you, as if he would value more your image than any other. Which can’t be true. Yoshimoto is just an appreciator of art. And you, as his friend and student, happened to be available for this painting session with some up and coming artists. 
You take a shallow breath. The next part will be the hardest, even knowing it is coming. “Fine. I guess.” The blanket in your lap seems smaller by the moment and you feel heat rising in your cheeks as you take it in one hand. 
Yoshimoto smiles and moves close again, his fingers hover at the edge of the decorative kimono draped over your shoulders. “I am honored by your trust in me.” 
“Wait!” You take a deeper breath, a panicky feeling welling up in your chest. “I can’t model. I - I have a tattoo!” You feel a sudden certainty that, just like your parents, Yoshimoto will hate the ink on your skin, and the artists will refuse to paint you, and - and -
He settles a hand on your cheek, turning your head toward him. “Thank you for telling me. May I see it?” His eyes are wide and clear, empty of judgment or censure. 
You study his face a moment longer, feeling self conscious. “Ok.”
He pulls the fabric down as you lift the blanket to your chest. Almost the pose you were meant to take for the artists.
Despite the white silk now covering your breasts, you feel exposed. Your entire back on display, bare shouldered and covered with almost nothing from the back of your neck to the top of your butt cheeks. Vulnerable. On display. You wait for Yoshimoto to say something, but he is silent. 
“Well?” Your voice is sharp and anxious, and you resist the urge to tug the fabric up and hide behind it.
Yoshimoto takes a breath. His hands brush your sides, stopping at the edges of your tattoo. Chrysanthemums spread from the center of your back to your hips, delicate and colorful. He kneels to look at them more closely, close enough that his hair tickles against your skin. 
You love the way they look, bright and playful. Accentuating the natural curves of your low back and hip. But you can’t tell what his reaction is. His quiet only wrenches your nerves tighter. “If you don’t say something, I think I’m going to cry.”
His soft touch brushes the inked flowers, as if painting the petals with his fingertips. “I . . . I did not expect . . .”
“It’s fine.” You reach for the kimono, ready to cover up and escape with a little dignity. 
Yoshimoto’s hand catches yours. “Please. Let me look a little longer. It is beautiful.” His gaze meets yours, fey eyes almost aglow. “You are beautiful.” 
Your breath catches, there is a tightness in your chest. A trembling, uncertain emotion that you cannot name. “Alright.” 
His smile is tender and affectionate as his eyes drift back to your tattoo. “These colors are amazing. I have never seen such bright irezumi. And the way it follows the shape of your body -” His caress sends a pleasant shock up your back and sets your pulse pounding. “This was done by a master artist. Only fitting for such a canvas.”
“They were really good,” you nod, recalling the waitlist and the cost. “They designed it for me after I told them what I wanted. Something with meaning, memories and promises. I wanted to look at it the rest of my life and know it holds what is close to my heart.” 
You gesture toward the flowers he is touching. “Red for the promise of love, yellow for what I’ve lost, white for loyalty. And all of it together for beauty, inside and out.” The words pour out as if from a broken dam. You’ve never told anyone all of this, never had the opportunity or the trust. But you want Yoshimoto to know you. To understand you.
“Did you know it is also a symbol of royalty?” His voice is soft, barely audible. 
“I do. Not that I am. Royal. I mean, Nobunaga made me a princess but I’m just a normal person. Nothing special.” You shrug. “I just thought it was a really pretty flower.”
Yoshimoto’s arms wrap around you, and his cheek rests against your back. You feel the flutter of his eyelids as he closes them. “You are special. Talented and beautiful and kind. I can think of no other more deserving of such a mark.”
Bittersweet pleasure floods you. There is nothing you can say to that, and so you let yourself enjoy his embrace. The feel of him pressed close. If only it could last. If only you could speak the words that lie heavy in your heart. If, if, if.
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lichtluv · 1 month
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┌─── ・ 。゚★: *.☪ .* :☆゚. ───┐
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒊𝒕...
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𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕.
└─── ・ 。゚★: *.☪ .* :☆゚. ───┘
↳ 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘵 & 𝘯𝘰𝘬𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥.
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condemnedtranscendent · 2 months
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day 20, mdni please
(moved fo nsfw blog, check reblogs for original post)
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jessikimart · 1 month
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Did you get mysterious messages?
Yoosung Kim ★, Mystic Messenger
(I'm re uploading this with glaze!)
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