Ok But I Legitimately Love Venti Using Outdated Sayings And Phrases?? Like Omg Thats So Good. Lol Imagine

Ok but I legitimately love venti using outdated sayings and phrases?? Like omg that’s so good. Lol imagine him saying the riptide of mortal blood thing to diluc, and then dilucs reaction to the explanation that venti gives when diluc asks what the FUCK he was talking about. Like, I just love people remembering that venti is 1) very very old, and 2) lived through very violent times in his life, along with the fact that he actively took part in at least 2 wars

More Archon War Era Venti Headcanons  one three four

For real though like the potential is endless and i just really like to think of the impact that especially the Archon War could have had on Venti's character!

.... im totally gonna expand on this now-

archon war spoilers

Imagine him taking a break between each battle, retreating to Mondstadt and composing a new song, one to play when he next sets out to fight, to kill. Because even by his own hand it would be a shame to let those who fought so hard for survival to be forgotten, so he does what he can, a divine song for each civilization he wiped out, the chorus leading the four winds to descend and carry on their memory for eternity on the very wind that caused their fall.

some see his retreat as weakness and attempt to ambush him in his own domain, a dishonorable battle fought in silence. The people of Mondstadt and Teyvat as a whole need not remember those who chose to stoop so low.

Some of these songs get picked up by other bards, carrying on as Venti had hoped, but many of them are forgotten, especially during his 1000 year sleep. But every so often, an especially giften musician with have a burst of inspiration, as if whispered to them by the wind. Those who know him look to Venti with concern as his eyes turn glassy at the familiar sound of a civilization whose memory he thought he had failed. He laughs it off, dramatically wiping his tears with a comment about how the music was just that beautiful that he couldn't help but be moved, "i couldn't have wrote a better song myself"

"let the wind lead" had a very different meaning during the Archon War. I headcanon that when in battle Venti took on his sprite form. To have anyone associate his dear friend with the carnage and terror of battle was the last thing he wanted, so sprite form it is. because of his small size, his presence was almost unnoticeable, which is why he survived so long without so much as a hand being laid on him. But one god noticed it- as four massive figures descended, in the very center, almost invisible was a concentrated presence of wind energy, absorbing and relocating energy to the four with the ever present song. And the god ran- survived, and spread the key "let the wind lead" in hopes that someone would be strong enough to avenge his people. This phrase almost cost Venti his life a number of times. Nobody knows its origin now but Venti still internally cringes each time he hears it.

Venti preferring to be outdoors and sleep in trees and such not only because he's the god freedom but because if hes indoors he wont be able to tell if someone's coming, he wont be able to get in the air in time, and he might be too late

I also headcanon that Venti is the ones who supplies Zhongli with Xiao's painkillers, since Zhongli doesn't actually have any healing abilities, and Venti is proved to have an affect on that

which leads into the next point- "but where are those who share the memory?" remember Venti's wine obsession... Venti and Zhongli - and Xiao on the occasion he can be convinces to leave his duties- getting together to speak freely, not having to watch their words, not having to be reminded 'oh right, that doesn't exist in people's memories anymore' every time. Just finally being able to reminisce, talk about the people and the things that they can no longer speak about to anyone else, speak about that which no-one else would understand. They're understanding yes, but there are very few people who can empathize with you as you talk about how you still remember that one battle where the sheer volume of blood spilled by your hand cause the calla lilies to bloom red for centuries, the tint never going away even now. Some random kid: huh i wonder why they fade to red like that Venti: why that's the blood of my enemies of course! ehe, just kidding! *looks at camera like in the office*

A lot of people view Venti as extremely superstitious because he believes and follows a lot of them, but it's because he remembers where the superstitions came from. He knows that during the archon war, breaking a mirror truly could set that god's wrath on you and simultaneously reveal your identity and location to them, that knocking on wood alerted the past Dendro archon, a benevolent god of protection to guard your words from prying eyes, at least until they were were found and killed. Venti just continues to follow them to honor their memory\.

— DARK SPRING

pairing. yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

summary. yuuta is having relationship troubles, and he isn’t sure how to go about it. 

tags. established relationship, college au, mentions of blood, murder, yuuta pov, mentions of sex

notes. been in a yuuta mood ever since the cockroach chapter, and @vamptomura just gets me when it comes to him. this is just me procrastinating on my other writing. this isn’t edited btw I literally wrote this in like two hours rn.

wc. 2k+

“Where were you? I stopped by the shop to bring you food, but they said you weren’t in today.”

The door squeaks softly on its hinges as you slowly close it behind you. Once the door is fully closed and locked in place, the doorway remains tensely silent. Yuuta watches as you turn to him fully with slightly widened eyes, lips opening and closing as you struggle to answer. 

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he finds himself relishing in the upper hand that he has over you right now. Just this morning you had told him on your daily phone call that you’d be busy at work later tonight. That usually meant you two wouldn’t see each other until the next day, but you’ve been so distant lately that Yuuta’s been yearning for you more than usual. He ached to see you, even if it was just picking up food from your favorite restaurant and dropping it off at the bookstore. It’s still packaged and bagged, now sitting cold on your kitchen counter. 

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gojou x f!reader

summary - gojou does manage to escape from his current manga situation(not mentioned in detail) but takes severe injury to his spine and holes up in one of his empty mansions. you pull him out of his depression nest, literally and metaphorically.

warnings - SMUT(minors dni) margarita mix, daddy kink, reader’s in her twenties, gojou’s in his early thirties, so if that kind of age gap bugs you there’s that, lots of chronic pain talk, lots of healing, honestly, very soft for me. mention of an old fashioned arranged marriage. manga spoilers.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, shifting your weight on the stoop in front of his house. No ones seen him for weeks, and judging by the mail you found piling up in the little green mailbox at the end of the driveway he hasn’t been going out much. You knock, and hear how easily the sound is swallowed in the monster of a house, the mansion at the top of the hill was hulking and dark in the otherwise bright landscape. No answer. 

“Hello!” You call, “Hello um, they sent me to um, to help you!” No answer. You wait a few more minutes, but an early fall breeze rears its head in late summer, and you try the knob as you shiver. To your surprise, the door creaks open. You step inside, the house is filthy. Cobwebs on the corners of the high ceilings, dust has gathered on every wooden surface, and the gloom extends the further you move through the hallway. It must have been beautiful once, ornate, even, but something about it doesn’t feel like a home, there’s something empty here that even the large heavy furniture doesn’t fill. “Hello,”  you call again, “Hello, ah, Gojou-sama!” You hear slight movement upstairs and resolve to follow it. You keep your guard up, checking over your shoulder as you move up the huge entrance staircase, and then down the first hallway on the right towards the sound you heard. You come to a pair of double doors with intricate carvings, and realize this must be the master bedroom. “Gojou-sama?” You hear a soft groan, and push the door open. 

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Splintered Heart

Pairing: Kazuha x reader, Ayato x reader (could be both in a way?)

Genre: Arranged marriage, angst

✧ this a Fu Hua theme blog✧

Kazuha's pinky is curled around yours, a soft smile on his face as his cheeks are painted with a faint blush.

"Together, forever." He grins as you blink at him surprised before nodding your head as you return his excited smile as you look at the strand of grass tied around your ring finger.

You look back at him as you could see the love in his gaze as he stares back at you. "Together, forever."

He leans in to give you a tiny peck on the cheek as you both smile shyly at each other.

Oh, the ignorance of children.

"Y/n, will you be able to sign these in Ayato's place? I can't seem to find him." You look back to see Thoma scratching the back of his head, in his hands are a few documents that needed to be signed. Smiling, you nod your head, "of course, here let's go to my office." You says, Thoma following closely behind as you pass some of the guards who give him a side glance but you pay no attention to them.

"So you say that you can't find Ayato anywhere?" Glancing back, Thoma nods his head and you look back with a tiny smile on your lips. Fulling knowing where he was at, he was with that Oni friend of his, Itto, so you decided that he can rest and you'll take on the workload for today.

"I see, that's unfortunate but no worries. I will take on the work for today so let's get to work shall we?"

You open the door and he closes it behind him, your hand gesturing him to sit down as you look over the documents.

"Will these be all? Or is there anymore?" You read the papers, your eyes scanning the words before you read a familiar request. Narrowing your eyes at this but don't say anything, you just sign the paper with your signature, making sure it was neat and formal.

"Those will be all of now."

Thoma stands up and hands you a box that usually keep stored away unless it was needed. Unlocking the box, you pull out a Dendro vision and clip it to the back of your kimono's ribbon.

"Since it was Ayaka's request to see a demonstration welcome event for any travelers that may come to visit, I will go today." You say, making sure the vision wouldn't fall out before walking outside.

"You can stay here and rest, Thoma. I'm sure you're tired from running around doing errands for everyone." You could see him shaking his head, "no, there's no need my lady."

You let out a laugh at this, and he sighs, knowing he won't win this. "Alright, I'll stay here and relax. But at least let me see you out."

You two walk out estate and over to the entrance, "I'll be back soon make sure to make dinner and prepare a bath for Ayato when he return!" You wave at him before walking away, humming a tune to yourself as you walk through the forest, ignoring the Hilichurls that seem to hide at your presence.

Holding onto the papers, you walk all the way to the city to find people already getting the decorations ready.

Ayaka notices you from afar and she runs towards you, "Y/n, I didn't think you would accept my request." She says surprised, you hand her the paperwork, which she looks over to see your signature on it. She smiles at this shyly, but it was filled with thankfulness. You knew she loved anything related to flowers and always loved seeing you in action with your vision.

You grin at this, ruffling her hair softly before getting your wrists ready, "come on, we're familiar, it's been like that for years." You say, "anyways, let's go to Ritou to practice that grad opening you have planned out. I've been itching to use my vision again."

She nods her head at this.

The two of you head over there, making small talk between you two until you spot a few children who seemed to have spotted you. Their small legs carry them to you two and behind your fan, you smile as Ayaka gives you a side glance.

"Y/n! Y/n! We haven't seen you in a long time!" They chirp happily and with a snap of your finger, all of them are holding their favorite flower and they're at awe at this.

"You have cool powers! I wished I get a Dendro vision too so I can have powers like you." You giggle at this, brushing off their compliments with a wave of your hand. "Nonsense, you're all worthy for a better vision but enough of that, you four will help me and Ayaka with the hard entrance of the festival for all the new people visiting, how about it?"

The joyful glint in their eyes was enough to know their answers, so you walk forward with Ayaka behind you shortly, the children behind her as well.

"We get to help!" People around you all watch in disbelief.

"Lady Y/n seems to be more healthy this year," a pair of woman whisper to each other, one of them smack their lips together, "can't she just drop dead already? Isn't that like her illness or something? Surely Lord Ayato would want a healthy wife—"

Speak of the devil, here he comes.

"On the contrary, she's the perfect wife by far. It would be a shame to let a woman like herself slip through my fingers." Ayato's voice is hard behind them and they freeze up, they were caught taking ill about his wife, especially that they wished for death upon her.

"We're sorry, my lord, we were just joking—" they tried to play around but the stern look on his face was enough to say he didn't believe them.

Despite his formally and polite appearance to the public, he glares at them with disgust, "I advise to not talk ill about my wife in such a manner again or else I will be taking action against you two for making such death threats." He scoffs, walking away as he follows his sister and Y/n from a distance, smiling as he watches the h/c haired laughing happily with his little sister.

"No one is to judge you, my dear, they don't have the slightest idea what you have been through." He says to himself. "The heart breaks and cruelty...."

He sees you grow flowers of all kinds as Ritou is soon filled with them and he knees down to pick up a Cecelia, "....someone like you deserved better."

A/n: reposting this cuz I was shadowbanned and if this does well, I'll post the second part just to see I'm not still shadowbanned in a way.

Masterlist

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘖𝘧 𝘈 𝘚𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦

words:2.3k

WARNING: graphic depictions of violence, blood, angst, open ended/ambiguous ending, descriptions of death.

request: “Can i request sukuna x male reader. Where reader keeps reincarnating with each lifetime for a curse and every time he remembers sukuna, he dies after gaining memories back. You can choose if theres a good ending or angst. Thank you king! I fell in love with him especially after reading that one shot i had to watch jjk and hes hot! Thank you for turning me into a sukuna simp! Much love”

a/n: i went,,,overboard with this request 🗿 BUT IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITESSIJEHSHE i’m honored to have introduced you to such a foine man

When you were five, only then had you understood the curse deemed ‘Ryoumen Sukuna.’ A rather tall man with two heads, one of which had splattered blood onto your sneakers. You understood the concept of death, of course, but could never truly comprehend the feeling of nothingness after watching your life flash before your eyes until nineteen. But there you stood, clutching the loop of your shorts when you witnessed the murder of your entire village. You didn’t know evil could have a moral compass, but the tall curse seemed to exclude half of the women and children. After the widening of youthful eyes and curdling screams you learned the monster took likings to things too. Women, with shaking forms and broken spirits. He’d stop before them, stare at them with eyes that could- in fact- kill, if they truly wanted to. But then he stopped in front of you.

“Close your eyes, Brat.” Death's hands were just as large as your family painted them out to be, if not larger. Calloused and riddled with blood as they are placed over your ears. You do as he- it says, squeezing your eyes shut and enclosing your eyes behind the meat of your palms just to be extra careful. You can see stars behind your eyelids, just as you can feel the sickening twang of death lingering in the air. You were aware it would happen at some point, Death would find its place for you over and over and over again, you’d been told since the day you were born.

There’s another sound, only muted under large palms. You don’t need your sense of sight or hearing to know what it was, the warm chunks splattering onto your skin was enough. Immediately, you flinched. When you opened your eyes, there were piercing eyes staring straight into your own. It looked so human, but something was off. Uncanny, as if it took years to manipulate its flesh and bone to emulate humans to a T. But there was nothing human behind those eyes, instead a void of nothingness. Death itself. If Death could express interest, you’d have thought that was the expression it was imitating. It offers a hand, one of four. Larger than your face, with sharp claws that could almost be described as talons. Darkened by dirt and remains of your loved ones, if it truly wanted to kill you, it could. It could tear you limb from limb with the wave of a finger. And it knew that.

So you took the hand, and he became your second home.

When you were ten, you learned about the red string of fate. It could never be broken, and those connected by it would always reunite, no matter the circumstances. You often had nightmares, those of which filled with blurred faces and sharp pain that reached you in your lucid state. Dreams of talons, piercing eyes, and double headed monsters. You dreamt under the stars, tasted metal on your tongue, and choked on smoke that wasn’t actually there. You dreamt of facial markings, details that you couldn’t exactly place, a name that you couldn’t quite remember. It left your tongue feeling thick in your mouth, racked tremors through your body, and caused premature dark circles to accumulate under your eyes.

When you were nineteen, you experienced your last breath. The air was stolen from your lungs, crushed under years of heartbreak and terror, and snatched from you in the dead of night. Your eyes glazed over, and nothingness overtook you. It left you for someone else to find, cold and lifeless. A void, similar to the eyes you had finally placed. But that didn’t matter much then, you had already drifted away from your body.

And that was that.

Thus, the cycle repeated. Under different names, different ages, different genders. There was always something gnawing away at your conscience, you felt as though you were forgetting something. But when you finally remembered, it was too late. And there was nothing you could do about it.

It was almost like deja vu, stepping outside your home to find blood splattered on the concrete floor. It made your blood run cold, sent a tremor through your body and made you feel like you were five again. Small and defenseless. You take it as your best interest to go back inside before you pass out, but the second you whip your body around you meet something- someone?- large and sturdy.

“Sukuna.” That was it, the sour taste at the tip of your tongue, the lingering sensation at the back of your brain. Him. He didn’t look the same, no, much smaller with tufts of pink hair. There’s something behind his eyes this time, something almost irrevocably human. For some reason that’s much scarier than what you remember. What you think you remember. He’s much more human, but the way he looks at you is everything but humane. He looks frustrated, angry at something, as if he’ll implode any second and go on a rampage. Dread bubbles up in your stomach, nearly erupting through your mouth as bile. It felt as though something should be happening, like something usually happened when the itch went away. He chuckles, low in his throat as he cranes his neck to put his face uncomfortably close to your own. His hands, still large, find their way to your wrist, gripping your right hand uncomfortably tight. For a moment, you consider how long a trip to the hospital would be if he shattered the bone beneath his fingers. But instead there’s a jolt of electricity that would’ve had you yanking your hand back if he weren’t holding it.

“What? You look different.” He all but purrs, inspecting your palm with long nails. Not long enough to be talons, but longer than those of a claw. It was true, you did look different. He wondered if you spent your lifetimes looking exactly the same. That couldn’t have been possible, he would’ve found you much easier, then. Still quite boyish, as if the body you were in didn’t originally belong to you. Clearly grown out of cargo shorts and polos, much taller than you were before. There was no way he could have forgotten you, the way you jumped when the remains of your loved one splattered across your legs. The way you stared back at him with a look of acceptance, the way you grabbed his hand and allowed him to lead you out of the village. It explained the body memories perfectly, the feeling of large palms on your head and remnants of a brain splattering onto your knees.

“Last time I saw you,” He let’s go of your wrist with a bored expression, then replaces its spot with the top of your head. He shoves you down, and you make an effort to ignore the crack your knees make when they smack against the concrete. Then, he crouches down to stare you directly in the eye, just like he had the first time you met. His eyes were no longer dark, instead a deep shade of red that caught light from the moon. They reminded you of vials of blood. “You were this tall. Much cuter in this century.”

“And you were bigger.” Sukuna laughs as if hearing that was the funniest thing in the world. He leans his weight into you and uses you as a support beam, laughing until his ribs burn and beg for a break. But how could he laugh at a time like this? He didn’t think it was weird? He’s existed for centuries, murdered for millennias and only now has he seen you. That wasn’t how it worked, when you died, you died. But Sukuna was a walking oxymoron to that statement. When he died, if he died, he would return. He’d return through you, the last fragments of his soul would stay bound to yours until the end of time. Perhaps that’s how he knew, how he remembered. Perhaps that’s why he still took the time to find you, even after countless years of failure. It was peculiar, but not as much as being bound to Death himself. It was a sick game of turning the phrase ‘Til’ death do you part,’ because in your case it was literal.

“You’re still a brat.” His voice is closest to something fond, as if he’s reminiscing sweet memories. It was much different on your account, and part of you wondered if Sukuna understood that. He makes no effort to help you up (he explains that you’re “a big boy now”) as he invites himself into your apartment. Nothing special, he doesn’t care much for family photos or if you have them, but the stacks of letters and books on your table peak his interest. He tears apart envelopes as if he owns them, reads through the contents and discards them to the floor if he deems them useless. The way he sits nearly breaks your chair, and, honestly, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.

So you sit beside him.

“You were so scared,” He says, almost as if he were bragging. But he was known to be arrogant and cocky, that was just his nature. He didn’t truly mean it like that, in fact, he looked quite reverent after letting the thought drift into the air. It was kind of funny, such a powerful thing fawning over past memories. But that wasn’t how this should go, you had your memory back, so why hasn’t anything happened? “When you grabbed my hand you stopped shaking.”

“...”

“It’s a shame I couldn’t keep you long,” He visibly frowns, the skin around his lips worry, but you can't tell if it’s genuine or not. He looks at you with something knowing the second the thought enters your head. “I looked for you, at first. You died young, for a human.”

Ninteen. ‘I should have been there,” he wants to add.

“Why aren’t I dying now?” You interrupt and let the panic sink in, the thought of impending doom sits on your shoulders because, really, it could happen at any moment. But this time, you don’t want it to. You remember accepting death when it came to your door at the young age of five, nineteen, countless times over and over. You had only ever gotten this far, you weren’t ready yet. You couldn’t start over, not now. “Sukuna?”

The question sours his mood in the blink of an eye, and instead of looking through your things, he raises himself from his seat to rest his palms on the table. It seemed he had a thing for staring down at people, making them cower under his stone cold gaze. You note the way his jaw clenches. You open your mouth to speak again, but he seems to have other plans. He squeezes your cheeks, making your lips purse together under the pressure of his large fingers. The movement feels familiar, like he’s done it before. The five years you spent with him were still a bit of a blur, but you remembered holding his hand quite often. He’d tell you to close your eyes if there was something he didn’t want you to see, he’d ruffle your hair a bit too hard, let you sleep on his back if he was out in the town. But that was all you remembered. He remembered it all.

“Respect your elders,” He lets go and sits back down as if he hadn’t just thrown a tantrum over you interrupting him. Sukuna was centuries old, but even then, he’d exhibit immature behavior sometimes. Living for so long had to get boring (and lonely) at some point, perhaps that was why he looked for you. He did consider you something close to family, after all. In truth, there were some lifetimes where you met. Some when you were friends, something more than that, and something inseparable. And that’s why you hadn’t died yet, you didn’t remember it all. “It’s rude to interrupt someone when they’re talking.”

“You’re much more handsome in this life.” His smile is much more intimidating than sweet, the sinister curl to his lips would only ever be associated with bloodshed in your eyes. But it was much more than that. Nights of sleeping together, days of laughter and flirtatious comments, soft moments that only you had seen. And it was bittersweet, because he knew the second he’d jog your memory you’d be gone. It wasn’t just a curse for you, but for him. Maybe it was his punishment for hurting so many people, dragging an innocent soul down with him and hanging them by the red string of fate. The comment makes your skin prickle with heat. Sukuna was quite the charmer when he wanted to be, easily picking at your weak spots with whatever you wanted to hear. But the comment was much more for the sake of his own, instead of yours.

Sukuna stands, hot on his heels as he holds out his hand one last time. If something were to happen to you tonight he’d make the most out of it, just as he did countless times over and over. So many years of starting over, getting to know you in various different bodies, realizing that being trapped away was the only way you’d get to live a full life, it was always on his mind. You were always on his mind.

So you take his hand. And for the millionth time, he’d become your second home.

taglist:

@ryoukuna @indigowren21 @cannedfoodisbestfood @junkwhoore @kissesdenji @sanderssidesangsttrash @i-d0g @kaito-asmr @jream-23 @princejasno @mel-bigia04 @mhasimp666 @onehellofasimp @corporeal-terrestrial @angelaturservice @shadows-of-nightmares @rinkindaugly

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

incubus!Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

genre. forbidden love, romance, smut

s. who knows how many lives we have lived and how many we have forgotten in the course of our existence. “you should be grateful ….” he says with a smirk as you feel a strange connection building between the two of you

cw. huge cock!Sukuna, mild dubcon at first, size kink, dirty talk, oral, fingering, squirting, manhandling, creampie, praise, tits play, belly bulge, cumflation, 69, doggy, mating press + plot twist | wc. 6K

cw. lower-ranking incubus!Yuji — Yuji is Sukuna’s underling

an. Sukuna in his incubus form has 4 arms and horns + his usual tattoos — rbs + interactions are appreciated — m.list

There is a sculpture at the entrance to the private college you attend.

A beautiful naked woman lying on what is supposed to represent a bed trying to push away a monstrous being, with horns and wings, who wants to lie with her.

You have always found the work interesting. The way the artist carved into the white marble the woman’s frightened expression, the draping of the sheets beneath her, the scary being laying its claws on her flesh.

“You’ve been looking at this statue for three years, it’ll be there tomorrow too,” the blonde’s voice made you wrinkle your nose, “the new sensei is coming today, come on, I’m curious”.

They were all in trepidation for the arrival of the new art history teacher. The only man who would be present inside the women’s college you’ve been attending for three years now. Everyone had been talking about him for weeks and finally, after winter break, he had arrived.

The art room had never been so full and after getting a glimpse of the new sensei you could see why.

He looked anything but like a teacher. His pink hair was pulled back tied in a small bun, his tattooed arms were clutched in the white t-shirt he wore, and his biker boots pulled tight around his ankles.

Something about him made your stomach tickle as the lessons got deeper.

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