#if you have a body it deserves to be cherished and revered | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojisun · 6 months

Note

OMG ive got smth else for u

Give by sleep token is sooo biker!simon coded ahhh😩😭😭

I AM THE SHADOW, YOU ARE A PASSENGER

IF YOU WANT TO GIVE, THEN GIVE ME ALL THAT YOU CAN GIVE

I WANT TO TASTE YOU BETTER

anon u are too sick for this one now im genuinely spiralling??? how do i move on!! HOW DO I LISTEN TO SLEEP TOKEN WITHOUT ENVISIONING BIKER!SIMON???

this fits sooo well with that one consistent brainworm that wont let me go since it manifested – it’s from when i was answering honey’s ask!!

how a subset of biker!simon is him and you being friends for a while but you’re with a partner who doesn’t appreciate you and love you the way you should be, and simon ofc doesnt wanna just be like “i can treat you better sweet girl” BUT ONE DAY HE WHISKS YOU AWAY WHEN YOUR PARTNER DID SMTHN THAT ENDED UP WITH SIMON HAVING SPLIT KNUCKLES, HIS HELMET STRAPPED ON YOUR HEAD, AND HIM AND YOU ON HIS BIKE AS HE DRIVES YOU AWAY AHHHH

on my knees right now???

the way you’re crying in his arms, pressing your face on his back and it’s a little awkward because of the helmet and simon’s feeling the ridges of the visor dig into his back, but god simon’s trying his best not to explode. trying his best not to just swerve into the nearest empty lot because he wants you as far away from your shit of a boyfriend.

and when he finds an empty park, away from the suburbs and from the bastard who made you cry, simon pulls over and tugs at your helmet to take it off before scooping you in his arms and tucking your face on the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. he holds you close and he holds you tight, letting his silence wrap around you. he kisses the top of your head, breathing you in, feeling his own blood calm down because you’re in his arms now. safe, loved, cherished.

the way when you ask him why’s he being too kind, too considerate, simon bites the words that threaten to spill because you deserve more than a rushed confession. so he just presses a kiss on your forehead and tells you he’ll always be here for you. always be here to help you throughout.

you end it off with your boyfriend that same night, your body shuddering with sobs but god you feel better. feel lighter.

and it’s gradual – the way you fall in love with simon. the way your eyes see him as more than your best friend, more than your platonic soulmate. and you’re scared to fuck things up, but god the way simon looks at you, all adoring and reverent, makes you weak.

the words spill from your lips on a thursday morning when you dropped by simon’s place only to see him tinkering on his bike in the garage.

you’re about to crouch down and settle on the floor the way you had always done before but pause when simon tells you so.

“i got y’somethin’,” he says, blushing just a bit. you watch as he walks towards the cleared-out corner of his garage, just noticing the covered lump there.

he turns to you with a smile and tugs at the sheet, revealing a pretty, pink, velvet loveseat.

“so you don’t have to sit on the floor w’me,” he says after a while, taking your silence for confusion.

“it’s… mine?”

simon laughs, something boyish. “yeah. all y’rs, doll. i’m used to the hard surface but i see you rubbin’ at your ass when i take too long so i got you this to help out.”

what the fuck?

he blinks. the smile slipping from his lips. “i mean, you don’t have to use it.”

fuck. you said that out loud? stupid-

“no, si, oh my god! it’s perfect!” you scramble to tell him, practically running towards where he’s standing. “i’m just- i don’t know- no one has ever-”

to your horror, tears began pooling in the corners of your eyes. simon stares at you in surprise, his face falling as worry lines his beautiful features. you try to assure him that you’re doing okay, but a pathetic wet sob lurches out of your throat instead.

“fuck,” you say, aggressively wiping at your weeping eyes. “i’m so sorry for this, si. i just- i fucking love you so much and i don’t know how to-”

you startle when big hands pull your fists away from your eyes. you see simon staring at you in shock.

“you love me?” he asks, almost breathless like he is afraid of being wrong. afraid that if he spoke any louder, it will lead to you rejecting him.

but how could you ever?

“i do,” you tell him. “i love you so much, si. i think i always have-”

he cuts you off again, but this time with his lips. his big and callused hands are gentle as they cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him like he still can’t believe that you love him back.

“i love you too, sweetheart,” simon murmurs on your lips when he finally pulls back, your breaths passing through each other in gasps. “i fuckin’ love you.”

so clearly i went fucking bonkers-

SORRY IT GOT TOO LONG MY GOD

#suns.hc #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #anon #ask #suns #IM ACTUALLY GONNA SCTRSM AND CHEW ON MY FIST HHDHWJENEJJE

733 notes · View notes

queenie-avenue · 6 months

Text

Before the sun rises, stay.

—> every part of you is beautiful, so let Artem cherish this moment more.

⤻reader is gender-neutral, fluff, mornings with artem, clingy artem, established relationship, sfw, no content warnings, reader can be seen as Rosa if you want to

🦋 ⤻ archives.

Artem was usually the early bird. Even during the weekends, he would get up at six o'clock right on the dot, not a minute less nor more. People called him a robot because of it, but he didn't see the value in dwelling on others' opinions, but yours? Artem felt on edge every time you glanced at him, and he could not help but wonder what was going on in your pretty little mind.

Do you find me too emotionless?

Do I show you I love you enough?

What would you like me to do?

Shall I do this? Shall I do that, instead? Will you love me more if I do?

Such thoughts plagued Artem Wing's mind often.

Which was probably why he was being like this right now, waking up a few minutes earlier than usual just to stare at your glorious face. It had become a habit.

A bit of sunlight pooled in through the cracks of the curtains that did not cover the window fully, illuminating your glorious face. Even now, as he lay in bed with you, Artem could not believe that he had gotten you — the love of his life — to fall in love with him. What did you see in him?

He reached out to your face in reverence and laid his hands on your soft cheek, caressing every bump or scar you could possibly have as he smiled. Once again, he could not help but wonder what he had done to deserve this.

He leaned in closer, observing every bit of your face; from your lashes to your lips that were chapped from the air conditioning, every part of you was perfect in Artem's eyes. He let out a shaky breath as he lay his head closer to yours, seeking comfort in the crook of your neck desperately. He breathed in your scent and let out a small groan, he really really hoped this was not some sort of dream or fantasy he would have to wake up from.

Suddenly, the alarm for six o'clock rang, and his eyes widened as you stirred in bed, eyes slowly fluttering open to Artem's bewilderment. He watched as your countenance shift from tiredness to adoration as your eyes met his.

Artem quickly shifted to turn the alarm off, never once leaving your side.

"Did I wake you up?" His raspy morning voice asked softly, not wanting to startle you too much so early in the morning.

"Good morning," you greeted first before answering him. "No, you didn't. The alarm did." You joked to him, to which he chuckled back and shook his head.

"I need to remember to turn off that alarm when I wake up next time." Artem scolded himself.

"No, no, it's fine. I need to get up anyway." You yawned, preparing to rise from the comfortable sheets of Artem's bed.

Surprisingly, though, two lean arms pull you downward.

"We don't need to arrive in the office so early today." Your eyes widened at your darling's words. Never before had you seen nor heard this disciplined man suggest the idea of being a tad bit late to the office, even if he wasn't required to clock in early. It seemed that Artem sensed your shock and blushed a deep shade of crimson. "I just thought that..." He started, his arms loosening on your body.

Upon realising the insecurity you inflicted onto Artem, you quickly wrapped your arms around him, returning his bear hug with a goofy grin.

"I just thought that we could spend more time before the sun properly rose." Said Artem, looking up at you for approval.

"That works." You smiled back as you eased into his hold.

This time, it was Artem's turn to flash a goofy smile as his grasp tightened again; not too harsh nor too soft, just enough so you would not be able to escape. He leaned in, his hot breath hitting your nape which caused a shiver to travel down your spine and before you could say anything else, Artem was already assaulting your neck with soft kisses and sweet words to your ears.

"I love you." Artem said as his laps dragged up from the side of your neck to your jaw, peppering excessive kisses — he didn't view it that way — against your skin. "I love you." He repeated again as his lips finally met yours.

"I love you too." You replied and Artem felt like all the weight on his shoulders just dispersed.

Artem looked down at you. You were perfect, that [e/c] shade of your eyes, the way your cheeks felt in his tough hands, the warmth of your body compared to his and the way you looked up at him with so much want yet with a hint of bashfulness.

It was like you were beckoning him to fall deeper into the rabbit hole that was you.

"I love you." He repeated breathily onto your lips as he pressed against them once again.

Not that he minded. He would gladly fall deeper for you if that was even possible.

"I love you more than anything." He promised.

"I love you, too." You giggled back, holding him closer to you. "I love you so much."

He wished that time could stop right now, just so he'd be able to cherish this moment — cherish you — for a longer period of time.

For now, as long as the sun was not fully in the sky, you were his to worship.

#tears of themis #artem wing #artem wing x reader #zuo ran #fanfic #fluff #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis imagines #tot #zuo ran x reader #artem x reader #artem wing imagine

289 notes · View notes

sincerelyy-youres · 11 months

Text

Gaze Upon Me (Yandere Nanook × Aeon! Reader)

Sypnosis: The vast oceans of stars in the sky offers many great and terrifying encounters, one of which is when Aeons cross paths with one another. Others devour and others work together, but what if one falls madly in love with the other?

TW: Obssesion, stalking and implied kidnapping. Read at your own risk

You were too stubborn to understand Akivili's warning.

It's not as if it wasn't important that you weren't giving it much thought, but it was the fact that you already convinced yourself that it won't happen. It was already a thousand centuries ago when you first defended the people of "Adlivun" from the raging war declared by their very own emperor. You were weak then, being born just a few years ago from the death of a star system that greatly cherishes perseverance, and as all aeons needs to get a job done, you did your first and very own.

You are the Aeon of Resistance, and people who is opressed and cornered deserves as much as justice that they need to have. You answer to their every call, to their every will to resist, and your greatest regrets is when your own resistance falters, letting the enemy win, letting the opposition lose.

Adlivun is your first and biggest regret.

Being the youngest Aeon back then, you underestimated the power of man. The Emperor's manpower and soldiers were much more than a small group of people that wanted to resist, relying solely on your grace. Before you can even think of a way to save your people, the power of the emperor advances, leaving you hopeless. You left Adlivun in shame that day, the image of mangled bodies of the people that once revered you still fresh in your mind, their dying eyes showing a shade of disappointment.

You ran away far, far away from the accusatory stares that you feel in your back until you bumped into Akivili, The Aeon of Trailblaze, who had just left Adlivun in disbelief. You didn't beg them to let you in, to ask what had become of Adlivun as you left, but nevertheless they took you in, and said you were free to stay with them until you learn to become your own.

It was the first ever recorded interaction in which two aeons traversed the stars together. Perhaps Fuli the Remembrance gazed at the moment, at the interaction, and deemed it worthy of a memory in the garden of recollection. As the two of you traveled together, Akivili told you of what happened to Adlivun, and the fate that might befall of you soon.

"When I arrived there, Adlivun was an absolute resorvoir of chaos. What remains of them were unlucky enough to be in the path of the Aeon of Propagation." They said, their voice expressing disappointment. Akivili had no physical form, and you only see them in a form of a warm light, like a companion in every cold weathered, or rather, in this cold universe's travels. Perhaps in the entirety of their journey, never had they come across to something as cold as the fate of Adlivun.

"I left Adlivun when the resistance fell... perhaps fate recognizes the wishes of the dead." You said, having mixed emotions of the situation. As the Aeon of Resistance, you of course value absolute persistence, but your people, the opposition of Adlivun had long perished. What victory is there to enjoy when the people are dead?

"I saw the Emperor and his people fight with all their might, but their physique is evidently tired with their previous war." You can almost see Akivili shake their head, "Eventually Tayzzyronth the Propagation defeated what was left of there, and their faction, the Swarm's March, led the final blow"

"I left before Tayzzyronth notices me, but in a distance as I jumped between universes, before I even bumped into you, I saw how Adlivun died...It exploded, then a gold glow emanated from all the debris."

Akivili was quiet after their statement and it made you think. A gold glow emenating from a fallen world means one thing: An Aeon is born. Considering what Adlivun's state is before it died, theres no question what kind of Aeon it was. Destructive, chaotic, always craving of absolute doom, reckless, and wrathful. It was--

"An Aeon is born" said Akivili, after that long silence of what seems of them pondering. "And a path along with them. The path of destruction. They are probably moving and causing chaos everywhere as we speak, and posing a threat, especially to you."

You frowned. "But what do they have to do with me? The emperor won against the resistance and I am not the one who destroyed their homeworld. It is not reasonable for them to come after me." No matter what angle you look at, the path of destruction should not be directed to you, and if by any means it does...

"Had you ever heard of history repeating itself?" Akivili suddenly said, cutting you off of your train of thoughts. "Destruction seeks resistance, not just of absolute infliction of doom. Think of it this way, where is the thrill when everyone just submitted to domination? Something had to resist, and the process of breaking that something into submission, is what true destruction is"

If the path of destruction is directed to you, then you are to resist. But, you still resist the fact that destruction persuing resistance is written in finality. If what destruction seeks is absolute submission, then why go through the long and tedious process of persuing resistance knowing that it won't give in? It is resistance for a reason. If true destruction is breaking something into submission, why not persue a path that manifests the values of submission so the job can be easily done?

You heard Akivili chuckle at you, they had probably noticed that you were so deep in though about their words. Just as you were about to spout a long rebuttal, Akivili spoke, not wanting to argue any longer.

"I see you still resist the possibility, but soon enough you'll understand. Just a warning, though, you may be the Aeon of Resistance, but you can't resist everything."

And with that, Akivili left you on your own. You sat there, pondering over the Aeon's words. How you wished you listened to them before they perished, back then. Their radiant light, how you wished you still see how beautiful it is before it was snatched from you by darkness, holding them at the palm of destruction's hands before ultimately blowing out what was left of their power.

If anything, you should have known better than to question your companion's thoughts. If only you just listened, if only you didn't resist their concise analysations, then you wouldn't have to deal with this abomination of man who chases you althroughout the universe as if you did something unexcusable to him. Then, you wouldn't have to jump to one universe after the other seeking temporary refuge when you lingered too long.

Resistance persevere because it fights for what it was worth fighting for. It was ironic, considering you choose to constantly flee from the oppression, but it was almost understandable. You fled when the resistance of Adlivun fell. So you also constanly fly away when Akivili was killed. Both of which was worth fighting for, and as much as the reality pains you, the truth is that resistance falters when the reason to resist dies.

After all, Akivili...you'd seen them die before your very own eyes. And in which, before the destruction constantly chases after you

This space you were currently in, was a temporary home you'd find yourself residing after barely getting from the Aeon of Destruction. If anything, you yourself doesn't know why he is constantly chasing after you, but you don't intend to find the reason why, and you don't want to satisfy him by giving yourself in.

Even though the will to resist is weak, it will still resist. Even as you felt the weight of his gaze, again, after barely getting away, you'll resist. That gaze that felt like it materializes into a physical form, it was all too familliar, following your every move as you panicked, as you desperately tried to find any hint of his arrival to counter his chase with flight.

He's here

Your focus shifted as you felt his gaze narrow, and along with it was the visions it brings. Your vision blurs, to what was once the stars that fills this desolate space, begins to open a portal of gold. Gold eyes, white braided hair and tanned skin. Deformed arms and gold corruption seeping in between the cracks in his skin, and the sharp, smothering, and somewhat possesive gaze as he looks down at you. He smiled, and it became a terrifying grin as his arms reaches out for you, seeking to trap you inside a make shift, sub-reality prison that only he knew the existence of.

It made you unsettled, but still quick witted enough to avoid his confrontation as he charges towards you. Just in time to get out of his inflicted delirium. You looked at him, and when he realized that he didn't caught you in his arms after all, he went again and charges towards you, and he looks so confident that he will succeed, making you flee towards the nearest possible exit in this space that you once found comfort into, where his prescence wasn't shown.

But your escape was short lived when the exit was apparently blocked by some kind of a Gold barrier, the light of the next space fading away like how a light in the end of the tunnel would be blocked if the tunnel collapsed. Despairingly, you turned around, only to see his face expressing a delirious satisfaction.

Akivili was right. History repeated itself. The emperor defeated the resistance of Adlivun centuries ago and now... you were being captured by the remains of that war. It was humiliating, knowing all you can do is to resist.

Slowly, Nanook's arms reaches out for you, and all you'd ever do was fight his possesive gaze with your wrathful glare. Your power was blocked by some kind of force, One that you cannot exactly root out it's origins, but all you can say is that it was slowly inviting you in a forced slumber, whispering incoherent lullabies and doom, And the last you'd ever seen was his satisfied smile.

Perhaps, the true reason of his unnatural and perplexing obssesion over you was already there, laid out for you, just in the naked eye. It was as simple as Akivili had said it, that Nanook wanted "true destruction". And in true destruction, there was you.

It was too late now, to understand Akivili's warning.

#yandere #yancore #yandere x reader #yanderecore #yandere nanook x reader #nanook #honkai star rail #hsr aeons #aeons #akivili #FINALLY ITS DONE!#excuse me your highness as i'll proceed with jingyuan next #if youre confused the one that blocked reader's powers is a stellaron because apparently nanook is theorized to make stellarons #and he uses the power of the stellaron to his advantage #no beta we are doomed like akivili #sincerelyy youres

671 notes · View notes

tuhtofu · 1 year

Text

warnings: nsfw, sub diluc, dom reader, gn reader, praise kink, slight teasing, light angst, pining, hand jobs, established relationship, very soft

wc: 2.4k

Summary: You pamper Diluc.

Getting Diluc to this point would seem impossible to anyone looking in from the outside. He’s always so grumpy, so serious, and despite being the biggest bachelor in Mond, he never seems to display an ounce of the same interest that is presented to him. In your hands though, he’s but a sweet, pliant lover, and a man deserving of no less than everything the world can offer.

Diluc is known for being hard working, and no matter the circumstance, he takes care of the city and the people he truly cherishes, despite the seemingly lack of enthusiasm that’s evident in the grunts and sighs that leave his mouth when taking part in a conversation. After all, he isn’t obligated to entertain anyone while knowing he comes off as a boring individual, is he? Nevertheless, behind this attitude is a tint of playfulness that when caught and retorted, always leaves him scoffing and turning his head away in embarrassment.

To break down Diluc’s walls would prove to be a most difficult task, but how can he resist the love that he’d yearned to feel once more for years, one that he’d forgotten about while neglecting his needs and drowning himself in work, when finally provided with it?

There’s an odd feeling that bubbles in his chest each time you take care of him, like when you indulge his sweet banter, or the evenings spent together, eating dinner with him in a comfortable silence, with occasional hums leaving your mouth at the delicious taste your tongue is graced with. Having said that, the late, exhausting nights he returns from his duties only to find you waiting for him, ready to take care of the body he abandons when the plaguing feeling that he’s unworthy and undeserving of it overtakes him, provides the strangest feeling of them all. A night such as this one. It’s a feeling that, despite seeming like an intrusion, is addictive.

On your end, there’s no one more worthy of worship than your partner. And even as he stands before you, bare and vulnerable, eyes cast downwards and hands awkwardly hovering over his abdomen, you can’t help the need that overcomes you. A need to reassure him, to cherish every inch of his being and show him the extent to which your sheer love and adoration for him goes.

No matter how many times you find yourself in this position, Diluc’s bashfulness in his exposure never ceases to steal a chuckle from your lips. You wonder out loud if it’s his inexperience that always gets him like this, or if the capable Darknight Hero can be reduced to a shy mess this easily. However, your teasing doesn’t earn you any comebacks when he’s in this state, instead only the scoffs he makes in an attempt to feign annoyance are present.

With a smile plastered on your face, you beckon Diluc to your lap, your hands guiding his own to rest on your shoulders as he hesitantly moves to straddle you. He’s tense, you note, and it only serves to prove how hard he strains himself for the sake of others. You move your hand to cup his face, the other smoothing over the wrinkles between his furrowed eyebrows, and you feel him leaning into your touch, letting out an exhale he didn’t know he was holding in.

You can’t resist pulling him into a tight hug, running a hand along his back and gently grazing it with your fingernails as both of your bodies begin to relax and your nose fills with his mesmerising scent. The silence breaks when you nuzzle into his neck to whisper words of reverence into it, causing Diluc to shut his eyes and hold you impossibly closer to the warmth of his body.

He’s aware of his strength and the resources he puts into what he does, including his own body that he pilots like a machine, but he doesn’t understand why his body shudders when it’s acknowledged, and why there’s a hot feeling settling in his gut when you pull away from the hug to look at him with adoration and a hint of worry in your eyes as you trace the scars littering his body, worshiping even the ugliest parts of him that are accompanied with memories he’d like to forget.

To you, it’s nothing but a reminder of what he puts himself through, the things he does without ever asking for anything in return, and to him, the kisses you leave along the scars on his collarbone, down to his arms and hands, feel like they’re overwriting every bit of pain he felt when he received them.

Diluc isn’t unfamiliar with being desired, after all, he’s a rich, popular figure around the nation. But to feel adored, cared for, and needed leaves him in a haze, especially when he can feel your body so close to his own. He’s always strived to be someone useful, and he’s so starved for the loving touch of another that he can’t stay composed when your kisses move to his lips, all the while your fingers move downwards to leave feather-like touches on the sides his waist. Once your fingertips graze his stomach, you smile into his mouth when you feel it draw in. So sensitive, your Diluc.

A few pecks soon turn into sloppy, desperate kisses, and his hand moves to grip one of yours in an attempt to stay composed. Even that proves to be challenging though, when your own need is so evident in how your tongue evades his mouth to deepen the kiss further, or perhaps it is a part of your grand plan to steal his breath away.

He’s trying, he really is, to not grind up into the soft skin of your tummy that is just barely grazing his dick. He curses at himself for how he’s already so painfully hard, but he wants to be good, so he tries to keep his hips still despite their involuntary twitches and instead focuses on the intoxicating feeling of your lips and tongue on his own. You, however, know Diluc inside out, and you know that once he attempts to muffle the desperate whines that spill out of him into your mouth, he’s holding back from asking you for something.

So you reluctantly pull back from his now plump lips, now stained with your saliva, and he gasps dramatically to fill his lungs with air before instantly trying to pull you back to latch onto what felt like his lifeline, your mouth. You allow him to bring you closer, and rub your thumb across his knuckles, a gentle gesture that shows him that it’s okay, that he didn’t do anything wrong, and that you’re not going anywhere. In turn, he loosens up and you lean in to rest your forehead on his, catching your breath.

You hate it when Diluc represses himself, as if his feelings are being tested. But you don’t mind telling him over and over again, that your sole intention is to make him feel good and that you want to repay the kindness he gives out so freely. You want him to express his desires to you without guilt absorbing him, but you know it’s not an easy feat, so you settle for returning the gentle look he’s giving you as you request him to show you what he wants.

He’s a bit reluctant, but slowly, he moves his hands to your wrists, contemplating a little before guiding them downwards to rest on his thighs as his eyes avert from yours in embarrassment. His cheeks are dusted with pink and his lips have curved into a frown, unsure of whether or not you got the message.

Simultaneously, he feels his stomach swirl in fear, wondering if he’s even living up to your expectations of how a man like him should be in bed, or if he’s being too bold. You, on the other hand, are delighting in the sheer cuteness that is radiating from his actions. He’s so teasable, and you attempt to hold back from doing just that, knowing just how serious he is about these moments of intimacy. Alas, you’re only human, and you can’t help but give in to your urges.

So you opt for moving your hands lower to settle on his inner thighs and give them a soft squeeze. That catches his attention, and he turns his head to face you once more, but nothing happens. Your touch lingers on his sensitive skin, and your eyes are boring into him with that saccharine look which suddenly makes him feel awkward. That’s when it dawns on him just how defenseless he is in this position, and it makes him want to crawl in on himself.

But in this bubble, within your safety, he feels secure, and his entire body is already aching for your touch, so Diluc decides to abandon his pride to lean into your ear and mumble pleas for you to touch him where it hurts. Though barely audible, it makes the pits of your stomach swirl. Such a pretty voice, and it’s even prettier when it’s all breathy and laced with desperation. Of course, when you voice your thoughts, all he can do is grunt and continue to pretend that it doesn’t make him shy. You know he likes it though, and way his dick jumps at the praise is incredibly apparent.

Though it’s something he used to be ashamed of, he can’t help but feel the warmth spreading across his entire body when put in an embarrassing position, especially if it’s in front of you. It feels so good, and he can scarcely admit to himself that he actually craves more of your teasing. It’s like a forbidden pleasure he can only experience once he shreds himself of the aloof, powerful image he forces himself to keep up.

At last, you comply, letting your soft hand wrap around him, and his whole body shudders. He lets out a deep, shaky breath he had been holding in from your teasing, but it only made the relief that much more pleasurable. Your other hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as you run your thumb over his slit, already drooling with pre, to gather and spread it across the head before starting to thumb at the frenulum. It rips out a small groan from your lover, and he looks at you with puppy eyes as if to remind you he’s sensitive there, but what are you supposed to do when the glimmer in his eyes simultaneously begs you for more?

You kiss his scarred hand in response before gathering saliva into your mouth and spitting it out on his dick. Diluc scrunches his face at the vile sight, but you think it’s justified. It’s to make your job easier, after all. In spite of that, his thoughts are instantly thrown out the window the moment your grip on him strengthens and you finally start to stroke him fully. You set a rough pace from the get go, and it makes Diluc’s body cave in on itself as he leans down to capture your lips, attempting to mumble thank you’s in between his moans and desperate kisses.

You let go of his hand and he whines into your mouth, causing you to giggle. He’s a clingy little thing when he isn’t thinking straight, and you treasure every second of it. Diluc’s protests are quickly silenced when your hand moves to cradle his balls, tugging and fondling them to your heart’s content. Your lips appear to have a mind of their own as they travel down to his collarbone to pepper wet kisses on it, your warm breath lingering on his skin.

He’s just so beautiful, so strong and kind hearted, and there’s nothing more you want in this moment than for him to let go and succumb to the base desire he’s always seen as a bothersome chore. As for him, your gentle words combined with your touch, the two things Diluc has been so starved of, only serve to bring him closer to release. He lets out a pitiful whimper while arching closer into you, hands gripping your shoulders as he starts fucking into your hand to match your pace.

All he can do is muffle his cries into your neck and hope that you’ll be merciful enough to let him off the hook. But Diluc wants to make you proud, so he musters up the courage to speak, to beg once more for you to give him the permission to cum, and for you to take the reigns for everything, including his orgasm, so that he can only finish when you order him to.

You watch his thrusts turn erratic and uneven until he’s almost unable to handle it, and for a moment, Diluc thinks you’re going to deny him like you’ve done before. The thought alone makes his stomach turn, and it elicits the fear in him that he didn’t work hard enough to earn your approval. However, he’s at a point where all he can do is bite into your shoulder and squeeze his eyes shut, trying to hold back, because he can barely think about anything else other than the filthy slick sound of your fist pumping him and the bliss you’re already granting so graciously.

In reality, he couldn’t be further away from the truth. You’re so proud of him, but despite how pleasurable it is to see him almost tip over the edge, you don’t want to cause frustration when your motive is to help him unwind. So while he desperately thrusts into the warmth of your hand and you pick up your speed, you beckon him to open his eyes and finally whisper the words he so badly needed to hear, the permission that coaxes him into a relieving orgasm accompanied by a long, drawn out moan as you slowly stroke him through it.

You wish you could capture Diluc’s face when he lets go like this. How his body trembles from the intensity of the pleasure he rarely indulges in, the way his pale cheeks turn into a crimson red that rivals the color of his hair, and how well the look of pleasure suits him. His body slumps over yours as he tries to regulate his breathing, and you use your clean hand to scratch at his scalp, mumbling praise into his ear as he relaxes into your embrace.

You hold every moment of this comfortable silence dear, wishing that time would stop so you could cherish it forever. Contentment washes over your body as you think about how you would give the world for this man, and that he would do the exact same for you.

#sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub diluc #dom reader #dom!reader #sub!diluc #diluc x reader #gn reader #genshin smut

1K notes · View notes

chittaemin · 11 months

Text

okay im going through my felix feels rn and i simply can’t get baby boy felix outta my mind

warning: nsfw under the cut. minors dni

imagine tucking him between your legs, his back against your chest, as you run your hands down every inch of his skin, placing small fluttering kisses along the length of his neck.

he would make such pretty noises, soft gasps and pathetic whimpers that only send the heat simmering hotter in your stomach. just imagine the way his breath would hitch as you circled closer and closer to the sensitive skin of his nipples, touch so feather-light he arches against you just to chase more of the feeling. his voice would ring so prettily in the otherwise silent room as you finally give him what he wants, thumbing the buds with the utmost reverence because he is your precious boy and deserves to have every inch of him worshipped and cherished.

he would get so worked up from just those little touches, his cute little cock rigid and flushed in the open air. your fingers trace lightly down his stomach, taking pride in the subtle flex of his abdomen and the way his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, to circle loosely around the base of his length.

oh, the way felix would look at you, chest heaving with the effort it takes to breathe and eyes sparkling with adoration as if you’d hung all the stars in the sky. he’d look so helpless and yet so pliant and trusting, more than happy to give over control to you because he knows you’ll take care of him.

when you finally do give him what he wants, when you decide to finally wrap your hand snuggly around his dick and start stroking, he’ll let out the loudest moan yet. throaty and guttural, his voice might even crack as he writhes in your arms, desperate for release.

it’s so unbelievably hard to stop yourself from teasing felix. he likes it fast and messy, so that’s what you give him. up and down you stroke him, collecting the pearlescent beads of moisture to aid the glide, alternating your pace between hard and fast and slow and steady, wrist twisting up at the head just to hear him gasp wetly into the skin of your neck. you want to give him the world—he deserves nothing less after all—but it’s just so fun seeing his hips buck up subconsciously, hearing the gravelly tone in his labored breathing as he struggles to keep the frustration at bay, knowing you’ll reward him for being a good boy. for being your good boy.

you’ll know he’s ready to cum by the way his moans devolve into whines, sobs wracking his small frame as his body launches itself closer to climax. he’d be so sweet in those precious moments leading up to his release, needy whimpers of your name interspersed with i love you and please please please let me cum.

and you’d let him, of course you would, especially after hearing such beautiful sounds in the throes of his pleasure. he’s your darling baby boy and you’d give him anything he asked for. and so you grant his desperate pleas, hand doubling the speed from before. the change is so sudden felix finds himself flailing in your embrace, arms clawing at your wrist, your thighs, anything to anchor himself to you. panting, he turns his head to face you, pushing forward to kiss you as you lead him closer to orgasm. it’s sloppy and uncoordinated, full of tongue and teeth, but it’s perfect because it’s him and you have to bite back a smile.

soon his pleasure crests into an electrifying, toe-curling climax and he can do little else but groan, pretty pink lips falling open in an adorable 'o’ shape as his body goes taut and rigid. you stroke him through it, ensuring he rides out every last wave until he’s shuddering from overstimulation. as he comes down from his high, felix would gradually become more relaxed, body sagging bonelessly into your arms. he would turn lazily toward you, head lolling against your shoulder, as he tilts his head up for another kiss, this one sweeter and more controlled than the last.

when you pull back, he’d take a second to savor the taste of your kiss before opening his eyes, his beautiful, sparkling eyes, to look at you again with such adoration and love that your heart soars. i love you’s are exchanged, soft and sweet, and you relish in the warmth of your most precious boy.

#this…..is so unbelievably soft #but i mean that pretty much sums up my love for lixie so 🥺#felix smut #felix #stray kids #stray kids smut #felix imagines #felix x reader #stray kids felix

189 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 5 months

Text

Day 17: Wearing nothing but a Santa hat

Fandom: Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II

Character: Alejandro Vargas

Naughty or Nice

Warnings: soft love making, p in v.

A/n: Plus size! Reader cause he's my favorite and I am plus size myself!

Watching, Alejandro could not help but look at you with love. His eyes ranking over your form as you hummed to some random Christmas song. The shirt you wore rising showing off your belly as you placed some ornaments on the tree.

You were so beautiful, he could not understand, fathom how he was married to someone like you, hoe he got so lucky. Shaking his head, he made his way toward's you as he wrapped his arms around your waist as his fingers slipped under your shirt as they grazed your belly. "You are so beautiful." He whispered as his lips grazed your neck.

Laughing, you pulled out of his arm as you gave him a teasing grin. "Can I show you something, to make this more festive?"

Seeing the glint in your spine, Alejandro gave you a grin wetting his lips. "How can I say no to you Mi Amore?"

Grinning, you grasped his hand then tugged him towards the bed room. Giving your husband a long kiss you pulled back then gave him a wink as you slipped away. Stepping into the bathroom you quickly stripped your clothing off then placed a Santa hat on your head, taking a deep breath you placed your hand on your hip. "What do you think?"

Alejandro couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as Brooke slipped away, leaving him momentarily alone. He eagerly anticipated the surprise she had in store for him, his heart racing with anticipation.

When you returned, wearing nothing but a Santa hat, Alejandro's eyes widened, taking in your beautiful, vulnerable form, he couldn't help but be captivated.

A soft groan escaped his lips as he looked at you, a mixture of desire and admiration evident in his eyes. "Mi amor, you are absolutely stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine awe. "Your body is a work of art, and though next time I will have to wrap you up in a little bow."

He reached out, gently tracing his fingers along your stretch marks, his touch tender and loving. "You are perfect. Every inch of you. Your belly, your curves, they make you unbeliviably beautiful. Sexy." His voice husky.

Alejandro leaned in, capturing youd lips in a passionate kiss, his hands caressing your body with reverence. In that moment, he wanted you to feel desired, cherished, and loved, to understand that you were perfect.

Alejandro, feeling the intensity of your desire, breaking the kiss he looked deeply into your eyes. His voice was filled with tenderness and passion as he responded. "So beautiful."

He gently guided you towards the bed, youd bodies pressed close together. Alejandro's hands roamed over your curves, his touch gentle yet filled with a burning desire. With each caress, he whispered words of adoration, reaffirming youd beauty and worth.

Your bodies entwined, Alejandro's lips found their way to your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands continued to explore your body, worshipping every inch of you.

Slowly, he trailed kisses down your chest, pausing to pay homage to your breasts, lavishing attention on each one. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipples, teasing and pleasuring you. As he moved lower, he planted soft kisses along her stomach, cherishing the stretch marks and softness that made you unique.

With a gentle touch, Alejandro parted your legs, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your inner thighs. He lowered himself between your legs, his tongue finding its way to your most intimate place, eager to show you the pleasure she deserved.

His tongue danced skillfully, exploring every sensitive spot, as his hands caressed your thighs, offering both physical and emotional support. He was devoted to bringing you pleasure.

Alejandro then rose, shifting his body as your gazes locked. With a deep breath, he entered you slowly, allowing your body to adjust and savor the sensation. Your bodies moved together in a rhythmic dance of love and desire, their connection deepening with every thrust.

In the midst of their passionate union, Alejandro whispered words of affirmation and love, reminding you that she was perfect, how good you felt.

Together, you found release. A deep groan escaped his lips feeling your walls clench around his shaft as he emptied himself with in you.

The Santa hat fully off your head as he gave you a grin. "Now that was a wonderful treat."

#drabbles #drabble #tis the season #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #alejandro vargas x female reader #Alejandro Vargas x y/n #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n

100 notes · View notes

flordeamatista · 1 year

Note

qué voy a hacer con mi amor

comfort with ari🥺

Hold Me

pairing: boyfriend!Ari Levinson x reader

concept: Hold me like you can’t let go.

word count: 900

warnings: Soft Ari, poetic fluff, poetic kisses, You just want to snuggle with him during the cold days

a/n: @treatbuckywkisses I'm always in awe with all of your moodboards and thank you for making this one of my husband. I absolutely adore you.

This is for my entry for @jadedvibes Falling in Love Writing Challenge. Adore you!

Beta by the lovely @writing-for-marvel

Masterlist

Hold me like you can’t let go.

There are flutters of color in the air, ranging from the brightest crimson to the deepest earth tone. Savoring this moment in slow motion, he watches the petals fall from the branches. He can savor this for as long as he wants as though nature had done it for him.

The end of summer is shrouds in golden hues and golden dreams.

Autumn is the year's crowning achievement, its fruit, and the lilting melody of love. She is a hug for chillier days and a love letter for winter, warming hearts as the seasons turn.

Now, you rule as queen.

You've got the season's most gorgeous ensemble on, with a plaid skirt, white sweater, white tights, and knee high boots.

A single leaf falls from the tree as a tribute to his queen. A way to every corner of the globe for the deserving. Ari thought you were the most gorgeous woman on the planet.

Since you always present yourself with such poise, it is easy to tell that you are a good person at heart. To put it plainly, you are flawless. You are always one to appreciate the little things in life, and now you can do so while basking in the fall weather and hearing the world around you speak to you through its changing colors and sounds.

The wind carries your laughter and grin as you close your eyes in the crisp outdoor air. The breezes of autumn bring to light a secret that should be common knowledge.

However, Ari is in on the secret.

You.

His pulse quickens as he realizes the truth: when you find art, you revere its lines.

After hearing your hum and watching you begin to sway in the midst of the park with the leaves, Ari's face lights up with joy. He sprints over and snatches you up in his strong arms. Ari can't help but feel an overwhelming urge to hug you and never let go.

You giggle as you call his name.

He presses his lips against yours and successfully silences you, even for a moment. "You're so beautiful. Why can't I hold what's mine?"

Everything feels right to him as a crisp breeze blows in and leaves flutter down all about you.

He is counting on you to protect his heart, to love and cherish him as much as he loves and cherishes you in return. Everything in the world, all he wants to do is walk with you and hold your hand.

Kiss me like you don’t need air.

Ari and you are snuggling up by the fire, blankets drapes over your bodies, and you're munching on cookies you made together. Your body melting into Ari's soulmate stones, linked by time. Scents of their sweetness and coziness permeate the space.

The first time Ari kissed you, his heart did not burst. In place of fire, there was a sense of calm.

To be in love, two people should feel safe, secure, and connected to universal peace, able to let go of their fears.

You have soft, inviting lips, and he can't wait to taste them and brand his lips against them.

You take a nibble and mutter, "Want a bite," as you relish the cookie's sweet flavor. "What?" you blink in confusion. "What's the matter?” Ari insists, grin firmly on his face, "Nothing. You've got cookie crumbs on your face."

Raising your hand, you delicately brushes your mouth. You laugh hysterically and say, "I probably look like a disaster." He brushes the crumbs from your face with the palm of his hand. "Don't worry," he shakes his head.

“Let me clean my mess." A soft whisper escapes his lips. His lips are muffled by your last words as he presses his over yours.

He kisses you, and your hands cradle his jaw as he caresses your mouth and his hands slip down to your butt. He breathes in the scent of your kiss, and he feels your fingers cradling his jaw.

The man is teasing you, and you know it. His soft beard hair tickles your bare lips, causing you to giggle with anticipation.

A kiss might seem ordinary enough on the surface. A season is born when two hearts fall in love with each other.

Ari bites you on the bottom lip. You let out a startling sound that sends chills down his spine. Ari wants to give you the same feeling of warmth that he experiences when he touches you. You are everything he breathes and everything he feels.

His kisses and touches will be the warmth you experience in every grin, every laugh, and every embrace, no matter how chilly it gets or how much dew there is on the ground or how many dead leaves you step on.

Like fire, his love is boundless, and you make it new and without limits. It does not matter how many years pass, your charm remains a magnet for him every season of the year.

Love me as you’d die without me.

429 notes · View notes

sev-on-kamino · 8 months

Note

Sev! Congratulations! You are killing it 💙

For the prompt, can I request Mayday, green, early morning, and either SFW or NSFW (dealer's choice)? Thank you for doing this, and for being such an amazing, fun, creative, and inspiring part of this community! You deserve all the best things!

Ahhhh, DJ!!! Thank you for being absolutely fucking wonderful on all levels🥹. I am honored and terrified you trusted me with your beloved Mayday, and I hope you enjoy this humble offering of 7 sentences from my heart 💙💙

warnings: unprotected piv sex (protect yourself irl pls), creampies, Minors DNI, nsfw or any other place you may happen to be when the notification for this comes through 😌

This is your favorite time of day when Mayday is home, as there’s enough light to see him, but not wake him, and you can imagine for a few glorious minutes that every day will be like this, that your lives are your own with no war, no pit in your stomach when your comm rings, nothing to take him from you except for time, and you could live with that.

It’s Mayday’s favorite time of day too, and he keeps his eyes closed and his breathing even to allow you to look as long as you like, knowing that, after a few moments, your hands will go wandering to trace his lips with your fingertips, to brush across his cheekbones, and down his nose, but you can never go too long before you slide closer, tossing one leg over him to settle on top of him, letting your covered sex rest over his cock, creating the perfect wake up call, as you look down at him like a queen surveying her kingdom.

His hands, calloused and warm, slide up your thighs to your hips, encouraging you to grind slowly against him, eliciting sighs and soft noises of anticipation, which he always builds up like an architect, whose favorite creation is your pleasure, and it requires monuments in its honor daily, and Mayday is nothing if not diligent in laying the foundation in the form his touch along your hips, over your stomach, to your breasts, that he cups with reverent hands, thumbs brushing over stiff peaks, causing your back to arch delicately.

Then comes the framework, as he removes the shirt of his you fell asleep in, and runs his hands over the newly exposed skin, always so soft beneath his hands, against his lips, leaving him craving more even when he has days more to indulge in you, but that’s what he loves about you, and he cherishes the ache in his chest in your absence, as it reminds him what awaits him, but it’s no time for such thoughts when he has work to do to satisfy you.

He lifts your hips to give you room to guide his cock to your entrance, laughing softly when you don’t even bother to remove your panties, but rather just tug them to the side before you sink down onto his length, your breath hitching at the stretch of him, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, as he fills you completely once your ass has met his hips again.

It’s time for his favorite part, when the two of you move together, building up to that first blissful release before the dew has even settled on the tiny little plants accumulated on your balcony, before the birds have whistled their first notes, for Mayday likes the song he pulls from your body to be the first one he hears in the morning, and as your hips roll, and his fingers roam, he sits up, eager to press kisses to your heated skin, as his arms wrap around your body and pull you close, so you can feel his heartbeat against your skin.

You don’t hold back, seeing no need to be quiet about your enjoyment of your lover, and you let your moans dance into his ears, causing him to tighten his grip on you, encouraging you to move against him harder, even as he guides one of hands between your bodies to rub practiced circles over the little bundle of nerves that makes your walls flutter around him as he growls your name softly before ribbons of his cum coat your walls, while the two of you cling to one another and slowly descend from your high, and Mayday declares against your skin that it’s another perfect morning.

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @wolffegirlsunite @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @moon-wrecked @moonlightwarriorqueen

#follower celebration (sev’s version)#seven writes #tbb mayday #commander mayday #tbb mayday x reader #commander mayday x reader #mayday x reader #reader insert #x reader #tbb fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clone thirsting #nsft

66 notes · View notes

ss-skyearn · 1 year

Text

Dormant || Prologue

[miniseries masterlist]

❝ It's wrong to want it still, when what you had with him wasn't even given a name. ❞

「PAIRINGS AND CHARACTERS」

— Han Jisung x afab!reader, Chris x afab!reader

— Hyunjin ; peak Cinderella slash Drama Queen embodiment.

— Minho ; raging bisexual, wanted fuckboy, self proclaimed sex enthusiast.

—Changbin ; the local kinky gay best friend, protective to a fault.

—mentioned Stray Kids members

「ABOUT」

—Angst, Smut, Fluff, suggestive/adult themes throughout, Minors strictly DNI.

—Profanity (reader has a dirty mouth), mutual pining, desperation, obsession, heavy smoking as a cope up mechanism, brief description of panic attacks/anxiety, confusing feelings, themes of demisexualism, explicit sexual content.

—*each chapter will contain seperate warnings.

—inspired by the absolute blessing of a song, Volcano; references to the lyrics can be found throughout. It's my first written series, I hope you look forward to it. Excited to share.♡

「SERIES CHAPTERS」

l. BURN ALL OVER

ll. REBELLIOUS : release date tba

lll. title tba

「PROLOGUE」

Dormant.

That's what he's been, his heart has been since that night. That night when he had you for himself, that one fateful night.

He knew it as well as you that that was all it was.

One night.

But he'd be a fool to say he didn't wish for more, that his heart didn't ache for you the next morning when he found your side of the bed warm with you nowhere in sight, that his entire being doesn't yearn for you every day since.

It had been a stolen affair, with the city blanketed by the dead of the night, clouds overcast, leaden sky camouflaging all that is morally wrong; when there was no one looking, no one scrutinising, when your tangled limbs were masked by the heavy duvet, he let himself go, finally put his guilt aside and let him have what his body had been longing, craving.

Too bad no one told him about the side effects cravings present. They become a vice, get you addicted. They give you withdrawals, make you the shell of the person you once were.

He would know, these symptoms haunt him on the daily, not failing to torment him every second he spends thinking of you, never coming short to burden him with his irreverence.

He did revere you, still does, always has. But that dawn, you let him revere you, worship you like he's always wanted.

But those same memories now serve to be nothing more than ephialtes, bring nothing besides anguish.

Yet if he could rewind time, the only thing he'd change would be to never let you leave, stop you before you left him alone in the chill of his now lonely room, stop you from stopping him love you. And love you he would, cherish you like you deserve, treat you like he never would be allowed to.

He's already crossed that line when he decided to let go of his inhibitions, might as well go all the way now.

If he's sinned once, does it really matter if he does it again? Is there some almighty power up there that's keeping records? Will he be punished when his time comes?

It's fruitless, he supposes, to think of the consequences, for if given the chance, he'd do it a million times over. Time and time again. In a heartbeat.

For him, you had been a sin.

From the very start, to the only day he had you in his arms, all the way to now that he no longer does.

But if the sin tasted so sweet, if it meant he could have you for himself, the gates of hell don't scare him. He'd walk straight through them, if it means there's your hand in his, his heart with you, your soul with him.

[Send an ask if you wish to be added to the taglist. ♡]

79 notes · View notes

ghostsy · 2 years

Text

Honey

WARNINGS: yandere, implied abuse, possessiveness, mentions of death, nsfw, non-consensual implications, implied kidnapping, manga spoilers (?)

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! DABI X READER

In his defense, he didn’t know she would be there.

His morbid curiosity had gotten the better of him one day, and he found himself wandering down to that forgotten grave to dwell in memories that belonged to a boy he once knew. It wasn’t nostalgia. No.

To be honest, he was feeling bitter. Maybe he’d piss on it, one more fuck you to the man who’d built him--only to throw him away like an old toy when he’d found one newer and shinier--it was his birthday, after all. He thought he deserved some sort of present, at the very least.

What he wasn’t expecting was her. In her pretty little sundress, with her pretty little flowers, crying pretty little tears. His stomach twisted in an emotion he thought he had long buried. He didn’t like it.

Why was she crying? Why was she shedding tears for a boy she knew almost a decade ago? It was pathetic. It made him angry. What gave her the right to be here?

The flowers she wove as decoration were too white, too pure. It almost burned his eyes. He watched as she lit the incense, hands clasping together in prayer. A sick spark of amusement lit in his chest.

It was like a shrine. He wondered, if he made himself known to her now, would she drop to her knees in reverence? And would she part those pouty lips to serve her God, to please him?

He was getting carried away. She wasn’t his to fantasize about, not anymore. For the first time in years, he felt the seed of nostalgia plant itself in his chest. The boy had had his sweet, cotton candy memories, was able to cherish the feeling of her lips on his, and the satisfaction of knowing that he was the only one to know her in that way.

The boy had been granted the privilege to know what it was like to love her, to be loved by her. It didn’t matter that they were children, too naive to understand the horror of the world they’d been forced into.

Maybe it was better because of it. Innocence in the form of a drop of golden honey fallen from the heavens, a taste he’d never have the pleasure of feeling on his tongue again.

Though, maybe he’d be able to taste a different kind of honey. She’d come to him so sweetly, after all. He wondered if she visited his empty grave every year. Of course she did. She was always good like that, kind and innocent, and so soft.

The seed of nostalgia grew, as everything inside him always did, into something darker. If he couldn’t get cotton candy memories, and an innocent love that tasted like honey, he’d settle for something a little more his speed.

Everything he ever touched burned to ash, but the fire was a kaleidoscope of color that he was sure would make it worth burning to ash with her. Didn’t he deserve at least this?

The world was big, and cold, and angry. The world was filled with bears who stole children’s honey, and drank it with razor sharp fangs peeking from underneath too sharp smiles. Fangs that bit, crushing cotton candy memories between bloody teeth, and spit out the sugar.

But she still looked so good, so sweet. He briefly wondered if the world had spared her from breaking underneath its deadly jaws. But the shudders that wracked her body as she knelt in the dirt of the grave of a boy she loved snuffed the thought from his mind. No. He realized that he had dragged her head first into the bloody mouth of despair. The little boy who’s empty grave was watered with her tears had been the one to ruin her.

For once, he wasn’t to blame. After all, he had left her alone. He had moved on. The boy was dead, and his ghost had but one goal. He was on a warpath of vengeance, heart torn from between translucent ribs. And even so, a ghost with no heart was still a ghost. This walking corpse had no place in her life now. And yet. It made him angry. The tainted sprout in his chest bloomed with resentment.

The boy got his cotton candy memories. The boy got his taste of golden honey, was able to drown deliriously in it, at least for a time. And then he had died, dragging down the girl he loved, and buried her heart in his empty coffin.

And what had he gotten? What had he inherited, but an existence so cold, it burned more than the blue of his fire ever could? He knew he was damned. That the fires of hell could barely singe him when it came to the flames he was able to unleash. A creature dark, and ugly, and empty. Clouds of insanity overcast any hope of redemption he would find. He knew this. And yet.

She would forgive him. She had loved the boy; she could learn to love him too. And if not, the ability to feel the silk of her skin beneath his scarred fingertips was a welcome consolation prize.

He didn’t need redemption. He didn’t want it. But he was sure that he’d find heaven in the place between her legs, was sure it would taste of a type of honey less sweet, more tart, but ambrosia all the same. How silly of him to think he was the god between them.

Step after careful step, he crept forward. He had come to piss on the grave of a boy he hated; maybe he’d just fuck her over it instead. It was his birthday, after all.

She was kind, and she was good, and she was sweet. She was the one sunbeam breaking through the haze of insanity, and he’d be damned if he lost the light again.

He was close enough to see the details of her face now. The flower of resentment had wilted, petals melting into an emotion he vaguely registered as joy. Not pure, no, but unhinged joy is joy all the same.

Really, it was her fault for caring in the first place. It was the boy’s fault that she’d fallen victim to the cruel fangs of the world. He was simply reaping the benefit--if the boy had been the one to push her down despair’s jaws, he’d gladly be the one to swallow her.

Her brows knitted together as the sound of footsteps neared. Her chin lifted, hair swishing in the wind--he couldn’t wait to run his fingers through it, to pull, to tear--and stunned recognition washed over her face, brows furrowing and unfurrowing, not knowing whether to smile or to scream. Beautiful.

She whispered a name—long forgotten, but despised all the same—and it sounded like the most ancient of love poems coming from her lips.

He hadn’t known a beast like him could find a place to belong, but when he looked in her eyes, frozen in contradictory, terrified, mystified hope, he saw home.

#yandere bnha #yandere dabi #yandere todoroki touya #yandere x reader #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere touya #yandere x you #yandere toya #don't mind me

288 notes · View notes

vilentia · 11 months

Text

In the Arms of the Watcher

Heimdall x reader

Summary: In the realm of Asgard, Heimdall returns home to love and warmth, weaving tales of wonder with his beloved.

Rating: General

Category: fluff

****

As the day drew to a close, the vibrant colors of Asgard's sunset painted the sky, casting a warm glow over the golden halls. You eagerly awaited the return of your beloved husband, Heimdall, who had been diligently watching over the realms. The anticipation of his arrival filled your heart with joy and excitement.

With each passing minute, your excitement grew until finally, the doors swung open, and there he stood, tall and regal in his Asgardian armor. A smile graced your face as you rushed into his open arms, feeling the strength and warmth that enveloped you.

"Heimdall, you're home!" you exclaimed, burying your face in his chest. "I missed you."

His deep voice resonated through your being as he replied, "And I missed you, my love. The realms are vast, but they pale in comparison to the comfort and love I find in your arms."

With a tender smile, Heimdall gently disentangled himself from your embrace, his armor glimmering in the soft candlelight that illuminated your chamber. He moved with a graceful fluidity, removing the various pieces of his armor and setting them aside, symbolizing the shedding of his duties and the transition to a well-deserved respite. As he slipped into more comfortable clothing, he couldn't help but steal glances at you, admiring your serene beauty. The love in his eyes deepened as he watched you, marveling at the way your presence brought him peace and joy.

You looked up into his bright, wise eyes and felt a wave of affection wash over you. "Tell me of your adventures, of the wonders you have witnessed today," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Heimdall, wearing his comfortable attire now, gently brushed a lock of hair from your face, his touch as tender as a whisper. A smile played on his lips as he settled beside you, his arm instinctively encircling your waist, drawing you closer to his strong, protective form. The warmth of his body melded with yours, creating an intimate cocoon of affection.

He began to recount the tales of his watchful gaze, his voice carrying a sense of awe and reverence. As he spoke, you could almost feel the magic of the Bifröst and the distant realms come alive.

Listening to him, you marveled at his unwavering dedication and strength, but above all, you cherished the love he poured into his words. Heimdall had a way of making even the simplest stories seem extraordinary, painting vivid pictures with his words and whisking you away on fantastical journeys.

As his stories tapered off, you found yourself leaning against him, your head resting on his broad chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat brought you comfort, grounding you in the present moment. Heimdall's strong arms enveloped you in a protective embrace, cradling you with tenderness.

"I'm grateful for every day I spend by your side," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"And I, for every moment I get to share with you," you replied, your voice filled with love.

In the quiet of the night, the two of you found solace in each other's presence. Wrapped in the safety of your love, you drifted off to sleep, feeling the rise and fall of Heimdall's chest, a soothing lullaby that carried you into dreams filled with adventure, love, and a future illuminated by the eternal bond you shared.

#heimdall #heimdall imagine #heimdall oneshot #heimdall one shot #heimdall drabble #heimdall fanfiction #heimdall fanfic #heimdall fic #heimdall fluff #heimdall x y/n #heimdall x you #heimdall x reader #heimdall x female reader #heimdall x wife!reader #husband!heimdall #husband!heimdall x reader #heimdall marvel #heimdall thor #heimdall avengers

19 notes · View notes

capricious-bastard13 · 1 year

Text

Obsession

AO3

Rating: Mature

Pair: Zoro/Sanji

Tags: Alternate Universe, Stalking, Obsession, Possessive Behavior, POV First Person, Possessive Sanji, Yandere Sanji, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot, Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read

---------------------

We became friends through Luffy. A love-hate relationship of sorts that sprouted into something magical.

I looked at you with a grimace and derision on the tip of my tongue. You would glare and growl, scowl and frown, fighting me back with every word that I spit and hack unto your face; such fire never once dying down in the face of our childish idiocy.

Now, I look at you and see the beauty that you hold. The brightness of your smile and the life in your eyes. The vibrancy of your entire being fills a room to near suffocation.

I wish to hold your hand and whisper love into your ears, I wish to touch your skin and caress it against mine. My lips to yours, my mind to yours, my heart, my everything is yours.

I don't have the courage to confess, I'm sorry, my love for you. We are family first and I respect that.

But late at night, I wonder how it would feel to have you laying beside me, calling me by my name, making love between the sheets like the sun would never rise. And that comforts me. Holds me with the arms of darkness and vivid imagination. I touch my body in a way that I know how you would touch me, with reverence yet anger, fucking instead of loving but at the end of it all, you lean down close to me and whisper I love you. Because I love you too.

I love you so much.

I watch you even as you close your eyes to sleep, I stay beside you to feel the warmth of your body, I listen to every word you say and carve it deep within my flesh, a tattoo forever in your name.

And yet.

You have the audacity to show up, standing there with a grin, cheeks aflame and ears hot, holding hands with somebody else.

How? How could you?

I thought it was just us. Me and you, against the world.

Yet you've let in some fucking whore touch you where I should be the only one allowed to do so.

You come up to me and introduce this inferior, insipid, obtuse bastard to stand by your side.

Oh, you who is so bright, so wonderful, heavenly, you don't deserve to be mingling with a quack.

And you know what I did? I smiled because the smile you wear warms my heart so, beaten into my heart, with each blink, it is you and your smile.

I stayed by the side, watching the two of you, a god blessing a maggot on rotting flesh.

I see its true colors and I decided to help you. You deserve only the best, and such cutting it would free you.

You're living together, I found out later that week, living together when I should be the only one allowed into your space, allowed to touch the ones that you hold dear.

But I remind myself, with your big heart, this is simply charity, pity for a homeless fruit fly.

But did you know?

If you let one in to your home, it will leave its dirty little traces around, leave its offspring and create more.

Like all fruit flies, you leave it be for a moment, keep a close eye on it, watch as it lands on its weak knees, distracted and occupied before you come and kill it.

A harsh slap to its body, and it falls, dripping and staining your nice floors with its viscera and uselessness. I made sure to scrub between the cracks of your wooden floorboards, down on my hands and knees, worshipping the home you cherish, made sure not a single mark was left as I left it rotting in my home instead.

You came home, your face marked so harrowingly desolate of happiness that I knew I had to do something. I knocked on your door and made you your favorites, I pressed myself close as you cried on my shoulder.

You cried, He didn't even say anything.

And I said, I'm so sorry. Because he made you cry, made you sad. How dare it hurt you, when it had no such right. But I held you and together we fell asleep on your couch, with your head pressed to my chest and my fingers through your hair.

Coming back home, I dealt with the rest of a decaying roach, a vulnerable little thing, still breathing wiggling around. There's many ways to get rid of a roach; the method that I chose was to suffocate it, have it be bereft of air as it wails, gasping for breath that it will never get. Just like that, the disgusting little roach died. Threw it into the trash where it belonged.

We continued to thrive, to laugh, to live. I looked at you and you looked back. Happy moments where it would be just the two of us, walking down the shore of a beach, a bottle of beer in your hand while I made sure you stayed on the path. We talked about plans of a future in the floor of your lovely home, shoulder to shoulder, and I knew that I was in your future just as much as you were in mine.

That shattered however. Because like last time, a flea has attached itself onto you. A disgusted, bloated flea that made my skin crawl unpleasantly.

To rid of fleas, you have to clean the home as thoroughly as you can. Don't let it stay for too long otherwise, like a fly, it will multiply.

Vacuum and gloves in hand, I proceeded to treat your home back to its original glory.

I washed your clothes, your bedsheets, your pillows. I changed your mattress and wiped down your windows. I dusted the corners, the shelves, and the cupboards.

Yet the flea wouldn't leave.

Eventually, fortunately, I found the flea's little family, its little home.

And how will you get rid of a flea, if you don't include its relatives?

You came to us, your friends, to me, your Sanji. I opened my arms and welcomed you back, held you close as you murmured how it never replied back to you. I tucked you, my preciousness, into my safety and you held me back. Tightly with your strong, calloused hands that tried its best not to tremble and told you that there are others, things out there who are just that mean, that bad, for you.

You nodded and agreed. Then you smiled at me, with your adorable dimples and straight white teeth, cheeks bunched up into the widest of smiles. I knew I could trust you.

Yes, because only I can be trusted. Only I can give to you your utmost happiness. Only I know how to make your favorite meals, serve you your favorite alcohol, wash your clothes with the correct detergent, know where your belongings are placed.

It is only me. Only I know you to your deepest core. Only I know how to laugh and cry and smile and say your name.

Only I know.

#My Writing #One Piece #ZoSan #Zoro/Sanji #One Shot

9 notes · View notes

peachyxin · 9 months

Text

to spend my tomorrows with you

ao3 link • 886 words

pairing: Vashwood

tags: angst, hurt no comfort, grief/mourning, coping, dead Nicholas D. Wolfwood, drabble

cw: major character death, Trigun manga spoilers

summary

Vash copes with Wolfwood's death, while the latter reaches for faith in the void of the underworld. A pseudo-katabasis and the dream of a falling star.

---

01. six feet under

Vash sits stone-still on the couch, in a daze. He toys with the weight of the Punisher and traces its contours with the pads of his fingers. The cool metal counterbalances the phantom memory of warm hands held and cherished deep beneath his skin. It still doesn’t hit him that Wolfwood is gone. There’s no way he can be. He imagines how Wolfwood would hold the gun; he remembers the cheeky grin that would accompany the confirmatory glance that they shared before charging head-first into battle. He imagines that the warmth that lingers on its handle is real and not just a desperate manifestation of his denial.

No tears fall as he buries him. Shovels full of dirt hit the casket with dull thuds. Repeat, and repeat. Soon, the ground is level, and he is truly gone. No tears, but his whole world falls. In the depths of the night, left alone with his own suffocating thoughts, Vash sobs. He sobs, the force of his anguish sending tremors through his entire being as he clutches Wolfwood’s smoke-infused blazer to his chest so hard his knuckles turn white. I love you . Vash realizes this, belatedly, in the surreal trance of his grief, and the thought shears his heart open and raw, allowing the fears stowed carefully inside to rear their ugly heads, entangled in the depths of his psyche. The ghost of cigarettes may as well be of incense, prayer, and holy reverence. He’s convinced burying the only person so dear to him — the only one who saw him for more than his cheery facade, the only one who could ever pull him out of his head whenever he floated too far — damns him to a life of perdition.

He brings the cigarette to his lips, taking a slow drag. He coughs, sputters, then collects himself and tries again. One more. The poison seeping into his lungs is his punishment and repentance, the temporary antidote for his guilt and self-loathing. He imagines how Wolfwood’s cigarettes dangled effortlessly between his lips. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine that Wolfwood exists instead of him. That he survives, instead of him. Again, again, and again, he invites the smoke into his lungs, willing it to cloud the despair within, convincing himself that the wound is not severe. He wonders if Wolfwood would laugh at him, at how pathetic he is now, destroying his body to quench his searing, parching, and utterly destroying thirst for a memory long past, that can never be relived, not in this lifetime or the next. (He imagines Wolfwood laughing. The lengths he would go just to hear him laugh again.)

---

02. fallen angel’s ode to the sun

A sinner doesn’t deserve heaven. I turn the other way, not bothering to find out if cruel destiny deems me fit to enter; I am but a pawn in its eternal game. I fight against the tide of apparitions clambering to be first at the pearly gates. The blood staining my skin cannot be so easily cleansed. I descend the steps into the dark, cold labyrinth that marks the beginning of the underworld.

I was in love with the sun, once. He burned — breaking down and recreating endlessly, selflessly radiating warmth through the destruction of his own being. In my hubris, I convinced myself that I could best Icarus. I thought I was doing quite well.

The sun was my salvation. In his light, I believed that I had escaped the sinner’s path, that I could be reformed, born anew, and be cleansed of my wretched past. Well, that’s why I ended up here, anyway, but I wanted to believe. I still do. I have to.

But, back then, just as my fingertips were about to brush something holy, I was hurled into the unforgiving abyss of the cold sea. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. I hadn't intended to fly far in the first place. All I wanted was to have more, to be closer, to spend all my tomorrows steeped in the sacred rays of his ever-burning light.

I would burn for him a million times, over ten thousand different lifetimes, just to be his priest, his prophet, and his anchor in each one. He was so bright that I could hardly see him, and at times my unenlightened mind even found him foolish, but all that did was make me want to chase even harder, addicted to the thrill of flames licking at my fingertips, just out of reach.

As I descend, an invisible force holds me back. The selfish will of a star. Even in death, I cannot escape his self-imposed martyrdom, the pure deeds that only underline the extent of my defilement.

“Wolfwood?” an echoing and distant voice says. It’s almost a whisper, barely audible, trembling and unsteady. I wouldn’t have caught it if it weren’t for the aching familiarity in its timbre, melancholy disguised by jovial grace. I turn around. I have to believe, but I cannot.

My star burns as brightly as ever, but the farther I run, the more obscure his trembling mirage becomes.

⋆

Vash awakes with a start. The faint traces of the fading dream elude his reaching fingers. The star falls, cradled by a single tear, its outline reflecting the flickering oil lamp’s last exhalation, returning to the void of infinite nothing.

#trigun fanfiction #vashwood #vashwood fanfiction #vashwood fic #trigun maximum #trigun maximum fanart #couch scene #writing #hurt no comfort #vashwood angst #trigun spoilers #finding out wolfwood dies destroyed me I cried every morning over this for a week #thanks twitter for the lovely spoilers I haven't even finished trimax yet but I know probably like 45% of the plot

6 notes · View notes

qualityherb · 7 months

Text

The Golden Spice: Exploring the Wonders of Turmeric

Introduction: Turmeric, also known as “the golden spice,” has been cherished for centuries due to its vibrant color, distinct flavor, and a multitude of health benefits. This ancient spice has been a staple ingredient in culinary traditions and medicinal practices across various cultures. In recent years, turmeric has gained significant attention in the wellness industry for its potential to promote overall well-being. Join us on a journey as we uncover the fascinating qualities and explore the incredible world of turmeric.

Turmeric’s Rich History: Delving into the history of Curcumin reveals a story that spans thousands of years. Originating in South Asia, this spice has been an integral part of Ayurvedic medicine, Indian cuisine, and traditional rituals. Curcumin has also played a role in religious ceremonies, symbolizing purity, prosperity, and spiritual enlightenment.

The Powerhouse of Curcumin: Curcumin, the primary active compound found in Curcumin, is responsible for many of its health benefits. Renowned for its potent anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties, curcumin has been studied for its potential in preventing chronic diseases and promoting longevity. We’ll explore how curcumin works within the body and its potential therapeutic applications.

Turmeric in Traditional Medicine: Ayurveda, the traditional Indian system of medicine, has long recognized the healing potential of Curcumin. From treating digestive issues to promoting skin health, turmeric has been used as a natural remedy for a wide range of ailments. We’ll delve into the traditional uses of Curcumin and discover how it is incorporated into holistic healing practices.

Culinary Delights with Curcumin: Turmeric’s warm, earthy flavor has made it a beloved ingredient in kitchens around the world. Whether used in curries, stews, rice dishes, or even beverages, turmeric adds a distinctive taste and a vibrant hue to culinary creations. We’ll share some delightful recipes and tips on incorporating this versatile spice into your cooking repertoire.

Turmeric and Modern Science: The recent surge in scientific research has shed light on Curcumin’s potential benefits beyond traditional beliefs. Studies have explored its effects on brain health, cardiovascular wellness, joint function, and cancer prevention. We’ll dive into the scientific evidence and explore how turmeric shapes modern medicine’s landscape.

Harnessing the Power of Curcumin: As the popularity of turmeric continues to grow, a myriad of Curcumin supplements, beauty products, and health elixirs have flooded the market. We’ll guide you through the process of selecting high-quality Curcumin products and provide tips on incorporating Curcumin into your daily routine for maximum benefit.

Qherb Main specifications of our Curcumins products:

Turmeric root extract 90%~95% Curcuminoids(Curcumin, Demethoxycurcumin, Bisdemethoxycurcumin)

Curcumin 90% 95%

Turmeric powder E1% 1cm425nm

Conclusion: Turmeric, with its vibrant color, rich history, and an impressive array of health benefits, truly deserves its status as a revered spice. From its ancient roots in traditional medicine to its modern-day applications, Curcumin has captivated the attention of researchers, chefs, and health enthusiasts alike. By embracing the wonders of turmeric, we can embark on a journey towards improved well-being, embracing both the ancient wisdom and the cutting-edge research that surrounds this golden spice. So, why not add a dash of turmeric to your life and unlock the potential of this remarkable spice?

turmeric

#turmeric

0 notes

suraj1160 · 9 months

Text

The Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home in East Delhi

In the bustling metropolis of East Delhi lies a haven of tranquillity, the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home. This warm and welcoming abode stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of compassion and care for the elderly. Amidst the fast-paced world outside, this institution offers a space where time slows down, and the golden years are celebrated with dignity and love.

Step inside the unassuming gates of the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home, and you will be immediately greeted by the gentle smiles of the residents. The ambiance exudes warmth, and a sense of family permeates the air. Founded by a group of dedicated individuals with a vision to provide a meaningful and fulfilling life for the elderly, this establishment has become a pillar of support for those who have entered their golden phase of life.

The foundation's core philosophy revolves around the belief that every elderly individual deserves to spend their twilight years in an environment that fosters respect, companionship, and emotional well-being. At the heart of their care approach lies the understanding that these residents are not just aging bodies; they are individuals with unique life stories, experiences, and emotions that deserve to be valued and cherished.

The old age home offers a range of amenities designed to cater to the needs of its diverse residents. Each resident is provided with a cosy and comfortable room, tastefully furnished to create a home away from home. The communal spaces are thoughtfully designed to encourage interaction and camaraderie among the residents, helping them form meaningful bonds with one another.

The Human Peace Foundation recognizes the importance of physical well-being, and thus, it has an on-site medical facility with qualified healthcare professionals to attend to any medical concerns promptly. Regular health check-ups, exercise programs, and therapeutic activities ensure that the residents' physical health is well taken care of.

However, what sets this old age home apart is its commitment to nurturing the residents' emotional and mental well-being. Life can be tough when one feels forgotten or disconnected from the world. To counteract this, the foundation actively encourages residents to participate in various activities, workshops, and cultural events. From art classes and yoga sessions to storytelling circles and music therapy, every resident can engage in activities that pique their interests.

The caring staff at the Human Peace Foundation goes above and beyond to ensure that residents experience love and companionship every day. They are not just caregivers; they become extended family members, sharing laughter, tears, and moments of joy with those under their care.

The Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home is not just a place where the elderly reside; it is a sanctuary that celebrates life and embraces the wisdom that comes with age. It stands as a beautiful example of how society can repay its elders for their contributions by providing them with a fulfilling and cherished life in their later years.

The old age home has also become a beacon of hope for the families of the residents. Knowing that their loved ones are in good hands, surrounded by care and compassion, eases the burden of guilt and worry that often accompanies decisions about long-term care.

In a world that sometimes seems to prioritise youth and speed, the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home is a reminder that our elders deserve to be honoured and revered. As the years pass, we will all hope to find a place where we can be treated with respect, love, and dignity. The Human Peace Foundation stands tall as a guardian of those values, a testament to the beauty of growing old gracefully and in harmony.

So, the next time you pass by East Delhi, take a moment to visit the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home. Witness firsthand the power of compassion and the magic of creating a nurturing community that cherishes the golden age. Let it inspire you to spread love and respect for the elderly, for it is in giving that we truly receive the gift of humanity.

As you step further into the serene embrace of the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home, you'll find that it is not just a place for the elderly to live out their days; it is a thriving community where life finds new meaning and purpose. The foundation goes the extra mile to organize regular events that connect the residents with the outside world, bridging the generation gap and encouraging intergenerational interactions.

Local school children visit the home to spend time with the residents, sharing stories, laughter, and creating unforgettable memories. These interactions not only brighten the residents' days but also instill a sense of purpose and fulfilment in the young hearts, fostering empathy and respect for the elderly.

The Human Peace Foundation also actively engages the residents in meaningful social work, enabling them to contribute to society even in their later years. Some residents take up knitting and crafting activities to create handmade items for charitable causes. Others participate in mentoring programs, sharing their wisdom and life experiences with the younger generation.

The home's serene garden is another spot that exudes tranquility. Surrounded by lush greenery and blossoming flowers, it becomes a place for reflection and peace. Residents often gather here for morning walks or to spend quiet moments meditating, finding solace in nature's embrace.

Moreover, the Human Peace Foundation organizes workshops and seminars to address the emotional and psychological needs of the elderly. Topics such as coping with loss, managing loneliness, and fostering emotional resilience are carefully explored with the help of trained professionals. These initiatives aim to create a supportive environment where residents can freely express their feelings and receive the care they deserve.

The foundation is also dedicated to preserving and celebrating the cultural heritage of its residents. Special occasions and festivals are marked with traditional rituals, dances, and music, ensuring that the richness of their cultural backgrounds remains alive and cherished.

Beyond its compassionate care and engaging activities, the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home is also a hub for continuous learning. The residents are encouraged to pursue their interests and passions, be it learning a new language, honing artistic skills, or exploring the world of technology. The home has an extensive library that caters to diverse interests, allowing residents to quench their thirst for knowledge and lifelong learning.

The success of the Human Peace Foundation lies in the belief that age should never limit one's potential for growth and happiness. The staff works tirelessly to ensure that every resident's physical, emotional, and intellectual needs are met, creating an environment where they can thrive and lead a life filled with purpose and joy.

The Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home stands tall as a shining example of what a society should aspire to be compassionate, inclusive, and respectful of its elders. It serves as a reminder that an individual's worth does not diminish with age but, instead, blooms like a beautiful flower, radiating wisdom, love, and warmth.

In conclusion, the Human Peace Foundation Old Age Home in East Delhi is more than just a retirement facility; it is a sanctuary that redefines the concept of aging. Through its loving care, diverse activities, and commitment to empowering the elderly, it paints a vivid picture of what a compassionate and caring society should be. As we continue our journey through life, let us be inspired by the Human Peace Foundation's vision, and strive to create a world where the elderly are celebrated, valued, and cherished for their incredible contributions to our shared humanity.

#ngo #old age home #organisation

0 notes