ourolite here 🙈 been a while, hasn’t it? yeah, anyways.. we made a new account HERE! @ourolite (ignore the ridiculous name, tumblr and its rules won’t let it become ourolite… yet). we figured that we should have some sort of fresh start, as we’ve been drawn to more original works naturally. if you’re not interested in oc stuff, it’s fine; it’s a simple announcement. but if you aaaareeee theeeeen… come.
but uh, yeah. this account is official dead, but the authors are STILL ALIVE, ALRIGHT? alright… stay colored. – ourolite, neso speaking.
so, i recently concluded that cats tend to have the overwhelming need to scratch due to inexpressible emotions, to trim their nails, or to mark what’s theirs with the subtle sweat glands in their paws.
this wondrously explains as to why your muliebrous kitty, who is temperamentally self-serving and haughty, was destined to clamp his pearlescent-painted walls around your dick. your hips were battering into him to the point where his choked sobs and splutters were prevalent. his calico-printed ears that are generally pinned against his head to evince exasperation are now poorly coordinating with the rhythm of your strokes, not to mention that his mini tiered beige skirt journeyed halfway up his waist since it was too loose for him. then, finally, for it was the primary cause of your pained grunts, his bladed nails were performing an audacious act of abrasion; you were sure that there was nothing left of your epidermis.
“fuck me- fuck me please- fuck me- fff-mmmhm!” his whimpers were imbued with quivers and mewls that would only parrot a frazzled kitten imploring for solace from his distant mother. they were eventually subdued by the way you grabbed his face to focus his attention into another upcoming, sloppy kiss, but this didn’t deter the attention from your back. you were sure that the exterior of it was tainted with carmine, but you were too muddled with a lecherous adulation to address the manner. besides, if you were to stop now, you’ll definitely earn blubbered abasements and pathetic fingering from the poor kitty.
seriously, how many times did he need to remind you of who you belong to, and when will you start actually minding your blood loss?
⬭ 𓈒 ݁ mise en scène xiao + male ( unassigned race ) reader. one-shot coded! sfw/slightly suggestive. written in third person, little playful flirts, little moans, little kissing, y’know how it be. ༄
“Given that I’m the more romantic one as well, if not am the romantic one… don’t you find that flattering?”
𝒴ou think that an Adeptus being reduced to reposing on the highest railing of Wangshuu Inn was the perfect opportunity to harass it, don’t you? The titillating scent of qingxin flowers, which featured a nostalgic longing of vanilla abstract, was enough to send poor ol’ Xiao to another conflicting spiral, seeing as you, his boyfriend, tend to utilize his favored scents against him in order to, and he quotes, “neutralize him”. At first, as much he refuses to admit it, your silage was memorable and effective, though the ludicrous comparisons only delayed his reactions, for Xiao’s combative persona enjoys to shut him down completely.
“You think I would be interested in such idle matters?” A response that you anticipated grandly; he has told you countless times that his intuition is Herculean. His wry humor (or what he considers to be “humorous”) was another trait etched within your heart, no matter how dismissive he deems himself to be for the sake of admitting his faults while dismissing his pride. Even your feline counterpart, who forbade himself from rubbing his cheek against Xiao’s ankle, looked up at you as if he overheard the word “no” — an expression imbued with incredulity. Xiao knew that you were more than invested in romance from the day he “consulted” the former Geo Archon for tips… masked with complaints, of course.
“Aside from that, mocking a mortal’s standards should not be anywhere near a challenge for an Adeptus. Your predictability is laughable.”
Your soft lips, ones that were lathered with a Nilotpala-based oil, one of the finest flowers located in Sumeru, parted slightly with feigned puzzlement and offense after hearing Xiao’s ironically predictable response. He accepted that he was shorter than you, made more mistakes than you, but you being more familiar with romance than him is when he draws the line? Oh, how priceless, not even the Golden House was enough to bribe you into forgetting all about his reaction.
With a lighthearted laugh, you leaned closer to your lover’s inexpressible facial features, though you were quite fixated on his medallion-adorned eyes, which told the most tales out of every single fiber of the shorter male’s body. They were quick to flutter and widen like a Monarch butterfly’s first hibernation during the month that governed the most somnolent snow, November. They would prod and dart like a proboscis with its pistil, though it seems that this little butterfly in question was struggling to focus on the silk flower before it. Perhaps it was his first feast?
“Xiao, your mind is as sharp as the scepter you wield, though I do have some doubts…”
Your tone was embedded with a puckish uncertainty that would also offend the Vigilant Yaksha, seeing as you would seem rather genuine with your words, though your charisma definitely confined the condescending snark you muttered towards ones you’re humored by. It would be easier to retort with something equally as snark, but instead Xiao scoffed before rudely scooting away from his aggravating lover, which earned intrusive snickers from the tri-colored feline below the both of them.
“A parrot’s purpose… what is it?”
He wasn’t going to inure another one of your mind games, he wasn’t. Another whirl of aggravation aroused within his abdomen that he compares to what mortals receive when they eat something unordinary. Perhaps being bound to one causes an Adeptus to strip away its importance until it’s no more than a mere bug on the fence. How could he ever confront Zhongli about this? His adeptual prowess dissipated because of his mortal.. such absurdity is needed to be solved alone, and by solved, he means by fanning it off with a baleful lour and a commanding:
“Elaborate.”
An impatient man, very complimentary indeed. You couldn’t help but chuckle endearingly at his demand as you watched him cross his arms over his chest that corresponded with his infamous glower. Indigo, the well-trusted sidekick and sorry excuse of a wingman sensed the circulating tension, resulting in him yowling intrusively (likely equivalent to a human instigating, what a silly kitty). While angling your head so that you were playfully staring up at Xiao, your grasp tightened on the bar of the railing to keep your balance unharmed. As “predictable” mortals turn out to be, emotions will remain unbridled, and that’s something you would never hear from a roseate-tickled nose.
“Show me how well you could imitate human culture,” You demanded, though your demands were far from definite and controlling, but rather tranquilizing and suggestive. Your eyes were muddled with adulating words that Xiao could unlock with little permission, but because he was so new to this whole dating thing, he prefers to keep the romanticism to a minimum. Though, Xiao was being put on the spot here, considering that his boyfriend potentially threatened his pride to diminish in order to break his own pride, which was unbreakable. It was very contradictory, and the paradox was merely causing more nauseating swirls in his gut. Oh how much he despised this mortal body and all its perplexing components.
One who he didn’t despise, ironically, is the one who was harassing him at the moment — the charismatic beau who didn't comprehend the concept of personal space, the one whose feathery fingers trail circles amongst Xiao’s archaic forearm tattoos, or simply… Y/n, the one whose lips were tainted with desirability that had the potential to diffuse any mortal’s suspicion without getting too deep into verbal persuasion. Xiao could acknowledge your talent, and he was rather impressed, but the longer he had to listen to you speak, the more his mind was no more than an intrusion itself. Times like this he was convinced that you were anything but human; how could a mere mortal man make him ruminate with this much intensity?
Time was of the essence, for he didn’t have even a millisecond to predict your movements, let alone one for rumination. Your fingers broke him out of his concentrated yet miffed expression in order to keep his head from drifting away from you. Xiao didn’t even realize his attempt on looking away judging by the way his eyes widened with shock. He shook it away however, like he always does, since you were pampering his poor mind with an additional question — “Show me how you would charm me in a way that makes me sick.”
Xiao didn’t have a clue on what you meant, though as stated previously, his mind was sharp enough to use context clues. If charming resulted in stomach aches such as the ones he was receiving, then he definitely didn’t want to return the favor, let alone sudden heat flashes of supposed delirium. He was convinced that he was going insane at the moment. How could mere teasing cause such an inane reaction? The worst part about it is that your guys’ ideal of a “safe word” consisted of him teleporting for a moment only to return the next day, so it was mortifying knowing that Y/n was relishing in the poor Adeptus’s distress.
Xiao took a deep breath, finally retaliating after a moment of fluster. “Tch… such an exasperating—”
“Please?” Politely and genuinely, which wasn’t uncharacteristic in the slightest, you pleaded while finally removing your hand from Xiao’s chin. Your eloquence is one of the reasons why Xiao was invested in you in the first place, so it makes sense as to why you used your genuinity against him. Not to mention the slight spark that inflamed into a raging wildfire in his chest once you dropped your act, reducing to your teasing persona; it never failed to just drive him closer and closer to insanity. “Or perhaps you are ignorant to the idea of romance. Our little game of opposite attract has come to an—”
He was compelled to shut you up, right then and there. And so he did. Impulsively. One moment he was impetuously grasping onto your shirt collar, rightfully earning a warning hiss from the eavesdropping calico and a widened eye partner whose body threatened to fall off the balcony, and then the next moment Sumeru’s moony petals blossomed amorously across the Yaksha’s tongue once his lips waltzed alongside of yours. The choreography was futile, seeing as not enough research in the world could prepare Xiao for this moment, therefore he’s relying on utter instinct, unlike the mortal who could definitely get used to Xiao’s sudden inexperienced kisses. Romance was no less than a distraction for ones with unconcentrated minds that were easily inflicted with delusions, Xiao would mentally declare.
Repetitively, he mentally scolded himself, claiming that he was merely showing you that he could be delusional as well. He could mock your cultural values, and his lips could give you that ethereal effect like no other. Xiao was so blinded by your taunts and challenges, he was finally realizing what he’s done, which caused him to immediately break from the deplorable kiss with a pale, stretched face. He was going to verbalize his excuses quickly, though Y/n was feeling uncharacteristically rude with the way he pressed his lips against Xiao’s once again.
You were meticulous and patient, chuckling against his quivering lips as Xiao used the little knowledge he had on kissing in order to impress you. The additional tongue from the Adeptus was something to cackle at once you’re through, and the way you could feel him groan in discomfort was even more humorous. It was utterly obvious that it was his first time, so prying wouldn’t do much good.
“Xiao… Xiao… beloved…” You cooed his name and endearing sobriquet breathlessly in between the kisses like some sort of mantra, successfully earning another groan from him, but instead he pulled away from the kiss the second time, making it clear that he didn’t want to attempt again by scooting over and facing his head the opposite direction. He hasn’t teleported yet, so it gave you the time to adore the way his ears gleamed an intense crimson and even—
Oh, there he goes.
Instinctively, you slid off the railing when your boyfriend vanished within thin air right before he even began to say anything. Externally, your expression neutralized into a look of relief when this said action occurred, but your mind now began to race with unresolved questions that needed to be answered accordingly and promptly. You were now extremely worried that he caused discomfort to him; the idea made you sigh to yourself, shaking your head with disappointment.
⑅ neso productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.
Imagine how much scarier zombie movies would be if the zombies smiled when they saw you because they were excited to finally eat. Imagine walking into a building to go and find shelter, scavenge, whatever, and you shine your flashlight into a room only to find several zombies idling there. Your light catches their eyes and they turn to look at you, their expressions desolate and empty. However, the moment they spot you, their open mouths turn to wide uncontrollable smiles and their eyes disappear into slits. They almost look friendly. Maybe even some of them manage to laugh instead of groan. How would you feel after months and months of losing people you know to smiling hoards? How would you feel after every encounter with a joyful zombie leaves you shaken and tired and fearful? How would you feel after hearing the sounds of laughter mixed in with the sounds of screaming and flesh being torn? After everything, what would your brain's wiring process do to you when you see a friend smile? Would you hate smiling? Would you feel rage? Would your brain devolve back into a time where showing one's teeth always meant a threat? What would you do if the joy of the human race was now only kept by the dead
In most species a "smile" is a threat, showing their teeth as a warning. So it's a twisted echo that reveals the truth through a mirror. The final vestiges of their humanity but it's all WRONG, joy that becomes a terror
꒰꒰ CONCEPT.ㅤ some messy general headcanons with no less than circe himself. so, stay a while, grab a bite, no need to delay us with fight or flight. we'll need you plump and full for the bumpy ride... darling, i said grab a bite, or before long he might. is that what you want? less appetite than appetizer on your mind, is there?
꒰꒰ ALLERGY WARNING.ㅤ includes ... neutrally suggestive themes, lil’ fluff in the head canon portion p chill, yandere-like reader, sub + needy reader who’s also a degradee, teasing/slight degradation, mentions of blood consumption, insinuated human consumption (he is a vampire, what do you want from me), ominous tones, insinuated reader death (not described), addressing him as sir and mentioning him as master (not in any slave play kind of way), and gender neutral reader.
੭᱙. vampire!oc who sautés blood in a pan or drizzles it prettily overtop his meals. circe yué'li incorporates it into his meals creatively, maybe as a dressing, or perhaps as added flavor to some strawberry filling, rather than sucking it down straight from the source. can you imagine? doesn't that feel too.. cannibalistic? he’s a vampire, but please, goodness, he’s not primitive. the man has some dignity, he's not as old as dracula himself, jeez! have some manners.. (*cough, cough* uh.. circe has been tamed by society and an upright consciousness, but there is still something very wrong with him deep down. at the end of the day, he's a raw, sacrifical, eat-or-be-eaten animal. if he were to lose control somehow, circe would attempt to kill countless strangers, associates and loved ones without any recognition of who or what they are! teehee :3)
੭᱙. vampire!oc who is a firm believer that it does matter where the blood comes from. circe's not a fan of chicken blood or any bird-related blood really, so he just feeds the appendages and organs of these animals to his dogs when he's hunting (they're on raw diets, which are really good for dogs btw). this nigga prefers the blood of mythical creatures, however they're hard to come by as prey, since they often end up as his friend or associate or fucking mother-in-law rather than his prey *circe sighs in slight disappointment*. if not mythical, however, then he enjoys the taste of the blood of sea creatures, fellow vampires honestly, and all animals in the cat family (lions, tigers, leopards, his lover— oh, whoops!)
੭᱙. vampire!oc who is territorial as fuck over his home and hunts trespassers by any and all means.
੭᱙. vampire!oc who, despite being a vampire, goes to sleep unbearably early??? he’s passing out between 9 and 10pm generally. anything past that? there’s either a very valid reason as to why, or anyone witnessing him awake at 1am should be careful. no, i will not specify why caution is my word of advice for this scenario.
੭᱙. vampire!oc who wasn't a dog person but now has a doberman and a bloodhound who he'd go to kuzimu and back for. he loves snuggling with his first dog, the doberman, known as yìzé! circe gets nostalgic, yes, but also yìzé is just such a tsundere. he'll behave so stoic, stern and determined in front of others, but when it’s just him and circe he’s like a hopeless, adoring puppy again. <3 most often, he snuggles with babydoll, the oh-so-fitting bloodhound, who is not afraid to give kisses and cuddles!
੭᱙. vampire!oc who has two non-vampire boyfriends. wow, wow, wow! i know right? how lucky is he to be dating two of neso’s oc’s at the same damn time? he's the tallest of the trio, and also the clumsiest— partially due to his height. (i hear that’s a canon difficulty with tall people universally, chat is this real?) anyways, those oc’s will be revealed in time :PP now, stay tuned and snack on a little head canon drabble thing completely unrelated to the previous head canons. :D xD without further edging, introducing yours truly, circe yué’li!
𑁤 Loitering in Circe Yue'li's lea is the last location any death-abiding being should be. Alas, you're not here to abide or decline death, you're here for him, isn't that right?
He's pinning you. Blades of grass caress and itch your left cheek as your face is pressed along the pervasive greenery, with the crook of your neck being imposed upon as the cedar-skinned man-eater narrows his starved search for the prettiest piece of you to bite down on. He's confident that he'll go for that protruding vein streaming down the side of your neck; it's practically calling his name with every throb and thump, but as he slips out his tongue to take a taste, his prey deems it appropriate to grin. To smile, even? Well isn't that a sanguine way to live. Too eagle-eyed and cat-minded to proceed, your unfocused eye contact is physically demanded unto his own. He turns your head straight, then grants you the privelage of speaking to you, after humming in a dry, rough manner of acknowledgement. "Is there something fun about this to you? I take it you must like trespassing and cannibalism, stuff like this and that. Right?"
With the lack of fear in your visual reaction, as well as your hitched breaths and swallowed whines, he's sure the vengeful one of his boyfriends didn't earn you a death wish by sending him yet another snac- er.. victim. You came along all by your lonesome, of your own blankly lustful avidity, so it seems.
Becoming less phlegmatic with the scenario than unattractively tentative, Circe weighs his limited options. He may, one, give you what treatment you're due and enjoy a prompt lunch, or he may, two, pretend to be as morally upright as a socially-acceptable mortal man and release you back into the wild where you evidently do not belong.
"If you had to choose between a bite in your neck or a bite on your thigh, which would you prefer?" A scrupulous glare complements his straight-faced mug as he focuses on you from above, his gruff yet gentle voice proving his hunger to be placed on the back-burner for today's preference of food-play. But careful. He's becoming a vessel to restlessness as he's not fond of how long his favorite, flared black jeans have been in contact with the ground, as this scenario has exceeded at least a full minute by now.
Responding carelessly with a flirtatious tone and honey-drenched tongue, you sweetly sigh and mutter, "Anywhere.. please, sir? Just one little bite? A.. lick... lower?" Oh, bloody baby. You darling, doe-eyed ditz. How could you know he only asked so he could attest to himself that you were as romantically-disturbed as he envisioned and therefore fully worth ridding of? It's logic he's working with, love, and at this rate it's long overdue.
Really, do you enjoy the feeling of hopelessness in the pit of your stomach? That fluttering, warmness touching along your crotch? Does being such a pathetic presentation for Master Yuè’li turn you on? For fucks sake, you're less than a blood orange to him.
"Hm.. No, no thanks. That's a nice act, but if you could've showed me you were even a little bit sorry, then maaaybe I would've let you go." Presuming you as dead, despite your brief charm and hopeless, dumb-cutie prattle, Circe's grin widens as he leans back into that vein. The one that's been maintaining eye contact with him even more than that teary eyed, desperate, sick puppy-eyed look you've been limiting his lidded eyes to. His plump lips tickle that fleeting pulse beneath your febrile skin, earning your quivering body a chuckle against it from his agape mouth. God, but how blessed you are in your final moments, huh?
"Honestly, I didn't think you'd give in like that, I'm not some common grab, am I? Hm.. heh.. I wonder.." He gives your lash-fluttering peer one last look, his black-nailed hand lightly trapping a grip around your neck as his fangs give you a glimmered wink with his toothy smile. You swallow, and he sighs, asking one more query. "Did my lovers tell you how I like that nickname, sweetheart? How'd you say it..? 'Sir'?"
⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.
bro whoever tf this haithie girl think she is, just honestly stfu.
Claiming that a fic is YOURS when it actually was written by @yuutx is honestly pathetic. Then also REBLOGGING her works? Honestly, wtf is going through your mind?
I would know that its one of athenas works, because i get notifications whenever she posts and i was THE FIRST AND I MEAN IT TO LIKE AND COMMENT ON THAT KABUKIMONO FIC BUT IT WAS LATER DELETED DIE TO LACK OF NOTES. And haithie takes advantage of that and CLAIMS it to be her own works? What the actual fuck
Its so obvious its taken. The similarity of the layout with the heart and repost are rlly appreciated. Bro, you aint sly pooksters. Its honestly so embarrassing. Not even being able to write your own fics so you steal others and having the audacity to reblog the work.
AND HONESTLY, LOOK AT THE COPYRIGHT SHIT LIKE ITS ALL THE SAME
♱ all sobriquets + pseudonyms. ࿓ fang/master yuè’li ( legendary title + formal title ), circo/mr. circo ( playful + respectful, via yashmi ), sir ( his dogs + formal others ), sir circe/ sir yuè’li ( formalities/commonly respectful ).
ᰍ overall notables. plays an electric guitar (named it delune). has a bloodhound named babydoll and a doberman named yìzé. works as a part-time music teacher for 2nd - 3rd graders. asanbosam’s (the type of vampire he is) are more agile in trees and high places, so he’s kind of clumsy otherwise. often recommends products (notably the brand anzhong, originated by an upcoming oc of neso’s), random cleaning tips, or even seasonings. considers calling off of work a lot, though he knows if he does they’re bound to fire him this time. circe also doesn’t socialize too much, and he’s very territorial about his cottage (and so is yìzé— wonder where he gets that from). he’s a little too territorial actually, seeing as circe usually sucks the blood of/eats any trespassers that ignore his precaution signs. he does so by jumping down from the roof of the cottage or a tree and pinning them. (even friends get tackled if they don’t give him a heads up that they’re on the way!)
ᰍ standard physical facts. 6'3. retractable wings with a 20 foot span, which are black and grey with red, pink and silver undertones, and retractable iron hooks for feet. tips of his hair turn auburn when he’s experiencing intense emotions. always smells like anzhong products- particularly colognes. has a chinese tattoo on his inner forearm that translates to damu héxián qín. his nails are painted black, but they get chipped easily because he’s really hands-on daily. lastly, he has a deep, relaxed and very distinctive voice which can be heard here!
დ genshin au notables! n/a ( temporarily ).
დ spider-verse au notables! n/a ( temporarily ).
დ jujutsu kaisen au notables! n/a ( temporarily ).
ᰍ age appearance. twenty-five ( 25 ).
ᰍ birthday. may 9th.
ᰍ nationality, race, + ethnicity. ( varies per au ), asanbosam, + senegalese and chinese.
ᰍ gender, prns, + sexuality. male (amab), he/him, + omnisexual.
ᰍ sun sign. taurus.
ᰍ MBTI. istp-a, the assertive virtuoso.
ᰍ likes. his electric guitar (delune— yes, he named her); playing the guitar is considered his biggest hobby, adoration and talent. his old doberman, yìzé, and his bloodhound babydoll. his cottage. alone time. blood oranges. ironically, loves garlic bread + garlic based dishes (especially pasta). scaring trespassers, or making his friends jump with jump-scares and shoulder-taps for a good laugh. coal black, wine red, and sometimes pink! strawberry icecream. philosophy and sacred music, especially within the selenian race. feminism. boots. silver jewelry. having his hands in aesthetically pleasing positions (pockets, behind his head while laying down,arms crossed, etc). anzhong products. people who use manners. sweethearts, but especially male sweeties (he just wants to pinch their cheeks ugh). MOTHAFUCKING INDIGO! <;3
ᰍ dislikes. random space invaders/leeches. too many home guests (or any really). yellow. stalkers/yanderes/yandere-coded people (specifically when targeted at him). pushy people. paranoia, pessimism + assumptions. difficult/slow learners (as a music teacher he struggles with younger kids that don’t process so easily). jellies and jams. the taste of vanilla. misogyny and misandry. bad hair days. getting stuff under his nails, especially when freshly done. vengeance, gossip + untrustworthiness. cooking for people, especially when there’s a lot of em’— no, even worse if they’re too picky.. bicycling. hot, summer days. being caught in the rain without a stylish umbrella. loud noises. dogs that bark too much.
･ﾟﾟ❥ quotes.
After It Rains ୨୧ “Jeez, what a mud bath. *Looks at his dogs.* Glad you two are out of your piglet puppy days heh heh. Guys? *Theyre walking away from him and he’s holding back laughter.* Was it something I said? Come ahhnn! I’m saying you liked the mud!”
About Jihane ୨୧ “The last time we spoke she foretold that my aura was yellow indefinitely. She was wrong. .. It’s red. *Looks off at something in the distance and pauses.* I’m not delusional.”
About Circe: Signature Dish ୨୧ “Nah. That’s a myth, just a little misconception. I use garlic in a lot of my dishes, especially pasta. The best kind I’ve tried thus far? Cherub Sin, easily. It’s a faultless dish. I personally believe the best noodle for any garlic and parmesan pasta is angel hair, and that dish recognizes it perfectly.”
Good Night ୨୧ “Hm.. Remember the night routine I showed you. Ice. Your. Face. Top priority, right? Alright then, and I bid you goodnight. *Nods off salute-like with two fingers and walks away.*”
oc masterlist. extended details. visualizer.
⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.
