#HI OKAY IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!
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hello! i'd like to request a pair if possible! i'd like spelldon and holt hyde from monster high (i can't send links, but monster high has a wiki if u need it!). if you don't accept multiples, feel free to ignore ^^
Hold the door!! someone’s coming in!
name(s) - Spelldon , Sawyer , Spencer , Grayson , Preston
pronouns - he / they / it / magi / adors / zom / vamp / bite
gender(s) - male , magiloveboy , vampfreak
orientations - achillean , gay , polyamorous
role(s) - love holder , posier ,
species - i don't even know the wiki didn't tell me
source(s) - Spelldon , Monster high.
emoji(s) - 🪄 , 🎩 , ⚠️
faceclaims -
( 1 - 2 - 3 )
name(s) - Holt , Aodh , Afi , Cole , Ashbell , Apollo
pronouns - he / flame / music / bolt / fire / kindle /
gender(s) - male , fiergender , firegender , ragefiric , pyrofluid , musicsplodic , musicgender
orientations - bisexual heavy fem lean , polyamorous
role(s) - impulsivity holder , anger holder , battery , energetic alter
species - umm.... fire...??
source(s) - Holt Hyde , Monster high.
emoji(s) - 🔥 , 🧯, 🎧 , 🕶️
faceclaims -
( 1 - 2 - 3 )
#✦ 一 ding!#✦ 一 headmate pack#✦ 一 mod 🌈#✦ 一 mod 🩹#HI OKAY IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!#HALLOWEEN HAD US HELD UP!!#BUT THIS WAS FUN!!#WE DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT MONSTER HIGH BUT WE BALL#:3c#id pack#headmate pack#headmate creation#build a headmate#alter packs#alter creation#build an alter
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writing about my elden ring oc has been my comfort thing for the last two years but since this dlc i genuinely can’t bring myself to enjoy it anymore. miquella, the haligtree and even malenia feel so different to me now
#i can’t even daydream about it at work it’s that bad#miquella especially has been ruined for me i don’t think there’s any coming back from that#like i said before i’m okay with the direction his story took#i’m okay with everything apart from the dumb consort bs#but learning the caelid war happened because radahn had to die to get resurrected as his husbando is fucking wild#it just makes them all feel so lame i’m sorry#the fact that no one predicted any of this too despite this community have the most thorough lore theorists i’ve ever seen#the fandom coming up with far better theories for this and then all we get is a 17 yrs yaoi fanfic type ending#prime man being reduced to nothing but a victim and miq is some kind of predator#while malenia is the enabler#holy shit this sucks#this might actually be the death of elden ring for me i just can’t really enjoy it anymore#i mean maybe that’s a good thing i’ve been to obsessed with this game for too long#pls don’t come at me telling me im wrong or whatever. this is how i feel and maybe over time things will change#but right now i’m just struggling to appreciate these characters the same way i used to
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🦴
#blackened bones au just got so wild y'all#mr 'whats a king to a god whats a god to a nonbeliever' jaehaerys targaryen over there who is not king btw#and is instead like a 12 year old hand of the king (sorry tywin) because his oldest brother has a huge case of 'weird flex but okay'#and his extra early elopement and subsequent earlt creation of the doctrine for Reasons#made aegon go you have been promoted u are now one of my elite employees!! took him from cupbearer to hand. as one does#but anyway aegon mr black maegor black magic baby electric boogaloo was unable to produce more than one pregnancy in his wife lol#because the black magic is FUCKED for REASONS (maegor skewed it gay. also for reasons. namely fucking aenys reasons)#and now he has no (male) heir and HE wants to make aerea his heir bc aegon is the chad of this family. also visenya got to him young#rhaena the lesbian is on board for obvious reasons but alyssa is decidedly Not & either is the council bc like. the targs have been wilding#in one decade they balerioned the starry sept and vhagared the sept of remembrance killing like. most of the high ranking sevenists lmao.#lol even. plus jae and aly also eloped cause ofc they did the council was trying to marry her to a hightower. oh and also the doctrine#been a bit of a decade and all that happened in just 9 years. also viserys and lysarra (oc first maegor/aenys daughter) got married#which was the first post doctrine marriage. they're the two crazies. she has a mini balerion. went wonderfully as im sure you can imagine#anyway the targs need to CHILL. give the realm a breather. NOT CHANGE THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF INHERITANCE PRECEDENT.#aegon the chad is not helping them do that. so alyssa uses her big brain. & she's like well aegon is a black magic baby (thnx maegor)#and he's king. so why not get him a Surrogate and make him an heir. for Reasons it can't be any of his fellow maegor black magic babies#(black magic babies can't have kids with each other bc they're barely fertile on their own lol) and his remaining options are aly & vaella#both of whom are out bc they're a) 14 and 11 respectively and also b) married and a future nun. shit happens.#viserys is a no cuz lysarra is Crazy and aegon knows it and respects it. that leaves jaehaerys 😁 the good dutiful fourth son 😁#the og machiavellian propaganda maker 😁 who will do Anything to get what he wants 😁 esp for the good of his house and the Realm 😁#long story short jaehaerys the nonbeliever to hardcore sevenist loser gets valyrian magic gender fuckery & gives birth to the heir <3#a delight to negotiate with alysanne as im sure you understand. truly didn't almost end the marriage he rewrote the law and religion for#shit happens <3 long live the third prince of dragonstone aerys targaryen who is the second shipname baby future king#(the first was aenys. aegon = ae rhaenys = nys. now aegon the uncrowned that WAS crowned named his heir aegon = ae and jaehaerys = rys)#(bc naming his first daughter after aerea and his second after rhaena wasn't enough evidently. he is a crazy person)#(he names the twin [they're twins it is the worst year of jaehaerys's LIFE think renesmee & bella] alystair. for alysanne.)#(he is a crazy person x2.)#and that's on today's episode of:#blackened bones au
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made and destroyed a friendship at work today
#significant time passes between each row of panels btw. this took place over 40 minutes#his dad was getting more and more upset that he was dragging me around instead#sorry bud im his dad now#not pictured: me trying to put the shapes on my head and him truly believing i didn't understand his instructions#and so patiently explaining again that i need to *hand* them to him#''so.... not on my head? just in your hands?''#''YES'' [holds out lil baby hands]#''ohh okay i get it now'' [puts it on my head]#''NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!''#this was a chill afternoon activity#after all of the fire related nonsense in the morning#my candle on a stick kept going out on the way to the hydrogen so i ended up standing waaaaaaay too close#when it detonated lol#THEN when i went to light the first rocket i discover somebody bought small matches!#short matches! like an inch long i swear. teeny tiny matches#and i had already fumbled several things i didn't have time to go get other matches mid show so i was lik#''everyone think fire resistant thoughts for me real quick!!'' and just ran my hands over the gas flame bc yknow#[aragorn voice] for the bit#AND THEN MY FIRE PISTON WOULDN'T IGNITE#i was making the little kid's face from this comic at that point i swear#coworker snuck in to watch the show and watched my soul leave my body instead#blease. a smidge of energy. god knows i put enough into these damn shows lol
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[ID: fake discord screenshots between the tmnt boys. The chat reads as follows, with their discord nicknames in parentheses:
Mikey (Micheal with a B): If yall don't knock it off right now
Leo (That Bitch): I'd Love to go eat my cold soup in peace, if SOMEONE would stop attacking me for it!!
Donnie (The Funny One): You're killing me you're killing your brother Leon cereal is Not A Soup how many times do we have to go over this
Leo changes his name to "Cold Soup Truther"
Leo (Cold Soup Truther): Mad because you dont have cold soup, arent you? ;]
Raph sends a screenshot from the sonic realtime fandub of Eggman saying "what are you two FUCKING talking about"
Mikey's name changes to "Doctor Delicate Touch"
Mikey (Doctor Delicate Touch): Alright that's it
Leo (Cold Soup Truther): Oops
Raph (Raph): Oh no
Donnie (The Funny One): Wait Mikey we can talk about this
End ID]
Laid awake for several hours thinking about wanting to make this joke the other day
Bonus: the aftermath
[ID: a simplistic drawing of the turtles. Mikey runs at high speed chasing Donnie and Leo, Raph lays behind him flat on the floor with x's for eyes. There are action lines emanating out from where Donnie and Leo are running to. End ID]
#rottmnt#never wrote this kind of id before but i did my best#anyway hi i love them#and the thought of mikey using dr delicate touch as a threat is very funny to me do Not mess with him#also another fun fact donnies discord pfp is a picture i took and edited of my high school AP calc shirt#its the maclaurin polynomial :]#i wanted to make raph and leos icons something funny too but i didnt have any ideas so its just pictures of them sorry guys#id spent too much time and brain power on this anyway#im putting this in my art tag since its something i made#tal.draws#and i mean technically i did draw that last picture even though its scribbly so it counts#also i have no stake in the cereal soup debate i just wanted to also make cold soup jokes#and I think donnie would be pedantic about it (i say this with love) and leo would antagonize him about it#<- a statement applica to many situations#if id had rhe energy i wouldve edited the time sent to be a funnier time of day but again i spent too long on this#okay im done talking in the tags mow promise
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Dick halted before passing the living room entrance, taken aback by the scene he witnessed. When he left - and it's worth noting, only for a minute or two - his father and his fiance sat as far away from each other as sofas and armchairs arrangement allowed it. They weren't exactly engaged in even moderately polite conversation but /at least/ they weren't arguing as well. It wasn't that bad. Now although...
To be completely honest, Dick wasn't sure what happened. They were still sitting in the same places, still not talking, and still not even looking at each other. The atmosphere shifted a little, that was one of the signs that he missed something possibly important. There were more signs, probably way more giving, such as frozen meat Bruce held to the left side of his face, or smeared blood under Slade's nose and his beard that looked like he tried to wipe it quickly.
Of course.
"The fuck?" he asked pointedly looking at Alfred, the picture of elegance and composure, standing straight in the corner of the room.
"Master Bruce and Mister Wilson had a...disagreement" butler explained throwing one of his disapproving looks their way.
Of fucking course.
"It was quickly resolved" to that, Dick noted, Alfred seemed to look a little too self-satisfied "and I proposed something cold to cool gentlemen down. And for the damage, obviously. Mister Wilson refused."
Bruce only murmured something unhappily but Slade was rather stubborn about getting on Alfred's bad side, like refusing his polite act of mercy wasn't enough. "I'll heal in an hour, no need for that sh-"
It's going to be a long evening.
Anon this is BRILLIANT!! Amazing writing too!! Ahhh its so good!!
Bruce and Slade are trying their best to not fight each other but only when Dick is in the same room 😂 They don't even mind Alfred there lmao I love it, I wonder what they were thinking when they started that fight - they had to know that Dick will be back soon 🤣 It's "We'll act like nothing happened, maybe he won't notice" kinda thing 😂💕💕 amazing
I love the idea so much, let me add a bit to that 👀
"I swear to God, you are worse than children." Dick let a sigh escape his lips as he sat down on the sofa, right in the middle of the room. That way he was sitting evenly in between both Bruce and Slade, and they both looked conflicted whether to move closer to him or stay where they are, as far away from the other man as possible.
"He started it." Bruce complained under his breath and Dick sent him a pointed look.
"I really don't care who started, Bruce. And it's not like it matters anyway, you both are way too old to act like this."
Slade crossed his arms over his chest with a mumbled complain and leaned back against the armchair he was sitting on. Dick glanced at the blood still smeared over his face and stood up again with another sigh.
"I can't believe you two, I literally left for three minutes!"
"A lot can happen in that time."
"Yeah, I can see that." Dick remarked, bitter. "Fighting, making a mess of yourselves-"
He reached for a tissue to gently clean up Slade's face. The blood stopped running already thanks to the man's healing factor but his nose still was fractured if not broken from the punch. It would take a while to heal and while Slade got way more serious injuries on daily basis, it still must've hurt like hell.
Dick looked down at the button-down shirt Slade was wearing, at a few drops of blood that got on it and let a small pout enter his face.
"My favorite shirt too..." he lamented quietly.
Bruce looked away. Slade shifted a bit in his place, uncomfortable. Good, they should feel bad about it!
"I can wash it out, it's just some blood." Slade assured him with a half-shrug. His rough fingers found Dick's wrist and squeezed gently. "Or I can buy another one like this."
"I don't want you to buy another stupid shirt, I want you both to stop fighting!"
"Dick-"
"Little bird-"
"No! Shut up, I don't want to hear it!" Dick snapped, taking a step back to glare at both of them. "You're both important to me and I'm so fed up with all your stupid fighting! You are going to start acting like adults and learn how to live around each other without trying to kill each other!"
Bruce ran his hand down his face, suddenly looking tired.
"You know it's not that easy, chum."
"It is! You're my dad and Slade is my fiance, I'm not going to give up on either of you because you don't like each other!"
"It's Deathstroke, Dick! This has nothing to do with disliking, this man killed thousands-"
"I love it when you're calling me your fiance." Slade hummed with an easy smirk as if Bruce didn't speak at all. He sent Bruce a look over Dick's shoulder and enjoyed the way Wayne tensed. "Can't wait until we change it to 'husband' though."
Bruce clenched his jaw with so much force that Dick worried about his teeth. He hated being reminded that Deathstroke would soon become a part of his family and Slade knew it far too well.
"You're not helping, Slade!" Dick hissed.
Slade looked back to him and pressed his lips to Dick's wrist before pulling him onto his laps. Bruce leapt up from his place.
"Not really trying to."
Dick screamed.
#anon#sladick#dickstroke#thank you again anon!!#its great#hope you don't mind me adding to it 👉👈#i never know if its okay but i couldnt stop myself its so good!!#i love it so much#my reply#my writing#dad bruce#slade feels kinda bad but he's too much of an asshole to admit it#and he likes annoying bruce okay#serves him right after messing up his contracts all the time#he'll make it up to dick later#im sure bruce and slade will make up one day#alfred quietly watching the drama to share it later with jason#oh and sorry it took me so long to reply anon!! I'll be better#im just sick rn and had a few things to take care of so didnt have much time earlier#but i got really happy when i got your ask!!#love you#you really made my day!
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my artfight attacks for this year! thank you to everyone who drew my ocs =]
#artfight#team werewolves#digital art#art#artists on tumblr#ocs#sorry i've been gone so long! i've been busy in general but also artfight took up most of my art brain time :)#if it helps im thinking of getting back to my anastasia au soon... very fun#SIGH... its a shame i did not get to do as many as i would have liked BUT PERHAPS MAYBE NEXT YEAR!!!!#i think the last one (the very first one here) is my favorite i had a lot of fun doing that one#i debated tagging everyone i attacked but there are repeats and i think two of them don't have tumblrs so#TECHNICALLY i attacked briar the most. hi briar insert hand heart emoji HEJKSSHJSDKHDJSK#if youre interested you can find me on artfight @ mitchmotch as well. insert thumbs up emoji#okay thats it i believe.. C U L8R!
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@scrtilegii said : ' you and I are not children, my dear Doctor, ' songstress speaks, the delicate facade no longer donned before him. she is, after all, a performer, truth known to the both of them. hence the need for pretense is no longer there. ' help me achieve my ultimate wish of creating a dream unchained. in return, I shall help you achieve your own goals. a fair deal, would you not agree? ' ( you know who Gem just fuel my insanity mwah mwah I blow you kiss 😘 )
⸻ a deal of this magnitude , is a bedevilling arrangement , leashing the tempted to only one choice — to agree. but veritas is not like the typical target , impressionable to all degrees , and he certainly can ward the seraphim , with his barricade enabling him liberation from susceptibility. however , these claws , sought to hook their victim , are a superfluous element to their negotiation.
❝ miss robin , you understand what you are asking of me. ❞ crystalline stare designates itself to the halovian , bedazzled still , sans the perfected disposition known to her audience. a scale of cosmic level , spanning countless galaxies. within this grandeur , a starlet as renowned as her , was destined with immense desire , but to act on it , was an entirely separate affair.
here , without the rabble , they are at last their authentic selves. and oh , he hadn’t envisioned this. not in his wildest dreams ( ahem ). ❝ an ordeal with as grand of a scheme as the one you intend on orchestrating , will come with merciless consequences , should you miss the mark and falter from that sliver of success you yearn for. ❞ propping outstretched arm , he extends his circumspection , encouraging his words to be heeded. though , the manner in which her eyes glisten , reduces his concern to an afterthought.
ah , yes.
at the onset of their conclave , there was no room for failure to begin with.
she radiates with ambition — he can sense it , despite mankind’s faculties. this determination , emanating with an unstoppable force , is unlike those he scorns. in that the security of her promise is as unyielding as stone. a worthwhile investment , as the notorious ipc would comment. ❝ but that is where i come in. ❞ he concedes , as if to step into her envisioning , tucked behind the wreath of wings. ❝ as an outsider , this would be the optimal choice , for the intricacies of penacony are known to very few , let alone a visitor. yet , you would subject even your brother to this cruel twist. ❞ the complexity of it all , is enough to plunge the mundanite into rumination , sunk into the fibres of what the angel would stitch together. weaving her magnum opus. ❝ all for the greater good , as you claim. ❞
the sheer enormity of her plan sits in the palm of his hand , as if he might determine the weight with a single flex of his joint. left to crumble , should he tilt it sideways — rejecting the notion and sentencing the angel to live out her days in her gilded cage.
❝ prove to me this is an objective act rather than one founded on inordinate desperation. only then , shall i offer you my willing hand. ❞
#* ✦ 𝐈𝐈. ❮ asks ❯ ⸻ ❝#* ✦ 𝐕𝐈. ❮ muses ❯ ⸻ ❝ 「 veritas ratio 」#* ✦ scrtilegii#* ✦ scrtilegii | robin#this took me so long im so sorry#i was trying to work out his speech and it escaped me for ages and this is what i settled on#yeah hes not just gonna submit unfortunately he needs that proof to go yeah alright this is viable#feasibility is crucial to a researcher after all#okay but i can already sense the tension and ough
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people are really so weird and so fatphobic huh
(and oops most of my commentary is in the tags XD)
#people really out here acting like some chocolate is gonna kill you#idk maybe you should check how stats and data actually work and not just blindly trust things that get it wrong and such#because hate to break it to ya but increased risk does not equal absolute risk#it just increases the risk which is normally only by a small margin and doesnt mean anything in reality because it doesn't mean that it's#absolutely 100% going to happen that's not what risk or increased risk means#anyway this reminds of when a friend of mine took part in a study#and they were like oh yeah you have a 6% chance of a heart attack in the next 10 years#they asked if they lost weight would that decrease by a lot and the person was like uhh by like 1% it's really not the big deal everyone#makes it out to be people are just fatphobic because that's the society we've built that at all times you must be skinny#or you aren't worth anything or worse when people act like you're such a strain on the system#and that you dont deserve to have healthcare like i will scream#everyone needs to stop being so damn weird about it!!!!!!!!!!#it's literally fine it's so literally fine#you know actually thinking about increased risk with alcohol and smoking - to which is totally your choice and up to you btw#i knew someone who smoked like a chimney and drank like a fish and lived to his 70s and died of something completely unrelated#increased risk is just that increased by a certain percentage which is like not a lot in the grand scheme of things to really put it into#perspective when you have like 1 in 100 chance and the increased risk is 100% that just raises it to 2 in 100 which yes is just 1% to 2%#i will scream when people act like food is going to kill you - especially when it gets so bad people act like fruit is bad for you because#of sugar like i will cry i will start sobbing because all of this is why im pretty sure most people have disordered eating#if not full on eating disorders and that's the real concern how our attitudes make people change their behaviours and develop mental health#conditions because society is just so insistent on this one issue that you can't escape it's bad it's so bad and i hope one day#we get past all this and people can just live how they want without others getting on their backs#fatphobic people are the reason why so many people i know think they're worthless and ugly and i just that's so upsetting to me and yes yes#there's the major issues like doctors ignoring symptoms in favour of just lose weight! and then just send people into the world with 0 help#in that oh and oops now they've got an eating disorder when the problem in the first place was not weight <.<#and even if it was (which it rarely ever is) it's like okay where's the help then because there is no help and then study after study is#like oh btw dieting doesnt work lol and then what do you do what do you do im gonna start screaming hdfghsdfg#anyway sorry these tags are long im just so tired and so frustrated at the world and i hope one day people get over themselves
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its so funny when ppl assume that louise's family hasn't seen her without her bunny ears since she was a toddler?? like she takes bathes/washes her hair and also they're her FAMILY they live with her they've seen her without her ears, its probably not a big deal to them like they obviously know what she looks like They probably see her without them like once every few weeks at least??? but other than gene tina bob and linda i would say probably nobody else has seen her without her bunny ears since she was a toddler and some ppl like rudy probably never have bcuz she sleeps and swims while still wearing them
#like as the audience obviously louise not wearing her ears is a big deal#but to her family its probably just like a little weird but not crazy or unheard of LOL like when logan stole her ears she had to walk home#with gene and tina and she didnt have her hoodie then so they would've seen her?? although it would be cute if gene took off his shirt#and let her wrap it around her head while they were walking home bcuz he knows that she feels uncomfortable without it#idk i was thinking about someday writing a fanfiction abt gene/tina and their relationship to louise's bunny ears#bcuz sometimes i feel fanfictions where theyre like 'bob hasnt seen louise without her bunny ears since she was 3 years old'#and like im sorry but thats just not possible they force her to take baths and wash her hair FJDMDJSJSJSJS#and i dont think she cares TOO MUCH abt taking off her ears when she's with her family#like obviously she doesnt like to and not for too long but she's okay with it bcuz she trusts them and they make her feel safe or whatever#random thoughts but i HAVE been thinking abt it#txt#bob's burgers
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BREAKING NEWS🚨🚨🚨🚨
I AM ALIVE!!!🥳🤩💃🏾💃🏾
#omg im so sorry for being offline for so long#i miss this website so much :((((((((#life was beating THE HELL OUT OF ME😮💨#okay so first i'll talk about some of my thoughts with football and what i missed and then updates about what's been going on with me#**i really wanted to come back online and let y'all know what's up but my sis's getting married this Sunday so i ill FULLY be back Monday#i just wanted to catch up on my notification but I'll go thru my inbox on Monday/Tuesday#okay FOOTBALL:#screw psg like sincerly#i cant believe theyre causing all this mess with him after he took his family on vacation😭#like the pics are SO CUTE??? how could you possibly punish him for that#also it speaks SO MUCH to his character that he FULLY recorded an apology vid like i thought he just released a typed statement#he really showing them so much more respect than they are treating him#im still salty about the lack of wc celebration....and fans booing him outside his house?? losers LOSERSSSS#i also think they're trying to act snobby about not extending him but with neymar most likely leaving they literally have too much to lose#also neymar expecting a child???? how did not know the girl he got pregnant?? so crazy SO crazy#anyways im also not optimistic about barca and messi....as much as they may talk the big variable here is La Liga allowing it to happen#they were the reason behind messi leaving and they're the only thing stopping him from coming back#as much as i dont BELIEVE messi would go to Saudi Arabia right now....i still really hate the rumours about Al-Hilal...like shut up please#if all else fails.....Pep por favor please just bring Messi to city...its not too late#he can be on the bench i don't even mind....i just HATE him at psg but i don't want him to leave Europe#In other news....Arsenal.....my heart hurts too much and I've expected that they wont be winning the league :'(((((#NOW about ME :))))#bad news first - DESPISE my job LIKE to the point where I'm crying almost daily about it but i cant quit. i jus want one summer to relax#good news: OFFICIALLY DONE MY UNDERGRADUATE DEGREEEEEEEE💃🏾😭🤧✨#THANK GOOODDDDDDDD ALHAMDULILAHHHHHHHHHH#SO DAMN HAPPY SO SO SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!#i also took my graduation pictures yesterday (thank you to the anons that told me i should get them done)#and i took the NEW ARGENTINA JERSEY WITH THE 3 STARS AND MESSI ON THE BACK AND POSED WITH IT😭😭🤣#im OBSESSED with the pic omg if i wasn't so paranoid about showing my face on this website i would've shared it#but yeah and my graduation is JUNE 9th!!! I AM SO EXCITED! Got a really pretty dress and it literally couldn't come soon enough :)
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@starcall , ( one-liner )
❝ you can read it , these texts ? ❞ & what a surprise ―― what the Doctor found to be undecipherable scribes & illegible drivel tucked in the hands of another . ❝ i lack the means to understand this , but from what is gathered ... i believe it appears to be regarding some sort of ' magic '. perhaps it makes more sense to you . ❞
#❜ / ⠀ IC ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ A GOOD HEAD ON HIS SHOULDERS ― & 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘬.#starcall#Ⅱ — ⠀ starcall / 01.#IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!! i hope this is okay !!#nerd to nerd communication
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@erabundus asked ; [ text ] it’s been three days! why haven’t you been answering your phone? //nags nags nags TEXTING STARTERS
It's only been a few days since he'd met his counterpart. They weren't meant to bond — was this another play from fate's cruel deck?
Akihiko groans as his eyes slide, glossing over the screen to digest the words that he can practically hear. Their inner voices were one and the same at the end of the day.
The Wanderer's brow spasms in a twitch of frustration, cleverly masked by the rim of his reasonably-sized accessory. Obviously, his doppelganger ( brother is still processing within his internal vocabulary ) was failing to make use of his limitless time.
Flight, as exemplary as it was, did come with consequences when the pilot managed to find himself caught between branches. Which he knows Ren has experienced.
You cannot convince him otherwise.
#erabundus#( a ripple disrupts tranquillity ;; asks )#( verse i ;; the wanderer )#im so sorry this took so long#playing with text formatting is kind of fun though...#and yes aki knows ren has gotten his hat caught in a tree okay#theyre literally cats its bound to happen
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also I said this before already but I fucking love the merchant. not enough people talking about the merchant. okay I'm done
#venus ambassador give us a post#i love u merchant even when i accidentally piss u off and u threaten me#sorry i went into the shooting range and didnt even use it after it took u so long to set it up#thank u for warning me when im at the point of no return and should make sure i did everything in the area i wanted to do#and also fuck u for making a joke abt how i was going through it after ashley took my knife and stabbed me#i love him ur honor we're scoliosis sisters when he says his backs killing him im like brother SAMEEEE#hes just a silly little guy hes my best friend hes my everything#okay bye
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Whatever kiryu does to you might not always be the best or even safest option but he will always do it with a lot of love in his eyes so you have to forgive him
#Yakuza loveblog#i was looking through my notes at three am and i wrote something that i reread in the morning like w ..#where did this come from .... whys he doing that ... why is piss involved again .. <- already knows the answer#i really do believe that kiryu puts the things he likes in his mouth though#hes mostly grown out of it but if you catch him at an unexpected moment or if hes overwhelmed then its going inside his mouth#even the. cylinder attached to a larger structure is going into his mouth and if he cant swallow it then he’ll just leave it in his mouth#i think that kiryu should be allowed to be a little gross especially after disgusting sex. like i believe that majima likes being clean and#having long showers at the end of the day (typical girl behaviour) but kiryu will sleep in his own mess#cant stop thinking of him swallowing harukas one hundred dollar marble because he was so touched that she gave it to him#and she starts bawling and hes like. im sorry haruka. and shes like no its okay ojisan i can tell you really liked it#i bet he says sorry to haruka all the time because kiryu is constantly fucking up but she loves him so much its okay#i actually started crying when i opened the special bundle and harukas marble was in there because like she give me .... her marble .... god#shes such a special little angel and she gave me her cute little ... marble#i think haruka should inherit more than kiryus old man music taste she should watch him do things that she has unconsciously masked all the#while and then start exhibiting behaviours around him. haruka gets overstimulated and goes outside to chop wood like kiryu does#she goes to sing karaoke when she gets stressed because shes thinking about when he told her it relieves stress ...#im fucked up that they removed the kiryu sleeping on her teeny little lap scene in yk2 like he was so fuckinf sleepy and she was like here#sleep here ojisan and he was like thank you haruka ... and snoozed ............ shes his little freaking baby#i took her. to the orphanage and then i freaked it#i cant stop thinking of markiplier playing endoparasitic where he said hah you missed me. now you must kiss me ! when the thing lunged athik#like yeah i did miss you and i do want to kiss you .. wow so true#i think haruka should give kiryu kisses on the cheek like all little girls do to their dad#he fucking holds her like a baby (about to cry) oh my god their bond shes ... so little ....#when kiryu saw pochitaro again he was like hi pochitaro youve grown bigger. and pochitaro was like yip yip tail wag ! like no he didnt.#that dog is exactly as small as when you last saw it. it is the size of your foot#not haruka though she truly got bigger and she doesnt even hold his hand in y6 anymore like fuck my entire life fuck everything fuck fuck fu#or was it y5 like god no ... no ......#time is so fucking relentless your daughter will never be tiny again because shes all grown up#im thinking that haruka should meet kiryu again after hes dead and shes like OJISAN JUMPSCARE ??? and kiryus like no you got the wrong guy#and she wants to keep grilling him but she just sits down and sighs and asks him if she can pretend that hes her uncle kaz for a while ...
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♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k
: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.
Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.
The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.
Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.
That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.
You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.
“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”
“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.
Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.
“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.
Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.
As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.
Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.
Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.
Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.
In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.
“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”
You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.
As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.
She’s feeble.
Her hair lacks refinement.
The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.
She’ll be gone by tomorrow.
Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.
Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.
But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.
Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.
They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.
Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.
Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.
Good.
You craved precisely that outcome.
If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.
Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.
As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.
“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.
Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.
“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”
“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.
She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.
You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.
“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.
With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.
“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.
“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.
As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.
“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.
“Y/N, my Lord.”
As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.
A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.
You blinked in astonishment.
He appeared . . . young?
The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.
Physically, at least.
His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.
As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.
With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.
The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.
Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.
“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”
Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.
Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?
“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”
Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.
Would he?
A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.
“Look at me.”
Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.
“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”
“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”
Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.
Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.
As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.
“Don’t.”
In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.
Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?
“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.
A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.
He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.
“Turn around.”
The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.
“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”
Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.
Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.
A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.
Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.
“My Lord—”
“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”
Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.
Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.
His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.
Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.
With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.
Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.
Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.
His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.
Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”
You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.
“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.
Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.
You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.
In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.
Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.
“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.
“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”
“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”
His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.
As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.
“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”
“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”
“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”
Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.
“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.
“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.
“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”
“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”
“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.
With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.
Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.
“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”
“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.
In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.
Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.
Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.
They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.
But why you?
Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?
“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.
“No.”
“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”
Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”
You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.
“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”
“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.
With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.
As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.
Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.
Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.
Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.
Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.
No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.
“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”
You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.
For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.
You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.
As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.
But that moment never arrived.
Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.
“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.
“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.
The room fell into a sudden hush.
Dine with him?
The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.
Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.
Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.
With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.
Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.
“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.
“Draw near.”
Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.
“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.
You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”
Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.
“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.
His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”
You blushed deeper at his statement.
“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.
Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”
“Do what?”
“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”
Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.
Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.
“I ventured into town today,” he said.
“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”
“Indeed, quite fruitful.”
In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.
Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.
His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.
The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”
Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.
“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.
You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.
Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.
Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.
A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.
Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.
With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.
Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.
Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.
But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.
You glanced back again.
Until Sukuna.
Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.
It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.
Out.
In.
Out.
In.
His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.
No one would dare suspect the truth.
No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.
No one, except Sukuna.
Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.
With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.
A comforting warmth touched your back.
Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.
As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.
“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”
Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”
“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”
“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”
That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.
He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.
In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.
Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.
On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.
Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.
Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.
Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.
Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.
Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.
Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?
“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.
You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”
“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”
With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”
Sukuna snapped the book shut.
You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.
With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.
This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.
“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”
With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.
“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”
Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"
Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.
“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”
“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”
Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.
Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.
With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.
As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.
Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.
Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.
With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.
“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”
Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.
With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.
Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.
Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—
Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.
You had achieved victory.
His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.
With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.
You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.
“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”
“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.
“Did I please you, my Lo—”
“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”
“My L—”
“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.
You affirmed your agreement with a nod.
He was Sukuna.
Your Sukuna.
“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”
“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”
“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”
“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”
Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.
“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”
Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.
A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.
As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.
Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”
“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.
“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.
Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”
“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”
Your brow furrowed in dismay.
It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.
You no longer wished to endure this charade.
You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”
Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.
In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.
“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”
You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.
“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”
“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.
“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”
With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.
Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.
Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.
Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.
“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.
Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.
“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”
You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”
With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”
You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.
“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.
Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.
“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”
Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.
Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.
“Sukuna . . . ”
With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.
But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.
And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.
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