#(loving Doom sm already)

[tonycries]

Corpse Groom - G.S.

Synopsis. Till déath do you part…or does it when a déathly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the gráve?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CÓRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mísogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ángst, major character(s) déath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of déath, kníves, poíson, reíncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hándjobs, fíngering, spítting, cúmplay, BRÉEDING, creampíes, mentions of having kids, pússydrúnk Gojo, overstím, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)

A/N. K!nktober isn’t over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3

“Mother, I refuse-”

“Nonsense, child!”

That sharp snap! of your mother’s feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom. 

You gulp when she’s tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. “The Zenin’s are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.”

The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.

In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, “Now now, why don’t we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.” But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. “Like your mother said, dear, the Zenin’s are a good family, with a uh-” Coughing nervously, “-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.”

As if that was the only thing.

But there was no use arguing. 

Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. “I’d rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.”

---

“With this hand-”

“Louder.”

“With this-”

“More passionate.”

“With this damn hand-”

“Not a threat.” The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. “Honestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.”

Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.

And her “poor baby Naoya” was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.

“Don’t be too harsh, mother.” Naoya’s smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. “After all, it’s this one’s face that’s what’s important.” 

God, if it weren’t for your parents’ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say “I do.” 

The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power. 

It wasn’t the sort of home you’d like to call your own, but then again, you didn’t have any choice in the matter. 

“My deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-” your mother’s gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. “-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?”

“Sure.” Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. “Might as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesn’t make a joke of the vows, that is.”

The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. “Do you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?” No, you want to answer, but bite back. “Zenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.”

You wince - and your features sting where they’d been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. “I apologize, I know how important these vows are, and I’ll- I’ll do better next time.”

“Good.”

With a click of Dutchess Zenin’s fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more. 

Your wedding ballad. 

Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest you’d get to a taste of it. 

It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.

“-for I will be your wine.”

Shit.

You didn’t even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup. 

And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting. 

You’re fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-” Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. “-for I will be your- your uh- wine.” 

In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoya’s smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny “As if you have any other choice.”

You knew what he was thinking.

That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way you’d been taught by your mother not to - in a way that she’d unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cup’s sake, rather than your own.

Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.

Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoya’s crisp suit. 

It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second he’s flailing frantically to wipe it off. 

“Shit- My apologies- oh, shit-” you’re gasping, but there’s no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiary’s papers from him, “Wait, it will only get worse- let me-”

Only to forget what was in your hands.

Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch. 

It’s chaos.

Then it’s silence. 

Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zenin’s lapels.

Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancé. You’re the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. “I- I cannot apologize enough…”

“You- you witch! This was on purpose, wasn’t it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.” Naoya’s screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasn’t for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. “Remember that I’m doing you a favor by marrying you-”

You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. “I shall reimburse-”

“-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.” he’s frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, “And my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-”

“I shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!”

Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, she’d be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.

Simpering, “It’s quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-”

“No no no- no, I still want to marry her-” His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, “Doesn’t matter if she’s an unfit wife, I’ll fix her up-” You’re quirking a brow, “Swear I’ll marry her and fix her up into-”

THUD!

You’re throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, “Well, I’d never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.”

And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as they’d travel to dart out of the door.

Out of the winding corridors. 

Out of the Zenin Estate. 

Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, you’re so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that you’re half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets. 

Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.

You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.

The forest, you’re realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far? 

Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors you’d definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldn’t hurt…

And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-

“And your cup will always- fuck- they probably think I’m such a fool.” you’re spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. “Fuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, should’ve shoved it up his-” 

Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gown’s pockets, “Ugh, today’s such a horrible-” Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- “This is…”

You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.

Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zenin’s would be impressed with. 

Fit for a king.

You scoff, “An unfit wife, my ass. It’s not even that difficult.”

Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. “With this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.”

Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.

“With this ring,” You’re sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. “I ask you to be mine.”

.

.

.

You don’t expect the sudden shift. 

You don’t expect the wind to pick up, you don’t expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?

But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently. 

And you could’ve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way one’s thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers. 

Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.

You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!

Shit. 

Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground. 

The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes. 

Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard. 

And if you didn’t think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.

He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close. 

A man.

Beautiful. 

Whispering, “I do.” Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. “You may now kiss the groom.”

---

You’re barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream you’ve had in your life. 

Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.

Soft, like a leaving lover.  

Even in your most feverish of dreams, you’d never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes. 

But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so. 

The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth. 

You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldn’t dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.

How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.

But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.

Just like he was right now.

“Ah!”

“Now that’s not usually the reaction I- fuck!”

He was real. So painfully real.

And clutching his face where you’d claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.

“Ouch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?” Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. “Though, I love a strong woman.”

“New arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-”

“Looks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we can’t keep her long-”

“Can I touch her? Looks so soft~”

White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that you’re being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, “She’s my wife, you curse.”

“What-” It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. “Is this a joke? Where am-”

Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasn’t. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams. 

And all dead, it hits you with a jolt. 

Yet, somehow, you’ve never felt safer in his arms. 

“Something wrong, my love?”

You pinch yourself, “I need questions- now.”

“You mean answers.” One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. He’d look ever-so-ordinary if it wasn’t for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. “Honestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?”

The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, “Shut up, Toji. I’d always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.”

“I did…” you breathe.

Shit. 

Shit shit shit- you did.

Cocking your head, you ask. “Who are you?” 

He’s rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. “Your husband, obviously?”

And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you weren’t dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zenin’s ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows. 

“So…” you let out a giggle of still disbelief. “You’re the tree-”

“Not quite but-”

“Oh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.”

“Heh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.”

“Please don’t.”

“You see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.” A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojo’s chagrin. Words dripping with taunt,  “N’ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.”

You’re dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse. 

He hums, “Here we have a pompous prince known miles around-” And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. “-fell hard and fast for a cute lil’ peasant girl much like yourself-”

“Sukuna, stop it.” Gojo grits, jaw clenched. 

“-but, alas. When dear ol’ dad the king said ‘no’, he jus’ couldn’t cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-”

You’re thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, “Meeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know what’s lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.” When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible. 

Toji’s the one by your side this time, “Poof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didn’t even want to stay here-”

“-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.” Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if it’d been opened and fixed many, many times. “And waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.”

You. 

And Gojo looks at you like he can’t look away.

Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting. 

Until you came along.

---

“HERE YE, HERE YE…FUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MAN– now for the weather…” 

“What?” your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But he’s never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, “We come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-”

“Maybe it’s a ah- slow news day?”

They’re interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of one’s throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. “We are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!” 

“Ah!” she’s gasping. Waving her hands frantically, “W-we promise we’ll find her before the wedding-”

“You better.”

“No.” Naoya Zenin’s voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But he’s not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. “I’ll be the one to find her.”

Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.

Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, “And Naoya…” She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. “Remember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.”

---

Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.

“This is where I always visited after first dying.” he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. “The view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.”

You’re startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe. 

“Beautiful.”

“What-” your eyes widen - and you don’t know whether it’s from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking. 

A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought you’d see. 

You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. “It is beautiful…”

“It is.” Gojo’s tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze. 

Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasn’t expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. He’s smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.

You’re letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - you’d never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost. 

Treasured. 

“It’s for you.”

“What?” Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojo’s held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. “Please- I can’t, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.” 

“And it is.” 

This was the firmest you’d heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. “I’ve had it for years.” You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. “Consider it a wedding gift~”

Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. “If only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I would’ve gifted you something, too.”

“Heh, you don’t have to.”

“Do too”

“Do not.”

“Do too.” You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. “I’m not going to be an unfit wife.”

There’s a second of silence. 

One.

Two.

And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoya’s to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I- hah!” he’s barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. “You never change, huh-” 

It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, “Now who said you’d ever be an ‘unfit wife’, sweetheart- Y’know I really didn’t believe Toji’s airhead comment but- oh-”

You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, you’d think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldn’t follow through underneath your mother’s watchful eye. 

Ah, but you’ve never smiled harder when you claim. “I think I won our first argument as a married couple.”

“Oh, can you do this f’me when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?” Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows. 

He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But he’s taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. “But fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- I’m kidding I’m kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.”

And you couldn’t not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where you’d remembered had a grand piano nestled away.

Gojo’s pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. “You don’t have to play, you can listen if you’d like-”

“Hey, I know this one.” you’re gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right. 

Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his. 

“You know it.” he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.

And you were never one to back down. 

“Heh, you’re not half bad-” But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojo’s half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. “Pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. “I like your enthusiasm.”

There’s a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and you’re shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold. 

“How…” he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. “How did you know that song?”

But you couldn’t tear yours away from him, “Oh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-”

His pretty lips fall slack, “Oh…”

You’re not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, “B-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.”

“That’s my girl.” Gojo winks, and you’re feeling your skin heat up.

“Anyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.”

“It was.”

Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And you’re biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, “You were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-”

To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you can’t quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, “Well, it’s just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear ol’ husband here died just before we could.” 

You’re swallowing the lead that’d seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. “And the- the bride? What happened to her?”

“I…don’t know…she probably saw I wasn’t there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.” He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adam’s apple bobbing heftily. “It’s funny- today’s a hundred years since that day.”

Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.

“You loved her?”

He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. “I love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.”

Something really hurt - and it wasn’t just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you can’t help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum. 

“Shit-” you’re hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. “Shit shit shit-” Big arms wrap around you, “Are you alright? Shit-”

The swinging pub doors slam-

“What happened?”

“The bride from upstairs-”

“She’s still here?! She already dead or what?”

More and more voices are joining in - and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that they’re making it ache more deafeningly in response. 

“Please- space.” Gojo’s stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity you’re thinking that he’d make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. “My wife needs space, and you all will leave-”

Nanami’s strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. “What she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.” Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. “With fresh air, with her kind. I don’t know what fantasy you’re playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isn’t good for her.”

“But-”

Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojo’s soft jacket for dear life. 

“But she’s my wife.”

Everyone goes quiet. 

You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojo’s the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, “N-nanamin’s right- we- I have to get you back.”

Your eyes shoot open, “What- no-”

“It’s for your own good.” Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, “Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

---

Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that he’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.

Even more so when you were by his side. 

“Oh…” And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, “How I missed the beautiful upstairs.”

You’re giggling, batting your lashes up at him. “Well, you’re not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?”

“Please.” He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. “Call me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.” 

And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, “Do we have to?”

It’s as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and he’s letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you won’t see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, “We do.” he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. “But I would…if you’d like- I would really like you to say my name just once.”

Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours. 

“My love?”

Nothing.

Gojo whirls around, “My love?”

Nothing. 

---

“Let me go let me- go-” you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didn’t give a fuck right now. “I will never- ah-”

Unceremoniously, you’re thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zenin’s gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, “I will never marry your son.” 

But it’s like you’d never spoken at all.

She’s turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. “Ah, my son-” Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. “-I see you’ve brought your wife back.”

“Of course, mother.” he’s humming. “Had to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-” At this, he’s turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. “-with another man no less- well, can’t quite call him that if he didn’t even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.”

Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. “That other man is my husband-”

“What?” 

It’s your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. “What nonsense are you speaking-” Sneaking a glance at your father, “Our daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.”

He’s just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none. 

You’re wrenching yourself away, “I’m fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-” Every eye was on you know, and oh you’ve never felt more of a spectacle. “-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-”

“That trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.”

“Of course, but the wedding…poor dear-”

“The only thing she’s good for is the money.” Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. “And maybe a free trip to the hospi-”

“The wedding will take place.” Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. “Call the officiary, and as for my future bride, I don’t care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I don’t care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.”

It’s like you’re a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him. 

It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, she’d only cryptically answered about “the dress being with this family for a long, long time.”

No one here seems to give you answers.

Or grace.

Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya. 

Your throat tightens when you’re stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue baby’s breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.

You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune you’d played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, you’re realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.

“Pssst! Walk!” Your mother’s high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.

And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.

Naoya’s smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. “Smile a little, it’s a wedding after all.”

You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, “Perhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.”

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-” Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, “You may begin first.”

He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. “Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.” 

Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will be…”

Shit.

Shit, you can’t do it. 

Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya. 

“I will- I will be-”

“How scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!”

The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didn’t care. Didn’t even feel it because you’re too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.

Or more accurately, who. 

“Satoru!” The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like he’d been waiting a hundred years for this very moment. 

“I thought you left me waiting.” he breathes.

“I would never- and- and you’re here.” 

“Mhm–”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “How did you even know where to find me?”

“Our duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-” He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. “And you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didn’t do the same?”

“You. You- What- what is the meaning of this?” Dutchess Zenin’s squawk tears through your little moment, she’s whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. “Married woman- husband? You’re dead!”

Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, “I am.”

But the ever-composed woman you’d feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you. 

“You’re dead you’re dead you’re dead-” she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. “You’re dead- my family made sure of that-”

She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, “M-made sure?”

“Yes-” She’s fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. “Shit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-”

“For dead.” he whispers. You’re too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. “But she came back to me.”

“Her? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-”

And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how he’d closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, “I don’t care- You forget she was engaged to me first.”

“She’s still my wife.” Gojo spits. 

“Not if you’re-” Naoya’s unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. “Dead!”

Schwing–!

It would have been sure to hit you. 

Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadn’t deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. “You forget I already am.” In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoya’s chest. “Let go of me and my wife, before you join me.”

It’s silence.

Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoya’s stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-

“I will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-”

Dutchess Zenin.

Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming. 

And soon enough, you’re standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors. 

But something about it tasted bitter. 

Different.

.

.

.

And all of a sudden - you see dark.

“Poison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!”

“How will the wedding go on?”

“No- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her will–shit-”

“My love---listen----hear--me?” 

In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoya’s, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. “Heheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?”

“S’Toru–” you’re whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. “Toru- am I- where am I?”

“You’re here, sweetheart.” he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you can’t help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zenin’s to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. “You’re- you’re here, with me.” He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. “Rest now, I’ll wait for you. I promise- I promise.” 

And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket you’d never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo. 

Of him 

And…you. 

“I’ll always wait for you, in life and death.”

---

“Hey- Toru–” your voice rings out in Gojo’s favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. “Do you think I’ll be an unfit wife?”

He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. “What- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?”

You’re settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since you’d introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. “Well perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-”

“Shhh!” Gojo’s bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. “You never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.” At your amused laughter, “N’ besides, doesn’t matter if we’re going to elope, I’m not letting my wife pick up a thing.”

“What- no-”

“I’ll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know you’ll love.” 

Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, “We’ll drink, we’ll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-” And another on your nose, “Then I’ll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- don’t hit royalty–! And run away to our happily ever after.” Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,“Trust me.”

“But-”

“Please?”

You’re fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. “Fine- but then-” Deftly unclasping it, “-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this I’ll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.”

“Our duet?”

“Our duet.”

He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. “I’ll protect it with my life-” Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, “Ah- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.”

“I like your enthusiasm, dummy.” you’re rolling your eyes at his antics. “But what if I’m late? The music lessons always take so long…”

“Just meet me here at our place - promise I’ll wait for you, of course. In life and death.”

You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.

You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zenin’s raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.

With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that won’t take place.

Not for a hundred years.

---

You’re waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours. 

Finally, remembering.

“Sa-Toru-” you’re gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you don’t need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. “I’m…”

“Dead.”

His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, you’re reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.

You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, “I- I really am dead.”

Gojo’s wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, “How- how do you feel, my love?”

Too-late you’re realizing that you’re splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth. 

“I think I feel…” you’re muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just can’t help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. “-that I haven’t spent enough alone-time with my husband.”

He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasn’t before, like it’d been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free. 

“Oh, my love.” Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. “We have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?”

You’re pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, “Of course, I remember- all of it, dummy-” Swatting his chest, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He’s gulping heavily, “I always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.” Cupping your cheek, “And oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didn’t even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?”

“I would have done it.” you’re pouting, brows scrunching. 

“Exactly.” 

“I waited for you, y’know. For years, until my death. No ‘deserving husband’, and no children.”

He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, “But in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-” On your nose now, “-I’ll wait for you. Always have, always will.” Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, “In life and in death.”

Gojo kisses you like he’s been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again. 

Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, he’s tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump. 

“Heh- you never change-” he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue. 

“T-Toru–” you’re managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojo’s eyes. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips. 

“You’re forgetting your promise from all those years ago–” you’re dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. “-to consummate our marriage.”

And oh.

Oh, Gojo Satoru feels he’s dying six times over already. 

He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants. 

“W-well then…” he’s rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost don’t recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! “Open that mouth f’me, my love.”

You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojo’s spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue. 

Nodding smugly when you’re taking him all, he’s swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter. 

Whispering hoarsely against your lips, “I ask you to be mine.”

“Yes-” you’re whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. “Yes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-”

And the sound of that cute lil’ nickname you’d made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojo’s entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- “O-oh, shit- shit you’re gonna be the death of me-”

But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojo’s shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? You’ll have to ask about that later.

And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy. 

“So beautiful-” his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. “So perfect–” The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. “So mine.”

As soon as you’re blinking your dazed eyes back open, you’re hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool. 

Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?

“Heh, already so needy, sweetheart?” He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, “So cute–”

But, of course, you weren’t exactly one to be pushed around, either.

With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. “O-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?”

With a snicker, it doesn’t take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch. 

“F-fuck-” he’s hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didn’t even realize what he was doing right now. “Fuck fuck fuck- honey, I-”

The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and he’s moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-

Oh. 

“Fuck, Toru.”

Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.

Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful. 

Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers. 

Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that you’re worried your fingers wouldn’t even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp. 

“Yes-” Gojo’s rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lil’ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- “Yes yes yes- c’mon- c-c’mon my wife-”

Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and he’s letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips. 

“Tighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-” Gojo’s babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. “Y-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over just—”

You’re swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively. 

“S-s’this–” you stagger out, wrist aching when you’re moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum it’s forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, “S’this good, Toru?”

And god, how dare you even ask that?

With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, you’re flinching at the nip of his sharp canines. 

“Oh, yer perfect-” he’s blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. “-so so- p-perfect- any harder n’ m’gonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.”

His words come out a burst - a beg. 

In that very heady moment he’s just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off. 

“S-so oh!” Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, “Such a pretty cunt, wearin’ such a dirty lil’ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?”

And you couldn’t dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojo’s gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.

“Who was this for?” he’s echoing. “N’ no lying to your h-husband.”

“Toru-”

“Tell me, my pretty wife.”

“It was-” you’re mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. “-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-”

Oh, but fuck - it didn’t matter who made you wear those sinful panties. 

Because it’s only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth. 

He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans. 

Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like you’ve never been kissed before. 

“H-hngh, Toru–” you’re moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. “Feels so- ah!”

And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry. 

Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside. 

It made Gojo’s thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard. 

“Mhm—” he’s purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. “Tell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck don’ squeeze me like that- ah-”

He’s just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like you’re trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.

Gojo’s biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. “Can’t- hah- can’t take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.”

And he didn’t even have to tell you - you could feel it. 

Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy. 

“Need to make you mine-” he’s gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojo’s mouth water. “Need to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-”

Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. “Please please please-”

And it’s whispered over and over like a mantra when you’re cumming - again and again, so hard that you didn’t even realize you’re reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.” He’s thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, “Spread wide- heheh, yeahhh–”

Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he can’t cum. 

Won’t cum just yet. 

Not until he’s fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles. 

And then he’s dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess he’s made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly. 

“M-mmm-” he’s rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, you’re spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. “Shit- shit, sweetheart-”

You can’t even react before he’s then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs. 

“Better let her know m’coming back for seconds later.”

You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. “Heh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.”

It’s so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie. 

Because he’s the one that’s so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and he’s just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.

Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, “Damn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckin’- ordered-”

In split-seconds, you’re being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojo’s biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.

“Toru–” you’re whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, “H-hurry up-”

“Easy there, my love.”

It’s ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojo’s resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, “Arch jus’ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-”

He’s taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers. 

You’re gasping - stunned. 

“Don’t l-look at me like that, I’ve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand n’ imagination-” 

And then Gojo’s gasping, he’s snapping his eyes open, he’s heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock. 

Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot you’d feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. “This is long overdue.”

“Hey!” you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when he’s rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. “Wha’s that for?”

“Keep it on.” Gojo nips at your earlobe.

And then he’s spitting you open - he’s pushing in. 

Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojo’s circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper. 

He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. “C’mon-c’mon c’mon c’mon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it f’me.” 

How could you not?

Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly. 

“Please-” your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojo’s neck. “Fuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-”

“Ohhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.” He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. “My beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.”

Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.

He’s hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could. 

“Wh-what do you m-mean-” They’re falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. “-b-by–”

“Awww, don’ hngh- p-push yourself, my love–” he’s simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husband’s tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, “What I mean is…”

Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. “-that m’gonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.”

This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojo’s end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard. 

Crying out, “Is- is that even possible, Toru?”

But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. “I don’t know hah! Haven’t got a fuckin’ clue- but that doesn’t mean m’not gonna fucking try–”

And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.

You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course. 

You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir. 

You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that he’s ever wanted in life and death. 

Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly. 

“Oh oh-” Gojo’s groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. “Aww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?”

No, you want to scream - but you can’t. 

Because he’s only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue. 

But Gojo wouldn’t listen in the first place, couldn’t even think of anything that didn’t stem from his achy cock pummeling into you. 

Messily, he’s swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more- 

Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight. 

“This what y-you wanted?” he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesn’t have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. “Tell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettin’ so soaked-”

“Yes-” you’re sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. “Y-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-to…”

“What?” he’s spitting. Wild. “Tell me, sweetheart- please- please-”

And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that he’s just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer. 

But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying. 

Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams it’s cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-

“Need you to f-fill me up-” you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. “-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-”

Oh, this might just be his third death ever. 

Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town. 

Over and over.

“Yeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-” he’s babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that you’re barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. “Fill you- up- ngh- so they’ll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- oh—”

Right now, Gojo didn’t give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didn’t give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest. 

Because right now you were cumming. 

That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when you’re finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good. 

And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojo’s when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders. 

Or maybe that was just him - because so was he. 

“F-finally-” Gojo’s hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. “Wan’ed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-”

His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed. 

“Yeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-”

And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words. 

Fuck. 

He’s gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, “Gonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swear–”

Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight he’s gifted to see. Humming, “In life and in death, r-remember?”

Bang! 

The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you. 

In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.

Into the meanest mating press possible.

Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojo’s swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.

The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.

And he can’t help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where he’d drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench. 

“Oh f-fuck yeah–” Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. “Gonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-can’t take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.”

You mewl when he’s licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, “-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toru–”

“Yeah-” he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, “We wanted. It’s why I didn’t reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here s’to spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, y’know?”

You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, “That’s- that’s mine, too.”

Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like he’d never let you go ever again - couldn’t bear to. 

He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to. 

“Then-” His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesn’t think he’s done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when he’d taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. “-we’re both lucky.”

It’s only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.

And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojo’s shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt. 

Messy. Drooling.

Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-

Just a tease for more. 

“Because I keep my promises, my wife.” his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. “In life and in death.”

A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE N’ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[gunslinginnhogtyin]

WHAM!

From out of nowhere, Doom drops a huge-ass ATM right in front of Butch.

"Ehehehehehe. Hey, pssst! Cowboy guy!" she whispers, as if she didn't just make a huge racket. "Wanna help me beat the shit out of this thing? Ehehehehe. You can keep the money. I've just always wanted to break open an ATM, ehehehehe."

She seems a little too excited about this. How she managed to carry it also isn't entirely clear, but the truth is she carried it on her own with the superior strength (among other abilities) the Dampening energy mixed with her soul gives her.

@the-haunted-office

// @the-haunted-office

Butch doesn’t question how or why Doomsday is carting around a big ass machine so casually but he nearly jumps out of his skin with a start when the large machine drops before him without warning! Her mischievous giggles put him at ease, recognizing just who it was roping him into some shenanigans. Shenanigans he could never find himself opposed to.

“Err, sure!” The demon blooded cowboy says, inspecting the machine with a curious smile. “I’m always a keen on makin’ somethin’ big int’ eeny bitty tiny pieces, heh! But, eh—jus’… what th’ heck is this thing?”

“Y’said…Ay-Tee-Em… wuzzat mean? An… where’s th’ money yer talkin’ ‘bout?” The sandy blonde is thoroughly confused, never having seen such a machine before in his life. Coming from a time period where they didn’t exist and all, this piece of technology was brand new to him! Though destroying it would certainly answer some questions.

[arolesbianism]

Y'know there already is such a nonexistent market for oni art in general so the fact that I wanna draw more au art is killing me. Like I draw for fun and don't need notes to be happy with a piece but also I need ppl to view my art and be curious and ask questions because while I may not desperately need approval I do desperately need excuses to gush abt the things I like

[slytherinshua]

MISSION: CHEER UP MY BOYFRIEND

genre. fluff. kinda angsty cause seunghan is sad :( warnings. kinda implied that this is abt the seunghan situation so its angsty :( but a lot of kissing <3 pairing. seunghan x fem!reader. wc. 602. request. no. a/n. im so sick and tired of this i love seunghan sm i miss him sm i cannot stand this skdjksdjks literally seeing cb stuff is breaking me im not gonna be watching any of it but ill probably be writing a lot of seunghan fics so feel free to req other briizes who miss him like me </3

“That’s it. We’re not doing this anymore.” You announced suddenly, your voice laced with a determination that Seunghan knew meant that you absolutely could not be persuaded away from whatever your mind had come up with.

He hummed a little quietly, waiting for you to continue your thought. To be honest, today was not the best day for him to match your energetic energy. He loved having fun and spending time with you, but maybe it was one particular twitter comment that stuck with him, or the meeting he had been in yesterday that kept dwelling on his mind, his mood had been down since the day started.

You didn’t continue your thought however, and instead snatched Seunghan’s phone right out of his hands. He looked up at you with confused eyes and fallen eyebrows.

“Give it back.” Seunghan pleaded. He didn’t have energy to try and wrestle you for it. Even forming words was challenging at the moment. He felt like he could break down in tears at any second, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to show you how much it was all affecting him. 

“Give it back so you can continue doom-scrolling under your hashtag? Not gonna happen, Hani.” You shook your head firmly. Taking your own phone from your back pocket, you placed both phones in the drawer of the bedside table and shut it. Seunghan watched silently, sinking further into the sheets with a frown on his face.

You brushed off your hands after completing your phone-snatching task, seemingly very pleased with yourself. Seunghan didn’t want to admit it, but seeing you with so much energy despite everything that was going wrong made him feel a little better. A tiny warm feeling in his chest started to bloom, but it wasn’t quite enough to lift his mood completely.

“Now— mission: cheer up my boyfriend, is a go!” You declared, and climbed onto the bed again. Seunghan’s lip twitched, fighting to grow into a smile, but he didn’t let it. He laid still, hands crossed over his chest until you grabbed one of his hands and pulled him closer. He didn’t fight back; he had already decided in his mind that that would just make the situation more miserable, even if he had no energy to match your cheerfulness. 

You pulled him until his head was in your lap, smiling happily that he didn’t protest. He turned so he faced up, looking at you with those dark eyes, waiting for what your next move would be. You simply let your lips curve into a smile before diving down to press a kiss to his nose.

He scrunched it up, his eyes closed from the suddenness of your movement, “What was that for?” He breathed out. He waited for the answer which you never gave, already pressing your lips to his skin again. His forehead, temple, cheek, chin, nose, lips— anywhere you could reach. It felt slightly ticklish to Seunghan, simultaneously summoning butterflies in his stomach. He couldn’t stop the laugh that surfaced when your kisses moved closer to his ear.

You smiled against his skin, “There it is. I missed your laugh so much.” You whispered, pulling back with a fond smile on your face. Seunghan’s eyes widened a little, gazing up with an even fonder look than you. He pulled himself up, one hand on your cheek as he returned your kiss. 

You smiled gleefully, the success of your cheer-up mission being more than you could have expected. All it took was a few simple kisses to bring Seunghan’s smile back— at least for a little while.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwo,, @cosmicwintr,, @chiiyuuvv,, @evalevaeva,, @lecheugo,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore

[dipperscavern]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could write about Robb’s childhood best friend/lover finding out about his betrothal between him and one of the Frey girls? Love your writing!!

i won’t lie… this one hurt my heart a bit (i’m grieving) but we persevere — i’m glad u enjoy my writing & thank you sm for the ask </3 (i am a shell of the man i once was)

robb stark x fem!reader (angst, doomed by the plot i fear)

war is unforgiving. war is harsh, it is mean, and it doesn’t change direction for anyone’s feelings. terrible things happen, terrible choices have to be made, and there’s nothing you can do about it. this is a hard lesson that you’ve had to learn, ever since lord eddard stark (or as you knew him, ned) was beheaded, and the north declared war.

it all seemed to happen so fast. one thing after another, like the stone of tragedy was rolling down the hill and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. fate has been cruel, and especially cruel to your lover, robb.

and here sits another obstacle for him to maneuver. lord walder frey.

you needed to cross at the twins. there was no other option, and it was crucial that you win the freys to your side. it was so important, that catelyn stark herself went to treat with them. she was confident that her past with lord frey would ensure her safety, and hopefully make her negotiation that much easier. you bit down on your bottom lip watching her leave, in a poor attempt to soothe your nerves.

you didn’t like this. you liked things you could control, things you could fix. this was completely out of your hands, and you found yourself praying to the gods on behalf of lord walder frey. things really have gone downhill. you spared a glance to robb, to find him already looking at you. he gives you a small nod, which you return, and you move to start heading back to the camp.

you can’t really say why this is the thing that made you so anxious, but you need to keep it together. robb needs dependability, so you did the one thing you were good at. staying busy. there was never a shortage of things to do or problems to fix, and you happened to be especially good at keeping the camp running smoothly. you had no doubt robb would find you once catelyn returned, providing you with an answer — or, with something that needed a solution.

“We’ve been granted crossing.”

you turn around, seeing robb walk in the tent you’re in. he’s got a mixed expression of relief, and the usual cloak of exhaustion & grief that doesn’t seem to leave his face much these days. there’s something else wavering underneath all of it, but you leave that discussion for later.

you exhale, nodding, and you send a silent thanks to the gods. you turn, moving to continue your organization of the maps. most were unorganized, half of them outdated, and they all could use a rewrite.

“Not without a price, I’m sure.”

your words weigh much more heavily than you intended, meant as a jest to the ever prickly walder frey. you’re messing with the scrolls, waiting for a reply. but you don’t get one. robb has hesitated.

that makes you stop your ministrations. you and robb could always talk to each other about everything. you were each others outlet, and conversation always flowed easily — even if there was grievous news, he never hesitated. you turn around, looking at him, and finally, you recognize the micro expression you saw when he first came in.

guilt.

a soft call of his name brings him out of his head, and squeezes his heart at the same time. how can he do this? can he even bring himself to look at you? he’s on autopilot, hand moving by itself to close the flaps of the tent behind him. he turns back to face you, and the expression you wear almost makes his knees buckle.

“Don’t scare me. I hate when you scare me.”

he knows. he remembers how he used to jumpscare you as children, until you told him (with tears in your eyes) not to — and he found himself wanting to heed your every wish. the next time theon scared you, it was robb you sought out. he pranked theon to make you feel better (oh, how you laughed). why does it have to be him? why him to do it? heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Lord Walder Frey has granted us crossing through the twins,” he exhales. “but not without price.”

all of your attention is on him, and for the first time, robb doesn’t relish in it.

“I must take Olyvar Frey as a squire, a knighthood is expected in due course.”

you watch him intently, waiting to listen to whatever’s made him hesitant to talk to you. doesn’t he know you’re steadfast, in it for the long run?

“Arya, when recovered, will marry one of Lord Walders sons.”

“She’ll like that.” the mere mention of arya is enough to make you smile. he finds himself returning it. you look so pretty when you smile, how can he make you do anything but? can he even?

“And…” he trails off. he’s gripping his gloves so hard his knuckles turn white. “And I must take one of Lord Walders granddaughters to wife.”

the tranquility melts off your face. your smile is nowhere to be found. he has. he did.

he can see the gears in your head turning. your expression morphs into sadness, grief. he watches you try and steady your breathing. can he reach out for you? is that his place anymore?

you’re nodding, as if you expected this as a possibility, but the tears welling up in your eyes betray you.

“We… we can cross, that’s…” you swallow down your tears. “that’s good.”

you’re picking at your hands now. you do that when you try and hold yourself together. it’s not working.

robb isn’t fairing much better. if you took your attention off of choking back your sobs, you’d see his expression is helpless. painful. he understands your pain, he feels it tenfold. when did his eyes get so wet?

“I need…” you pause as if you don’t even know. “I need you to go.”

he whispers your name. he wants you in his space. he wants you closer, and you want him away. you turn away from him, and he begins to take steps towards you without even realizing it.

“Robb, please,”

“Don’t make me…”

“I need you to leave. Please.”

all the times you’ve pulled him towards you echo in his mind — now you’re pushing him away. he’s approaching you. you have a hand on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you sense his presence, putting a hand out to the side he’s standing on. he’s slightly behind you, trying with everything he has to respect your wishes. his heart wins. his giant, aching heart.

he puts a hand on the one you have outstretched in a poor attempt to keep him away.

“Robb,” you begin, tensing up. you tense at his touch. his. “don’t.”

he’s never been a good listener. he reaches for you. at first you pull away, cries of his name spill from your mouth as your voice breaks. he doesn’t stop. you melt into him. selfishly, you find comfort in his arms. you grip him like he could disappear. but he’s not disappearing, he’s leaving.

you are touching another woman’s husband. they will share a bed. they will share a soul. he’s not yours.

his heart is, but his body never will be. and isn’t it all the same, at the end of the day?

[dayurno]

i just saw what you reposted about kevin being the problem child of doomed homoerotic relationships and nora saying that’s something kevin would do we already have solid proof of jean and basically all of aftg to prove he’s a siren to troubled men do u have any hc about how that happened? especially with kandrew i love them sm they’re truly one of my favorite aftg pairs but like in the question i always assumed it was andrew but now ik it’s kevin it almost makes it better idk?!? like a desperately devoted andrew plus being hopelessly in love with kevin and he obviously was doing it to andrew and neil but imagine if on a smaller scale it was also the rest of the foxes?? but also i can’t tell if he truly was the problem child or just extremely sheltered from and didn’t know how to interact with people so when he’s direct and earnest they fall in love on the spot  

I REALLY DONT KNOW AT ALL................... i think part of it is kevin being earnest and open about it in a way someone who hasnt been raised in a cult Wouldn't be but it's just really also. the kind of people he's doing it to.... i mean jean at the point he met kevin he'd been homeschooled with violent parents his only friend was his sister and then again jean was literally raising her on his 13 year old shoulders. and then kevin looks at him, and smiles at him, and asks to learn french, and says "i don't want to lose you". has anyone told jean that before???????? has there been anyone, ever, to say you are something worth keeping? you are something i can't lose? YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. it's not just that kevin is a problem child it's that he chooses to say these things when you have literally no way to defend yourself

and the same for andrew are you crazy........ you're worth it. DO YOU UNDERSTAND...... has anyone ever told andrew that before? you're worth the trouble? i won't give up? i'll stay right here even if you fumble and kick and scream and refuse to play with me? I MEAN IT'S SERIOUSLY SICK. it's sick. it's horrible. he's so earnest. why is he like this. no wonder andrew was fighting wars and pulling knives this is the first time someone looked him in the eye and said no matter what you do i'm Not going to give up on you. and then he didn't even when andrew was a real fucking cunt about it. should we all just explode.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

woo woo! love your writing sm, for the requesting and prompts u just put up, could u do 39, 40, 64, 65, 65 for lo'ak x metkayina!reader !! could u maybe even add some elements of a metkayina reader who indulges so much in omaticayan culture after meeting lo'ak and his family ?

#39: Doing Crimes Together, #40: Kiss for Luck, #64: Physically Supporting/Helping Someone Up, #65: Promise/Pinky Swear, #66: Whispering in Ear/Quiet Conversation

Pairing: Lo'ak/Metkayina!Gn!Reader

Warnings: short, sweet, fluff, young love, slight making out, Lo'ak positively reacts to praise lol

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: So, nonny, you put in 65 twice and I wasn't sure if you only meant to write it once or if you meant to write 66, so I just assumed and wrote 66 because I personally love that prompt and I am also a Star Wars nerd (if you get the reference, I fucking love you). Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

From the moment you met Lo'ak, Awa'atlu was doomed.

It wasn't every day two troublemakers found each other, but when you and Lo'ak established your shared love for mischief, it was silently agreed upon that you were going to become partners in crime. 

After realizing he had made a new friend among the Metkayina, Lo'ak initially thought about how he couldn't wait to tell Spider about you with the childlike hope that he would see his human friend again. You were fun and overly curious, wanting to know everything about Omatikaya culture to compare the differences with your own clan's. Lo'ak easily opened up and got more comfortable in his new home because of you, always asking him about the world he came from. He thrived in Metkayina culture, thanks to Tsireya's teachings and your enthusiasm to show him all your favorite places among the reef. Lo'ak had progressed and learned faster than even Neteyam, but not that his father realized this. Instead, Jake worried about the amount of trouble Lo'ak was getting himself into and not his son's progress in becoming Metkayina. 

But you could See Lo'ak, especially after he had bonded with Payakan. You saw how far the forest boy had come living among your people and you felt so proud and honored to be someone he trusted, dare I say someone he loved. Sure, it was a young, innocent love, but love, nevertheless. The two of you knew something was there, underneath the surface, after becoming friends so quickly after the Sully family moved to Awa'atlu. What was first misinterpreted as platonic love was quickly realized to be something more than that.

Spider made sure to tease the Hell outta Lo'ak once he realized this as well. He had joined the Sully family on the reef after being rescued from the Sky People, and after hearing so many stories, you instantly befriended the human teen as well, much to everyone's dismay. They already had to deal with you and Lo'ak as a dynamic duo, they couldn't bear a third. Luckily, you and Lo'ak were so busy showing Spider around the island that you barely had time to cause trouble, though there were nights when the three of you had been gone from home for far too long, and that alone got you in trouble. 

In return for showing him so much from your world, Lo'ak decides one of these late nights to show you a part of his. Asking Spider to cover for him, the Na'vi boy takes you into the jungle, alone, and leads you to his ikran to make introductions. At first, you were hesitant to approach this creature but under Lo'ak's presence, you felt safe, and eventually, you were comfortable enough for Lo'ak to take you flying with him. Without warning, he had his hands planted firmly on your waist and lifted you up onto the banshee's saddle, his strength startling you out of the awestruck expression you bore whilst you were petting the ikran. He smirks knowingly at the sight of your surprised appearance before forming tsaheylu with the ikran and hopping up to sit behind you, silently instructing his steed to take flight. 

You flew for a while, clinging to Lo'ak's arm as a form of security, the wind in your face and hair, making up for your breath being taken away by the view. Eventually, you felt cold and so Lo'ak had his ikran float back down, landing on the very top of a cliff's edge, overlooking a beautiful waterfall, spilling down to a small, bioluminescent lagoon located in the middle of the island. Lo'ak hops off the ikran first before helping you back down, hands back around your waist and this time, finding a more permanent home there. Sitting down on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the waterfall, Lo'ak keeps his arms wrapped around your form as the two of you talk about anything and everything, until you pause, tilting your head at him with your eyes observing his face when something had caught your eye.

He huffs a small laugh, likely nervous under such an intense gaze, "What is it?"

"I can't decide if your markings look like a tulkun or an ikran," you admit, one hand lifting up to trace the pattern of darker blue trailing down his forehead. You smile, mainly to yourself, "It is very fitting for you."

The praise definitely affected Lo'ak by the way his ears and tail twitched, a small laugh leaving your lips at the adorable sight. Lo'ak's eyes briefly widen then refocus, a fang slowly glinting in the moonlight as he forms a smirk. He ducks his head to hide away in the crook of your neck and you laugh knowing he was feeling a little flustered and embarrassed. 

His voice drops into a whisper as if there was still someone around who could hear. A quiet conversation that not even Eywa could be a part of, "You'll be facing your tsurak trial tomorrow."

"Mm hm," you hummed, reaching your hand to cup the back of his neck, "You sound worried."

"Of course not, just nervous for you, since you're confident enough on your own."

"Are you gonna be there to watch me?"

"Of course."

"Promise?" You smirk while lifting the smallest finger on your hand, offering it to him. He snorts with amusement and lifts his own hand up to yours, holding out the extra finger on his hand, his pinky finger. What he once thought was an abomination of his form was something that fascinated you, so when he explained what a pinky promise was, you were delighted at the thought or idea of it. You insisted that the pinky promise should be yours and Lo'ak's thing here on Pandora where no one else understands it other than the few Sky People residing with the Omatikaya.

He linked his pinky with your smallest finger, pulling your hand until your knuckles brushed his lips, "Promise."

You positively beam before leaning your face closer to his, smiling mischievously, "Kiss for luck?"

Lo'ak laughs, a slight tease in his voice, "Those are quite the demands."

He doesn't even finish the sentence, however, as he leans down and captures your lips with his before your responding laugh can bubble out. It was a deep kiss-- as if Lo'ak was trying to leave a lasting imprint of himself with you or vice versa. You didn't complain, closing your eyes and softly gliding your lips against his. Being a Metkayina, you were not one to be short of breath, and Lo'ak was a fast learner and was much of the same. 

Eventually, Lo'ak gently pulls away, his hands now resting on either side of your face and when he realizes this, he traces your glowing spots with his thumb as he smiles softly at you through his lashes, "Anything else, sweetheart?"

You made a point to obnoxiously think about it before giving in, shaking your head and snuggling further into the forest boy for warmth, "No. This is enough for me."

He plants another kiss on the top of your head before helping you settle more comfortably. You sit like that for a while, quietly listening to the sounds of nature all around you through one ear and his wild heartbeat with the other. 

Lo'ak tilts his head up at the sky and gently squeezes your body, "When I finish my own trials, I wanna show you my home. You'll love the Omatikaya and you have to meet my grandmother. She would definitely take you under her wing and show you more about our culture."

You smiled while closing your eyes, your mind drifting off to what you imagined was the forest where your young lover grew up in, basing your imagination on all the stories he shared with you, "Is that another promise, Ma Lo'ak?"

"Absolutely. The most important one."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I saw a picture of Lo'ak and made a little "hm. his forehead stripes look like a tulkun" and when I looked it up, I discovered I wasn't the only one who realized this. Inspo post here!

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[loonymooony]

JWCT PROMO IMAGES BREAKDOWN WHAT WHAT

WARNING POSSIBLE SPOILERS!!!

also please only take me semi-seriously because I am not mentally ok and will not be until season 2 drops or at least until I can walk again

First order of business, these signs, it’s so random they would just drop random signs on us like like this so here’s my prediction/breakdown:

oke so it looks like these are all on the ship, so everything in the first episode

• Hmm lettuce not for crew use? THE CAMPERS ARE GONNA USE IT BCS THEY ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF “This sign cannot stop be because I can’t read!” • Oh? A live dino? Wrong. That dinosaur is gonna be dead af

• Do not feed the dinosaurs? Oops. Also this insinuates that there are professionals on board BUT I AM WILLING TO BET ALL MY LIFE SAVINGS (1/3 of a penny) THAT THERE ARE NO PROFESSIONALS ON BOARD AND THE WHOLE CREW FREAKS OUT WHEN THE DINOS ESCAPE

• Hmm it seems that this sign reads “Power must remain on at all times” yeah I don’t think that’s happening, idk why just have this gut feeling that some dinos might escape

• I’ve already yapped about this one but in summary: THAT LOOKS LIKE A VERY SUSPICIOUS KENJI, SHOULD WE REPORT IT? (I feel like Dora saying that)

My beloved waifu pookie cutie patootie Brooklynn throwback 🥰🥰 good to see that after everything, it’s still you. Also her hand? arm? is tied to to the control so either someone helped her or is forcing her to work or she can do that herself while Imm over here struggling to put a bracelet on myself 😭😭

GIRL BOSS BROOKLYNN THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT I WANT TO BE LIKE I ASPIRE TO BE LIKE HER GIRLBOSS BADDY QUEEN SLAY GIRL 🥰🥰🥰 (i love her sm guys)

Trying to piece the timeline for this: looks like it’s from after the atrociraptor attack but I could be VERY wrong since there doesn’t look like much doom and gloom happened in what I presume to be Darius’ cabin. Also she has *proper* lock picks in her mouth (look for once she’s well prepared and not using a bobby pin even though bobby pins r great no hate to them) It looks to me as if she’s in his cabin stealing some DPW documents that she either left in his cabin (doubt it) or that Darius already had due to his previous job. It doesn’t really look like a friendly visit or an “I miss you visit” it just seams pretty sketchy (sorry Dinostar nation)

DLN probably stands for “Dinosaur Liberation Now” AND OMG GUYS REMEMBER WHEN RAPTOR MASK WAS LIGHTING A FIRE (basically doing arson) in the trailer? COULD THIS HAVE BEEN IT? who am I kidding it was obviously him during that moment

These two shots have the same lighting and are probably together, HOW TF IS BROOKLYNN SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THIS, IK DREAMWORKS SAID TWO MAIN CHARACTERS WOULD DIE BY THE ENF OF THE SEASON BUT THEY CANT KILL MY POOKIE OFF TWICE!! right?

All these scenes look like their from the same episode, maybe Brooklynn was trying to do something and got caught or she was being escorted to do something by her pet Red and whoever else is there

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS POSSIBLE DINOSTAR REJECTION SCENE 💔💔💔 DARIUS LOOKS SO SHOCKED AND SAD I ACTUALLY CANT I FEEL BALD FOR THE GREEN BEAN 😔😔 (im so sorry to the dinostar nation and it’s leader @livsmessydoodles)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ anygays I have reached the image limit so expect part 2 soon!!!

(@lezabeththetheodoraimposter)

[mayisgoingnuts]

About me & my blog!!

Info under the cut ⬇️

You can call me May or Roy! I am 17 years old and use she/him pronouns. Bigender and bisexual, already taken. I'm also autistic! And brazilian!!

My content will be only around Spooky Month, maybe a few posts about other shows occasionally, but Spooky Month is the main thing. With that being said, I'm also SUPER hyperfixated on Roy, so expect a lot of him on my blog cuz I just love him./p I also tend to talk a lot about my OC's, ships, make fanarts and AU's, a lot of fanon stuff.

My only things for a DNI is: If you're an asshole, if you're a proshipper or if you're ""pro-fiction"" (you know what I mean). Besides that I mainly decide myself. If you ignore this I'll just block you, easy as that 🫡

Update: As much as I am friendly to everyone with any age, I do not befriend anyone either. We can still chat through asks about art, AU's, this sort of silly stuff, but it doesn't necessarily mean we'll get any closer than that. If you are too young or too old there's chances for me to not even be comfortable talking to you. <- when this happens, I will be direct, so don't worry./gen

Just please do not insist./lh

Besides this blog I got a LOT of other sideblogs, so go follow them if you feel like it!!

RP/ASK BLOGS; CANON CHARACTERS: @townbully-hatzroy (Roy), @carmen-vanido (Carmen), @ignacios-lawn (Ignacio)

RP/ASK BLOGS; OC'S + AU's: @jjd-is-here-again (JJD), @thegang-ophatzgang (Denny, Scar and Theodor), @mama-daisy (Daisy)

OTHER: @confessions-sm (Confessions blog), @daily-roy (Daily pics of Roy), @doomed-to-try (My comfort personas and OC's), @mayocs-dumpster (OC's rambles), @besilentintheticklecloset (SFW Tickle Blog), @ask-the-wicked (Wicked Month AU Official Blog)

PLEASE BE AWARE THAT:

— Not everyday is a good day for me to answer asks; I can be feeling bad, overwhelmed or simply too focused on something else (the last one happens a lot);

— I'm too insecure to chat on DM's right away;

— I am not comfortable with people venting to me (unless we're friends);

— I am NOT, IN NO WAY wanting conflict with anyone over anything, so don't expect me to participate in any dramas, I will run away like a coward☝️;

— And finally, it's more likely for me to draw requests if I actually ask for any. Otherwise, avoid to. I won't be mad/gen, but don't expect confirmation on me doing it.

MEANING OF THE EMOJI ON MY NAME

TAGLIST

IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED ON STUFF

MY AU'S

MY OC'S

OC X CANON LIST

That's it for now! :)

Rentrys and userbox are made by @catsockpuppet !

[queervocasongtourn]

Queer Vocaloid Song Tournament: Side A, Round 1

Please listen to all songs before voting!

Shoujo Rei by mikitoP feat. Hatsune Miku

VS

Villain by Teniwoha feat. VFlower

Propaganda under the cut!

SHOUJO REI

"THE gay vocaloid song, sorry"

"very summer romance, bittersweet, soothing song"

"The ultimate toxic yuri ballad. A bright, sweet song that sounds like summer. Getting hit by a train never sounded so good."

"THE doomed yuri song"

"youve probably already gotten this one sorry but DOOMED TOXIC YURI!!!! YEAHHHHHH"

VILLAIN

"it resonated w me (a trans masculine person) so much that i cried the first time i looked at the lyrics. i love it sm"

"this HAS to be here. Please. Please . Please"

"oooooooooo transgender beam"

"Transgenderism"

"THE TRANS SONG (approved by Mizuki Akiyama)"

"So iconic they made a manga after it. Talks about gender dysphoria"

"It is THE trans song. General summary it’s about someone who was born a girl, wants to kinda be a guy ish, but also doesn’t want to be entirely masculine and still wants some femininity. Queer stuff right there."

[gem-de-lune]

Thank you so much for your positive insights on these situations.

Do you think they will decide something for seunghan within this year? I feel like if its not within a month ir two it can decrease the likelihood yk. Like I can already see the members getting on weverse one by one and getting back to their usual routine as I would call it.

Also it can be embarrassing for the company to retract their statement once again. Not to be that person but I would hate it if they launch him solo. Idek how to keep myself positive about this anymore.

Sorry for the rant though

Hey, I understand the fear and turmoil. But I think you should not see a seeming return to normalcy posting on their literal fanpage as a death sentence.

I've said this before, and I will say it again. SM will continue to place things in a way that discourages us. If you allow this to work- we will not win. Again- if you allow this to work- we will not win.

You do not need to believe in the readings to see that Riize were not happy with Seunghan leaving, nor are they trying to console OT6 or give hints to them of their own volition. It's the opposite. They have literally given US the hints and we are not catching them all.

You just need to stop allowing one cm of news that doesn't validate you to trick you into believing it's your worst nightmare. None of these negative hints are significant enough for us to bother with at this point. Everyone is just tired, worried, and scared.

Again, you do not need my readings to know what side they are on. And you guys should really hop off Twitter after getting your basic news and interacting with OT7 only because yall will doom scroll and get depressed when you see something 1% questionable.

I say this bc I care.

I know it's so hard to stay positive. But you need to make an effort to seek that out too.

To answer your other question: Timeframe is 8. 8 days or the 8th before we see a full conclusion. 2, 4, and 6 are also possible numbers.

I love you. Hang in there.

Do not forget:

RIIZE IS 7.

[hoeforhao]

hi hello so i looked through the prompts and LET ME TELL U. prompt 1 and 4 with a bratty reader and mean dom wonwoo or joshua? instant brainrot for me. also i love ur writing ehehe <3

okay this is my first one for the prompts, thank you sm for all the thirsty requests!!!😼 i initially wanted to do this with joshua but there are already three joshua requests so 😵‍💫prompt list

Being the bratty little girl you are and walking in on wonwoo playing games with his friends, when he had specially warned you several times not to ; dressed up in a tight silk skirt, straddling his lap while his friends were on a video call with him, meant landing onto his satan side - the only difference being this satan will take away all the senses in your pussy rather than your soul!!

"What did I tell you love, hmm?" wonwoo places one of his fingers under you chin harshly pushing your face up from burning holes into the floor to meey his face, his eyes which have now turned from soft kitten orbs to dark sinister ones.

You were so engrossed into the anticipation of the doom that was gonna shower on you soon, that the sudden shift of your eyes from the dark tiles to his red beads made your own ones blink in sensitivity.

"I-I'm so..sorry wonu" your last game plan to escape from his wrath was to give him those puppy eyes, but alas this time you've truly got on the last of his nerves and nothing could save you now.

"That's not the answer to my question honey" wonwoo's grip on your chin tightens, ensuring to leave his mark on there later.

Realizing that there's no running away from the fruit of your actions this time, you give in to his lordship."You t-told me not to...not to disturb you while...." you took a long pause before saying out the keyword to your answer, too long for wonwoo's liking.

"Did cat got your tongue sweetheart? Hmm? You know I don't like to wait" wonwoo drawing his nails through your tightly shut lips made a whimper escape the dark caves, making your blurt out the last word from the sudden pain.

"Gaming. You told me not to disturb you while you were gaming"

"And what did you do? The exact thing that I you from, right?" you could only nod in response while being harshly pushed to your knees onto the cold floor, your face perfectly aligning in front of his bulge.

"You do know how much I hate bratty girls, don't you love?" wonwoo's hands now shift from your shoulders to the drawstrings of his sweats, untying them in one quick swish and pushing the grey piece of clothing along with his boxers down his waist ; his painfully hard cock springing up against his stomach in the process.

No matter how many times you've see his cock, no matter how many times you've jumped on the same, blew him off, you're still taken aback everytime at the beauty of his length - pink veins running down the tip to his balls and connecting them with those on his abs, perfectly rounded mushroom head...

“This cock isn’t going to suck itself” wonwoo's sudden remark brings you out of the trance of admiring your boyfriend's perfect dick, as he firmly grabs onto a bunch of your hair, instantly pushing your mouth onto his throbbing length.

Getting what your lips have been wanting since the very time you saw him in those gray sweatpants, you waste no time in moving your mouth up and down his girth, as if the sole purpose of your cavity was to fill his cock into and give him the most tantalizing head of his life.

Your tongue decides to be all bratty again as you momentarily take his cock out of your mouth to lick the precum leaking down his tip, while you hand ghosts above his balls, giving them a tight squeeze in the way.

Wonwoo's groans grow impatient as he has finally had enough of your shenanigans and decides to not let you loose anymore. He yanks your hair back again, forcing his entire length into your mouth, and holding you in place constantly with the grip on your head, leaving only the minimum amount of space required for you to bob up and down his cock.

"F-fuck fuck fuck such a slutty mouth, taking...taking me all in into its warmth" his hold on your scrap stiffens as you are now left incompetent to speak, his tip hitting the absolute back end of your throat, making you gag for some sort of air into your lungs.

Your movements begin to slump as you feel wonwoo start twitching inside your mouth, his hand on your hair slowly relieving itself, while the veins on his cock go from strained to a relaxed state. And with that without a single warning, he shoots all his load into your cavity, some of it already making its way down your throat and the rest of it dripping down onto your lap.

"So fuckin pretty" wonwoo opens his eyes to now look at the picture he has painted in front of him - the cum stained face of his bratty girlfriend, dried out tears still pooling at the corner of her eyes while his juices leaked down her maroon lips.

"You came, but what about me wonu?" your panties were leaking wet from your own slick, pussy throbbing from the heat building up inside your stomach, wanting to be filled up by the warmth of wonwoo's cock.

“If you want to cum you have to beg, love” wonwoo's hands land on your shoulders again to pick you up from the praying position of worshipping his dick, and pushing you onto the bed, buckling up for the long night that's about to ensure now.

[pyrodolls]

gorgeous (havik x gn! reader)

warnings: slight gore i suppose? and spoilers for mk1’s story mode but if ur reading this i’m sure you already know.

a/n: i still dont know how tumblr works but i love havik sm so i just wanna keep writing him. anyways this is based off of how i was listening to gorgeous by taylor swift and thought of havik bc he may look like a burnt rotisserie chicken but HE IS VERY GORGEOUS TO ME!!

you always had a crush on havik. you originally met through quan chi, since you were both working with him. but you decided to not pursue havik, since he seemed very keen on his journey to liberation. you figured he wasn’t looking for a relationship, especially because he probably isn’t the type of guy to commit to one.

besides, you had some problems of your own to deal with. for example, even though you were working with him, you still found quan chi to be a pain in the ass. he was always asking you to do meaningless chores and missions, while giving the harder ones to your other allies like sareena, darrius, and nitara. you were tired of being treated like you were weak.

“quan chi.” you called out from behind him.

“oh, (y/n). i’m assuming you have finished scouting the area.” he said, as you were both at the ying fortress. you were there with quan chi, aiding him and shang tsung as they were working on their soul stealers. quan chi had ordered you to keep watch outside the fortress along with nitara and sareena. they apparently had a run-in with sub-zero, scorpion, and smoke.

“i have. sareena and nitara ran into a few intruders recently.” you informed.

quan chi furrowed his eyebrows. “intruders? were they sent by liu kang?”

you nodded. “most likely. nitara and sareena could not stop them. they are probably already inside as i speak.”

“stay here. keep watch while i apprehend our little intruders.” he growled.

you rolled your eyes. “i will not stay here. i’ll apprehend them myself, quan chi.”

then, you ran inside the fortress before he could argue with you. you must prove yourself useful, so quan chi will cease to underestimate your kombat.

you ran into the fortress and found a swarm of guards running around the area led by sub-zero himself and shang tsung.

“what is the meaning of this, shang tsung? isn’t sub-zero working for liu kang?” you questioned.

sub-zero scoffed. “i refuse to be associated with liu kang anymore. while working with him, the lin kuei were doomed to mediocrity. now, we will achieve greatness. unfortunately, kuai liang does not understand the lin kuei’s potential. we must not let him escape.”

you nodded, and went on your way to help find kuai liang. if you were the one to apprehend a member of the lin kuei, you would be well respected. you were determined to find him.

until you ran into havik and darrius. and they had just fought kuai liang.

unfortunately, it looked like havik’s face didn’t exactly survive the wrath of scorpion.

“havik..?” you whispered, seeing half of his face gone. it was flesh instead of his regular, beautiful skin and lips.

havik’s expression was of rage and exhaustion from his defeat. until he saw you, and his face softened. he went quiet, not replying to you and just looking down.

“what happened?” you asked, kneeling down to his side. “did scorpion do that to you?”

“yes. he shoved my face in there.” he spat, pointing at a pot of some kind of burning liquid.

“i see..” you sighed. “that must’ve hurt. aren’t you going to heal it?”

havik paused, and thought about your question. he stood up and looked into a reflective surface nearby, analyzing his new face.

“i suppose i won’t. i can use it as a symbol of chaos.” he claimed, proud of his new revelation. he looked down to your slightly disappointed face and scoffed. “is there a problem with that?”

“i mean, no, not at all. in fact, i think you still look… gorgeous.” you muttered.

havik raised an eyebrow. “still? gorgeous?”

you paused, deciding whether you can pretend you misspoke or be honest.

“yeah.. i thought you looked great when you still had your face. and now, i think you still look good. especially because of how proud you are of your new appearance. that is very honorable.” you admitted.

havik chuckled. “i see. i appreciate your compliments. i do believe my scars are a memorabilia of my past struggles and reminders of the kombat i have faced. my wounds are a sign that i honorably fight for liberation, and i will never surrender to anyone or give up, no matter how painful the journey may be.” he ranted.

you listened intently to his rant, genuinely interested in what he had to say. you didn’t fully agree to some of the things he does, but you overall sympathize with his struggles and understand that his anger and drive are because of his rough past. you wanted to help him, and free him of his pain. even if you disagree with some of his methods, you’ll be there for him.

“you are one of the only people to truly understand me. i appreciate your intelligence.” havik complimented. “would you like to join me in my journey? i could use your skills and i can provide you safe haven from harm. however, you must agree to accept chaos.”

you thought about his offer for a moment. if you decided to directly work with havik, you’ll most likely never go back to your regular life. you will make enemies that you don’t want. you realized he will probably be your only company for a while.

“i will join you.” you replied.

and so, you both worked together to spread chaos and bless outworld with anarchy. havik was very pleased with your efforts and how you wouldn’t hesitate to help aid him. he ended up confessing his feelings for you, and you were both pretty happy together. he was overprotective over you and vowed to keep you safe from harm. you were supportive and tried to help him heal from his past.

overall, havik loved you. even though he never imagined himself feeling so devoted to another being, he was grateful that you were the hope and light that kept him sane throughout his life full of blood, sweat, and tears. with you by his side, and slowly succeeding in freeing his people in seido, havik was very content with his life.

[yeahspider]

SLIDE

VE’s note - i love pathetic jisung sm . like what a brainrot . not proofread ofc . abrupt ending bc i’m incapable of anything else . nsfw smut mdni . also my asks are open for requests so stop by !

jisung hasn’t felt this pathetic in his life . how can he not even last two days without your mouth wrapped around his cock . they’ve been on tour for two days and he already wants to run home to you . you had the discussion before he left and he knew it was going to be hard but he was determined to not pump his cock into his hand . he was stronger than that surely . well at least he was before you sent him that pic . it wasn’t even anything inherently sexual . just a standard outfit of the day pic . but as soon as he saw how your lips formed into a smile on your face he knew he was doomed . so that’s why he’s here hiding in a random closet backstage as he pumps his cock furiously to the pic of you smiling . he’s supposed to be on stage in less than five minutes . he’s so desperate to cum yet everytime he hears a footstep outside the door he stops and unintentionally prolongs it . anyone could walk in on him with his hands down his pants and phone in his hand and it wouldn’t be hard to guess what he was doing . as soon as he was thinking about giving up his phone started ringing . it was you . he quickly answered and as soon as he heard you say a causal hello he let out a moan , he could feel his cock twitch at your voice .

oh sungie are you having some fun without me ? you’re supposed to call me if you need help . jisung could basically hear the frown on your face . he muttered an apology that sounded more like a bed.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to swear it’s just i couldn’t help it i just started thinking about you and it just happened-“ he stopped talking when he heard you laugh through the line . he couldn’t even feel embarrassed because of how desperate he was .

do you want my help bunny ? the line went silent as he nodded and then realized you couldn’t see so he whimpered out a yes . go ahead and touch yourself for me and make sure i can hear you.

jisung quickly pumped his cock at your command . your soft commands encouraging him to go faster . you both knew he wouldn’t last long with the way his moans became more frequent . it’s okay sungie you can cum whenever you want .

and he does with a strangles groan . he swears he’s never cum so hard in his life . jisung mutters his thanks while you whisper soothing swords into his ear. he barely has time to gather himself before someone knocked on the door.

“aye it’s time to go on stage let’s go” .

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

empire of death thoughts+reactions part 1

previously onnnn (super short sdlkfj)

HOP ON, COWBOY

sdlkjs morris a literal 13 year old having guns on his lil' scooter thing.is UNIT ok.

omg even the vlinx TOT

the birds will sings again!!!!!!

dust of death mmm delicious alliteration

"im sorry there's nothing we can do. we're dead" vibes

loving this action sequence ngl

WATCHA TALKING ABOUT

maybe is not [insert character]. maybe mrs flood is just an old lady who is Like This.

"my true name" "ur true maker" whats her true maker if not RTD!!! / clowning

"we've got worse problems" that's gonna come back to bite him skdfljdskl

does anyone remember the clara / 1 paintdoktahwho comic "dont take that one. take the tv"

thats what im thinking ot

(askdjlad UGH my iplayer stopped so i refreshed and while skipping to the place i think i spoiled my self for susan ?? TOT sutpid internet stupid preview skipping thumbnail function grrrr) im not a tardis smasher in general but the memory tardis….. would. maybe

"remember it harder" i would be a useless companion here tbh. memory of a goldfish.i would doom the earth.

IT'S A TV SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT'S TELLING THE STORY OF YOUR LIFE

I MADE A JIGSAW OF YOUR HISTORY SDKLFJSLKJF

AAAAAGHHH

sdflkdfj sutekh spining in the vortex. 2 cute

the temple……….. tardis as the thing in the hill meta INTENSIFIES

"so many secrest" um TIMELESS CHILD FUGITIVE MEMORIES FOBWATCH????

oh ok i jut got spoiled for the clip OF susan sdlkfjdskl FALSE ALARM FOLKS

"never yours again, never"

my angels of death………………..

"i find that good" i feel they did this same exact phrasing once for a "death is beautiful" monster like this but i cant remember which story?

also, flux? flux anyone? 13 vs entropy itself?

"i am an extinction event" OOF

(oh this clicks on why the doctor clings sm to living / immortality despite how much it hurts)

memory is a time machine TOT idk but that Hits Harder

"sutes" dlkjfslfk cute

"and doesnt it feel good?" holy shit

yayy mel's not dead yet

MEL GRABBING SIX'S COAT IM FINEIM FINE IM FINE

(idk why but that's what's made me cry slkfjsd)

"ruby roo" sdkljsfd

lasdkj if a regular tardis is 6 people driven then a memory tardis is probably meant to be piloted by every single doctor and companion ever

"meleanie b" TOT (doctor trait unlocked: when 15 is stressed he intensifies on the cutsey nicknames)

CHEKOV'S INGELLITEN GLOVE !!!!! damn i thought for a second about putting that on my bingo card but didnt skldfj

i like that the subtext of "when disaster comes, he's there" / "the tardis is an ommen of death" & "he has one constant companion… death" isn't literally being stated as being "sutekh did it lol" lol cause that would feel a lil cheap. i think instead rtd took a smarter choices of keeping that subtext, but keeping it that stricly speaking what sutekh did was just putting the susan copies everywhere.

73 yards……………

omg wait so in a memory tardis u can remmeber anything to existence………….. what if heiimagines susan at the end

(MOLECULAR BOND ROGUE CALL BACK?)

73 yards…………. HOW DO U KNOW THAT. I JUST DO. SHE'S JUST GOOD AT CONVERTING UNITS DAMN. LET RUBY BE GOOD AT UNIT CONVERSIONS DOCTOR.

ohh wait so this connects perception filters and 73 yards. put on a pin on that (and presumably……. taking down the perception filter is what happened re: ruby? that's why people ran away? people saw beyond her perception filter to the elderitch abomination bellow?)

"you've landed on earth a 100th times" is probably a huuude understimation lol

"she was reborn stronger each time. this monumental figure" dr. who as a cultural institution meta

shots outside the tardis my beloved

1999….. the movie... 2005 …. obvious. 1066 was the fire of london right? with 5?

this is rlly working for me ngl. dr who is all about death meta but it's literal but it's not

and a lso the whole. when u are a time traveler everyone is already dead. we must be like ghosts to u . etc etc

telos… THE OOD SPHERE noooo

mel being like "well…. at least 1% of the universe is fine. that's all right then" .

this |5 "it's all my fault" beat feels a lil' weird until u remember [all the traumas] / flux trauma and then it's like yeah i getchu doc i too take everything bad that happens as proof that it is my fault even tho, factually, it makes no sense as a reaction. trauma/depression girlies united.

THE SUN IS DEAD. rip 42's sun.

omg thank u sutekh for finally fixing that over-blue colorization in the unit set. not all heroes wear capes tbh.

aaaand the end.

fade to black.

doctor who is done! we can all go home and become trekkies everybody. congrats!

[yanderes-galore]

if you still do TF2/Team Fortress 2, can you make a contitutation of you medic x angel! reader fic where he kidnaps them?? i love that fic sm and thank you!! if you do it :3

I just ended up doing a little weird poetic concept for the aftermath, I hope you like it. It wasn't really meant to have a continuation.

Fic this continues here I think

Yandere! BLU Medic with Angel! Darling Continuation

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Worship yandere, Mentions of the Christian religion, Sinning/Vague implications of intimacy through wording, Manipulation, Descent into madness on Darling's part, Darling gives up on humanity, Probably could be seen as a metaphor, Mature Themes, Forced relationship.

Ah yes, the tale of a mortal man on the verge of death only to be saved by one of God's divine messengers.

However the tale ends in the mortal man stealing away the beautiful wings of the angel in order to keep them with him.

He couldn't possibly allow his divine savior to leave, could he?

After all, you saved his life….

Was he meant to just let you go?

You, the poor angel in question, didn't judge the BLU Medic's character right.

Sure, he is no sadist like his RED counterpart…

But he is selfish, selfish enough to steal your purity away.

Without your wings, you're no different than him.

Are you even an angel anymore?

You've been forced into mortality…  completely at his mercy.

Yet like you nursed him back to health, he nurses you back to health.

Your “surgery” is a success…

To you it feels like mutilation.

Medic is over the moon when he claims you as his own.

He fawns over you just as he did when you had wings.

You'd think the removal of your wings would ruin your beauty in his eyes.

No… even when tarnished he still sees you as a holy being.

A being he prays will forgive him.

You're dressed in elegant clothes and your wounds are monitored.

Even now he worships you as his savior, his beautiful angel who has fallen from grace by his hands.

Medic already knows he will be unforgiven, both by you and God.

He's selfish, a man not meant to keep something so beautiful all to himself.

Yet he's done it anyway to satiate his desires.

Every hug and kiss to your skin burns.

He is a mortal man but acts like a demon.

A human enveloped by sin, one you saved.

By saving him… were you doomed from the start?

Would you have been cast out of Heaven's Gates anyways for your miscalculation?

You don't know… and why should you care about what could've been?

All that you should care about is the fact you've been grounded.

Medic's praises and touches don't feel nice.

It just feels like he's corrupting you more and more with his twisted form of love.

Medic wants a relationship he can not have.

Not after what he's done anyways.

You pitied Medic when you found him, this is how you're repaid?

Even as he cares for you, tells you he loves you, and treats you like a loved one… you're not swayed.

He's forced you to be a human, ripped from your divinity by knocking you out and stealing your wings.

What does he do afterwards?

He frames them on the wall like a trophy as he lays you both to bed.

The longer you're with him, the more you feel sin corrupt you.

Soon… you find yourself half giving into him.

You pretend to be his little spouse, his little pet…

A slave to him and his desires.

You begin to hate humanity.

Are they all little sinners?

All just waiting to pull something like you out of the sky to corrupt and lock away?

Do all of them, deep down, want to corrupt others like you for themselves? Inside and out?

God would've told you no.

But as this mortal, the one who stole you from your home after you showed mercy and kindness, covers you in corruption…

You begin to doubt God's teachings.

The thought sends you into denial, it makes you feel sick.

Yet… as you look at Medic…

As you stare into his lustful loving eyes and feel his burning comforting touch…

The thought echoes in your mind.

Medic is a sinner… and now you are too.