#STRAIGHT RAZOR The Curse

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Audio: STRAIGHT RAZOR Shares Dance Floor Friendly "Misery"

New Audio: STRAIGHT RAZOR Shares Dance Floor Friendly "Misery" @OmarDoom @heygroover @romainpalmieri @DorianPerron

While he may be best known for his roles in Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof and Inglorious Basterds, Omar Doom has committed most of his creative life to music. Doom’s latest musical project STRAIGHT RAZOR sees him crafting a blend of darkwave, techno and EBM anchored around menacing beats and hypnotic, clockwork melodies.  After a string of standalone singles and remixes, Doom released his…

[cto10121]

Me: [pacing in the therapist office] But what really kills me are the people who believe that Musical Gelphie has more development than Fiyeraba and that Fiyeraba came out of ~nowhere. Putting Book Wicked aside for a hot second, the whole reason why Musical Elphaba and Glinda became friends in the first place in the musical is because Glinda played a mean trick on Elphaba, and Elphaba completely misunderstands it. She thinks Glinda gifting her the black hat was genuine! This leads her to ask Madame Morrible to include Glinda in her seminar and Glinda feeling guilty about her cruel attempt at humiliation and trying to assuage it by dancing with Elphie. That’s when they truly become friends. In so doing, the musical bases their entire friendship on a misunderstanding (!!). That’s what I mean when I say that Musical Wicked is fundamentally the Glinda Show. The two of them don’t become friends when they recognize their similarities or as a natural reconciliation of their differences. They are friends because Glinda felt white liberal guilt for a hot second. And then in the very next scene, Glinda tries to make Elphaba “popular” by making her to act and look like her. She still doesn’t accept Elphaba! So yeah, Musical Gelphie is a cursed ship to me, very cursed. I may bitch about Musical Fiyero being a Glinda clone (basically Book Avaric + Book Fiyero’s background), but at the very least he did accept Elphaba, green skin, Animal rights, and high C#5s and all. And the musical has at least a handful of Fiyeraba interactions pre-As Long As You’re Mine which shows their attraction to each other. I don’t know, does that make sense?

Therapist: Musical Wicked just sounds cursed all around.

Me: I know!

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Tattered

Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Reader

Summary: Reader, Wade, and Logan decide to go out in the nearby woods to do some casual training. Once Logan and the Reader get to fight, things get heated and escalate. (Reader has a regenerative power as well)

CW: fighting, stabbing, blood, jealous!Logan, Wade being Wade, choking, biting, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie,

a/n: this is my first time writing for Logan. I am hella excited. Reader has a regenerative power along with super strength and nails that turn into razor sharp claws. Also sorry I don’t proof read, so grammar mistakes I’m sure

~~~

“Fuck— I don’t remember you being this strong!” Wade Wilson, a close friend and teammate of yours, coughed out. You had decided to do some casual training in the nearby woods, giving you all full access to throw down to your full abilities. You pinned him down with your hips, pulling a small knife from your holster. Hovering it above his groin. “Say uncle or you’re gonna be growing Wade Jr. back,” you grinned.

Wade gasped, “Baby Knife? You wouldn’t—“

You began pressing your knife into his pants, breaking the fabric as you inched closer to his favorite asset. “Okay- Okay! Jesus Christ and Mary— UNCLE! There I said it,” Wade held his hands up in between you showing mercy.

A deep chuckle was heard behind you.

Logan Howlett, The Wolverine, stood behind leaned against a tree. Watching as you and Wade fought back and forth for the last thirty minutes. You had taken a liking to Wade’s new roommate. Gruff and stubborn in nature, distant and aloof, but somehow still alluring.

You rolled off Wade, standing and wiping the dirt off your clothes. “When I said I wanted you in my pants, that wasn’t what I had in mind,” Wade stood up behind you. You threw the knife into his thigh, pulling a disapproving groan of agony from him. Silent curse words pouring from his mouth as he pulled the knife out, “I’m keeping this.”

“If you two are done flirting, I think it’s my turn to fight,” Logan smirked at you. He was incredibly handsome. Ever since Wade had came back from the Void with Logan, you had been infatuated. His dark hair, deep voice, everything about him was admirable. Especially right now as you watched him remove his flannel, sporting a white tank top underneath. The veins on his arms popped against the strong muscle. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Aren’t you a little old to be fighting someone?” You teased as the new 200-year-old from another universe stood before you.

“Oh no, no, no. Me and this guy went at it all night the first time we met,” Wade chimed in. Logan gritted his teeth at him, warning him to watch what he says next.

“All night you say? Sounds like my kind of party,” you stretched your body, preparing to face off with the new guy. You watched Logan roll and pop his neck, stretching out his arms. Admiring his muscular physique.

“He’s got the stamina of a college freshman wired on Redbull and pure sex drive,” Wade patted Logan on the shoulder. Logan held up a fist to Wade’s face, claws extending mere inches from his eyes. “Shut the fuck up. You had your chance to fight, now leave,” he growled at Wade. Wade stomped his foot like a toddler, whining as he spoke, “Whaaaat!? No fair! You got to watch me fight Sexy Mutant Mamma, why don’t I get to watch the two hottest people in our building go at it!” You chuckled at his minor temper tantrum.

“Because you make everything weird! Now get outta here,” Logan held his claws under Wade’s chin pulling a small drop of blood from him. Wade spun on his heal, fists bundled up at his sides as he stomped away into the woods. Grumbling the entire way, “Not fucking fair. Wanted to see their clothes ripped off. Fucking fuck…”

You placed your hands on your hips, standing straight and firm before Logan. “So are we gonna do this or—“ Logan lunged forward at you, catching you off guard slightly. “Holy shit—“ you jumped before he could tackle you to the ground with his first attack. He dug his claws into the ground as he spun around to face where you were now. You opted out of grabbing one of your weapons. Deciding to go in with brute strength instead. You ran towards Logan, fist pulled back preparing to punch him. He grabbed your hand mid punch, twisting your arm. You kicked a leg up hitting him in the ribs. Logan’s claws extended, stabbing you in forearm. You widened your eyes at the three blades puncturing your skin, glaring up at him. You scratched up at him with your razor sharp nails, gashing his tank top and skin. He chuckled out, looking at his blood momentarily. You pushed him away, pulling his blades from your arm.

Your jaw hung open as you stared at him. A shit eating grin on his face. “Wade may be scared of you, but I’m not. I will kick your geriatric ASS,” you dove toward him, cutting at his legs with your hands. Ripping and tearing his jeans as you slashed at his flesh. Logan growled in pain before stabbing you in the back and picking you up over his head. Throwing you onto the ground. You were quick to hop back up to your feet. You caught your breath shaking off the pain you felt. Writhing slightly.

You darted back over to him, kicking at his leg causing him to fall to his knee. You then jumped and kicked him with both feet, throwing him onto his back. “Fuck!” He cursed at you. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you began punching him. You watched as his nose broke just to heal right in front of you. A cocky grin written on your face as Logan’s eyes stared into yours. Almost as if he was enjoying you on top of him. His arm flexed as he stabbed his claws into your thigh. You bared your teeth at him screaming in pain, “Motherfucker!” He lifted his other fist, releasing the claws right in front of your nose. “I’d hate to mess up that pretty face of yours, doll,” he teased. Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. Unable to deny how quickly his pet name went to your core. He slashed his claws down your chest, ripping your shirt.

You crawled off him, attempting to get away. “If you wanted to see my boobs that bad you could’ve just asked!” you playfully called back to him. He chased after you on all fours. You threw one of your small knives into his shoulder attempting to slow him down. He grabbed you by the ankle. Falling forward and smashing your jaw into the dirt. You tussled with him, kicking and swatting with claws. Cutting up his arms and shoulders as he tried to pull you back. Bruising strength as his fingers dug into your skin. His eyes were black as he stared at you, a lustful grin on his lips. He jumped forward pinning your body underneath his.

You shared in your panting. His claws dug into the dirt beside your head, the necklace he wore dangling in your face. Sweat beamed on both your bodies. Both of you bearing your teeth at each other. Your panting mouth slowly morphing into a grin, throwing your head back against the dirt stretching out your neck with a sigh. He cocked an eyebrow at you, your eyes darting back to meet his. He leaned down planting a feverish kiss on your lips. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepened it. He pulled his claws from the dirt, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling your fronts flush. Sloppy kisses being exchanged between you, teeth clanking together.

Logan leaned back on his knees, holding you in his arms. “You sure do know how to fight, doll,” he cooed as his eyes stared at your chest. “Yeah? You ain’t too bad for a 200-year-old geezer,” you smirked. Logan grinned, raising an eyebrow at your mockery. One of his hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing at it as pushed you back slightly, “You and Wade sure do have one thing in common. Never knowing how to shut your fucking mouths.” You gasped with his hand on your jugular, smiling widely at him. “I definitely like your mouth a lot better,” he leaned in planting a kiss on your lips. Releasing his grip and pushing your hair out of your face. You caught your breath, hooded eyes staring into his hazel ones. His fingers petted through your hair, “Couldn’t stand to see you on top of him like that. Him having his little fucking hands on you.”

You had no idea Logan had felt this way about you. Sure there was flirting, but that was in your nature. You flirted with everyone, you assumed Logan was playing along. Catching him staring at you from time to time. Him lingering in your doorway before you headed into your apartment. Occasional pet names.

“Ooo, Mr. Jealousy,” you teased. He smirked above you. Leaning down and pressing his lips to your throat, sharp canines grazing as he lapped and sucked your skin. You tangled one of your hands in his hair, holding his head in place as he kissed your skin. Gentle moans falling from your lips. His lips trailed to your ear, “Sounds so pretty.” He pulled your lobe between his teeth. He had marked up your entire neck with hickeys and bite marks.

“Gotta make sure when we get back, Fucko knows to keep his hands off you,” Logan purred in your ear. Every inch of your skin was red hot. Arousal decorating your senses as you stared at the man before you. His hardening cock pressing into you through his jeans. You ran your hands down his chest, pulling a softness from him you had not yet seen. Hooking your fingers under his tattered shirt, lifting it over his head and leaving his chest exposed. Glistening torso with some of the firmest abs you had ever seen, hair on every inch. Admiring his body, fingers dancing delicately on the hair on him. Trailing down to his v-line, fingertips finding the cold metal of his large belt buckle.

Logan pulled your lips to his, kissing you like a touch starved man. Hunger painting his movements, teeth grazing your lip. His fingers tangled in your hair holding you so that your lips would not leave his. One hand ghosting down your side, going up under your shirt. Loving how your soft skin contrasted his corse fingers. Finding their place on your breasts, massaging them with his large hands. Pinching at the thin material of your bra, feeling your hardening nipples. You moaned into his mouth with his touch.

Your lips moved down to his neck, nipping at his flesh. Pulling a deep chuckle from him. A soft moan fell from his lips as yours worked down to his clavicle. His hand guided your chin upward, pulling your lips back to his. Fingers finding the button on your pants, undoing them and placing his hand down the front. Fingers massaging your lips, feeling your arousal glisten on his fingers. “Mmm, you’re so wet, baby doll,” he grinned widely. Your body rutted when he dipped his fingers into you. His name a moan from your throat. Thick fingers curled and massaged your insides, his thumb circling your clit.

You dug your fingers into his back as he continued edging you closer and closer. The tips of your claws penetrating his skin, a wince falling from him. “Easy, sweetheart,” Logan cooed. You mumbled sorry, focusing to retract your claws. One of your hands found its way to his bulge. Palming at his hard cock. Logan moaned at your touch, eyes black with lust as his heavy brow stared at you. You smirked, still a complete mess with his fingers inside you. You tugged at the waist of his pants. Pulling a smile from him.

“You wanna see my cock that bad?”

Electricity flooded every inch of your body with his words. “If I say yes will you fuck me?” You smirked at him. A wide grin painted his face. Raising an eyebrow with your words, leaning in to plant a kiss on you. “Mouth,” he jokingly called you between kisses.

Abruptly pulling his hand from your core and pushing you onto your back. You huffed when you hit the hard dirt. Eyes widening at him. Large hands finding the waist of your pants, pulling them down your legs. Ripping your panties off with them leaving your soaked core bare to the air. Legs shaking with anticipation for him. Logan stared at your core, tongue darting out to wet his lips at the sight. Unable to control himself, delving down and immediately flattening his tongue against your core. You arched your back at the sudden sensation. Grinding your hips against his tongue. Lapping at your entrance like it was his last meal.

Climax building its way through every inch of you as his tongue pressed into you. Heavy fingers digging into your thighs. Deep hazel eyes looking up at you from your hips. The look of him pushing you over the edge. Orgasm washing over you. Your body convulsing and heaving as waves of ecstasy engulfed you. Shouting Logan’s name to the sky.

“There ya go, good girl,” Logan encouraged pulling away from your sensitive opening. You leaned your head back, squinting your eyes shut as waves of aftershock washed over you. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the ground pulling your attention back to him. And what a sight it was. Logan’s large cock curved upward right in front of you. A large vein popping out on the underside, the tip swollen and red and leaking with pre-cum, a bundle of hair decorating the area around it. A mouth watering image.

Logan snickered seeing you slack jawed staring at him. Fucking him with your eyes. Hands finding their place on the ground next to either side of your head, cock pressing at your entrance. All that was left of his clothes was that damn necklace. Chain dangling in your face as you admired the handsome, sweat soaked man.

Large hand positioning himself at your entrance, head delving into your walls slightly. Pulling a moan from you. Swirling the tip around causing your body to quiver, pussy still sensitive from your prior orgasm. Even just the tip stretched you as he pressed into you slowly. Soft groans falling from you.

“C‘Mon, I know you can take it,” Logan purred easing himself into you. You squinted your eyes as his cock begged to pry you open. The girth making you fear he’d rip you open. Fully sheathing himself inside your tight walls. His face contorting in absolute pleasure. Adjusting around his girth, thick cock stretching you perfectly. Logan eased his way back before thrusting back in. With each snap of his hips you moaned. Finding a fast pace in you, panting heavy above you.

You leaned forward placing your lips back to his. Tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Exchanging spit as you licked into each other. Teeth hitting as you deepened the kiss. Hands exploring up his chest, dancing up his toned body. Resting on his cheeks. Lust filled eyes staring into each other as he continued inside you. Slack jawed and breathing heavy.

“Perfect pussy,” Logan growled above you. Thumbs caressing his cheeks. A knot building up inside you that begged to come undone around his large cock. Feeling your walls constrict around him as he thrusted. Each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

“Gonna fill you up, doll. Gonna be so full of me,” Logan panted into your ear. His back straightened as one of his hands found its place on your throat. A minor squeeze of flesh between rough fingers. Eyes rolling back into your head as you felt yourself preparing to finish. Thrusts grew sloppy and harsh, sounds of skin smacking together filled the air. Balls smacking into you with each heavy movement. His name spilled from you as you climaxed around him. Logan moaned loudly feeling how you squeezed him. Milking his cum from him. Shooting hot ropes of himself inside you. Hips rutting as he filled you full of his seed.

He remained inside you, feeling the way your pussy still wrapped around him. Occasional squeeze of walls from aftershock. Feeling him go soft inside you. Both of you wincing at the loss of sensation when he pulled out. Catching your breath as Logan helped with your pants. You sat up, admiring him as he got dressed. Logan looked over his shoulder, grinning as he caught you staring. Extending a hand to you and helping you to your feet, pulling you flush against his chest. Hand petting your hair as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. Silently smiling back and forth.

“So who won?” You joked. Logan rolled his eyes, “Don’t push your luck, doll.” You giggled at his response. Logan wrapped an arm around you as you both headed out of the woods. Loving the warmth of his body next to yours.

“Next time I won’t be leaving,” Wade’s cocky grin met you between the trees. Logan gritted his teeth. He stood with both hands on his hips watching the two of you walk toward him in your ripped and blood stained clothes. “Sounded like you guys were really going at it on the ground there. Sounded just like when I’d catch mommy and daddy having their weekly wrestling matches,” Wade raised his eyebrows. Your eyes darted up at his. Wade caught sight of the purple marks on your neck, laughing. “I didn’t know X-Men training gave you bruises on your neck too!” Wade cackled to himself. Wiping a fake tear from his eye as he sucked in a breath. “When’s it my turn for that kind of training, Y/N?”

You both ignored him, walking past him. You gave a good punch to his stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Wade hunched over coughing. Logan leaned down whispering in Wade’s ear, “Jealousy looks good on you, bub.” Dropping a heavy elbow onto his head knocking him to the ground.

Logan hurried his steps to catch up with you, walking beside you as you headed out of the forest. Exchanging smiles as you walked home together.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I really love the response people had to the idea of this Fic so I’m more than happy to write it! If anyone has requests for Logan or any other characters, send them my way! If you are interested in being tagged in any future Fics, let me know! //

[tags]

@toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @megangovier ~ @darklover06 ~ @castle-of-ruin ~ @akumazwrld ~ @ravenn-darkholme ~ @laweona510 ~ @ivyinthesun ~ @eddiesguitarskills ~ @amandarobertsboyce ~ @urmom02 ~ @ilove-sexydilfsnmilfs ~ @yesi22 ~ @orangehairedbrat ~ @l0sercat ~ @introvertreader20 ~ @shoxji ~ @gingerplague ~ @porflenet

[ninibeingdelulu]

Crawling back to you

synopsis-> His new concubine start to slowly become an obsession for him

The dimly lit chamber is thick with the heady aroma of sandalwood and smoldering embers casting their flickering amber glows across ornately gilded walls.

You kneel demurely before the towering entity that is the indominable King of Curses with a tray of succulent fruits balanced precariously in your lap.

Despite the dozens of lithe, scantily-clad courtesans draped across plush cushions surrounding Sukuna's imposing throne, not a single one possesses the capability to enrapture his full, unadulterated interest like you.

He attempts schooling his expression into one of practiced aloofness yet finds his scrutiny involuntarily drinking you in from the corner of his periphery.

The modest way loose tendrils of obsidian tresses fall around your delicately sculpted features...How those full lips part just enough to reveal a glimpse of glistening teeth worrying your lower pout while plucking a ripe persimmon free...

Even the flutter of those thick, sooty lashes framing those eyes as you peek up through them with an achingly sweet naivete.

Something viscerally primal stirs low in Sukuna's abdomen each instance your gazes accidentally lock - simultaneously thrilling yet inexplicably vexing him to the core.

He shouldn't find any fascination or particular novelty in your obvious purity and fragility, should he? After all, you pose no formidable threat to one who has mercilessly throttled nations with nary a conscious thought.

Yet he cannot prevent those four obsidian-tipped limbs from imperceptibly tightening with the overwhelming compulsion to simply...take you right there.

To lash out and possess every scant inch until the searing brand of his essence remains molten and permanently etched into your very marrow.

Maybe then you'd no longer exude such blinding radiance capable of rooting him in place like some pathetic, feeble-willed human wretch.

Every sinew instinctively coils rigid when your delicate fingertips drift upwards to present that glistening persimmon temptingly close.

Except your feather-light caress doesn't retreat once his lips part to accept your offering.

Instead, the pad of your thumb ghosts across his bottom lip with a tenderness and reverence he finds utterly transfixing.

And just like that, the last thread of rigid control over his carnal urges combusts instantaneously.

Sukuna's vision fractures into a million shards of ruby as your hopelessly innocent proximity suddenly consumes his restraint whole.

"Get out..." The abdominal maw snarls in a guttural rasp now utterly stripped of his usual controlled veneer.

Every talon-like fingernail hollows razor-deep grooves into the armrests flanking his throne when you instinctively flinch back with those dewy irises rounded in terror.

"Now."

The massive chamber remains utterly frozen until you scramble backwards on hands and knees finally fleeing his presence.

Only then does Sukuna finally permit himself to surrender - lifting a single beckoning digit to numbly brush across the very spot your captive touch seared straight through his exterior not a moment prior.

What sacrilegious witchcraft have you entangled him within?

This unfathomable compulsion to simultaneously profane and protect?

He's the almighty King of Curses - feared and reviled across every realm. Yet a solitary brush of your chaste fingertips against his mouth threatens to dismantle every staunch defense he's meticulously crafted over centuries of brutality and indiscriminate annihilation...

Head bowing forward until his pallid death mask cracks in a bitter sneer, Sukuna releases a blustering huff of mirthless derision directed solely at his own lamentable weakness.

Loathing how you've wormed your way beneath his armor so effortlessly with scarcely any intent whatsoever.

He vows to purge this infuriatingly inexplicable yearning to possess your radiance before it blossoms into something...darker. Something treacherous...

For both your sakes...

[2-dsimp]

Yandere clown humiliates your mean ex and makes you laugh

[Y̾AͣN̾TͭOͦB𞀓EͤRͬ DͩAͣY̾ 5 Iͥmͫaͣg̾iͥn̾eͤ: K̾iͥl̾l̾eͤrͬ Cͨl̾oͦw𞀞n̾ f̾tͭ!]

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

Cw: suggestive! Cannibalism, possessive/obsessive tendencies, Pyrok hates your ex-boyfriend and wants to eat him.

Synopsis: All you wanted was an antique doll from the antique store that was down the road from your home. But instead you get a murderous alien killer clown doll instead. With a long line of history for being known as the boogeyman who terrorized the districts of Devildom centuries ago.

•:•.•:•.••:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:

Thinking about a yandere Killer Clown! that was hexed by a powerful mage centuries ago for going on a killing spree. Cannibalizing the townsfolk like the neighborhood boogeyman. Within Devildom and leaving a trail of gnawed bones and flesh.

Yandere Killer Clown! Cursed to be a doll, with his alien features wiped from his face so he’d be looking like a blank faced mannequin. While his features were transferred onto the plate masks of varying expressions adorning his hip belt. To be kept under lock n key, shipped straight to an antique shop. Where he laid wasting away for centuries with only a mean grudge to his name. Until you came and bought the box out of curiosity.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who at first plays pretend when you open the box. Remaining dead in his doll form just to get a picture of who exactly his new owner was. And whether or not he should kill you and run away now that he’s been freed. There were many nights where he had his blank face jutted down at you.

Sitting on your chest as you breathed whilst his porcelain hand pressed against his mask which shifted into a ravenous expression. Razor teeth jutting out, with a long tongues slithering from the bottomless hole within the masks holes. Eyes boring into you, Always waiting for a chance of when you’d neglect him. Or forget to shine his porcelain body and dress him up in his favorite frills everyday. Any excuse to get rid of you but so far there was nothing.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who after a couple weeks, grew too comfortable being hugged and fawned over in his stay with you. He always wore his happy mask when he was in your presence. However, every time you left and came back you noticed how his mask switched from happy to angry.

The masks soulless eyes seemed to be glaring at you with intensity as if knowing whatever sin you committed to warrant the clowns wrath. Yeah he knew all about that wretched ex boyfriend you kept going on and off with. And it made his hollowed brain rattle violently with murderous and envious thoughts.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who became a touch more realer with every laugh he coaxed from you lips. Whether it be by his switch up in masks. (which always left you with whiplash from how it was even possible for him to do that.) Or from his out of context voice lines that had a morbid humorous edge with insults for your ex-boyfriend.

“Tiny pecker, Tiny pecker, Exy has a tiny pecker! Chop it off, lest it don’t grow any bigger!”

The past few days you could never find peace as strange things had started happening around you. More specifically with the clown doll, every time you went to polish him he felt colder than usual. And his edgy joints were less prominent with a softer more flexible edge. The kicker was that whenever you’d go to sleep. You’d always feel something breathing on you. But you chalked it up to an air drift from the window you cracked open.

Yandere Killer Clown! Who is garbling ancient enchantments via mask. Which enabled him to have an outlet to express himself. As his pointed claws surgically traced his signature sigil on your chest. the happy mask’s manic grin started growing eerily wider. At seeing the reddened glow of his brand on you. Which made the bond you two shared to be completely permanent.

This new status would allow him much more freedom. To battle against the croons curse which had limited his former self. However, it was incomplete, it was one sidedly done after all. So he needed you to do the same onto him.

You needed to Let him in.

Thanks to your intervention in his life there was so much he wanted to do. First thing on the list would be getting rid of that old croon’s curse on his body once and for all. The second would be eliminating that ex boyfriend of yours.

And lastly…Having you to be his brood mother to repopulate his alienkind of was also one of his goals. After all you were the perfect fit. You’ve already shown such potential in being his mate, by tending to him everyday and night. He’d be sure to return the favor tenfold keep you well fed, protected, and cherished.

All you had to do was Let. Him. Inside of you.

——————/—————

A/n: Decided to make an attempt on doing spooky yantober entry XD

Lmk if y’all would want to see more of him. 👀

Also I think I’ve finally did all the yandere alphabet letters woohoo 🎉

[zarnzarn]

1/2/3/4

reverse Odyssey au where polites is still on the ships when Poseidon arrives, and that last bit is enough to push Odysseus to beg him to stop, to spare the men he spent ten long years fighting hard and bitter to save. 593 men is no less amount after all, not for a small island like Ithaca, only three generations old. he'll do anything, anything at all, blind him, torture him, kill him- just let his men go; they were not the ones to blame.

Poseidon considers, staring down at the king with the odd grey eyes that he knew the origin of. Athena would be furious, after all- so why not take away the one thing her favoured pet was known for?

the crew rushes towards their captain, their king, as shouting emerges from the other boats, as he hits the deck convulsing, grasping at his throat. the cries of his men rend the air as his legs melt into oceanspray, remerging as a fish's tail, Odysseus gasping for air wildly, his tongue a mess of mangled flesh on the main deck, unable to talk or breathe.

they have no choice but to pick him up and tip him into the sea, and they watch in horror as he falls beneath the waves and with a flick of the tail, disappears.

six hundred men chase their king down, following the odd silver glint that appears once in a while above the blue water, following the strange cursed monster that Elepnor sees when he falls drunk into the ocean one day. follow him all the way back to Ithaca, where the people gather on the shore to cheer their arrival.

telemachus is all of ten and untameable at the return of his father's ships, running past the guards and the priests to the dock, where the soldiers and heroes are all setting down the ramps, strangely quiet, unsmiling in the face of ten years of gore and bloodshed being done. Penelope catches up to him, laughing as she cranes her head up, scanning the ships to see which one- which one had-

she only has to time to see euroluchus' shame-filled tears and polites guilty devastation, feeling her heart slowly sink to the ground, when there's suddenly a splash and an outburst of screams and propped up on the dock is a man with a fish's tail and familiar curls and razor-sharp teeth and eyes that are solid grey. the soldiers cry out in horror and thunder down the ramps to them as the monster reaches out- and Penelope can't do anything, frozen, as it reaches out and places a webbed hand with deadly claws on her son's cheek, caressing almost; and her breath catches when it looks back up to her, and she knows the face as well as her own, knows the grief and fear and knows it is her husband-

Then the pounding footsteps from the closest ships and the guards behind reach them, and Penelope only has time enough to scream to stay their weapons, already shoving Telemachus behind her and reaching out to shield off any spears or arrows from battle-strung men who'd shoot first and ask questions later-

Instead she only feels the brush of cold skin under his fingertips for the briefest of moments and then she's caught up in a fisher's net, tangled and alone. More nets are thrown, men crying out for their captain with desperation and fear, Polites running straight past her and leaping off the dock to swim after him-

But her husband is a descendant of Hermes, and Odysseus is gone.

Penelope listens to the story that night and does not cry, sitting straight-backed in the face of her family sobbing around her, of the five hundred and ninety-three men staring at her with grief and guilt alike, of being the only widow in the kingdom. Pets Telemachus' wild hair and remembers his father's, and thinks.

"You have told me much," She says finally. "But I'm still to hear a single, solid plan."

The room rustles as all the heads swing to her.

"Plan?" Eurylochus says finally. Anger burns as soon she looks to him, but she pushes it down firmly- rage will not win her anything.

"Yes. A plan," she says, "To bring my husband back home."

Telemachus unfolds at her feet and stares up at her with a hopeful grin, echoed slowly on the faces of the men around the room. Penelope smiles back.

"My husband spent ten years fighting for his people to make it back home," She proclaims. "Let's wait at least that long before we give up on him, yes?"

The answering cheer shakes the walls of the palace and echoes through the streets of Ithaca.

[waitforyrlove]

slytherin ! matt catches reader in his room after losing a bet.

PART TWO.

you curse yourself for agreeing to this ridiculous bet. It had seemed like harmless fun at the time, something to get your friends off your back about always playing it safe. But now, standing outside the threshold of the Slytherin common room, you question every decision that’s led you here.

the heavy stone wall slides shut behind you, leaving you in the dimly lit space that exudes an unsettling elegance. Green light filters through the lake’s murky waters outside the windows, casting long shadows across the plush sofas and polished floors. Every creak beneath your feet feels deafening in the eerie quiet.

your heart pounds. You’re not supposed to be here. And yet, the terms of the bet were clear: sneak into Matt’s space and return with proof. A book, a quill or anything to show you’d been there.

you’d lost the game, and now here you are.

the room smells faintly of aged leather and something crisp, like winter air. You tread carefully, trying to make out which door might lead to the boys’ dormitory. Somewhere above you, the faint sound of laughter echoes—probably from students lingering in the upper common room.

you’re halfway across the room when a voice freezes you in your tracks.

“Planning to redecorate, are we?”

you spin around so fast you nearly trip over your own feet. Matt leans against the far wall, his green-and-silver tie undone, his robes draped casually over one shoulder. His eyes glint with amusement, but his smirk is razor-sharp.

“What—what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says, pushing off the wall and taking a lazy step toward you. His tone is light, but there’s an edge to it, like a cat toying with a mouse. “This doesn’t seem like your scene, sweetheart.”

you resist the urge to back away as he closes the distance between you, though your pulse is thrumming in your ears. “I was just—uh—looking for something.”

“Looking for something,” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t believe you for a second. “Let me guess: your houses tradition? Break into the Slytherin common room and hope you don’t get caught?”

you flinch. He’s far too close now, his presence making the space feel smaller. His dark green jumper clings to his broad shoulders, and you can’t help but notice the faint, woodsy scent that clings to him.

“No..” you say, a little too quickly. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it like?” he asks, crossing his arms. The amusement is still there, but his tone is sharper now, his gaze probing. “Careful how you answer, love. You’re already on thin ice.”

you hesitate, weighing your options. Lying to him feels impossible under his scrutiny. His eyes seem to see straight through you, as though he already knows why you’re here and is just waiting for you to admit it.

finally, you sigh. “Fine. It’s a bet, okay?” you admit, crossing your arms defensively. “I lost a bet, and now I’m here. Happy?”

his smirk widens, “I’m ecstatic. Go on, then. What’s the dare? Break into my dorm? Steal my favorite book? Something embarrassing, I hope.”

“Just… find something that proves I was here,” you mutter, your cheeks burning.

Matt’s laugh is low and warm, but there’s something dangerous about it. “You’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Can I go now?” you ask exasperated.

“Not so fast,” He steps even closer, until you can feel the heat radiating off him. “You think you can just waltz in here, invade my space, and leave without consequences?”

“What do you mean, consequences?”

he tilts his head, pretending to think. “I could report you, you know. Breaking into the Slytherin common room? That’s grounds for a nice, long chat with the fuckin’ professors.”

“Matt, come on—”

“Or,” he interrupts, a glint of mischief in his eyes, “we could make our own bet.”

“What kind of bet?”

“I’ll let you off the hook—no detention, no tattling to your head of house—but you owe me. I haven’t decided what yet, but when I do, you’ll agree. No arguments.”

you hesitate, weighing your options. The alternative—a full-blown scandal and possible expulsion—isn’t exactly appealing.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “Deal.”

“Gooood girl,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. He steps back, giving you just enough room to breathe, though his eyes never leave yours.

“Oh, and one more thing,” he adds, his smirk deepening. “If you’re ever stupid enough to pull a stunt like this again… don’t expect me to be so fucking forgiving just like I was.”

with that, he turns and saunters off toward the dormitory stairs, leaving you standing there, equal parts relieved and humiliated.

as you make your way back to your own common room, you can’t help but feel that somehow, you’ve just lost another bet.

this was nowhere close to ending.

© waitforyrlove. all rights deserved. do not copy my works. or modify my work.

taglist: @secretlocket @pearlzier @et6rnalsun @mattscoquette @carvedtits @sirenedeslily @mattslolita @flouvela @bella-loveschris @lovingregulusblack @sarosfilms @annsx03 @eliana-4200 @wakeupitschrizz @emely9274 @sturniolossss @sturnioloangell

˙ . ꒷ 🪽 notes from author˙— giggles, giggles..

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (03)

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The next chapter will take me much longer to finish and post because I have to go back to uni 😭🔫.

Warning: cursing, blood

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut ; bisexual!Reader

02 <- 03 -> 04

Masterlist

Taglist

It’s fucking hurt. The warmth that had been spreading through your lower belly, enveloping your body, was shattered by a sharp pain pulsing in your head.

Disoriented, you struggled to grasp what was happening. One moment, you were lost in a fantasy of frosted berries, honey, and Todoroki, and the next, someone had slammed you against the wall. The look in his eyes made it clear—he was ready to tear you apart.

It wouldn’t be hard for him to do that, with those teeth. You had never noticed them looking so sharp before. On TV, Red Riot always came across as the friendliest hero, his wide grin and bright eyes inviting trust. He was always ready to lighten the mood with his jokes and loud laugh, the hero who went out of his way to help civilians with their everyday tasks. Everyone who met him had a soft spot for him—he truly was a vision of strength and kindness.

But now, under the glare of his red eyes, his fists clenched tightly around your collar, none of that friendliness remained. His rage was palpable, you could feel it in the way his grip tightened with every passing second, the way his chest heaved with each furious breath.

He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, and you were the target of all that fury. His lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing those razor-sharp teeth. They weren’t just sharp, they were brutal, lethal and merciless. Red Riot wasn’t just ready to beat you up—he looked like he wanted to rip you apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left. The once-kind, soft-hearted hero was gone, replaced by a tsunami of anger and violence, ready to unleash it all on you.

You knew how bad this whole situation looked—being caught with your hands on a claimed Omega (in heat) by one of his packmates was always a good enough reason for them to beat your ass. But this wasn’t the case, was it? No, it wasn’t, and you were ready to tell Red Riot so. So you tried to explain yourself quickly, to not give more time for his rage to boil over.

“Red Riot, I know it looks bad, but I swear, as a doctor, I was…” Your words hurriedly left your mouth, trying to defend yourself, but before you could finish your sentence, you felt his fist land straight into your face.

You were thrown to the ground. The pain from earlier was nothing compared to this. Blood spilled out of your nose and mouth, and you could swear you heard the sickening crack of your nose breaking under his blow. Now it really fucking hurt. Fat tears ran down your face, mixing with blood.

Red Riot didn’t want any explanation, he asked for one, but he wasn’t interested in hearing it. Fear crawled down your spine as sobs of pain and horror escaped your mouth, your vision spinning as you tried to look up at him, still uncertain of what just happened. Breaking your nose didn’t calm him down, and by the way he clenched his fist, you knew he was ready to strike again.

You barely heard Todoroki’s frantic shout, calling for Red Riot, but you did notice the putrid smell of rotten berries, rotting mango, and the sharp sourness of passion fruit beneath the thick metallic scent of your own blood. For one second, your eyes flicked to Todoroki, but your attention was stolen by Red Riot. You saw his muscles harden, flesh turning into stone. It was as if the storm surrounding him had solidified, and you were trapped inside it, powerless, unable to escape. Fighting back seemed pointless in the moment, you didn’t know if you’d even stay conscious if he hit you again.

But then, Todoroki’s second attempt at calling out for Red Eiot broke through the storm. His call cut through the tension like a knife and the angry hero’s focus shifted for an instant, his rage momentarily distracted.

“Shoto, are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t come—“ His voice was thick with worry and panic.

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. You scrambled to your feet and bolted out of the room, running for your life. Your legs propelled you forward, carrying you as fast as they could. You didn’t know if Red Riot was following, and you were too terrified to look back and find out. Your vision blurred as you crashed into a medical cart outside an open room, sending its contents flying across the floor but you didn’t care, you couldn’t stop to apologize and put it back together. You couldn’t stop at all. All you could do was run.

The hallways blurred past as you sprinted, your mind a panicked mess of fear and pain. The sharp sting of your broken nose, the blood dripping onto your clothes, the pounding in your skull—it all became a distant haze as you focused on one thing: escape. You didn’t even know how you managed to find the locker room, but somehow, your trembling hands found yours locker and you grabbed your bag and car keys as fast as possible, ignoring the confused stares of the people nearby.

You sprinted toward the parking lot, and when you finally reached it, you were gasping for air, tears still streaming down your face. Your legs felt like jelly, but you kept moving, stumbling toward your car. You shoved the door open with urgency. Once inside, your hands were shaking so badly that starting the engine felt impossible. You twisted the key over and over, your heart pounding, until the car finally roared to life.

You slammed your foot on the gas and sped out of the parking lot, reckless, your mind spinning, with no care for speed limits. All that mattered was getting as far away from that place, from him, as possible.

Is this shorter than usual? I can’t really tell. I think this chapter technically has more words than the last one, though. Anyway, I know Bakugo is usually the angry, "violent" guy in fics, but I’ve always thought Kirishima would beat someone into the ground if they ever took advantage of his partner. Plus, I always felt like fics were lacking people getting their asses beat.

So, I thought, let’s beat the reader’s ass!

I guess this is the end of the prologue. After this, we’re entering the “real” story, and we’ll meet the rest of the pack (not right away, but you get the idea). I’ll also have more room to explore the reader's personality. So far, all we’ve really seen is her being professional, confused, horny, and scared 😭.

Do any of you even read these author notes? It’s okay if I’m just talking to myself here. I always like the sound of my voice (well, my writing here, but you get it).

Criticisms are always welcome !

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

02 <- 03 -> 04

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld

[pedge-page]

Maybe Preggo needs a pedicure? Or help shaving??

how about both!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Spa Day

Warnings: thigh fucking, some degrading language, a bit of m masturbation, use of razors to shave, Daddy/Mommy used lightly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel is sitting on the edge of the tub as you prop your calf over his thigh. His heavily pregnant wife has her hair in a turban, green minty mud mask slopped over your face. You’re leaned back so far trying to spread your legs that your chin is just right above the soapy waterline. 

“I told you, you need to get IN the tub to shave my ass.”

Joel’s got your fancy scented shaving cream and a 5 blade razor in one hand, his trousers soaked from suds and bath water as you continue to squirm around trying to get comfortable. This whole ordeal is taking way longer because he doesn’t want to accidecanlly knick you, but you keep moving without forewarning him!

“I don’t understand,” he huff for the third time. “Why do I need to shave your pussy and ass, if you’re getting a PEDICURE?”

Did feet spa evolve into something that he wasn’t aware of?

“You don’t. But I haven’t shaved in a long time and I need my legs shaved for my pedicure. And while I’m at it, might as well do the whole thing.”

“You mean, while I’M at it.”

“Yes exactly!” you say, all giddy that he’s finally getting it now.

He leans back to get a view of where he might be working between your legs.

“It’s all soap. I can’t see a thing.”

You roll your eyes and throw your leg off him. His shirt wrinkles from the soapy fingers that grip it tightly as you pull him down to you. So much so that he’s lurching for the other end of the tub to hold himself from tumbling in.

“Get. In. The. Tub.” You seethe. Why is it so fucking difficult?

He purses his lips, but your eyes don’t back down.

Joel curses under his breath before sitting and stripping his shirt over his head.

You do little hand claps, licking your lips as if you’re getting a tasty treat. Forgetting that this is entirely a different kind of treatment.

 As he shucks off his pants and boxers, now fully naked with his semi hard cock dangling between his legs, you tap your clit and whisper “Settle down, girl,” in hopes of trying to be a good client to your free-worker husband.

Joel clambers in the tub, hissing at the heat of the water. For someone who wants the AC blowing like a winter wonderland in the house, it amazes him that you’re still good with bathing in lava.

He sits his knees up, crammed in such a terribly awkward position since he’s got to get down low. Thankfully the tub is big enough for the two of you to face each other.

“Spread,” he orders you, and you have to clench your fist by your side, easing your nub to stop jumping so excitedly underwater from his voice. You do your best to drape your ankles over the sides of the tub, your lower back comforted by the tub-pillow that Joel had bought you.

The razor glints in his veiny paw. “Daddy has sharp tools in his hand. Are you gonna behave?”

You nod vigorously. 

He aligns himself as close as possible, pushing the bubbles away so he can see under the water. Even with your bump in the way, it’s already difficult to see straight down to the source of your turmoil. His hands gently caress your inner thighs, getting a feel for his working area the same way he does for any detailed project he’s about to take on. Joel got such steady, careful movements when it comes to his craft, but having him look at you like a piece of valuable wood he’s about to carve a beautiful rose into is making you wet in a different way.

He dips the razor below the water and begins to shave away the hair that had been growing between your thighs, over top and around, before making his way to your slit. 

“Isn’t there a better way to do this?” He asks. He’s hesitant, not because he doesn’t think he can do it, but because he doesn’t trust your sporadic brain possibly jumping on him and cutting yourself. 

“Probably,” you snicker. 

He puffs his cheeks but gets back to work, trimming your front neatly in slow movements. If he just focuses entirely on your folds, the slippery traces of your juices evident even through the sudsy water, he can just keep his eyes from drifting up to your bouncing enormous breasts floating happily above.

“Alright, that’s the best I can get. Your ass is just gonna have to…”

You’re already moving like a hippo in the shallows, sloshing the water around as you roll over to your knees and sit up. Your pregnant belly sags heavily towards the water. But you manage to prop your arms over the edge and wiggling your naked butt to him.

He pinches his eyes together with his finger and thumb. THIS is why he didn’t want to get in the tub. Was it over you hurting yourself? A little. Doing reckless shit like this with a baby who could bump its head into the basin? Possibly. 

Having to now sit up to shave your ass, baring his hard cock close enough to you that he won’t be able to keep you placate if you were to turn around?

Yeah.

“C’mon, baby can’t dangle like this all day,” you hum. You sway your hips again enticingly.

You don’t expect the sharp slap to jolt you forward a bit, a gasp falling from your lips as the sound echoes in the bathroom.

You feel his stomach and chest drape over your back, his hot breath steaming over your shoulder. “Told you,” he grumbles. “To behave.” His large hand caress below your bump, helping to hold some of the weight while his other fists his cock and slides its between your thighs.

You bite your lip and moan lightly, eyes closed as he rocks you back and forth on his dick. He doesn’t penetrate, just glides through your thighs, all soapy while his tip nudges your clit each time it punctures through to the other side.

You’re both so wet over each other, warm and dizzy from the steam of the room as he fucks your slit. 

“Just don’t know when to be a good girl.” 

You shake your head. On the contrary, you know EXACTLY when to be a bad girl. 

“Daddy, put it in,” you whine. You can’t take your hands away from the edge of the tub, less you slip and tumble down due to the weight of your baby. 

You feel the rumble of his chest, laughing at your demands. “Bad Mommies don’t get cock up their slutty cunts—“

His voice goes quiet when you arch your back and wail out in pleasure, your clit twitching and thighs quaking with the unmistakable sign of your orgasm washing through you. 

Joel sits back as you heave through your pants. 

“Wow. That was… you needed that, Huh?”

You slowly roll over to you butt safely on the tub floor again, hazily nodding as you come to your senses. You begin to notice Joel’s fist pumping his cock underwater, fully okay with just jerking off as he watches your naked pregnant body covered in soap and dripping wet like a goddess.

“Your turn,” you hum, and Joel grins, parting his legs slightly as you crawl close to him. 

He’s not ready for the super human strength you have when you hoist on of his ankles up in the air, pulling him down until his head dips under water.

 He struggles up and sputters out the nasty taste he inhaled through his nose. “What??”

Joel wipes the soap and water from his eyes and slicks his hair back to see you with a razor in one hand and a deathgrip around his ankle in the other.

“You should shave too. Its just courtesy since they’ll be touching your crusty feet, plus when they put the moisturizer and hot towel and stones on your legs, it won’t get all stuck up in your hair—“

“WHAT are you on about? I’m not getting the pedicure. YOU are!”

But your eyes get all (fake) shiny with (fake) tears, you’re lower lip trembling with a (fake) pout. “You mean,” you hiccup, your voice soft and sad and FUCK if it were anyone else, you’d have them convened with an Oscar worth performance, “you don’t wanna… do it … with me?” 

He’s not falling for it. “That’s Maria’s thing with you.”

Your voice goes straight in a matter of fact tone, foregoing the sad pregnant hormonal voice. “Actually she and Tommy are taking trip up north so she canceled this weekend.”

Joel curses Tommy in his mind for letting such an important detail slip his mind. “Mhm. So I’m her substitute.”

“NooOoo! You’re my husband and you want to do this with me because you love spending time with me!”

Joel narrows his eyes. His cock twitches helplessly between his legs, and it doesn’t seem like you’re inching to give him a hand.

“Now hold still, Mommy has sharp tools in her hands. Wouldn’t want any accidents.”

Your fingers that are wrapped around his foot slowly glaze along his thigh, down below the water, tickling his skin until you’re oh so close to his inner thigh. tensing, he feels your knuckles graze his length.

 And if you behave like a good Daddy, you’ll get your reward.” There’s a sadistic curl to your sweet little grin. 

Joel settles back and closes his eyes as you begin hacking off the forest on his calves. He tries sending a signal to his cock to get comfy, because there’s no way he’s squirming or making any movements while you’ve got a weapon in your hand. He opens one eye to see you happily shaving his legs, splashing water over top so it washes away his clear skin.

He decides he’ll let his little wife play in her sandbox. 

-

“Ow-OW-OWW!” Joel shouts. The technician huffs in frustration as he flicks his feet away from her for the 5th time.

You grip his bicep from the chair next to him. “Joel. Calm down. It’s just—“

“She’s cheese grating my feet!”

He’s squirming like a toddler who doesn’t like the feeling of shit up his ass, were it not for the fact that he’s a grown ass man just getting a pedicure. 

You shake your head. “It’s a pumice stone. To remove your calluses. You got so much dead skin on there, because you never come here when I tell you!”

“It’s a cheese grater, and she’s grating my feet off.”

His feet DID need a lot of work. They were dry, always scratching you in your sleep whenever you cuddle up. His legs did look shiny though, thanks to your hard work hunched over the tub shaving. It was the least you could do for the poor lady trying to tend to his hobbit feet.

When the placed the hot stones on your calves, you sighed happily. Joel’s eyes were wide, and when they touched his shins, he screamed.

You giggled under your hand. Yeah, he’s making an embarrassment of himself, shouting and cursing and squirming everywhere because he’s so sensitive. He probably thinks the rest of the women in here are laughing at him and his fragile manhood, his pregnant wife dragging him here to get a pedicure. But you see the looks on their faces, it’s a mix of awe and jealousy to have such a hunk of a man want to do something fun with his wife, so secure in his masculinity. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles.

He offers you his gritted teeth, lips pulled back as he tries to smile through the pain, all pressed back against the massage chair like he wants to fall behind it, holding in his next shout when she clips his cuticles. 

He’s getting his cock sucked so good tonight, you can’t wait to spoil him.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hello! I binged a lot of your Yautja fics over the last couple days, and I love Vic and Uihoy. However I've had an angst thought in my head about one day, Vic would be alone. The human reader has a much shorter lifespan, and Uihoy is much older. They'd both lose the reader first, but then Vic would lose Uihoy one day too. Despite him teasing Uihoy about his age, maybe something happens that reminds Vic that both of his partners will one day leave him. How does he react in this scenario???

Till All Are One

Character: Vic'tao (Male) x GN!Reader x Uihoy (Male)

Word Count: 3062

Summary: Throughout the years, you've given them the best of memories and new scars. Vic'tao never expected it to be so sudden. He doesn't know how to reel it in after everything he's been through.

Author Note: Okay... this actually made me cry. I gave this idea thoughts before in the past but never dwelled on it. BECAUSE they'll always have each other!

Masterlist

Ao3

Excitement vibrated through his blood. Each block and strike only caused his energy to spike higher and higher. The hunt always called to him. It would always call to a hunter.

A snarl exploded through his throat when his claws raked through skin and flesh. The beast gave a hearty cry and stumbled. It went head over end and slammed its back into the ground. A long divot in the ground was created when it slid a few feet. Then, it scrambled to get back onto its feet. The off yellow Yautja was on it before it could.

Two sharp blades rammed straight into soft tissue. A piercing roar that rumbled the ground and shook the trees exploded into the air. Vic’tao held on tightly. Black claws refusing to let the trophy escape from his grasp. He doubled down his efforts and skimmed the blades up the beasts furry torso. More black blood stained the leafy ground and himself. Vic’tao bathed in it then was promptly thrown off.

Pain exploded up his back when he slammed sideways into the trunk of a tree. A grunt pushed all the air out of the yellow Yautja’s lung. It left him dazed for a few precious moments. He was able to gain his bearings just to see the barreling form of the beast launching itself through the air. Vic’tao yelped a curse and barely had time to roll to the side.

Claws raked at his exposed flank. His own neon green blood spilling to add to the mixture.

Vic’tao spun around while on his hands and feet and narrowed his bright yellow eyes on it. The creature had its claws lodged into the trunk of a tree he once was pinned to. A smug smirk sprouted to life underneath his biomask. His dah'ktes are retracted back. Vic’tao pulled out his ki'cti-pa and expanded it to its full length.

Right as the beast unlogged its claws. Another curse fell from hunter’s mandibles. Vic’tao is forced back as the prey lunged at him again the moment it was free. An untamed wildness in its horizontal slit eyes. He wanted to claim it as his and hang it above the shared bed back on the ship. A gift he would give to his two mates.

Blood dribbled out of a new cut on his forearm. Immediately, his thoughts are brought back to the present. Dangerous, deadly fangs are aimed at his face. Vic’tao thrusts his ki'cti-pa into the beast’s open maw. It narrowly dodges the hit. The tip slicing at its cheek. It slithers its head to the side and latches onto the combistick in his hand.

The weapon is torn from his grip and crushed between teeth he nearly met. Anger washed over Vic’tao. Red, hot, burned through his veins as the treasured combistick is tossed to the side. His razor sharp dah'ktes slip out of their sheaths, slicing through the air. A deep bellow vibrated through his chest. His sight completely narrowed on the beast. He will kill it. He will skin it. He will take the skull. For Uihoy. For his treasure.

With a roar like howl, Vic’tao sliced through the air. As sharp as the blades on his arm. It didn’t had time to comphred the speed he extruded before its head lolled onto the ground. The body stayed upright, as if trying understand what had happened. Then, it dropped. Black blood soaking into the leaves and dirt ground.

Another bellow shook the very ground he stood on. Victory. Vic’tao’s chest heaved with each deep breath for the nitrogen and oxygen in the air. His eyes wide and snapped to every tiny movement or sound around him. But, he forced himself to ease into a calmer state and looked down at the head at his feet. With a huff, Vic leaned down and lifted it up. This thing nearly killed him. A story he could not wait to tell his mates back at the ship.

Waste couldn’t come to the body. By him lonesome, Vic’tao carved the richest of meat from various areas. The black meat was stored in a bag on his back. Safe and secure. The Yautja departed to let scavengers to take care of the rest he couldn’t carry or use.

By the time he arrived back at the ship, the sun had lowered itself in the sky. Pink and orange danced across the darkening sky. Vic’tao took a moment to look up and find the sight beautiful.

Once in sight of the ship, Vic’tao slowed his pace until coming to a stop. Tension filled the air in way that made his chest constrict. He almost lost his grip on the skull but his muscles tightened up. Vic’tao sprinted through the foliage and scrambled up the ship’s ramp.

All of his senses narrowed down on the strongest of his mates smell. His feet stumbled and nearly sent him flying into a wall. Vic’tao was barely able to catch himself in time to enter the shared bedroom.

In all of Uihoy’s glory, he was knelt down in the oval shape concave bed. The elder’s great head bowed.

The skull dropped at Vic’tao’s side. He took a tentative step forward. Then another. Until stood at the edge of the bed.

Wrapped in softest of furs was the ooman that wormed their way into their lives. Their eyes were closed. No movement. Their chest didn’t rise or fall.

He stumbled into the bed while ripping off his biomask and tossing the damned thing away. “No, no, no,” the hunter whispered and held his hands over your peaceful form. They shook.

A purple hand reached across and carded his fingers through Vic’taos. That brought the younger male’s attention up to his other mate. Tears prickled the corner of Vic’s dull yellow eyes. The life in them gone the moment yours left.

“Thi-this can’t be!” Words that further broke the elder’s heart. His fingers clenched Vic’s hand harder. “We… we had time.” There was plenty of time to spend their lives together. It felt like yesterday when they first met. This ooman that had carved their own space. Vic’tao… he wanted to go out and kill every creature he could lay his eyes on. Take all the lives. Because the love of his life was gone.

Even if he knew it would happen sooner rather than later. Ooman’s were fragile.

“Vic…” Uihoy trailed off at first. He didn’t know what to say in a moment like this. Your health had suddenly dipped without a moment’s notice. No amount of help from their advanced medicine would’ve saved you. Your suffering would’ve been prolonged. Uihoy couldn’t bear to see that, even if it meant for you to see Vic one last time. Your cries…

“I’m sorry. You… I couldn’t get ahold of you. They had suddenly just-“ Paya, it was difficult to get the words out. A male of great words couldn’t even tell his mate what happened. “Their health had taken a turn. It was sudden. I believe it was… organ failure. There was nothing I could do.”

Uihoy felt useless. With everything that Yautjas had, to save a ooman in a terrible moment wasn’t possible. The medicine they possess could do nothing. He had to watch their mate writhe and scream in pain until he put them out of their misery. Quality of life.

Immediately, Vic’tao’s head snapped over to the biomask discarded haphazardly to the side. His feet stomped across the metal floors. He swiped the metal off of the ground and forced it onto his face. With practice ease, he maneuvered to the incoming messages page.

Nothing.

A growl sounded from his throat. He zoomed into the settings. His heart dropped onto the floor. The notifications had been silenced. For the hunt. Automatically.

The mask was torn from his face and chucked into the nearest wall. It bounced off with a screech of metal and slide along the floors.  Vic’tao turned and slammed his fist into said wall. A sizable dent left in his wake. But, Vic’tao didn’t care. He wanted to tear apart everything in his path. How could… how could he let this happen? He would’ve abandoned the hunt at a moment’s notice he knew.

All he has left was when you wished him luck and to bring home a good trophy.

He brought home a trophy. But you weren’t able to see it.

Tears dripped down and wettened the floor. The aches and pains in his body reactivated, tearing open wounds. The blood stained the floor alongside salty tears.

Warm, coarse hands touched at Vic’tao’s tense shoulders. He jerked at the feeling of another then let the muscles go lax. Vic’tao’s head hung, eyes staring blankly at the metal floors. Blue-grey tresses curtained around him. It took every single ounce of will left over inside of him not to collapse into his mate’s arms and sob.

The purple Yautja guided him around to face him. A gentle hand tucked underneath Vic’tao’s jaw and picked up his head slightly. Just enough to see those dull eyes. A sight that broke Uihoy’s heart.

“Vic-“ Uihoy started.

“Don’t! I failed. I failed them. I failed you. I should’ve known. I should’ve sensed it,” Vic’tao put himself down and ripped away from Uihoy’s soft touches. Said male whimpered and let his arms fall to his sides. “I should’ve never left to go on that hunt!” You had wanted the meat and begged Vic’tao with those sweet eyes of yours to get it.

If only.

A tense quietness entered the air. Orange eyes stared at yellow and blue scales. Uihoy sighed and stepped back up to his mate. His thick arms encased Vic’tao’s waist. The male tensed up at first then turned around. His own arms latched onto Uihoy like a life line. He was all that Vic’tao had left in this word.

A tough exterior to the outside world. Once you break through, he’s one of the most loyal, softest, strongest people you’ll ever meet. Even after his heart is shattered by death.

.

Throughout the years, it did become easier. That strain on his heart weakened slowly but surely. Don’t get him wrong, he still is extremely heartbroken with their little mate’s passing. It still is heavy on his heart. But… he learned to live with it. That’s what made life just slightly easier. He kept you close. The trinkets you’ve created for them decorated them or their ship.

Held close to their hearts.

They had found a space among the planet you had passed on. Small, shrouded, but they learned when night fell. The spot lit up with rocks that reacted with the three moons above. Like its own stars.

Your body had been laid to rest and covered in a hole no creature would get to. The weapon you had created for him that was destroyed was placed as the marker. The one item he departed without. Everything else, despite it breaking, he kept it in the workshop area. Vic’tao never tried to fix them. They were left to their original state. The items you created with your bare hands.

Like no other day, both Yautjas find themselves deep within the brush. The breeze flushing into their face. Downward from their prey. Prey that could feed them for a while. A hunt for survival rather than another trophy to add to the wall.

Each Yautja adorned in their armor, biomask, and weapons glanced at each other. Their eyes hidden. But they knew. They somehow knew what the other was saying without a single word. A team that’s been together for two hundred years at least.

Uihoy moves first and pushes past the foliage that hides them from sight. His feet silent on the plain-like grounds. He’s the first to reach an old, hoofed creature. The information is relayed back to Vic’tao.

Said Yautja begins to stalk around in the same manner. His head on a swivel while going in from a different direction. To block off the way back into the herd. They had to drive it away from the rest of the herd. Far away enough the big buck won’t dare leave the others behind to save this one.

“In position,” Vic’tao whispers over the comm. system, eyes watching the lumbering giant feed. Muscles relaxed, tail swaying every once in awhile, head down. Uihoy gave a short response.

Each waited until the count of three.

Like coordinated hunters, they sprung from the underbrush, weapons at the ready. Uihoy drove his combistick into the brown, wiry hide of the creature. The sharp end slicing through its flesh like paper. It ended up in a spot after the ribs end next to the spine.

Vic’tao latched onto the other side with his wrist blades entering at the muscular shoulder area. Red blood sprayed at first, coating his newly cleaned armor.

The creature cried out a warning and pain while it attempted to rear up. Vic’tao shifted down to bring his weight more on the front. The added five hundred pounds prevented it from throwing them off. It’s large, sharp horns were thrashed wildly, side to side. Vic’tao felt one hit its mark at his flank and dragged him up.

The only thing that saved him was his blades. Vic’tao stayed attached to the beast and slammed back down. Green blood poured from the terrible wound on his side. He locked his jaw. The blades are pulled out and aimed at the jugular.

It bucked its hips up. Uihoy tumbles into Vic’tao. The younger male misses his shot and is forced to grip the horns he was once sliced with.

Uihoy is thrown down onto the vulnerable ground. The air knocked out of his lungs. He’s flat on his back, gasping for the lost air. Vic double downs his effects. The struggle is fierce. It takes all of his strength to turn the creature’s head away from Uihoy’s direction. Out towards the open, empty field. Away from Uihoy and the alerted herd.

Instead of seeing it, he felt when Uihoy was back on the haunches. Vic’tao grinned to himself and shifted his position back onto the shoulder. The purple Yautja is grappling to the hind quarters as the beast bucks multiple times. But, Uihoy knows better. His claws sink true into the flesh under wiry fur.

Bellows and bleats from other creatures echoed through the air from different animals. Its chaos as they began to stamped away from the scene, taking the big bull with them. One thing off of their plate.

Each buck and rear caused the creature’s energy to deplete. Both Yautjas have settled down in their respected spots and held on tightly, using up less force. It wasn’t long before it heaved for air and could on shake violently. Its head straining to reach for Vic’tao. Anything to gorge the Yautja with its horns. But, the younger male was able to watch out. A lesson well learned.

Then, its thick legs gave out from underneath it, sending it to the ground in a heap. Vic’tao stayed on the shoulders and glanced back at Uihoy. A simple nod sent to the other. The purple Yautja tore his combistick out from the backside. Purposeful strides led him to thick neck of the hoofed creature.

A simple bow of respect given to it before he reared the spear back.

Vic’tao is knocked off the back and falls to the ground. Hooves and a barrel underside is all he could see. Instinct drives him to miss getting stepped on. It’s like a dance on his back, twisting and rolling out of the way. Until he gets a moment to ram the dual blades on his wrist up into the soft underside of the beast’s belly. Into its heart.

One last cry. The yellow Yautja barely has time to roll away as it crumbled to the ground. He’s on his feet the instant he’s free, at the ready. But it doesn’t move. The eyes blank and void of all life.

A smirk graces his features. They had done it! He glanced over at Uihoy for a moment only to snap his head back. His mate was on the ground. Bright, green blood coated his entire front side. Vic choked on a gasp and rushed over to Uihoy’s gasping body.

The beast had gouged him with a horn. All the way from his belly button and up to his sternum. Uihoy lays on his side, inners spilled onto the ground. Like a gutted prey.

“Uihoy!” the younger Yautja cried and frantically moved between Uihoy’s face and the deadly gouge. Until the purple Yautja raised a shaky hand and cupped his cheek. Vic cried hard. They were too far from the ship. Nothing could save him even if he got him to the ship.

He felt like he was losing everything all over again. All those years ago with you, their little ooman, little hunter. “Please, no.” Vic’tao carefully rolled the elder onto his back and crowded his face. Gentle, trembling hands gripped Uihoy’s features.

The two shared one last kiss.

A tug on his tress had Vic pulling away to find the dying eyes of Uihoy. “Put me… out. Can’t suffer, like this,” the elder pleaded with Vic’tao. His yellow eyes snapped wide. Tears continuously dripping down his face. Vic couldn’t believe what he was being asked of. Kill? Paya save him.

As Vic says his mate’s name, Uihoy tightened his grip. “Do… it.” He wasn’t dying quick enough. He was suffering, bleeding out with his guts spilled to the ground like prey.

Vic’tao swallowed hard around the building lump in his throat. The blades on his wrist had been retracted after the kill. His eyes find Uihoy’s as he raised the razor edge to the elder’s throat. With a simple slash, blood drains quicker. Uihoy is gone in less than a minute.

The sun rises and falls for some time. Vic’tao stays there at his mate’s side despite the growing need for food and hunger gnawing at his insides.

For once in a long, long time, the male was alone in the universe. Once a family full of love and laughter and teasing. Only left to be a grouchy, snarling, bitter male to face the universe. He’ll soon meet Cetanu. He’ll soon see his mates again.

[pandorxxx]

Sleeping beauty

Lo’ak (19) x Avatar fem reader (19)

Warnings: somnophilla, intense orgasms, cursing, p in v, choking, creampie

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

Lo’ak crept in like a thief in the night, walking towards your lifeless avatar body. He kneeled down beside your cot, caressing your arm.

“My sweet, y/n. You’re so beautiful when you sleep.” He whispered, tracing your body up and down. He looked around, ensuring that no one was watching. He pulled the sheet back, climbing on top of you. He bent down to your neck, kissing it softly as he fondled your breasts. He slid down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching your loincloth. He gently pulled it down, unwrapping it from around your ankles.

He sat up, admiring your half naked body. He slowly pulled your legs back to reveal your glistening cunt. He licked his lips before bending down to French kiss it, sucking on your clit. He sat up, eyeing you lustfully as he untied his loincloth. He threw it to the side before lining himself up with your entrance, sliding into you slowly. He bit his lip, trying his best to suppress his moans, but he couldn’t help it.

“Mhmm shit!” He strained, pulling your leg onto his shoulder as he thrusted into you deeply. He kissed your ankle, looking down at your, still unconscious body…and nothing. He almost forgot that you were an avatar, lifeless without your consciousness.

Back at the lab

“I’ll take you tomorrow. You’ve got to get out of this lab.” Neteyam chuckled, watching you work on your computer. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Neteyam, I’m busy. Hallelujah mountains next week, I promise.” You spoke soullessly, razor focused on your computer. All of the sudden, your computer was slammed shut, and you were whipped around to face him.

“I said tomorrow.” Neteyam spoke, eyeing you up and down before meeting your eyes again. Now, all you could focus on was him. You traced his entire body before looking back into his eyes. You nodded wildly, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Smart choice.” He smiled, kissing your lips before standing up straight. You blushed, turning your seat back around to your desk.

“Now if you would excuse me, I have to go sleep next to my lifeless girlfriends body tonight.” He smiled sarcastically, walking towards the door.

“I’ll be up when you get there, neteyam.” You chuckled, fanning him away as you leaned back in your chair.

“Ah Yes! that is what you always say. Then I find you sleep at your desk the next morning.” He replied, walking out of the door.

“ILL BE THERE! I PROMISE!” You shouted, watching him close the door behind him. You fell into deep thought for a moment:

Was I really neglecting Neteyam? That’s definitely not my intention. I’m just busy, he understands that right?

You sighed, rubbing your hands through your hair before standing. You walked over to the linking station, queuing up the transformation.

You opened the top, laying down before shutting it. You took a deep breath before closing your eyes, as you felt your mind travel to your avatar.

As your mind shifted to your avatar, you could feel your surroundings changing; the smells, the textures, the air. Your ears twitched when you heard faint moans, and grunts. You could feel a familiar sensation in your lower abdomen. Your eyes finally shot opened to an unbelievable scene.

“Hey, baby. You’re finally up!” Lo’ak muttered breathlessly as he rolled his hips into yours slowly, watching your consciousness pour into your body. You shot up, trying to push him off of you, but he pinned you back down by your neck.

“w-what the fuck are y-ughhh you doing?” You whined, unfortunately feeling your orgasm slowly approaching. He speed up the pace, hitting your sweetspot with each stroke.

“I’m fucking you, duh?!” He smiled sarcastically, licking his lips before kissing your leg again, maintaining eye contact. You threw your head back, involuntarily submitting to his touch. You tried to push him back with the little energy you had, but he was fucking you too good.

“Lo’ak! neteyam will be back any second.” You moaned, turning away from his gaze. He grabbed your neck tighter, turning you towards him.

“You don’t wanna look me in the eyes? Huh? Afraid you might fall in love?” He asked, tilting his head at you before reaching down to plant wet kisses on your neck.

“Fuck, lo’ak! Im serious! He’s on the way.” You whined, nudging his head to get him to sit up. He hissed loudly, sitting up to meet your nervous gaze.

“I’ll be quick, y/n! So you can go back to your perfect little boyfriend like you’re not seconds away from squirting off the strength of ME.” He growled, rolling his eyes as he rolled his hips into yours once more, making your legs twitch.

“yeah yeah, whatever! Just don’t stop!” You moaned, grabbing his broad arm. You bit your lip, swirling your hips into his, feeling your orgasm coming.

“Lo’ak, I-I’m almost there!” You shouted shamelessly, earning a shocked look from lo’ak. His eyes widened, covering your mouth quickly.

“Woah woahhh, what the fuck? Shut up! Are you stupid?” He joked, keeping his hand over your mouth to muffle your screams. He watched your eyes roll back as you started to spazz in his grasp. You whimpered in his hand, cumming all over his cock.

“Ahhh fuck, you keep clenching around me like that and I’m gonna fill you up.” He groaned, rutting into you as he chased his orgasm. You nodded frantically wrapping your tail around his thigh. He looked up at you through his eyebrows.

“Y/n, no! Are you fucking crazy?” He yelled quietly, throwing his head back as he felt his peek nearing. You yanked your leg off of his shoulder, wrapping both of your legs around his torso, pulling him closer to you. His eyes widened at the realization that he was stuck.

“Y/n, stop fucking around. I-I’m almost there, shitttt!” He laid his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him, scratching his back up as you chased your second orgasm.

“Lo’akkkk!” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as your legs started shaking. He rolled his eyes, placing his hand on your mouth again.

“Bro, hush! I know it’s good and all, but-” He chuckled, but was quickly cut off by you spazzing harder than last time. He watched your spit slip through the cracks of his fingers as it dripped down your chin. You were going cross eyed as your whole body shook uncontrollably.

“Goddamn…” Lo’ak muttered, watching you seize under him. He was shocked that he had you feeling this way. He thrusted into you slowly, letting you ride out your high. You finally came to, eyes wide as you tried desperately to catch your breath.

“Was that your first time cumming like that? Neteyam could never make you feel this good.” Lo’ak grunted, thrusting into you relentlessly as he felt his orgasm approaching again.

“Shit, w-where do you want it?” He asked, contorting his face in pleasure. He looked into your desperate eyes, shaking his head all knowingly.

“Y/n…come on! Don’t make this hard for me.” He pouted jokingly, pushing your damp hair out of your face. You gripped his arm tightly, rolling your hips into his again.

“Shittt, stop that!” He strained, smacking your hand away. You clenched around him repeatedly, smiling into his hand.

“Y/N!” was all he could say before painting your walls with his seed. He convulsed, falling into your arms as you both tried catching your breath.

“And I thought I was crazy…” lo’ak panted, pulling out of you slowly, taking his hand from across your mouth. You gasped loudly, licking the spit from around your lips. He watched you in awe, slapping his tip on your sticky cunt.

“We gotta do this more often. How do you feel about that, mama?” He glared at you, rubbing his cock in between your sensitive folds. You sat up on your elbows, solely focusing on his cock.

“Mhmm!” you bit your lip, nodding your head frantically. He shot you a sadistic grin, getting off the cot to put his loincloth back on. You quickly found your loincloth, tying it around your hips as well. He looked back to see you wrapping yourself in the sheet, watching his every move. He bit his lip, winking at you before walking towards the door.

He stopped in his tracks, seeing Neteyam sprint around the corner. Neteyam stopped, shooting lo’ak a confused look. You shut your eyes instantly, pretending to be sound asleep.

“h-hey lo’ak. Is something wrong?” He asked confused, looking at him and then back at your sleeping body under the sheets. Lo’ak looked back at you, almost bursting out in laughter as he watched you fake sleep to save your own ass.

“Uhh no, I was just looking for my dagger. Mom said that it might be in here, but I’m not seeing it. I was sure to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake her.” Lo’ak explained, gesturing softly. Neteyam shook his head, smiling at his younger brother.

“Baby bro, you have GOT to stop losing your weapons!” Neteyam chuckled, slapping his hand on lo’aks shoulder. Lo’ak sighed in relief, laughing along with his brother. Neteyam shot his head back at you, watching you sleep soundly.

“Did she move at all?” Neteyam asked, walking over to you. Lo’ak thought back to about 5 minutes ago; how he gave you 2 body shaking orgasms. He smiled to himself before speaking.

“Not an inch, bro.”

Last story of the week, and this might be my favorite one. Had to make it funny😂. As always, I love y’all to death, and I’ll see y’all soon!!❤️🫶🏽🫶🏽

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

New Video: STRAIGHT RAZOR Shares Brooding "The Curse"

New Video: STRAIGHT RAZOR Shares Brooding "The Curse" @OmarDoom @heygroover @romainpalmieri @DorianPerron

While he may be best known for his roles in Quentin Tarantino’s Death Proof and Inglorious Basterds, Omar Doom has committed most of his creative life to music. Doom’s latest musical project STRAIGHT RAZOR sees him crafting a blend of darkwave, techno and EBM anchored around menacing beats and hypnotic, clockwork melodies. After a string of standalone singles and remixes, Doom released his…

[jakface]

DA:TV art dump in true jakface fashion

(1st image - Emmrich shaving with a straight razor, 2nd image - Vorgoth wearing a speedo because it's cursed, 3rd image - My Rook and Emmrich wearing modern workout clothes, 4th image - Valentina de Riva and Jak Laidir (@artemisiavulgaris1114 's Rook and mine) hanging out as besties :D )

[theyapper0]

PART FOUR OF "FINALE"

In another second, Charlie turned back into her normal form and, with the same amount of agility as before, climbed Adam and bounced around his body with so much speed that he couldn’t keep track of her. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” She grabbed a hold of his collar with one fist, wrapping her legs around his shoulders and with her other hand, lifted it up Heavencast and-!

FWOOSSHH!!!

Waves upon waves of fire thrusted out from her palm, PROPELLING them downwards at speeds even faster than to which they came UP!

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

There was no time! He couldn’t stop it-! He couldn’t react-! He couldn’t think-! 

All Adam could process was the manic laughter that filled his ears!

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

CRASH!!!!!

Adam crashed into what he could only imagine were the remains of the Hazbin Hotel. Not that he was thinking about that. In fact, he must have blacked out for a while, he didn’t know how long. 

But when he finally came to, amongst the rumble and remnants of this land, his ears were ringing, his vision was blurry, all he could hear was the sound of his heartbeat thumping in his throat.

And he was filled with an unimaginable sense of dread.

He couldn’t move. Too many broken bones, a fractured skull, internal bleeding. He tasted blood. 

The dust didn’t clear yet, it was so hard to see. 

A figure, too tall and hunched with two horns sprouting up from its cursed head, one straight, the other crooked. 

It was approaching. 

Adam could hardly breathe. Sulfur and ash filled his lungs and he felt like he was choking again. He needed to get away! He needed to leave NOW! THEY ALL NEEDED TO! THEY MUST RETREAT!

The little air that he struggled to hold onto left his body when the hellspawn dropped onto his chest. 

Charlie sat on Adam, hunching to keep their faces inches apart. 

She stared at him, and despite the war still raging on around them, her own ragged breathing was the only thing he was able to hear.

Adam could do nothing but stare back, fear clasped onto his spine and wouldn't let go, not permitting him to move. 

All he could do was stare at the product of the worst event of his life.

“I-.....” He croaked out through shattered ribs, he wasn’t coming back from this one, “I… should have stopped her”

He squeezed his eyes shut, “It’s all my fault”

It was his mistake. Humanity was damned because of his sin. All of humanity is doomed to sin forever and always for all eternity, human souls will continue becoming Sinners because of HIM.

The overpopulation was HIS fault, the Exterminations as a result were HIS fault. THIS BATTLE was his fault.

Charlotte sat up, her body cracking and creaking as she did. Adam winced at the weight shifting on his broken body.

She looked down at him, her face read no emotion. She just stared.

It was savage in a way. There was fire just behind those corneas, he could see it rage on when he looked at her. She was a wild animal. A beast. 

Beasts were not capable of feeling, not in the ways that Sinners or Winners could, not in the way MORTAL SOULS could. 

The spawn of Hell would always be just that, an unfeeling, unchanging, horrifying beast.

Charlotte Morningstar slashed at Adam’s throat.

And then she did it again.

And again.

And again. 

And again. 

AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND AGAIN. AND-!

Charlie SLAMMED her claws into Adam and kept clawing and maiming his LIFELESS BODY. GOLD SPLATTERED ONTO HER FACE, GOT UNDERNEATH HER TALONS AND INTO HER MOUTH. BUT SHOULD SHE CARE? NO! SHE SHOULDN’T AND SHE DOESN’T! 

ALL CHARLIE COULD DO WAS CONTINUE SLASHING CONTINUE KILLING! HE WAS ALREADY DEAD, BUT SHE NEEDED TO KEEP GOING! KEEP GOING, KEEP CLAWING, KEEP SLAMMING HER FISTS INTO HIM UNTIL HE WAS UNIDENTIFIABLE FROM THE FIRST MAN!!

Charlie cranked her head down to the ground, near what used to be Adam’s head. 

Her tongue slithered out from between the razors in her maw and lapped around his halo, still shining as brightly as it had when she first saw him.

She took the halo between her teeth.

And bit it into two halves.

Vaggie is still staring down at Lute. 

Lute is still staring up at Vaggie.

Lute: WELL GO ON! DO IT! KILL ME! LORD KNOWS YOU HAVE YOUR CHANCE NOW!

Vaggie is crying just as much as Lute. 

Vaggie:I-...

Before they could continue, there’s screaming, more screaming than earlier. It wasn't the kind of battle cries or of rage and revenge. 

It was of franticness, anxiety and FEAR.

“ADAM HAS DIED!

“THE MORNINGSTAR HAS KILLED HIM!”

“WHAT DO WE DO!?”

“WHERE’S LUTE?!”

Angel, Husk and Niffty all stayed together for the rest of the battle after what happened with Alastor, they were able to stick to each other, TRUST that they had each others’ backs. 

They were in the middle of fending off a crowd of Exorcists when they all suddenly became erratic once the news of Adam’s death began spreading across the battlefield

Niffty: He’s dead?!

Husk: Charlie actually killed him?

Angel: Oh shit- WE GOTTA FIND CHARLIE!

Vaggie’s head darted back and forth, looking erratically in all directions and trying to process all the new-found chaos.

Charlie killed Adam. He’s dead. 

Vaggie looked back down at Lute, who made no move to get up. She just kept staring at Vaggie, her grip on her arm so tight it looked like her fingers might just break. 

Vaggie: Adam’s dead. I-

Vaggie stopped, the lump in her throat not allowing her to continue. She gripped her face, covering her eye as ugly sobs escaped from her clenched teeth.

“I can’t kill you” Vaggie finally admitted

Vaggie couldn’t kill Lute. And Lute couldn’t kill Vaggie.

What were they to do?

Vaggie: I want to. I WANT TO! But-... But I can’t. I CAN’T DO IT!

She couldn’t kill Lute for the same reasons Lute couldn’t kill her. Lute was her mentor. She was her confidant. Her teacher. Her EVERYTHING. 

They loved each other. 

Vaggie threw her spear to the floor, stood her ground, tall and strong, and jerked her hand up behind her, pointing, “GO!”

Lute didn’t move, she couldn’t move. She couldn’t even speak.

Vaggie: I SAID GO! NOW! 

Wordlessly, Lute got to her feet and spread her wings.

“FALL BACK!” Lute barked at the top of her lungs, her booming voice echoed through the battlefield

Charlie was still slashing at Adam’s butchered corpse when Lute’s “FALL BACK” rang through her ears.

In an instant she jolted up to standing. NO! THEY WEREN’T GETTING AWAY, NO ONE WAS! CHARLIE WANTED EVERYBODY DEAD!!! 

SHE WASN'T GOING TO STOP UNTIL EVERYBODY WAS DEAD!

All Charlie could see was Hellfire and all she could hear were the screams of the damned and she needed MORE AND MORE AND MORE AND MORE!!! 

Angels flew by overhead and she chased them- no, HUNTED THEM! THEY WERE HER’S TO HUNT! THEY WERE IN HER DOMAIN SO THEY WERE HEE'S TO PLAY WITH, TO HUNT, TO EAT, TO KILL!

The enormous portal to Heaven opened back up at the edge of the cliff.

Charlie chased and killed as many Exorcists as she could reach, catapulting herself off debris, stomping over the corpses of those Sinners fallen, NO ONE WAS GOING TO GET IN THE WAY OF WHAT SHE WANTED! 

Lute soared close to the ground, flying past Adam’s lifeless form, swiping up one half of his broken halo.

She had flown past a rabid and HUNGRY CHARLIE!! WHO CHASED AFTER HER! Lute was fast and despite Charlie being naturally faster, she didn’t catch her. Lute knew in the back of her mind, past all the fear and her survival instincts that Charlie just wanted to play with her food. BUT LUTE WASN’T GOING TO DIE! NOT HERE! NOT IN HELL! NOT AFTER VAGGIE JUST SPARED HER-!

Charlie chased the Angels to the portal to Heaven, her long tongue sticking out from her drooling maw and her eyes blown wide, wider than any Heavenly being had ever witnessed before. It made them fly faster. 

In swarms, the Exorcist fled into the portal, Charlie not too far behind, cutting and slicing whatever poor angel that was unlucky enough for her to reach, slicing them clean in half. 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Lute watched from directly in front of the portal, silently doing a headcount as her Exorcist Angels escaped Hell as fast as they could.

She watched as the Morningstar spawn wasn’t too far behind, painted in golden blood. She was fast approaching and Lute barked out a couple more commands to hurry it up!

The portal was off the cliff, a few hundred feet away from it, below was a sea of dark blood, crashing waves and rocks of spikes. But despite this, the demon didn’t make any efforts to slow down or stop as she was fast approaching the end of the rock face.

Then, Lute’s breath got stuck in her throat.

Charlotte pounced off the edge of the cliff. She couldn’t be serious! There was no way she could make this jump! Even for all her strength, it was too far! She’s gone mad!

And Lute was right. The demon couldn’t make the jump.

She managed to get a good birth from the cliff but it proved not enough, as soon as Charlie neared the middle distance between he cliff and the portal, her leap began dropping downwards and-

“CHARLIE!”

Lute’s head darted away from the descending demon and her eyes widened as she spotted Vaggie barreling off the edge of the cliff as well. THAT IDIOT! DID SHE WANT TO GET HERSELF KILLED ALONG WITH THAT HELLSPAWN!?

Lute felt her body jerk forward in its spot flying in the sky before she froze again-

FWOOSH!

Vaggie caught Charlotte.

Vaggie was-

“She’s flying…” Lute mumbled to herself 

Vaggie was flying. Her wings. Wings that she REMEMBERED slicing clean off 3 years ago had sprouted from her back just as any other angel could. FLYING just like any other angel.

And she had caught the demon.

All of a sudden, Lute couldn’t breathe again. 

Vaggie’s wings had grown back? How? Was it instinct? Was it pure luck? She had saved Charlotte. Lute didn’t even know it was possible for the wings of an angel to grow back after being sliced off by an angelic blade…

Vaggie had caught Charlie by under her arms and was currently flying them away from the portal and back to the ground. Lute stared at Vaggie.

How did she do that? How could her wings just… grow back like that?

Her wings grew back to save the Heir. 

Even after all this time, even after everything that’s happened, Vaggie still found ways to surprise Lute.

Vaggie glanced back at her one last time.

Lute continued to stare from the other side of the portal, even after it closed.

(This is when Vaggie's wings grow back, the FIRST TIME she has them since they were cut off, she does NOT get them in “Hello Rosie”) 

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

[ninibeingdelulu]

Sicknesses

synopsis: you’re sick, so Toji take care of you

You woke, foggy-headed and more exhausted than when you'd tumbled into bed the night before. Your throat was raw and achy, like you'd spent the night swallowing razor blades by accident.

Cracking one eye open blearily, the weak morning light filtering through the curtains sent shooting pangs directly into your throbbing skull.

Ugh...yep, you knew that sickly feeling all too well. A nasty cold virus had burrowed its vicious claws into you overnight.

As you frantically tallied whether you were contagious enough to call off work for the day, the bedroom door suddenly creaked open.

Toji strode in already dressed for his missions, a black shirt and a grey sweatpants. Though he paused mid-stride, brows furrowing slightly at the disheveled pile of blankets where you huddled.

"You're still in bed?" His tone was clipped, bordering scolding - never a good sign from the notoriously blunt cursed speech user.

"That's unli-..."

Then Toji cocked his head ever so slightly, scrutinizing gaze sweeping over your undoubtedly pathetic, clammy visage peeking through the covers.

With narrowed eyes he zeroed in on your shallow breaths and glassy stare as the realization dawned.

"...Oh. You're sick."

Uttering a low huff, Toji abandoned his worm on the ground before crossing the room in several long strides.

You couldn't help flinching weakly as his broad form loomed over your cocoon, combat-calloused hands briskly yanking the sheets down to your chin.

Despite his constant barrage of eye-rolling impatience at your usual antics, Toji did possess one hugely redeeming quality. He'd always leap into action without hesitation when your welfare was genuinely at stake.

Sure enough, one thick palm was already pressing firmly yet gently against your clammy brow.

His flinty grey eyes roved critically over your pallid complexion, gauging for fever or any more concerning symptoms.

"Just a head cold from the looks of it," Toji muttered half to himself with a curt nod after assessing you thoroughly. "Nothing too serious yet."

Satisfied for the moment, he abruptly withdrew to stride from the room without another word.

You wilted back into the pillows, assuming he'd left for his job and feeling vaguely disappointed.

After all, what did you expect from such an efficiency-loving practicality machine?

Five minutes later though, your bleary eyes flew open as Toji reappeared brandishing supplies.

One by one, he deposited his armful onto your nightstand like a medic preparing a kit.

A fresh box of tissues. A bottle of Gatorade and throat lozenges. The thermometer along with various over-the-counter medications and decongestants.

You blinked up at him in mild surprise, chest feeling lighter already from his tender caretaking instead of being left to flounder alone in your misery. Typical Toji ruthlessness really...

Without prompting or complaints, your boyfriend then bent down and scooped your slumbered form straight up into his arms, muscles bulging through his fitted shirt.

You were swallowed in the comforting warmth and subtle pine-spice cologne clinging to his clothes.

Toji simply positioned you onto his broad lap with your head nestled in the crook of his neck, tucked safely against his steady pulse as he leaned back against the headboard.

There you remained cradled in his firm yet gentle embrace, occasionally feeling his strong chest rumble with gruff reminders to hydrate or take your temperature.

Not many words were exchanged - Toji didn't waste effort on frivolous sentimentality.

But you smiled contentedly against his skin regardless, knowing this relentlessly pragmatic man would remain your staunch bastion without fail until the last symptom faded away entirely.

[aesthetically-dying101]

The Crimson Throne

Act 5- Beneath the Crimson Sky

A/N: i made an attempt to write a battle scene and the results are... meh? I think its not my greatest work but HEY! it gets better

Act 1, Act 2, Act 3, Act 4

The battle had turned into a hurricane of chaos. Sukuna’s throne room, a symbol of his reign and power, now looked like a warzone.

Shattered stone, charred walls, and the acrid scent of cursed energy hung thick in the air. Sukuna himself was a storm at the center of it all, his crimson eyes blazing as his claws tore through the mutineers with ruthless efficiency. His loyalists—what few remained—fought valiantly, but the sheer number of traitors was overwhelming.

Jogo, battered and scorched, hurled another fireball into a cluster of curses only to be countered by an ice-wielding mutineer. Yorozu’s shadowy form twisted and contorted, locking down three curses at once, but even she was beginning to falter under the onslaught.

Sukuna, snarling in rage, lashed out at another wave of attackers. His claws slashed through cursed bodies like paper, and his cursed energy radiated in powerful bursts, but it was clear he was holding back. His energy reserves were thinning. He couldn’t use his Domain Expansion—not now, not with this many enemies. He’d need to conserve every ounce of strength to survive this mutiny.

But even the King of Curses could feel the tide beginning to turn.

*-*

You had tried to stay out of it. You really had. The fight wasn’t yours to fight, not really. You were human, and no amount of stubbornness or cursed energy was going to change that. But then you saw it—the mutineers targeting the humans. The cooks, the attendants, even the stable hands.

You’d seen the flash of claws, the spray of blood. And it was enough to make your decision for you.

You didn’t even remember stepping into the fight, not fully. Your body moved on instinct, driven by something primal, something that screamed at you to protect the lives Sukuna’s rule had allowed to continue. Your hands burned with cursed energy as it surged to life, unbidden, growing, twisting, reaching.

The first curse that lunged at you never even made it within striking distance. Vines erupted from the ground beneath it, sharp thorns wrapping around its legs, binding it in place. It screeched, thrashing, but the vines only tightened until it was nothing but a shriveled husk.

You stared at your hands, at the green glow of cursed energy that pulsed through them, and something clicked. You didn’t understand it—not fully—but it didn’t matter. The energy answered to you, and you weren’t going to waste it.

Another curse charged, claws aimed straight for your throat. You ducked, sliding to the side, and as you did, roses bloomed in its path. Not harmless flowers, but crimson blossoms with razor-sharp petals. The curse screamed as it stumbled into the blooms, its body shredded to ribbons.

You moved without thinking, weaving through the chaos of the battle. Wherever you stepped, plants grew—deadly vines, thorn-covered roses, towering stalks that crushed curses beneath their weight. It was as if the palace itself had come alive, fighting alongside you.

Sukuna noticed you, of course.

He always did.

Even in the chaos, even as his claws tore through another mutineer, his eyes flicked to you. His little flower, standing amidst the storm, wielding cursed energy with a ferocity he hadn’t expected. His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

He didn’t say anything—didn’t have the time—but there was a flicker of something in his gaze as he turned back to the fray.

Respect? No, it was something darker, something more complicated.

Uraume, bleeding but unyielding, found you amidst the chaos. Their voice was sharp as they deflected an attack aimed at your back.

“What are you doing?” they snapped, their cursed energy slicing through the attacker. “You’re human, you shouldn’t—”

“I don’t care!” you shouted back, your hands glowing as another wave of cursed energy erupted from your palms. Vines shot forward, ensnaring two more curses. “I’m not just going to stand here while people die!”

Uraume didn’t have a chance to argue. Another group of mutineers surged forward, forcing both of you to fight.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and cursed energy, the sound of cracking stone and wailing curses reverberating through the throne room. The battle raged on, an uncontrollable storm of violence and chaos. The mutineers pressed forward in relentless waves, their hunger for rebellion fueled by desperation. Sukuna, Uraume, and you were the last line of defense, each of you holding your ground, even as the odds continued to stack against you.

Sukuna’s claws sliced through the air with inhuman precision, each swipe cutting down curses in seconds. His power was undeniable, his ferocity unmatched—but even he couldn’t hold back an entire army forever. You could see it in his eyes, the faintest flicker of exhaustion. His cursed energy, though vast and potent, was beginning to ebb, depleted by the sheer number of enemies surrounding him.

Beside you, Uraume was a storm in their own right. They danced through the chaos with deadly grace, their cursed techniques sharp and unforgiving. Their movements were fluid, almost beautiful, but even they could feel the weight of the battle pressing down on them.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could last.

Your cursed energy, that strange, foreign thing inside you, surged again as you willed the vines to grow. They erupted from the cracks in the stone floor, a wall of thorns and flowers twisting violently around you and Uraume. The flowers bloomed as if in response to the violence, sharp thorns like daggers catching curses mid-strike. It wasn’t conscious. You didn’t understand what you were doing. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The energy, the plants, it all seemed to respond to your desperation.

A curse leapt toward you, a hulking creature with jagged claws and a grotesque mouth-with way too many teeth. Before it could get close, a thick vine shot from the ground and impaled it through the chest. The creature shrieked as it crumpled to the floor, its body twitching before falling completely still.

You barely had a moment to breathe before another wave surged forward.

“I’m not going to stand here and be a distraction,” you muttered under your breath, steeling yourself. You knew you were human, but in that moment, you felt something more. Something powerful, something alive within you. You weren’t just standing at the sidelines anymore.

A group of mutineers charged in, their cursed energy radiating with a twisted hunger. You turned toward them, your hands instinctively raising, and the ground beneath your feet trembled. The vines were alive—alive with your will. As the mutineers ran toward you, the plants responded, twisting into monstrous shapes, thick roots and sharp flowers lashing out. The curses were caught, pinned by thorns, their movements slow and erratic as the plants consumed them, strangling them in their own twisted beauty.

Sukuna, his movements sharp and brutal, glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a brief flicker of interest crossing his face. He had seen you before, watched you from the shadows as you played with your strange abilities, but now—now, in the midst of battle—he could feel the full weight of your cursed energy. The raw power you wielded, even if you didn’t understand it, was undeniable.

“You’re not half as useless as I thought,” Sukuna muttered, his voice cold but tinged with something that could almost be mistaken for respect.

You didn’t respond.

Your focus was elsewhere. But his words lingered, a dangerous acknowledgment in the air between you.

Another wave of mutineers stormed toward you, this time with renewed ferocity. You fought back with a surge of energy, planting your feet firmly, and the ground beneath you cracked open. Flowers—huge, blackened roses—burst forth, their petals sharp like razors. The curses were caught in the onslaught, blood splattering the stone as their bodies were torn to shreds. You could feel their cursed energy drain as your plants sucked them dry.

But even as you fought, the palace seemed to tremble. The mutineers were relentless. You heard their roars, their grating voices taunting Sukuna as they pressed on, their sheer numbers swarming like locusts.

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his claws raising once more. He lashed out, his cursed energy so concentrated it felt like a shockwave. His minions had scattered, but more poured in, relentless in their attack. You felt the impact of his cursed energy, and for a moment, the overwhelming force of it was almost too much to bear.

Uraume, ever watchful, moved beside you, cutting down a handful of mutineers in a blur of motion.

“We need to get through them, now,” they said, their voice low and strained. “Or we’ll be swarmed.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You extended your arms, and the plants answered—rising from the ground, thick and fast, strangling anything that dared approach. The roses wrapped around the mutineers like living chains, the flowers growing larger and sharper, constricting with every passing second.

It wasn’t enough.

The mutineers had realized your strength, and they were now focused on you. More and more poured in, their cursed energy swirling around you like a storm. You fought back with everything you had, your body shaking from the exertion. It was becoming harder to focus, harder to hold the wall of thorns steady.

You felt the world around you blur as another curse reached for you, its claws drawn back. You raised your hand in defense, but it was too fast. A curse slid past your barrier, slashing at your side.

Pain shot through you, sharp and blinding.

Sukuna, still locked in his own battle, turned. He saw you falter, saw the blood seep from your side, and for a brief second, his gaze darkened. His claws dug deeper into the mutineers before him, his expression twisted with fury.

“Stay out of my way, little flower,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. He moved faster than you could track, his monstrous speed cutting through the mutineers like they were made of paper. But even as he fought, his gaze flicked back to you—his little flower—and the flicker of something colder, something calculating, passed through his eyes.

And in that moment, you felt the weight of it—the shifting balance of power in the room. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. You were caught in the middle of something far darker than you could have ever imagined.

Together, with your cursed energy thrumming through the air like an electric storm, you and Sukuna fought back. But there was no denying it: this battle was far from over.

*-*

The palace was quiet—too quiet for what had been the site of carnage only moments ago.

Dawn crept across the ruins, painting everything in hues of gold and red, the light spilling over broken stone and lifeless bodies. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the cloying scent of scorched earth. Smoke curled into the early morning sky like ghosts.

You stood in the middle of it all, legs trembling, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The vines and roses that had fought beside you were now still, their lifeless tendrils slumped across the battlefield like discarded corpses. Each labored breath felt like dragging yourself through quicksand. But you remained standing.

You couldn’t afford not to.

Not yet.

The heat of battle had long since passed, leaving in its wake a bone-deep exhaustion. Your cursed energy had been stretched too thin, burned too bright. You could feel it flickering, waning like a dying flame. But you weren’t just exhausted—you were empty. The once-familiar hum of power that had thrummed beneath your skin was now silent, replaced by a hollow ache.

It was over.

At least for now.

You turned your head, your gaze finding Sukuna through the haze of fatigue. He stood at the center of the destruction, his crimson eyes sharp and unyielding, his expression unreadable. He was drenched in blood, though none of it was his own—proof of his monstrous strength. He didn’t look at you immediately, his focus scanning the battlefield for any lingering threats.

Your legs shook harder, the strain of standing becoming unbearable. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold yourself upright, but pride forced you to try. You’d fought beside him—beside Sukuna. And somehow, you’d survived.

I should move, you thought, your mind sluggish, disconnected. I should… do something. Say something. Anything.

But your body refused to obey.

When Sukuna finally turned his attention to you, his gaze pinned you in place. There was something unreadable in his expression, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. His lips moved, but all you could hear was a distant ringing in your ears. You squinted, trying to focus, to read the words forming on his tongue, but it was useless. The ringing was deafening now, drowning out everything else.

Your vision blurred, the edges of your sight going dark. Your knees buckled, but you forced them to lock.

Not here. Not in front of him.

Not after everything.

Stay standing. The thought was desperate, stubborn. Just a little longer. He’s watching. You can’t fall now.

But your body had other plans.

You felt it before it happened—the weightlessness, the complete loss of control. Your legs finally gave out, and you were collapsing. The world tilted, right as the light of dawn spilling over Sukuna’s expression as he moved toward you, too quickly for you to process.

The last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you was his face, etched with something unexpected—a flicker of irritation, of frustration, of… something else entirely.

Then, nothing.

*-*

The next time you woke up, it wasn’t to the heavy scent of blood and destruction, but to an odd sense of warmth and comfort. It was different—peaceful. For a brief, fleeting moment, you thought you were back in your old village, lying in the soft embrace of the earth, the hum of the trees around you soothing your tired body. But as your senses sharpened, the weight of reality pulled you back to the present.

You were in a garden.

The faint scent of flowers and the earthy richness of the soil surrounded you. The garden was lush and untamed, with roses twisting around tall stone columns and vines creeping up ancient walls. The palace had suffered, but this corner remained, hidden from the worst of the chaos.

The soft, rhythmic buzz of insects filled the air, a strange comfort in the wake of so much violence. Your head rested against something soft, but firm—a pillow? A cushion? You couldn’t quite tell, but it didn’t matter. It was something.

It was… peaceful.

And then, you remembered.

The mutiny. The battle. Sukuna. You. You had fought alongside him. You had collapsed. The world had blurred and—

"Sukuna." The thought came as a jolt, and you snapped your eyes open, panic rising in your chest. Your body felt too heavy, too warm, your cursed energy still sluggish as it tried to recover. The familiar, low thrum of power had settled in your chest again, though it was weaker than usual.

You groaned softly as you shifted, trying to sit up. There was a stiffness in your limbs, as though you had been unconscious for longer than you remembered.

A movement caught your eye, and you looked toward the center of the garden.

There, sitting on a stone bench under the dappled sunlight, was Sukuna. His imposing presence still clung to the air like a thick fog, but he didn’t move. He was just watching you, his crimson gaze unwavering, lips set in that eternal, unreadable smirk.

"You're awake." His voice was low and smooth, an undertone of something you couldn’t quite place. Amusement? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.

You blinked at him for a moment, your mind hazy, trying to piece together everything. What had happened? The fight, the mutiny…

And then, you asked it, almost without thinking.

"Is there a war among the curses?" Your voice was cracked, tired, you sounded like an old toad trying to sing.

Sukuna’s gaze darkened, a glint of something sharp flickering behind his eyes.

"Yes," he said, his voice colder now, laced with a bitter edge. "One that I did not anticipate. They are foolish to challenge me, but I’ve let them run wild for far too long." His hand moved lazily, gesturing to the remnants of the garden. "This place was a haven, untouched by the chaos. They don't understand what they've stirred. But they will learn."

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking into you. This was only the beginning, wasn't it? The peaceful lull of the garden only heightened the looming tension that was growing within the palace walls. You could feel it, in the air, in the way the roses bloomed almost aggressively now, their vines twisting and turning as if reacting to the shifting atmosphere around you.

Your eyes flickered to the side.

"What about… Uraume?" you asked quietly, noticing the familiar silhouette lying in the corner of the garden, a small bundle of their cloak wrapped tightly around them.

Sukuna’s gaze shifted briefly to Uraume, his expression almost imperceptibly softer.

"They’re resting. I had them take a break after all this mess. They're more useful to me alive than dead."

There was an odd silence after that, thick with meaning. You studied him—his face, his posture, everything. The king of curses, the one who controlled everything, who could end you in an instant, was now surrounded by the remnants of his power. There was no arrogance in his demeanor now, no boastful air.

He was simply… present.

He almost looked.. handsome? No, he couldn't be that. Well-he looked at peace, bathed in the warm sun, surrounded by the plants.

Still, you couldn't help but ask, the question bubbling out before you could stop it: "Why me?"

Sukuna’s crimson gaze snapped back to you, the edge of his lips curling upward into something predatory, though his eyes held that flicker of something deeper—something unreadable.

“Why you?” he repeated, as though the answer should be obvious. “You may not know it yet, but I can feel it. You have potential. You might be the only one capable of surviving what’s to come."

You stared at him, confusion muddling your thoughts, your own cursed energy still too slow, too weak to fully make sense of his words.

"I don’t understand. I’m just… a healer."

A cruel smile tugged at his lips.

"Exactly. That’s what makes you dangerous. And that's why I’m keeping you close. You’re not as helpless as you think. And one day, you might just prove useful in ways you can’t even imagine."

He leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving you. "You should be grateful, flower. You get to stand here and witness my reign."

His words settled heavily between you, and despite the weight of them, something in your chest fluttered—a twist of something that felt like dread, but almost… curiosity too.

Sukuna had been watching you, tracking your every move, studying you in ways you still couldn’t understand. And despite the fear that bloomed in your heart when you thought of what that could mean, a strange part of you wondered… What did he really want?

And why was he starting to sound almost… fond?

A/N: ALSO! i will be posting a bit less for the next week and a half.

Masterlist.

:)