#Mortal Techniques

[helsensm]

some me time [with you]

how about railao headcanons next time? anyone?..

[charlotte-family-apologist]

Kombat kid doodles of varying quality (you can tell who I spent the most time on)

I didn’t have time to do Jin 😔

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Gerudo Town (Dad Squad)

All leads had indicated that the Yiga hideout was in the desert, as it had been in the past. Abel shouldn't have been surprised, honestly.

The issue was that he didn't know exactly where the base was. But a group of warriors did.

Trust was nonexistent these days, in the years after the Calamity. Gerudo Town had managed to escape much of the damage, but it also was cut off from the rest of Hyrule as a result. The oasis was abandoned, only utilized by weary and lost travelers, but no Gerudo roamed the sands around it.

"So let's visit this town, then," Rusl commented after taking another swig out of his newly refilled water flask.

"We can't," Abel sighed, leaning against a rock and basking in the coolness of the shade. "The Gerudo is a matriarchal society. They don't let men inside their walls."

Rusl blinked. Blinked again. Bemused, he remarked, "Matriarchal doesn't mean sexist. Surely they'll let us in."

Abel bit the inside of his cheek. He'd made this explanation plenty of times to his men in the years past. "I don't think the Gerudo are necessarily sexist. They don't distrust or hate men. It's just their tradition - whatever the reason, only girls are born to Gerudo mothers. So they just... don't interact with men in their hometown. It's tradition at this point."

"Strange," Rusl muttered. "The Gerudo are... rare where I'm from, but their distrust was shared equally to all, no matter their sex. They just didn't like anyone who wasn't Gerudo."

Rusl's words reminded Abel that they had yet to address a rather glaring matter. Ever since they had raided the abandoned Yiga camp, Abel had been pondering the fact that the Hero of Hyrule who the Fierce Deity had been protecting was a different Hero from his son. The Hero of Time was a children's story, a tale of folklore so old that barely anything was known of it except that the Soul of the Hero had traveled across time to save multiple lands.

So little was known of the goddess' destined Hero that Abel had often questioned the validity of any of the stories. He'd had no reason to disbelieve them, but... there was little reason to believe them either.

At least until his boy had come to him holding that sword.

So if the Hero of Time was one of Links being pursued by the Yiga... that just led to so many questions. Firstly, how the hell had they managed to do this??

Secondly... what was Rusl's boy? A potential Hero who could turn into a wolf? Abel had never heard of Ordon, so perhaps this Link was different - not of the Soul of the Hero but a savior to his own land nonetheless?

And now, this talk of different Gerudo cultures. Not only were these Heroes real, they and their guardians were plucked from Hyrule's history and thrown here.

I wonder their opinions on the state of things, Abel thought bitterly. How utterly we failed to maintain what they'd fought for.

It was a good thing his son was in a coma. He knew Link wouldn't be able to stand the judgment from the other heroes, whether it was good or bad.

"Either way," Rusl said, rising and interrupting Abel's musings. "I'll scout ahead to see if we can figure anything out without talking to them."

"The desert is treacherous," Abel warned. "It's foolish to go alone."

"I've gone to plenty a dangerous place alone," Rusl reassured him with a smile. "I won't engage in anything foolish, don't worry. I'll be back before sunset. This is just reconnaissance."

Abel supposed another issue to ponder was how little Rusl spoke of his past when he was clearly more than a blacksmith who knew some sword skills, but now didn't seem the time to argue it. He'd seen the man hold his own in battle well enough. Sighing, he waved a dismissive hand, watching the Ordonian walk away.

Glancing back at the oasis, he saw Rusl converse with the Fierce Deity briefly before continuing. The deity stared at the water curiously.

Abel wandered over to him. "Is something wrong?"

"This heat is mildly draining," Fierce remarked, dipping a finger into the water.

"You're more than welcome to swim in it if that's what you're wondering," Abel said. "But people do use it as a water source as well, so I advise cleaning yourself first."

"It does seem ill advised to drink from water that people can swim in," Fierce noted, raising an eyebrow. "My greater concern is hydration."

Abel blinked. If he was worried about hydrating, then why didn't he just drink?

"How much water does one need?" Fierce asked. "I have noticed you're both drinking much more since our arrival. Is it a matter of body heat regulation?"

"Have you never been to the desert...?" Abel questioned in disbelief.

"I don't recall," Fierce answered mildly, voice growing quiet. "I believe once, in battle, I was utilized, but not long enough for it to be a great concern."

Ah. Right. The things this deity did and didn't seem to know... it made Abel have so many questions. First and foremost, how the hell he was still alive.

But secondly... utilized?

"Drink more," Abel advised. "The body loses more water through sweating, and we all sweat more in the heat. Even you are."

"I noticed that much," Fierce replied with a chuckle, as if he were entertained at being taught something so simple. He dipped the flask given to him by Rusl into the oasis and began to drink.

Abel sighed, squinting against the sunlight. Link would certainly need more water if he was being held here. Or, well, had been held here. It seemed silly to go to the desert when their lead had been near Akkala, but... all Abel knew was that the Yiga stronghold was here, and they had all woken at the other side of Hyrule. They'd not had any luck finding any hints of their boys the entire journey here, so they had nothing else to go off.

After several hours of silence (Abel wasn't a particularly talkative man, and despite the deity's curiosity, he usually wouldn't speak unless prompted), Abel recognized Rusl's wavy silhouette in the distance.

The brightly colored handkerchief he was using to wipe his face was new.

"Did you have any success?" Fierce asked.

"Not really," Rusl answered. "However, I did figure out a way that we could get in to learn more."

"Is there a secret passage into the town?" Abel asked, curious. He had always wondered. He had always respected things that were forbidden, but that hadn't meant he wouldn't imagine ways of getting around it.

"Not from what I can tell," Rusl said. "But, with my plan, you could walk through the front door."

Abel found himself both curious and skeptical. He crossed his arms. "Really?"

Rusl held out the colorful handkerchief to him. Slowly taking it, Abel recognized that it was not, in fact, a handkerchief.

"The way the Gerudo dress lends itself to disguise," Rusl explained with a mischievous smile.

Abel held the veil at arm's length as if it would attack him. "You want. To do. What."

"Well if they only let women in, we have to obtain information somehow." Rusl shrugged. "You're smaller in build than me, and your hair's all grown out."

If looks could kill, Abel would have cut Rusl into pieces. "Absolutely not."

"What is it?" Fierce asked.

"He's suggesting I dress like a Gerudo woman to get into the town," Abel hissed. "The answer is no."

Rusl furrowed his brow, clearly frustrated. "Put your pride aside, Abel. This is important."

"Do you really think something like that would actually work?!" Abel motioned angrily towards the deity. "We might as well let him stroll into town in such attire for all the good it would do us!"

The Fierce Deity plucked the veil out of Abel's grip. "Will this allow one to look like a Gerudo woman?"

"Not necessarily," Rusl answered. "The point is that it will hide that he's a man."

"The veil will, but the rest is fairly apparent," Abel snapped. "I'm missing a few key components, Rusl."

"Nothing we can't tweak a little," Rusl replied easily.

This was insane.

"What other attire did you bring?"

Abel turned to argue with the deity about the stupidity of this entire half-witted plan when he saw the mythical man trying to figure out how to put the veil on.

He can't be serious.

"Well," Rusl said slowly as he pulled out more clothes. "I did grab varying sizes. The Gerudo are far taller and broader than I expected, so their clothes might actually fit you better."

"Very well," Fierce said casually, finally settling the veil in the right place. He started stripping his armor without a care, and Abel thought he was going insane. Was this actually happening right now?! A war god was going to cross dress in whatever insane attire the Gerudo chose to wear and--

And--

You know what, to hell with it. Better him than me.

When the Fierce Deity had finished switching clothes, the other two stared at him. Rusl crossed his arms, examining the disguise carefully while Abel just felt his sanity continue to slip away. He wasn't sure he cared at this point. Perhaps he could at least find some entertainment from this?

No, no he couldn't. It was too stupid.

Count your blessings, he reminded himself. At least they actually believe you about the threat the Yiga present now. They believe you enough to even try this fool's errand.

The Fierce Deity, usually a foreboding sight in his pale blue tunic and silver armor, striking attention with the royal blue scarf tied around his waist, was instead adorned in fiery red, which emphasized the paleness of his exposed, muscular abdomen and shoulders. He wore loose, baggy pants and flat footed shoes, silver hair and eyes glittering against a red and gold veil.

"This is not going to work," Abel immediately commented. "He's too big."

Too big, too broad, too muscular. The women of Gerudo were strong enough to probably lift an entire guardian off its feet, but their muscles were still distinctly patterned differently. Women's shoulders were not so broad, nor chest and waist so box-like. Whether the Gerudo assumed he was one of theirs or Hylian, he would still look too masculine to play this part.

"They'll find out immediately," he continued, feeling his stomach churn at the thought that came next. Maybe I should do it... it would be more reasonable, but... no. This entire thing is idiotic. It'll never work.

Rusl, who had been foraging for something else in his bag, suddenly pulled out two hydromelons. "Here, put these in your top."

Fierce took the fruit without argument, and Abel stared, eyes widening. Well, Rusl was certainly committed.

"Giving him breasts isn't going to fix the obvious issue that he is a man," he argued.

"Of course it'll help," Rusl replied. "He just has to... well..."

Rusl paused, staring at the deity as he fumbled to stuff the fruit in his top without them falling out and splattering on the ground.

"Play the part," Abel finished for him flatly.

XXX

Well... it wasn't an immediate disaster.

Abel and Rusl hid behind a dune as they watched Fierce approach the guards, who exchanged... baffled looks from what Abel could tell.

"Hello, fellow women," the deity greeted.

Rusl choked back a cough.

"This is not going to work," Abel hissed, his own voice strained in a competition between secondhand embarrassment, horror, and losing it.

"Hey, it would've been better if you did it!" Rusl whisper back.

Over my dead body.

Surprisingly, the guards shuffled aside to allow him passage after a few confused glances.

Abel stared.

"Ha!" Rusl huffed in triumph. "I told you it would work."

"You didn't know it was going to work!" Abel accused, turning to glare at him.

Rusl ignored him. "Let's see if we can get closer. We can peek over the far wall a little bit."

Abel sighed heavily, dragging his feet through the sand as the pair practically crawled around the edge of the town before climbing the wall opposite of the entrance. Abel half wondered why they couldn't just enter that way, but he supposed in such a small area they were bound to be noticed.

The pair peered over.

It was immediately apparent which one was Fierce. He was simultaneously blending in and sticking out like a sore thumb. His silver hair caught the sunlight, and his towering, imposing figure managed to outshine the Gerudo. Every woman who passed paused and gave him a strange side eye, but no one outright said anything. For his part, Fierce was standing still, surveying the area.

Abel groaned, pounding his forehead against the wall. "He doesn't even know what to do."

Rusl bit his lip, slowly climbing the wall and kneeling in the water that bordered the edge of the town. Abel hesitantly followed. Fierce immediately noticed of them with his superior eyesight. Rusl made little gestures, wiggling his fingers and mouthing words even Abel couldn't understand.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "He'll never know what you're trying to tell him!"

Fierce nodded, walking slowly around the town.

"He's doing quite well for his first espionage mission," Rusl commented with a chuckle.

Abel groaned. "You're insane."

"Oh, Abel, you should lighten up. There are many ways to achieve a goal, it's not all about the sword."

"I'm aware of that."

The deity finally started to talk to women, disappearing in and out of the men's sight. Abel sighed, rubbing his face as he felt it steadily burning. Between the bright rays and the reflection from the water, he'd rival a Hylian tomato by the end of the day.

"Hopefully he can get some legitimate leads," Rusl muttered. "The sooner we can find the boys, the better."

Abel wanted to face plant into the water with the heat as bad as it was. Instead, he splashed a little on his face. "Yes, well, you're forgetting something very important."

"What?"

"Our esteemed deity is a war god with no idea how mortals function. He's probably going to ask them how they braid their hair."

"Come now, don't disrespect him like that. He's not an idiot."

"I didn't say he was an idiot. On the contrary, he's very curious. That's the problem."

"He'll focus."

Abel hummed, immediately thinking of his wife, Tilieth. Rusl clearly wasn't used to the mischief an inquisitive mind could stir up. Not to mention the deity wasn't exactly subtle. He was certain the deity's concern for his own Link would drive him forward, but he was likely to get distracted as well.

Assuming he could even keep the act up.

"A voe has been spotted! Up there!!"

Abel and Rusl both jolted, eyes wide as they looked down to see guards running their way with spears in hand.

"Time to go!" Rusl said quickly as the pair leapt over the wall back into the sand and scurried away.

Hours later as the sun cast long shadows and brought a chill to the air around the oasis, Abel paced anxiously until he and Rusl both caught sight of their companion's return.

"What did you learn?" Rusl immediately asked.

Fierce pulled the veil and shirt off, clearly having grown uncomfortable in it, and headed for his armor. "Mating customs are strange."

Abel immediately burst into laughter, vindicated. He honestly hadn't expected anything else. The day was wasted, but he supposed he could get what entertainment was available from it. Even he hadn't expected that to be the first thing out of the deity's mouth.

Rusl frowned. "What...?"

"Did Uli, your wife, assert her dominance to you, or is that a Gerudo custom?"

Abel's amusement multiplied tenfold, and he wheezed as he doubled over. Rusl stared at the deity in horror.

"I seem to recall you both spoke of varying mating customs in that village, after all."

Rusl immediately face palmed. "This... those are not the details you were supposed to be investigating."

"Fear not," Fierce continued, slipping on his trousers and under tunic. "I also learned the location of the Yiga hideout. One of the women reported having seen two boys and a wolf as well."

Abel and Rusl snapped to attention, earlier amusement forgotten.

"The Gerudo claim that the hideout was set on fire," Fierce explained. "They investigated it and discovered our heroes. My little hero apparently did not let them near him or his companions, but they were all alive as of one week ago."

One week. A million things could happen in that span of time. Link could have died in that time.

"Does anyone know where they went?" he asked breathlessly.

"The guards tracked them for a few days until they left the desert."

"They left the desert a week ago?" Rusl repeated. "That... so we must have--"

The Ordonian let out a strangled, frustrated groan, turning away as he shook his head. Abel felt similarly. They'd just missed them.

He wondered if the encampment near Akkala had been a more recent lead, after all. Then again, it had taken them a week to get here.

"We need to leave," he said. "The coolness of the night will be good to travel through in the desert."

The other two didn't argue. Rusl was growing frustrated and concerned at how long it had been. Abel was panicking at his son's condition. The three set out within minutes, determination set on stony faces.

Hylia... I... haven't prayed lately, I know, but... please...

Protect him. Protect... protect them all.

[captin-azoth]

CAGE-A-LICIOUS~💖

[ultraviolencegaming]

[mxwhore]

day eleven thousand of feeling like a fucking dumbass who shouldnt be doing science

[bleachcakes]

Working on my lighting. Trying knew techniques is challenging but I like how it’s improving my art :>

Links: NoEffect:Effect

[cowlovely]

sometimes i think about the absolutely batshit insane things that happened in warrior cats that have somehow managed to remain largely unknown by people outside the fanbase and i start to lose it

[scattered-storyteller]

This is a solid starting point for encounter design, but it's no more fit for purpose than most of what's in the DMG because it doesn't consider party size. Speaking as a DM with 10+ years experience, the actual key thing to consider when designing encounters is action economy. How many chances to act are the enemy going to get relative to the players in one round of combat, and how impactful are the actions the enemy can take relative to those the players can take? And, to go one level deeper, how easy is it for each side to reduce the number and impact of the other side's actions? That is the actual key to making balanced and engaging encounters. For example, if impact per action * number of actions is about equal between sides, your players are in for a tough fight that is likely to exhaust many of their resources and may take a few PCs down, but probably won't put an end to the adventuring day by itself. Adjusting that balance lets you pretty reliably control how hard pressed your party is going to be in each encounter and how quickly they'll run through their limited resources.

Another benefit of this approach is that it lets you account for things like player skill and favorable or unfavorable circumstances. Players with deeper system mastery or good team tactics are going to get more impact out of their actions on average, while players with less understanding are going to be less effective on average, and you can choose their enemies accordingly. Likewise if your players are striking from ambush, springing a trap, or preventing their enemies from using their best stuff effectively, you can also account for that in the action-impact calculation.

[tiktaaliker]

but can novice do the spell again

nope lol there's literally not enough left of novice to do it anymore. the novice was dabbling in some SERIOUS shit that probably would've killed them anyways if it HAD succeeded, especially since Noxa Krov was an Eternal and significantly more powerful than a mortal could even really comprehend

[remiratboi]

I like the idea of being sent to hell for carnal sins, and the punishment fitting the crime, so to speak.

CW: torture, hell, pain, edging, overstim, orgasm denial, mind break, forced sex, monster fucking, beast fucking, object insertion, tentacles, machine fucking, oviposition, egg birth, egg birth denial, size kink, anal, knotting

Every fantasy you’ve ever imagined is granted to you, but in the wrong way. Every single depraved, twisted thing you wanted to experience, even things a mortal human body can’t physically do. It’s hell, so those restrictions no longer apply.

You’re fucked for literal years on end. By everything and anything. Monsters, criminals, beasts, objects, machines, if you can think of it, it fucks you, or someone fucks you with it.

Huge cocks that would literally ruin you in your past life. Strange objects and techniques that would rip you apart.

Tentacles fuck all the way through your body, entering your ass, and thrusting through your throat.

Massive eggs deposited deep in your womb, only for you to have to birth them, your body stretched obscenely and painfully. Just when you finally feel one crown, another huge cock pushes it all the way back into you, forcing it to reenter your cervix.

Massive Minotaurs forcing you down on two of their cocks at once, your mind snapping in half as they slam themselves into you over and over again.

3 headed Cerberus with his huge dick longer than your arm, pounding his knot in and out of your ass at a dizzying speed. Gallons of cum pumped into you until it’s dripping out of your mouth.

Crazed scientists with hundreds of machines to test on you. How much does this one hurt? How much does that one make you scream?

Criminals you knew of on earth who stand against everything you believe in, making you a drooling slut on their cocks. Taunting you for being so easy to break. You’ll just fuck anything won’t you? Even the literal worst humanity has to offer.

Being spitroasted between two huge demons, their tips meeting in your middle, their tails deep in your ass.

So much cum. You’re always filled, dripping, swallowing. Each creature depositing their cum, or eggs, or whatever else inside you and dropping you to crash to the ground when they are done. At all times you’re incubating at least 3 different species.

And the kicker? What truly makes it all the worst punishment imaginable? You can’t cum. You have been cursed to be unable. You live just before the peak at all moments. But you never tip over. You never get to feel the release.

You spend eternity on the precipice of the strongest orgasm anyone, anything, has ever experienced, and you will never get to find out what it feels like.

[reignpage]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

True form!Sukuna and all the silly ways in which he exploits his gigantic body against you - pure fluff (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

True form!Sukuna is huge. Fact. He has four arms. Fact. He has a stomach mouth. Devastating fact.

True form!Sukuna loves to hear you shout at him for something he's done that he doesn't really understand why is so wrong. All he hears is 'sanctity of life,' 'children are precious' and 'mess.' Despite how irritating your words are, for he cannot comprehend what any of it means, he's grown rather fond of your voice. He can listen to you for hours. Days. But he occasionally finds that shutting you up is much more entertaining. So, as he sits on his throne, chin resting on one fist, watching your arms flail and your mouth move at an impressive speed, he decides he's done being reprimanded.

Suddenly getting on his feet, he watches his body cast a shadow over your entire frame. Then, silence befalling the both of you, he awaits that slow bend of your head back, creaking more and more as you stretch your neck to meet his amused gaze. He steps closer so your face is right in front of his mouth stomach.

In a flash, that mouth has opened up and given you a lick.

"Delicious."

You smack him on his chest and he bellows a laugh.

True form!Sukuna spars with you. It was your idea — you think it necessary for his spirit, to avoid feeling restless, to maintain some of his competitive spirit, ensuring that any urge for stretching his limbs is taken out on a consenting individual, rather than an innocent (not that he thinks such a person exists, all mortals, with one exception, are filthy inside and out).

These sessions never last very long because you get frustrated so quickly. Sure, it's his fault and he's willing to admit that, but he won't stop any time soon. He'll say it's because it's hilarious to watch you fight to get out of the grip one of his large hands has on your head as he keeps you at an arm's length, easily avoiding your swinging limbs. The truth, however, is that landing a blow on you is not how he'd like to pass time at all. Pinning you beneath him is, but in a different context, of course.

"Your technique could use much work. At this rate, it will be impossible for you to even lay a hand on me, much less strike me down."

Trying to peel his hand off your face, you mumble against his palm, "You have four arms, Kuna. You're being unfair."

"Your excuses fall on deaf ears. Now, struggle harder and use your legs too. It will not work but it will be funny."

True form!Sukuna acts like a man often, though he'd reject that accusation. One such occasion is when he is insulted you're much more focused on your phone than on him. He snatches that contraption from you and holds it up high with one arm. Jumping for it, he grins at your pathetic attempt to retrieve your personal belonging. It's like an ant trying to climb a tree.

Another is when he refuses to let you hold his hand. All four of them. You whine his name, trying to pry one of his hands open so you can place your own in his clutch. But he doesn't relent. Instead, he insists on holding onto four different things at once.

He'd hold four books at once, even as you smack his chest. Or he folds all his arms, grip impossible to break through, try as you might, and you certainly do.

Only when you sigh and give up does he make a tsk sound before all arms are wrapping around your frame and holding you up.

True form!Sukuna makes it up to you by carrying you around with one arm, another holding your phone up to your face, a plate full of fruit, and the fourth pushing ugly servants who come into his view with a ridiculous request away so they cannot disturb him.

True form!Sukuna utilises his stomach mouth in nefarious ways. Yes, exactly what you're thinking of, but also like a toddler.

Torso bare, he'll sit at the head of a meeting with you among the crowd, per your insistence since apparently he has 'wandering hands' that are both 'embarrassing' and 'distracting.' That mouth will curve into a mischievous smile, forcing a sigh out of you. With his face completely stone-cold, he'll stick a tongue out of his stomach and wriggle it, razor-sharp teeth glinting in the light as you fight the urge to laugh.

You know you shouldn't encourage him; it's immature and unbefitting of a lady. But, it's such an odd sight. Especially as the other members of staff and guests can do nothing but shuffle awkwardly, unsure of how to react because surely, their King wouldn't be so childish and that gesture is very clearly not directed towards them.

It doesn't stop there either.

When you're washing dishes, you have to be aware of your surroundings — masterful killer, he is, he slips behind you without making a single noise, shadow looming over you once more, and you find your shirt lifted up, cool breeze climbing up your back just as something wet and warm does.

True form!Sukuna licks you. Gasping, spluttering, squirming, all you hear in reply is a snicker before he pulls your shirt down, pecks your head and disappears to whatever dark corner he came from.

True form!Sukuna's pettiness knows no bounds. Truly. Very often when he finds himself at the receiving end of your lectures and scolding, he uses his face mouth to agree to everything you say but his stomach mouth will be snarking at you.

Or in arguments, he treats his stomach mouth as a third party observer who is not at all objective.

"No, I do not want daffodils in our garden," he insists. "They are a peasant's flower."

Tired, you fire back, "I like daffodils. They're just as pretty as gardenias!"

"Hmm, no, gardenias are infinitely better," Stomach Mouth says.

True form!Sukuna smiles. "I believe that is two votes against you. Accept defeat, woman."

"What? That's not fair! He doesn't count. Ugh, why doesn't he ever agree with me!"

True form!Sukuna even does something you hate very much: he eats you. And no, not like that. Okay, well, yes, like that but not in this instance.

He will stomp over to where you sit on the floor, playing with some cards on the coffee table and rolling your eyes at yet another shadow you find darkening your day. Wordlessly, he stands there. He would wait however long it takes for you to become exasperated and look up. That's when he strikes.

As soon as you make eye contact, your whole vision turns black as you are engulfed into his stomach. Your hands smack his thighs in a panic, silent scream leaving you as you struggle around the clamp of his lips. Licking your face, he releases you and you heave for breath, wiping the slobber from your skin.

True form!Sukuna laughs heartily, clutching his stomach and shaking the room with his amusement. Thoroughly entertained, he grabs your ankle and lifts you into the air, watching you dangle from a great height with a pout.

Shaking you, he demands, "Do not make that face, woman. If I really wanted to eat you, you'd be all chewed up by now. Rejoice in my mercy and thank me by walking on my back. Bending down so often causes aches only you can fix."

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

[foldingfittedsheets]

Not to be self congratulatory but a classmate was doing a study for one of his game design classes and asked if I’d be one of his participants. I like him so I said yes and he had me do a questionnaire and then set me up in front of Street Fighter.

He had me with set parameters and told me to just fight it out so I did. I watched his eyebrows go up when I finished but he couldn’t comment until the end.

He asked if I played Street Fighter regularly and I said no. I told him I played stuff like Bloody Roar, Guilty Gear, Mortal Kombat and Smash Bros growing up socially, but it’s never been my genre.

He asked if I would be more interested to play Street Fighter after this test and I said no.

He started quietly laughing when I finished all the questions and I said, “What? Did I do poorly?”

“No. You finished the fastest out of anyone I’ve tested. You’re also the oldest and have the least interest in this genre of game, it’s just really funny.”

I told him my best friend growing up had consoles but I didn’t. He got to play and practice regularly so he tended to be better than me as a baseline. But. If I won he’d get so furious that he’d turn the console off and we could do what I wanted instead, so I developed an aggressive button mashing technique that has served me well.

[fangdokja]

You were born with the most overpowered ability in existence. You just don’t care.

♡ Yandere! Superpowers AU x Fem. Reader. Golden Hero, DILF! CEO, Host Club! King, Mortal Enemy

♡ Word Count. 1,931

Your life peaked at birth.

That was it. That was your highlight. The moment you inhaled oxygen for the first time, your existence had reached its pinnacle. Everything afterward was a downward spiral of pure, unfiltered misery.

You were born into a world where everyone had a “Talent.” Superpowers. Gifts. Whatever. Some people could shoot fire from their hands. Some could turn their skin to steel. Some could regenerate even after being vaporized into atoms (cheating, in your humble opinion). And you? Well. Everyone thought you were born without a Talent. A poor, unfortunate soul—so talentless, so pathetic, so powerless, so utterly beneath them.

They were right about one thing: You are beneath them. Because you keep your head down and ignore them. Because you have mastered the ancient technique known as not giving a single shit about anyone or anything.

Your real Talent?

You can steal abilities. Copy them. Keep them. Take them permanently if you feel like it. You are, technically, the most powerful being to have ever existed.

But, you see, that sounds like a lot of effort.

So, instead, you ignore everyone, stay in your room, and play video games. You’ve never even used your ability. You don’t want to. You just want to write fanfiction, consume an unhealthy amount of energy drinks, and pretend the world outside doesn’t exist.

Unfortunately, the world refuses to pretend you don’t exist.

────────────

You’re not sure which part of your life is the most miserable—the fact that you were born into a world where everyone gets a unique, flashy ability that makes them feel special, or the fact that everyone has collectively agreed that you are the single most useless human being in existence.

Well, “useless” is relative. It’s just that you don’t give a single damn about anything. You don’t want to be a hero, you don’t want to fight crime, and you sure as hell don’t want to interact with people.

Unfortunately, the world has other plans.

Your entire childhood has been a tragic comedy of errors. Born without a visible ability, everyone—your classmates, your teachers, even your next-door neighbor’s dog—assumed you were just some talentless loser doomed to live a pathetic existence. That assumption made you the perfect target for bullying. Your classmates threw your lunch in the trash. Teachers ignored you. Some particularly ambitious kids attempted full-blown assassination attempts, only for you to dodge them on pure instinct. And all this time, you just went along with it, because honestly? You didn’t care. It’s not like they could do anything to you.

Your life should have been an isekai.

Seriously. The way you’ve suffered? Classic protagonist material. You’ve been bullied, underestimated, and laughed at for years. In a world where Talents were everything, being perceived as powerless was a death sentence. If this were a shounen manga, this would be the part where you trained under a waterfall and came back stronger.

But, nah. You just stopped trying.

What was the point?

Besides, the world had heroes. Annoying, loud, self-righteous heroes who wouldn’t shut up about justice.

———

Then, one day, you got hit by a truck.

Not in an “isekai reincarnation” kind of way, but in an “oh wow, I should be dead” kind of way. The truck, which had been barreling down the street at full speed, collided with your frail, bullied-kid body. The driver screamed. Bystanders screamed. You... blinked in mild annoyance and got up like nothing happened.

It was in that moment that your guardian, the only man in the world who knows the truth, realized just how overpowered you really are. He’s the only reason you haven’t been kidnapped by the government yet. He legally adopted you, locked down any medical records that could expose your unnatural resilience, and made sure no one figured out that you can obliterate entire city blocks with a single thought. All in all, he’s a pretty chill dude. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably be strapped to an operating table somewhere while scientists poked at your brain.

But despite his best efforts, the world still found a way to ruin your life.

Enter the heroes.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who you hate the most.

Loud. Enthusiastic. An unbearable optimist with a voice that makes your ears bleed. He is everything you despise in a person. He bursts into rooms like an anime protagonist, calls you “young one” like he’s in some ancient martial arts flick, and has the audacity to believe in you. Disgusting.

You try to avoid him, but he’s persistent. He sees your dead eyes, your unwillingness to engage, and instead of taking the hint like a normal person, he takes it as a challenge. He’s convinced that if he just tries hard enough, he can turn you into a bright and shining hero like him. You, meanwhile, are just trying to figure out the best way to fake your own death to escape this nightmare.

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who talks like he's in a motivational TED Talk at all times. Who believes in justice, honor, and the power of a bright smile, which is why he’s utterly convinced you need to be "saved."

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who refuses to accept your blatant apathy. "Young one! The world is a battlefield, but I will stand as your shield!" Shut up, dude, you’re just making this worse.

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who sees you, a human embodiment of existential nihilism, and immediately appoints himself as your personal savior. Whether you like it or not. (You don’t.)

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who mistakes your complete lack of reaction to being saved from a villain as ‘unshakable bravery’ and not ‘I-don’t-care-please-just-let-me-die-in-peace’ energy.

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who just knows—knows in his noble, justice-infused bones—that beneath your deadpan stare and monotone voice lies a tragic, misunderstood soul in need of his relentless, overbearing affection.

♡ Yandere! Golden Hero who loves justice but, apparently, loves you more, considering how he starts bending laws and morals just to keep you within his reach.

———

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who is your guardian.

The only person you can tolerate. He’s rich, powerful, and the reason you haven’t been dissected like a lab rat. He acts like he doesn’t care, but he keeps a closer eye on you than you’d like to admit. If you even so much as get a scratch, there’s a 99% chance he’s already arranged for the person responsible to disappear. Permanently.

You don’t question it. He buys you the latest gaming consoles and lets you rot in your room. You consider this a fair trade.

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who is the only person you can tolerate, which is a strong word because you technically live under his roof.

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who took one look at you, with your permanent sleep-deprived expression and social battery of a Nokia phone, and said, “Hah. Useless.” Then took you home anyway.

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who is the only person in the world who knows your true power. Who laughs whenever you get bullied because, in his words, “Hah! You actually let them put their hands on you?” He tilts his head, amused. “Didn’t feel like turning them into dust today?”

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who has trained you to be the world’s greatest heiress-slash-assassin-slash-overpowered-abomination without you even realizing it. (One day, you accidentally dodge a sniper bullet mid-yawn, and the realization hits you.)

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who only has one rule: Don’t. Get. Involved. He’s not having another board meeting ruined by some melodramatic hero crying about morality.

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who absolutely spoils you rotten—not in a ‘sugar daddy’ way, but in a ‘you-will-never-be-independent-or-escape-my-influence’ way.

♡ Yandere! DILF! CEO who casually destroys entire corporate empires just because someone looked at you wrong. (You don’t even notice until you see an international news report about a Fortune 500 company vanishing overnight.)

———

♡ Yandere! Host Club! King who is too persistent.

Somehow, you’ve also attracted the attention of the most insufferable social butterfly to ever exist. He is charming, manipulative, and refuses to leave you alone. Every time you turn around, he’s there, draping himself over your personal space and saying things like “Oh, darling, why do you insist on being such a recluse? I could show you a whole new world.”

You would rather eat glass.

♡ Yandere! Host Club! King who is every high school girl’s dream and your personal nightmare. Who runs a host club not because he needs money, but because he loves being adored.

“Hi, I’m—”

“I don’t care.”

His eye twitched. That wasn’t the script. That wasn’t how people reacted to him. He had perfected the art of being irresistible.

And yet, here you were.

Reading fanfiction.

In the middle of class.

With your laptop propped up on the desk, an entire paragraph of explicit smut visible to anyone who glanced over.

♡ Yandere! Host Club! King who considers you his greatest challenge. A girl who gives zero reaction? Who doesn’t blush, stutter, or even acknowledge his existence? Unacceptable.

♡ Yandere! Host Club! King who makes it his life mission to make you crack, not realizing that your version of cracking is fantasizing about various ways to disappear from society.

♡ Yandere! Host Club! King who has tried everything—roses, grand declarations, staged rescues. You just stare at him like he’s an interesting but ultimately disappointing lab experiment.

———

♡ Yandere! Mortal Enemy who you think is the only one with common sense.

The only person who treats you like a normal human being, which is to say, like absolute garbage. He calls you names, makes fun of your nonexistent social life, and has absolutely no idea that you could snap your fingers and reduce him to atoms. Honestly, you respect that.

He’s your ultimate enemy, but he’s the only one who hasn’t tried to “fix” you, and that makes him the least annoying person in your life.

♡ Yandere! Mortal Enemy who’s been bullying you since day one, mostly because he doesn’t understand how someone as useless as you keeps effortlessly avoiding his attacks.

♡ Yandere! Mortal Enemy who is the only one who doesn’t see you as ‘a tragic soul in need of saving’ or ‘an intriguing enigma.’ No, he sees you as the most infuriating human to ever exist, and he needs to do something about it.

He wasn’t technically a bully.

He just found you irritating.

You were slow, never reacted properly, had this vacant expression like nothing in the world could surprise or amuse you. You didn’t fear him. Didn’t respect him. Didn’t even bother acknowledging his existence unless he was actively standing in front of you.

So yeah, he might’ve knocked your books out of your hands a few times. Might’ve tripped you in the hall. Might’ve thrown your lunch away when you weren’t looking.

♡ Yandere! Mortal Enemy who, through sheer force of hate and obsession, spirals into the most unhinged, self-destructive form of love possible. (The kind that looks like ‘I’ll ruin anyone who touches you, but I’ll also break my own bones trying to keep you away from other people.’)

♡ Yandere! Mortal Enemy who goes from throwing insults to throwing hands with anyone who dares disrespect his punching bag.

———

What you did know?

This was hell. Absolute, inescapable hell.

And the worst part?

None of them were going to let you leave.

And you? You just want them all to leave you the hell alone so you can finish writing your fanfiction in peace.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson , @yandreams-storageblog , @tiffyisme3760 , @songbirdgardensworld , @yune1337 , @mocalocha , @astreaaaaaa6 , @poopooindamouf , @yandereaficionado , @esther-kpopstan , @iris-arcadia

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[serpentface]

The pylidaigh, a type of vampiric snow ghost, as imagined in folklore in and around the Highlands.

This is a ghost believed to come into being when a person dies in the snow and their body is not found before their soul (still trapped without its funeral rites) 'freezes' inside of it. The body then reanimates into a pylidaigh's twisted form. It looks like someone who slowly died of starvation, just a thin layer of flesh over bones. Its skin is as white as the snow itself, so pale it can blend seamlessly into a blizzard. Most of its body appears subtly stretched and lanky, save for its exceptionally unsubtle long, skinny arms, which drag on the ground behind it when it walks. After a big meal of blood, its belly swells like the abdomen of a tick.

A pylidaigh can only tread across snow and ice, and so doorways and windows are best kept clear of snowfall during the winter in order to prevent it from reaching inside. It mostly comes out to hunt during blizzards when there is little that can prevent it from catching its victims.

In spite of its fragile appearance, a pylidaigh is supernaturally strong, and can run at great speeds when it wants to. No mortal weapons can pierce its body, nor can any bonds known to craftsmen hold it in place. It is usually said that chains forged like iron but made out of ice can bind a pylidaigh and render it immobile, but this smithing technique remains tragically elusive to the average joe.

This ghost is either cast as a wildly dangerous but tragic figure, or one that is more simply malicious. In either case, it is described as experiencing nothing but bitter cold. It shivers endlessly. It retains distant memories of what it was to be alive, and it is motivated by a futile desperation to experience the feeling of warmth again.

In more sympathetic framings, it is described as using its freaky gibbon arms to capture its victims and pull them into an embrace, rather innocently trying to warm itself against their body. This inevitably fails, and the embrace becomes a bone crushing squeeze. When that too fails to warm the ghost, it rips out the person's throat and drinks their blood until the victim is as cold and drained as the pylidaigh itself.

In other cases, this more pitiable narrative of a ghost seeking warmth with no comprehension of its actions is discarded in favor of making it purely monstrous. Here it is a type of vampire with an insatiable thirst, practically a physical manifestation of the worst of winter itself. Some tales acknowledge both variants, suggesting a pylidaigh's violent attempts to warm itself may be initially devoid of malice, but turns into an act of furious jealousy of the warmth of the living after years of suffering.

The only (more or less) surefire method to permanently kill a roaming pylidaigh involves trapping it with fire. They are attracted to any source of heat, and will attempt to warm themselves with the flames (if not tempted away by a juicy living human body). The fire itself cannot kill them (as the sheer cold of their body is more powerful even than flame) but they can be trapped if kept near the fire long enough for the snow it depends upon to melt. This does not kill the pylidaigh either. The monster will remain in stuck in place (and potentially become a threat again if it snows more) for the duration of the winter. Only when the spring comes and all the snow melts does it revert into a normal human carcass (though mysteriously invulnerable to decay), at which point it can be cremated.

Pylidaigh in the wilds also revert to a human corpse during the snowless seasons, but will roam again each following winter unless it is burnt in the interim. It is of critical importance that any human corpse found in high mountain pasture is cremated- not only out of respect for the poor soul trapped as an earthbound ghost, but to prevent the threat of the possible dormant pylidaigh emerging next winter.