#So much spite and curiosity went into this

[byeuijoo]

don't fall in love 𐀔 myung jaehyun

genre : mostly fluff, first love coded ⋆ warnings : none but reader doesn't like basketballs ⋆ word count : 1,811

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ୨ ✩ ୧

you don't particularly like basketball. you even hate basketballs because you're always afraid of getting one in the head — boys are often far too brutal when it comes to sports, their competitive spirit often takes over, and the desire to impress others can be felt in the strength of their shot. but when the only boy who ever made your heart beat madly, asked you to come to one of his basketball practices, you didn't hesitate for a second before accepting.

myung jaehyun has always been your buried secret — of course, there were other boys you might like, but it was him you wanted. from the back of the classroom, you could spend hours admiring him (and you weren't the only one) : his smile so big and bright that it overshadowed the sun, his hair always slightly in disarray from running around like a hyperactive kid, his school uniform' shirt always a little too open and his tie undone, revealing his sports shirt normally concealed underneath, but above all, his laughter, capable of chasing away every bad vibe in the air. he was always so kind, good-humored, funny and thoughtful, helpful, and full of other positive adjectives that didn't come to mind. you always found him interesting and intelligent, and not a day went by when you didn't squint a little too long at his concentrated face during classes. he's so cute, his lips slightly pursed together and his eyebrows furrowed, all bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window. nobody ever noticed your big crush on jaehyun, not even when you can't take your eyes off him and chew the end of your pencil until it almost breaks — and if, by chance, any of your friends knew, they were good at hiding it from you.

in spite of everything, the truth needs to be told : you're one another of the countless people interested in myung jaehyun. but even though so many people have already confessed their love to him, jaehyun never really showed much interest in any kind of relationship. he seems pretty focused only on his friends, classes and basketball practice.

or so you thought.

until the day he came up to you at the end of class, catching up with you, almost shouting your name, and trotting off to reach you. you don't know what face you must have made when you saw him standing in front of you — it was either embarrassment, curiosity or shyness, or a mixture of all three. but you didn't care at that time, because the boy you'd been watching so silently from the back of the classroom was standing in front of you, more handsome than ever with his sun-drenched face and a shy smile on his lips. his hand suddenly found your wrist, and the soft skin of his fingertips sent an electric field down your arm. you looked at him with doe eyes, noticing the way his eyes kept juggling between yours and an invisible spot on his right, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

after a few silent seconds in which you simply admired his sweet face, a little too perfect to be real, jaehyun spoke up and caught your attention. « can i have you number? » he asked, so softly, his voice vibrating your heart — so much, that you felt ready to faint. nodding shyly but positively, jaehyun seemed far too pleased with your answer, handing you his phone without hesitation. grabbing it without a second's delay, your eyes were riveted on the screen, before his voice drew your attention a second time, « i'm myung jaehyun, by the way. i should have started there.. » — a slight nervous laugh left his rosy lips, which made you look up at him, a smile hanging on your lips. « i know who you are. » you answered naturally, before typing your number into the contact section, not noticing the way his eyes lit up right after your words.

« you know me..? » he asked, as if it were completely inconceivable for him to believe this new information. a chuckle slipped out of your mouth, and your eyes locked with his as you handed him his phone again. « who doesn't? » you said, and you weren't really wrong on that thing. myung jaehyun was probably one of the most popular boys at your school, as cliché as that may sound : he was good looking, captain of the basketball team, and above that, he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. jaehyun had everything to please, and that's what made him so popular. and you weren't the only one who noticed it. you had a lot of competition if you decided to seduce jaehyun, which was why you'd always stayed on the sidelines in the first place, but now, seeing him so close to you and melting under his honeyed voice, nothing made you want him more than to have him all to yourself. it's amazing what love can do to you.

a timid pink tinge clung to the apple of his cheekbones, and you swore that never in your life had you seen such a pretty boy. his eyes carried all the sun's glow, and the smirk on his lips seemed more shy and flirty than teasing. jaehyun, who always looked so sure of himself, seemed troubled and distraught, as if he didn't expect you to pay any attention to him. of course, he had already noticed some of your gazes riveted on him, your pupils burning his back, but he never had the guts to come and talk to you.

or at least, until now.

poor boy — he was too obvious, but you were too oblivious. how could you not notice that he was interested in you? jaehyun decided to change strategy when your fingers brushed his as he retrieved his cell phone, a chill running down his spine. « oh, i wanted to ask you something, » he began, regaining a certain composure and energy that you liked so much, « are you free on friday? »

staring at the sky for a few moments, you thought about whether or not you already had plans, when you knew perfectly well that wasn't the case. finally shaking your head in the negative under jaehyun's watchful gaze, you gave him a pretty smile, « i am. why do you ask? »

jaehyun seemed far too delighted by this sudden revelation, and moved a little closer to you, his hand rising close to your face. just as you thought his fingers were about to reach your cheek, you stared into his eyes for a few seconds to see where he was looking : a little higher, his gaze wandering through your hair. the next moment, his index finger and thumb grasped something in your hair — something small, fine and pink. a cherry blossom petal. watching the petal twirl between his pretty, skillful fingers, the boy finally catches your eye, his gaze fixed on yours. and when he spoke, you swore you felt like one of this female leads straight out of a kdrama, « would you like to come and see one of my games? »

the wind rustled around you, slipping between the branches of the cherry blossom trees, and suddenly, a shower of pink petals fell on your shoulders. a scene straight out of a romantic film — which made your heart beating with happiness. it was almost unreal, the timing was perfect, and the twinkle in his chocolate orbs made you want to twirl in the clouds. you weren't much of a sports fan, quite the contrary, but seeing jaehyun's bright smile on a basketball court was worth all the effort in the world. so you nodded gently, positively, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the excitement creeping through your veins.

« of course, it could be fun. » you affirmed, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear and looking away. jaehyun suddenly felt his heart racing, like when he approaches a basketball hoop and adrenaline rushes through his muscles, having succeeded in inviting you had the same effect on him as winning a match. the overexcited boy shook his head like a happy puppy, before taking another step towards you, the sudden closeness catching you slightly off guard. your eyes opened a little wider than normal, planting themselves in his, which seemed a little too unkempt for your liking. out of the corner of your eye, you saw jaehyun run his tongue slowly over his lower lip, his gaze juggling from one eye to the other with the most tender smiles on his mouth. the image of his face surrounded by cherry blossom petals remained etched in your memory, you don't want to forget the way he looks so sweet and so hot at the same time.

« nice.. » he whispered, his fingers moving to reach your cheek and graze your cheekbone with the tip of his index finger, « don't fall in love with me after seeing me play. » — after his words, your heart raced in your chest, wildly, the words stuck in the back of your throat for long moments, far too surprised by his bold declaration. you hadn't yet realized that he was actually flirting with you (or maybe you just couldn't believe it), but now you knew for sure that jaehyun wasn't messing with you. in a burst of pure courage, your fingers innocently slipped around his tie, putting it back in place as you nodded, a look of understanding on your face. then, you stood up on tiptoe and put your lips to his ear to whisper the following words, « i can't promise you anything. »

with as much good as bad, and after a light chuckle, jaehyun tried to hide the smirk on his lips, but failed miserably when your gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth the next second. the poor boy thought his heart was going to explode — but he had to remain calm and wise so as not to hurt his own dignity. nevertheless, satisfied with your answer, jaehyun offered you one of those smiles that only he knew the secret of, making your heart tremble with shyness, « good.. i'll see you on friday then? »

trying to ignore the fact that his fingers kept brushing yours, you confirmed his words before moving gently away from him, taking a few steps backwards to admire his face for as long as possible. as for him, he stood there like an idiot for long minutes, before jumping up in a victorious rush, a huge satisfied smile hanging over his mouth. oh, he can't wait to make you fall in love with him.

reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated !

taglist ౨ৎ @leehanist @wtfhyuck @florainnie @dazzlingligth @yuma-is-mine @lilriswife4life @leehanascent @wantmatthew

[the-scythes-pen]

Love at First Thought (Yandere! Sunday x Reader)

Commission for my amazing friend uwu sorry you had to wait so long for it, but I really hope the ending makes up for it at least..? :>

warnings: manipulation

---------------------------

"Brother, do you believe in love at first sight?"

What an odd question.

"Hmm? ...No, I don't. Why do you ask?"

"I think the idea is... sweet. Romantic. I was thinking about writing a song about it."

Sunday couldn't even recall the words to that song- a song he's heard so many times and knows by heart. It's like someone had pushed him into a frozen lake; he feels stunned and breathless, and he's sure he broke his cool façade for a second or two.

"Thank you, miss. You certainly live up to the reputation of this place; I am already pleased with your service." His voice was calm and collected as always, but he could feel his heart stutter and butterflies blossom in his stomach. He couldn’t help the curiosity he had- of what you look like when praised.

"A-Ah, thank you Mr. Sunday..!"

You bowed after placing the tray on the table next to his seat. You were cute.

Turning his attention to the empty stage, he took a polite sip of the soothing blend of tea; made specifically and perfectly to the specifications he requested. Yet the tea that always helped him relax now just felt like a surge of restlessness in his veins; the thought that such a pretty thing as you had handled everything personally, from pouring the tea to laying out the snacks…

Sunday never paid much attention to those who served him. Not that he was heartless- no, far from it, he had always been grateful for those who helped him… so why was it so different this time?

(You looked so cute with that blush as you thanked him for the praise. He wanted to see you smile more.)

Sunday found himself falling deeper into thought; the tea assisting in washing over him and carrying him away from the slowly-growing bustle of the venue; the incoming crowd excited to watch his dear sister perform.

He hadn’t noticed you had left him to his thoughts. That was until he heard a muffled voice from the area behind the VIP balcony.

It's not something he hadn’t heard before, the familiar anger of someone berating another they considered “lower”, and all the angel-like man could do was sigh and try to tune it out, lest he get too distracted and too silently spiteful of those who abused others.

Soon enough, everything went quiet, and Sunday silently pondered for just a moment what might have happened. It was just a fleeting thought, before his mind happily wandered back to the memory of you, dressed in such a wonderfully-fitting uniform, the shy glow of praise lighting up your features.

It was as if his thoughts had summoned you, as you made your presence known once more, a new tray in your hands.

“I-I apologize, M-Mr.Sunday… T-The dessert served to you is devil’s food cake, i-instead of chocolate mousse. I-I apologize for my error.”

Sunday turned to see you in the doorway of the balcony area, a plate of said cake in hand and a certain puffiness to your face.

“Oh? That’s quite alright. Either one is fine with me.” 

As you walk closer once more to exchange the two cake slices, his eyes follow you hungrily; wanting so badly to learn more about you in some way. 

(Perhaps committing your appearance to memory would satiate his desires for now. Hopefully.)

Alas, it didn’t take long for him to notice just why there seemed to be a puffiness to your cheeks- it was in your eyes, too; your cheeks flushed and vaguely tear-stained.

His heart lurched. He curled a fist.

He said nothing, allowing you to silently exchange the desserts before heading into the back once more.

The sound of the crowd began to pick up, signaling the incoming hush that would take over the orpheum. 

But his mind was no longer on the show, only a passing thought in the back of his mind for the music that would soon fill the air.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth that no sweet treat would alleviate.

You’re not entirely sure how you got here... but before you stood the Reverie Hotel; the attraction of Penacony, the most popular destination spot in the entire galaxy.

Were you really lucky enough to have caught the attention of Sunday when he had visited your workplace that day? What did you even do to catch his attention? Other then that mistake you had been reprimanded for... you groan in embarrassment at the memory. Surely Sunday would not accept any kind of mistake, and yet...

"Ah, you're here! How wonderful."

That familiar smooth, calming voice... you stop, letting your bag sit beside you as you stand in the lobby- watching your new boss come up to you.

"H-Hello Mr.Sunday! Thank you so much for this opportunity-"

"No no, theres no need to thank me." He smiled kindly at you. "Please, come with me, you have your own room on a private floor."

It'd be an understatement to say you were surprised.

"My own room....?"

"Well of course, my dear. You'll need your own room if you're to be working here permanently."

He quickly guided you towards the elevator that went to the VIP floors.

"I hope you are prepared. Being my personal assistant is going to be just as exhausting as my work is."

Sunday gives you a kind smile.

"But it's nothing you can't handle, right?"

You blinked at him. Was he serious? Personal assistant???

...no way. You can't handle this pressure.

"Sunday-"

"Ah ah ah- I already know what you're going to say." He lets out an amused chuckle. "Theres no need to worry, I promise. Just do your best, and I promise things will be fine."

Was this guy for real? First, the two of you meet by chance at one of his sister's concerts, then he somehow finds your contact info and asks you to move to Penacony... and now you're working directly for the head of the Oak Family ?

....It didn't take you long to get adjusted to the new position; even with the many mistakes you made at first, Sunday was never upset. Robin even mentioned that he seemed a lot more lively lately, and attributed it to your assistance.

(Your presence alone would be enough to suffice him.)

And as you got better and better at understanding Sunday and attending to him, he entrusted you with more and more work, more important tasks that needed a careful eye and hand.

("Thank you, my dear. You're as amazing as always." He would say, and give you a pat on the head, that gentle smile always on his lips.)

Then again, sometimes all you needed to do for him was stereotypical office tasks.

"Can you shred this for me?"

Your fingertips gently brush against his gloved ones as he passes you a folder, slightly on the heftier side with multiple pages shoved within.

He doesn't immediately take his hands away, instead he lingers for just a couple moments longer before he finally does. The contact makes your heart skip a beat.

(Sunday is pretty, you can't deny that. And how many times has he praised you for doing the smallest of tasks with that honeyed voice of his?)

The smile he gives you is so, so genuine- something about the folder he hands you makes it feel heavy in your hands, yet the way his smile graces his features so softly and elegantly has you forgetting about the file in your hands.

You give him the same smile you always do lately- one thats slightly dopey from lovesickness.

"Of course, Mr. Sunday."

The two of you part, and theres a comfort that washes over you, as if you know that everything will be alright.

(Why do you even question it? Why do you have that doubt in your heart? Whatever the reason, you ignore it so willingly, simply because it does not fit in with the order of your thoughts.)

Humming a sweet song you heard on the record player in Sunday's office the other day, you head over to the paper shredder.

(It's just like every other paper or file you've been asked to shred. So why do you feel the urge to look in it?)

(It's to make sure that Sunday didn't accidentally hand you a file he may want to keep. He has been quite tired lately, and he's warned you of small mistakes that may be made.)

As if responding to your thoughts, a single paper flutters from the bottom of the folder and onto the floor, like that of a leaf falling off a branch in autumn.

With insatiable curiosity, you bend down to pick it up, your eyes eager to scan over the familiar dark ink of the page.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?"

That voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you pause. Your heartbeat begins to pick up.

(Why are you scared?)

"My sister once asked me that very question when she was writing songs for an upcoming album."

The angel-like man so nonchalantly enters the room, and it's like you can't even bother to pull your attention away from him.

(Why are you still staring at that paper?)

Heavy hands are placed on your shoulders.

"I told her that I did not believe in such a thing."

His breath ghosts across your cheek from behind, as Sunday peaks his head over your shoulder. He's so, so close to you.

(Your hands are shaking.)

"And yet... when I first saw you at that venue, the one you used to work at- I couldn't stop the fierce beating of my own heart merely at the sight of you."

(Theres a pit of unfamiliarity in your stomach. It feels heavy.)

"In that moment, my dear..." Sunday's hands move down your shoulders, down your arms, grasping your own hands from behind as he effortlessly moves you to place the dossier in the shredder. "...I knew that you were special to me."

Sunday's own hands now move again, pressing the button to turn the shredder on. The machine roars to life with a loud hum.

"I hated that your former supervisor was so cruel to you. To such a beautiful, sweet little dove."

You watch the paper get eaten by the machine, as a white-gloved hand moves to brush a tear from your eye.

(Your tears are from happiness, aren't they?)

(Aren't they?)

"And I knew in that moment that only I alone could protect you."

(A protector, or a jailer?)

He nuzzles his face into the back of your hair, taking in a deep breath. Your hands move on their own now as a quiet whisper permeates the back of your mind.

You place your passport in the shredder.

"You don't know how overjoyed I was to see you had accepted my invitation to Penacony."

His hands smooth up and down your arms so comfortingly. It feels nice. He feels nice.

(It feels nice to be in his arms. It feels like this is where you belong. With family.)

(He's more than family. He's your guardian angel. Someone who loves and cherishes you.)

A sickness swells up in your stomach, but it's squashed by a fuzzy feeling before it becomes anything.

(Your mind feels fuzzy.)

"Forgive me, my love. I could not resist your charms." The man moves his face into your neck, his lips just barely brushing the sensitive skin.

A voice that is not your own falls from your lips.

"Why... are you doing this?"

(What is he doing? What's wrong? Everything is in order, isn't it?)

"Because I have fallen so hopelessly in love with you, darling."

You place your birth certificate into the shredder.

"You belong with us. With the family. With me."

His lips press softly into your flesh. It sends goosebumps down your arms.

"With the order." He murmurs in a low, dangerous tone before he places an open-mouthed kiss to your searing skin.

You place yet another page bearing your name into the shredder.

(Since when did the many voices become just one?)

(When did Sunday's voice make it's way into your head?)

(Or was it there from the very beginning?)

"I alone will bear the weight of my decisions. I alone will protect not just everyone else, but you as well. This, I promise."

His lips feel so, so hot against your skin. So... good.

(When did the thoughts in your head become the words of someone else?)

You make a noise akin to a whimper, and Sunday lets out a pleased hum of his own.

("I love you.")

[bevy-obeyme]

Character Study - Lucifer, The epitome of pride and how family makes you risk everything. {{Part 1}}

— Spoiler Warning for Lessons in Original Obey Me —

Art by https://x.com/pyunrim/status/1687472597787897856 on twitter/x

As we are all aware, Lucifer was once a greatly admired Seraphim who was also God’s favourite. An ethereal angel with three pairs of wings and yet he disgraced himself - why?

First things first, we all know that even during Lucifer’s period of stay in the Celestial Realm, you’d be surprised to see he still retains most of his qualities during his 'angelic years’.

For example, during Lesson 52-3 when Satan (''Sully’’) and MC go back into the past during a dream, we meet the Seraph as shown above.

It is evident Lucifer still held a sense of pride and superiority, not afraid to exert his authority and influence to get MC and Satan to help with his bidding, as well as portraying himself to be mockingly condescending at first.

However, even Lucifer himself wasn’t opposed to breaking the rules as during Lesson 52-5 he directly goes against the rules in the library to satisfy Satan’s curiosity in books.

This conveys that Lucifer ( even with his high ranking position ) cared not for petty rules and as such wasn’t afraid to dismiss them or rule them out when it came to a favour.

Later on in the same lesson we see that same lesson that Lucifer is still quite cunning, actively playing along to the disguises Satan and MC have brought up and tricking Satan into opening a blank book that acted as a restraint.

Whilst it does not differ from what Lucifer would’ve done in the present, his goal is noticeably much more genuine and appears to be more honest of what he wanted to ascertain which was to find out if Satan was a demon and therefore if he was a danger to the Celestial Realm. In addition, we see that Seraph Lucifer is able to let go of his pride without as much struggle as he apologises to Satan without hesitation or spite. This implies that back then, pride wasn’t as powerful to Lucifer. Even if he did carry more than the average angel, it was balanced out by his honesty and genuine intent.

So we have assured that Lucifer is not much different to what he was like in the Celestial Realm, so why did he fall?

The answer is rather simple; Love. Or rather, his strong dedication to family.

The brothers were very much mischievous as they are now - Mammon was originally a troublemaker under Michael’s care who was then subdued when Lucifer took him in. Belphegor snuck off to the human world often as he was fascinated and ended up dragging Lilith along with him.

Despite the annoyance this caused, Lucifer referred to them as '’small’’ problems which Raphael was actually quick to quip at according to Lucifer. However, he confirms that he never minded and it is evident the eldest even covered for his siblings during their mishaps. Until.

Lilith met a human. We learn during Lesson 15 the history of Belphegor’s hatred for humanity and Lilith’s perish - which was linked to humans.

Falling in love with a human as an angel was heavily against the rules as celestial beings are only meant to guide humans and offer their utmost devotion to the Father (God). Having a lover would surely meddle with duties and especially that of Lilith’s choice being a human - a race both demons and angels alike deem weak and inapt.

Despite this, we see that Lucifer does not hold a bias towards his sisters’ choice as many would have and actively supported her.

He did at first put on a caring and what may have appeared stern face when he went to check on his sisters’ lover, but ultimately, it is understandable. Lucifer was the eldest and Lilith was their only sister and the youngest at that - he wouldn’t want danger to come to her if she had chosen a dangerous man to fall in love with that she could potentially become victim to which explains his protective tendencies - much like that strict father that insists to meet your boyfriend and asses him.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Gemini Coven Better Watch Out

kai parker x reader | requested

summary: kai comes back from his sister's with new magic and a new mission

tags: rough kissing, neck kissing, dirty talk, breeding kink, unsafe sex, biting

word count: 2.1k

a/n: biggest apologies for the time it took to fill this!! also, i realize now, i could've done this in headcanon format and probably had it out sooner, but ngl i've kinda wanted to use the scene post-kai taking jo's magic in a work anyway, so it works out lol

Kai comes back from his sister’s with a newfound energy. The recently-merged siphon witch had been feeling ill the last twelve hours, and after wondering what it could be to make him so sick, he decided to seek her advice. Despite hating him for all he’s done, Jo’s still a doctor, and she’s probably the only one that could have any clue how to help him. So Kai went alone, not wanting to freak out Ric with the both of you there, and hoped his sister would take pity on his weakened state.

He barely gets through the doorway before grabbing your shoulders and kissing you passionately. He backs you up to the nearest wall. You can feel his dimples against your skin as he smiles. 

Kai feels healthy again. His strength has obviously returned, and he’s no longer sweating nor coughing up blood. Three different energies seem to swirl about in his blood. You can sense them, a witch yourself, and if he were to siphon you, you bet you’d get dizzy fast. 

His hands explore your body. Fingertips trail down your figure, until determined palms grip your waist. He kisses down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as his lips travel south. For a moment, he pauses, panting against your skin. You giggle, threading your hands through his hair, and take your opportunity to talk. 

“What’s all this for? Feeling better?”

He presses another kiss to your collarbone. “Much.”

“Good. What worked?”

“I needed Jo’s magic for the merge to work properly. Luke as a substitute made me the leader, but it didn’t give me the strength I needed because he wasn’t my twin.”

“She gave it to you?”

“With some convincing. But if she didn’t, I would’ve died, causing the death of the rest of our dumb coven, and all the prison worlds would have collapsed, leading to who knows what kind of destruction. That seemed to convince her.”

“Well, good. Because I can’t have you dying on me. I love you too much for you to leave me.”

He smiles, then kisses again. His teeth lightly graze your neck, and you drop your hands from his hair to his own neck in surprise. 

Kai’s always spurred on by those words, but today, they seem to set a fire in him more than ever. He teases the skin beneath your shirt as he pulls at the fabric. His lips reattach to your neck, kissing and nipping along it as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. When you put a hand to his chest, his heart is racing. 

You’re not sure what’s gotten him in such a mood at three in the afternoon, but the more heated he gets, the more you start to burn between your legs. You start to clench them together, fighting the feeling, but he notices quickly with a tsk of the tongue. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” he clicks, then picks you up and tosses you gently onto the couch. 

Kai climbs on top of you as you start to laugh and writhe on the soft material. He’s like an animal that’s captured its prey, but wants to tease it first. A dark look takes over his eyes, contradicting the smile that still rests on his face. His clothed hard makes contact with your bare leg, making you gulp. One look down reveals the wet spot forming under your skirt. He pets it gently, eliciting a moan from you.

He kisses your knee before moving his lips down your inner thigh. Excitement grows, however, so does curiosity. You want him, but you want answers first. Specifically, what happened at his sister’s that’s gotten him so turned on? Is it the volume of magic in his blood? The overwhelming power? Or is it a degradation from her mouth? His need to prove himself in spite of her words?

You open your mouth to ask, but his eyes meet yours as soon as you do. His dark look waivers your confidence. His fingers dig underneath your panties, stimulating your clit with ease. Your breath catches, causing you to squeal. A shiver runs through your body. He positions himself to kiss your lips at the same time he’s touching you. 

Question temporarily forgotten, you capture his face in his hands to kiss him back. He’s rough, still, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth and clutching your side between his nails, but remains gentle on your most sensitive tissue. Kai pries your legs open wider with his own. His hard is desperate against the rough material of his jeans. He rubs it along your leg every time he drops his lips back down to your neck, then up to your face again. The friction gets him panting and you hungry. You ache with a need for him to fill you. His teasing is too much, heating up your body, but neglecting where you need him most. 

“Kai,” you whimper, giving into the need. You can get him to do almost anything you want when you say his name with that tone. The touch-starved man turns to butter for you.

“What’s it, baby? Whatcha need?”

“Need you. Need your-” you reach for him, but your finger tips only graze his stomach. The space between your bodies is closing in as he starts to grind more on your leg. 

“Need me, hm?” He whispers it into your neck, causing another shiver. “Where do you need me?” The two fingers on your clit slip between your folds. You bite your lip and grab at his waist for support. “Need me here?”

As good as it feels, it’s not enough. You whine, squeezing your walls together against his fingers. He gets the hint, but teases you further anyway. 

“No? What about here?” He pushes a little deeper. A bit of smirk graces his face and you resist the urge to brazenly spit up at him. “Not there either?” He clicks his tongue once, as if stumped on where you need him. 

“Kai,” you try again. Your body sweats as you near your high. His name comes out mangled and weak. 

“Ah, I know now. You need my cock, is that right?” Your heart skips a beat at the vulgar term falling from his lips. “That’s it. You want me to fill you up completely. You need me pressed up close as I thrust into you, hm?” You whine more. He removes his fingers from your heat to rub on your clit again. “You want me to make you come, so that I glide so easily in and out of you? So that I can fit you so tightly, you can’t even remember your name?” He licks a stripe up your neck, then nips at your earlobe. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.” Kai pauses, pulling your skirt and panties down to your ankles, then immediately removing his own clothes, too. He holds himself in one hand while using the other to bring you back to the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your body. “That’s it, c’mon. You’re doing so well. So close.”

“Kai,” you mutter, feeling him on your leg again. You clench around his fingers, but he lets you this time. Curse words spill from your lips as you reach your high. His name slips in between the strings of profanities, making his heart race a little more each time. He can’t wait to be inside you and fill you up the minute you’re ready. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Need a moment?”

“No. I need you.”

He smirks, then positions himself in front of you, teasing your folds with his tip. “That’s my girl.” Kai leans forward to distract you with a kiss as he pushes into you. You moan into his mouth at the feeling, but there’s no pain. He made sure you’d be wet enough, and now, he can be sure you’re comfortable as he has his way with you. “Good?”

 “Yeah.” After a couple starter thrusts, you hook your legs around his waist. “Harder.”

He adjusts just slightly for a deeper angle. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ll fuck you so well your legs will be shaking, how’s that sound?” You giggle with excitement. “Mhm. I’m gonna fill you up, and you’re gonna feel so good. You’ll be dripping by the time I’m done with you. You’d look so beautiful all full and round, and everyone will know what happened and who got you knocked up. You’d be such a good mommy.” Kai pauses, sweat beading on his forehead. You’re not sure what is causing the sudden baby-talk, but you can’t describe the mixed emotions it makes you feel. His tone is full of excitement. His praise makes you feel rich. 

“Kai,” you whine, unsure what to say. 

His focus, though, is clearly elsewhere. “I’m gonna give you a baby, hm? I’m gonna fuck you so well. Fill you up, and stay inside until you’re good and bred, and not gonna pull out til I’m sure it took. How’s that sound?”

You open your mouth to respond, but a deep thrust makes you moan instead. He smiles, entering a pace that suits you both. 

“That’s it, baby. Let go.” His hands hold you still as he buries himself inside your heat. Praises and profanities leave his lips, but your mind is too fuzzy for you to pick them up. You’re close to your high and he knows it, watching the way your breathing gets heavy and your body clenches harder. “C’mon,” he urges, nipping your shoulder again. 

Kai’s vocal and rough most of the time, but never in this way. But ironically, you were just thinking about it’d be like to have a baby with him. You think he’d be a good dad, despite his past; he’d make sure his kid never suffered the way he did. 

“I’m close,” you mutter, spurring him on.

“I know, c’mon. I’m almost there, too.”

A sudden feeling of warmth shoots through your body. A fullness you’ve never felt before. Kai pants against your skin after his own release, but doesn’t slow down until you reach yours. You do, a second later, from the heavenly feeling of his seed inside you. He doesn’t pull out, plugging you up as promised, and revels in the sensation.

For a moment, you stay like that, with his body atop yours and his face buried in your neck. But then you dig your hands in his hair and pull him up to face you. His cheeks are dark red, and a smile brings out his dimples. You bring him in for a kiss, to which he complies, kissing you much more softly than earlier. When you break it off, he rises, sitting up on his knees.

You follow the action, resting your weight on your elbows. You’re still connected, but a little has leaked out from the movement. You watch it, then cock your head at him.

“So what brought this on, huh?”

“Was it too much?” A look of worry overtakes his face, but you reassure him with a shake of your head.

“No, just unexpected. I didn’t know you had that in you. What caused it?”

He hesitates, but then admits what truth he had learned only an hour prior. “Jo’s pregnant.”

You blink in surprise. “What?”

“When she gave me her magic, I could feel it.”

“And that has to do with this… how?”

Upon sensing the new life in his sister’s womb, something spurred within him. Whether it was a need to compete with her - to be the one to produce the coven’s next set of twins - or to prove that he is just as capable of creating and raising a baby, he has no idea. But that moment of realization brought an urge to him immediately. The need to breed you, to make you full, but also, to bring something as definite and permanent into your lives as a baby, to show everyone how much he loves you, that he is capable of love and willing to change. 

A thousand reasons flood his mind, but he isn’t sure how to word any of them. Emotions are still so new to him, it’s a mystery thinking about which ones are appropriate for which situations. 

“I don’t know,” he finally says. 

You understand. Even if he has some idea, he’s clearly not ready to try and explain it. Sometimes, it takes time, but he always reopens the conversation later, when he’s more apt to talk about it. He’s getting much better, the closer you grow. 

“Huh,” you shrug.

He smiles, full of relief. “Huh.”

[sorceresssundries]

A Spirit of Determination

I wrote a piece for my wonderful friend @callmethebrightness.

I had a go at re-writing the 'making it official' scene from the game. Not a criticism of the writing, I just wanted to try something different <3 SFW

Pairing: Lucanis x Female Rook

Word Count: 1.8k

Sei la ragione di ogni mio sorriso you are the source of all my smiles

The room smelled of hazelnut, coffee, and smouldering wood. The hearth crackled, breathing out licks of fire into the dining room, making the eyes of the stone wolves guarding it flicker amber and gold.

Cora watched from the shadows, smirking and silent, as Lucanis busied himself in the kitchen—humming quiet tunes she didn’t recognise, punctuating the melody with occasional tuts and mutters of  mierda whenever a pot bubbled over. He seemed happy. The knife in his hand moved with practiced ease as he chopped and peeled. The rhythmic thrum of a quick, sharp blade against the chopping board was a marked change from its usual purpose. He was content. “You’re lurking,” he said, his voice even, his attention never wavering from his task. She stepped out of the shadows, letting the firelight play across her figure to soften all her sharp edges. Lucanis turned his attention to her at last. For the hundredth time—or perhaps the thousandth—he was struck by her. She filled the space effortlessly, drawing all the firelight to herself, as if it were a privilege for it to pull her out of the darkness.

For a fleeting moment, he considered telling her so. But the words tangled themselves in his chest, as they always did. Instead, he drank her in, silently cataloging the curl of her smirk, the gleam in her eyes, and the way she held herself like she owned the room—and him. She was breathtaking, as always, and utterly untouchable. “You hum while you cook,” she crooned. The sound rolled down his spine, burrowing under his skin, curling into his senses. It made it impossible to focus on anything but her. The way she spoke—her words always either an invitation or a challenge—never failed to leave him distracted. He wondered, not for the first time, what her teasing might sound like if he captured it with his mouth, pulled it from her lips until all she could do was sigh. “I do not.” “You do.” The smirk on her lips widened just slightly, and for a heartbeat, the kitchen disappeared. There was only her, standing there in the firelight, daring him to a duel he wasn’t sure he could win. He wasn’t certain he wanted to. “You’ll never be able to prove it,” he said. She moved closer, curiosity evident as she nosed around his workspace, leaning just enough to peek at his progress. Lucanis went back to chopping, determined not to let the warmth of her proximity or the faint scent of her distract him. But she possessed her own gravity, tugging at his focus, especially as she poked her head around and studied the ingredients spread before him. “What are you making?” she asked, her tone deceptively innocent. “Paella for the main course. Hazelnut torte for dessert,” he replied smoothly, though his lips twitched when she raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought you were making mushroom risotto?” “That was the plan,” he admitted, pausing to glare at the empty jar that had once held his prized mushrooms. “But some little thief raided my stores.” Cora’s lips parted in exaggerated shock. “Oddio! A robbery! In our own home! I must alert Neve immediately. A full investigation is warranted!” With great dramatic flair, she draped an arm across her brow and leaned forward, collapsing against the counter with a tragic sigh. Lucanis glanced at her, one brow arched, but he ignored her antics with practiced ease. Still, he felt Spite’s pull at the traitorous corner of his mouth, tugging upward into a smirk. He liked her like this. They both did. “No investigation needed,” he said dryly. “I already know the culprit. The mushrooms were fed to that feathered nuisance. Do you have any idea how much those cost me? And to use them as treats for that goose.” He made a noise of disgust. Cora’s eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter. “He’s just a baby.” “He’s a goose,” Lucanis shot back, his tone flat. “Always honking and leaving feathers everywhere.” “It’s more of a squawk than a honk,” she said breezily. “And I’m sure Davrin plans to replace the mushrooms.” “It’s not Davrin,” Lucanis snapped. “It’s his accomplice—the other goose.” Her eyes widened in mock horror. “There’s another goose?” “Yes, the one that hisses.” “Manfred?!” Lucanis sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging under the weight of indignation. “I’ve tried to talk to Emmrich, but it’s always an excuse: ‘He’s just curious,’ he says. ‘He’s learning to care for Assan,’ he says.” Lucanis muttered darkly under his breath. “But he knows. He gets away with it every time. Always hissing at me smugly, like a goose.” “Well,” Cora mused, biting her lip to suppress the laughter, “to be fair, hissing is sort of his thing. Who would’ve thought? The mighty Demon of Vyrantium, bested by a baby griffon and his skeleton friend.” She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Laughter spilled out of her in rivulets. Lucanis groaned, though he couldn’t entirely banish the smirk that ghosted across his face.

He was a changed man, far more relaxed now than when he’d first arrived. Cora had made a point to give him space—at least in the beginning. Initially, she’d watched him out of caution, gauging whether he posed a threat. But over time, her vigilance had shifted into something else entirely; an enjoyable habit. She noticed how he was graceful and kind in the small ways that often slipped by too quickly. He brought thoughtful gifts from the market, leaving them in people’s rooms without a word. Everyone’s room except hers. For her, he waited till she found him. She had puzzled over that for weeks before realising the truth—the fish tank made him uncomfortable. He cooked meals he knew others loved, even if he disliked them himself. He had learned more vegetarian recipes for Emmrich and embraced the delicacies of the melting pot of cultures that had gathered at the lighthouse. He made sure to cook meals for Taash that would soothe their throat after a day of breathing fire. Harding believed the plants in her room were enchanted, thriving without water—but Cora knew better. It was Lucanis who tended them when Harding wasn’t looking, a quiet ritual he carried out without seeking credit. She wondered if these acts of care were his way of surviving, of pushing back against Spite, or if they were simply part of his soul. Cora could see the thoughts he never said aloud. He believed Spite had made a home within him because he’d always carried enough space to make room for all that anger. That the Demon of Vyrantium had been the perfect vessel for a demon like Spite. And perhaps, on some level, he thought he deserved it. But she believed differently. She thought Lucanis survived because of his determination. Not the cold, relentless kind that drove gods to war or the wronged to revenge, but the quiet, stubborn resolve to remain kind despite everything. Despite the Ossuary. It wasn’t magic in the traditional sense—Lucanis wasn’t a mage. But Cora thought it was the strongest magic she’d ever seen: the strength to endure, to care, and to choose kindness when the world had given him every reason to do otherwise. “Have you just come in here to torment the chef?” He asked, turning down the heat on the stove and turning to face her fully. “Something like that.” She grinned, and moved to dip her finger into the warm pan that smelled like heaven. “Ah, careful. You will scald yourself.” Lucanis batted her hand away, then dipped a spoon into the pot, scooping up a small portion of rich, velvety cream, and held it out to her, blowing on it before it could reach her lips.

“Chocolate cream to go with dessert—try.”

She hesitated only for a moment before stepping closer, the scent wrapping around her like a heavy cloak. As she leaned in, her lips brushed the edge of the spoon, and the creamy warmth melted onto her tongue. The flavor was intoxicating -  a perfect blend of cocoa and cream that sent shivers down her spine. She thought she could also taste a hint of Antivan brandy. She closed her eyes, and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips. The sound was sinful. Her eyes snapped open as she realized what she had done, and a flush spread across her neck. He was gazing at her as though she was a decadence herself, and for a moment, she expected him to kiss her. Instead, he laughed. The sound startled her, deep and unrestrained, full of something so genuine it caught her off guard. It was beautiful - kind and rich and utterly disarming. A laugh so full and unguarded that it left her momentarily stunned. “You’re laughing at me!” she exclaimed, her cheeks still burning, though she couldn’t help but smile at his sheer joy. “Yes,” he said simply, his laughter gradually softening into a warm, lingering smile. He stepped forward and, lightly, allowed his hand to brush her waist, and he leaned in to inhale the scent of her hair and allow himself a moment of indulgence. “Sei la ragione di ogni mio sorriso,” he murmured. Before she could process the weight of his words, he stepped back, his touch lingering for the barest moment before he turned away, his composure firmly back in place. Lucanis wanted to kiss her. More than anything. That kind of want—it was dangerous, a wildfire he had no control over. And with that wanting came Spite, and the feel of his demon’s wings unfurling. His sneer slithered through him, venomous and mocking, a reminder that his happiness was the one contract he would never be able to claim. He was here now. Cora could see it in the way Lucanis changed. The warmth in his face cooled like dying embers, his posture bracing as if against an oncoming storm. The softness she had coaxed from him was gone, replaced by a distant, haunted glaze in his eyes. She knew too well what filled his ears - the venomous whispers, the sharp claws raking at him, pulling him away from her. Cora tilted his face toward her, her gaze unwavering. What she saw broke her heart: a man with an apology etched in every line of his face.

“We’ll fix it,” she said simply, her voice steady, as though the demon in his mind was no more than a thorn to be plucked. To her, the battle he fought was not an insurmountable curse. It was a challenge to overcome. And Lucanis—Lucanis believed her. Because she was Incoronata de Riva, and he believed her capable of anything. But until that day came, until he was certain it was safe, he would not allow her to be touched by Spite.

And so, she would not be touched by him.

[theskee]

thinking a lot about Them this morning and i already went on a mini ramble on bluesky but i gotta just dump more detailed brainrot here because this is where most of my fellow emmcanis lovers are but like

there's a dialogue that comes up between emmrich and lucanis if treviso isn't saved. and emmrich is concerned about lucanis, his emotional state, and what it might do to him and spite. and lucanis kinda snips at him about whether or not he actually cares or if it's weird professional curiosity. because lucanis is so damn raw. it reminds me of how he snaps at rook when rook suggests lucanis talk to emmirch and says "he looks at me like a thesis topic" and there is some level of truth to emmrich being curious about what's happened.

but the thing that comes through the strongest, every time it comes up, is that emmrich thinks what's happened to lucanis and spite is unfair and horribly cruel, but that there's hope for them. that they can find harmony and survive.

so in this dialogue, where lucanis is short and defensive, emmrich's response is simply a promise. that he'll be there, to look out for lucanis and spite, no matter what. emmrich has seen some shit in his time as a watcher, and he hates suffering. he knows loss. i think there's such a depth of empathy and understanding that he has for lucanis, who is coping with the loss of everything important to him, so suddenly and senselessly, and emmrich knows intimately how difficult that is, especially when you're trying to get a handle on unexpected changes to who you are as a person that are outside of your control. emmrich began to talk to spirits after his parents died. while going through so many life changes, along with the manifestation of his magic, he began to talk to the dead, something we know he didn't master until he was an adult.

how jarring must it have been, to have lost his family, and for distant relatives to have rejected the responsibility of taking him in, to suddenly have magic and have the dead talking to you? i think in a lot of ways, emmrich feels especially strongly for lucanis and his situation because he can see parallels between them.

and emmrich is patient. he never takes it personally when lucanis rebuffs his support. he's calm. he lets lucanis reject it. and eventually, we know lucanis softens up and lets emmrich help him.

lucanis goes to emmrich for help keeping himself and spite contained, and emmrich sets wards for him. more than once. when lucanis is alone in the dining hall, he questions why emmrich is still hanging around, and emmrich simply expresses that he thought lucanis might want the company. emmrich understands loneliness. keenly. he knows it well.

and lucanis goes to emmrich. timid, exhausted, and asks if emmrich has time to talk, because spite won't leave him be. and emmrich is so gentle and welcoming, insisting he will always have time if lucanis needs to talk. emmrich will stop what he's doing to create a safe place for lucanis to express himself and open up about how hard it is. and emmrich is kind. he's there. he's steady and he understands more about the nature of what lucanis is going through than most. he has the most hopeful perspective of it possible, from the very start, that despite the tragedy of the way it began, that lucanis and spite will survive together, because of each other.

he encourages lucanis to bond with spite and read to him.

and then... on the other side of it. lucanis is direct with emmrich in a way emmrich needs. when it comes to the topic of lichdom and immortality, lucanis confronts emmrich with something that i think emmrich needs to hear. that undead forever is still dead. and he asks why emmrich would want to outlive everything he's ever loved. just as emmrich has so much acceptance for Spite, this thing that Lucanis is afraid of and wrestling with, lucanis has acceptance for death. all things end, is what lucanis says. and that's okay.

when i look at these interactions, and add them to all the little things, like Spite growing attached to Manfred or Manfred breaking into Lucanis room-- the debates and the references to their companionable time drinking fine wine together, out of glasses Lucanis bought for Emmrich, and all their little cultural back and forths and i just. in the final run up to elgar'nan, emmrich tries to thank lucanis for the wine glasses. he's trying to get his affairs in order. and lucanis tells him no. don't do that. no squaring up. it's bad luck. and it just screams of subtext, of reassurance that we're not dying here today. when death seems so fucking certain and emmrich is so afraid of it. my heart for these two.

i know it's might not be as fun or full of friction as the enemies to lovers vibes one gets from say, davrin & lucanis (which omg what's not to love) but the slow burn of rejection to acceptance to closeness-- the inherent intimacy of sharing space with another person who understands your fear. and doesn't let you linger in it alone... i just. am so so so in deep with this pairing.

[fieryland]

Smoke on the Water (Eren Jaeger)

tw stepcest, smut, scroll if you don’t like it

note I know you sluts love stepcest the most so here you go <3

wc 2.9k

-

Right now, you were home from shopping with Eren. You had dragged him around left and right, made him carry your bags and slide his credit card from shop to shop. The least you could do is ask him if he wants to see everything you bought, putting on a “fashion show” for him after pushing him down on the couch. From your pretty dresses to your new lacey panties and bras. “A little much, don’t you think? Who’s all this for anyway?” eren’s fingers drag along the lace as his curiosity gets the best of him, the glow of your skin instinctively pushing against his touch.

“Why do you care so much?” you giggle “You jealous or somethin’?”

At that he doesn’t say much, the roll of his eyes and reach for his pack of cigarettes mainly spoke for him. Your parents weren’t home so he thought— hey, why the fuck not?

You plop down next to him, albeit in your bra and panties, as he rolls the filter of the cig between his fingertips. The very same ones that touched up on you a second ago. You admire your big brothers hands; large but boney, invisible remnants of your skin spreading through his fingerprints like wildfire.

He hangs the cigarette between his lips and lights it up, the spark of the lighter evaporating in some kind of slow motion. You miss the way it falls to the fur carpeting underneath you, no, you were above it now and it’s never been so clear until today. His eyebrows furrowed in relief of sucking in the smoke. His technique consisted of holding it in his mouth before inhaling— a way of emulsifying before it resounds in his lungs. He turns to you and puffs out a wave of grey air into your face.

You twist your nose in disgust. But was it at the act of smoking, or the trail of slick forming on your panties? He was your brother and all but… God, was he always this hot?

“What? You don’t like it?” he scoffs “You better not tell on me, sis, I trust you. You’ve gotten kinda cool these past few days.” Eren nods his head at the praise, his bun bumping up and down along with him. He surprisingly wasn’t wrong. He went from your typical older brother— y’know, the one that spits in your orange juice out of spite and nuzzles your face into his armpits after hitting the gym? Yeah. Well, now that you’ve given each other a chance, you noticed you actually reap the benefits of hanging out more than you’d like to admit.

Still, you decide to tease. “Uh huh, and you’re still lame as fuck.” maybe that lie was too transparent considering the fact that he flat out laughed at you. You kick his foot like some sort of brat that didn’t get her way and, shit, Eren totally thinks you’re adorable.

“You look good, though.” he takes the chance to compliment you and registers your appearance to use as jerk off material later that night. You were his baby sister but.. that didn’t seem to matter too much right now.

Suddenly, you were more aware of yourself. You acknowledge the breeze that overtakes your body and eases you back into reality, the pulse inside your ears and the stream of your blood. You were conscious, awake and alive. You felt that much more naked and Eren was that much closer to you.

Your face heats up and you cower. “Aw,” Eren coos “don’t get all shy on me now, sis.” he takes another puff before resting his hand on your thigh. A comforting habit of tapping his index finger against your skin, though it felt different now.

“It’s a good thing I’m your brother, right?” he pulls up the elastic of your underwear and watches it snap back against your hip “If someone else saw you like this,” he swallows “it wouldn’t end well for them.”

You take into account the way Eren stares you down head to toe, the parting of his lips when his eyes dart to your soiled cunt and doughy thighs. His attempt at diluting his adoration by putting out the cigarette has clearly failed.

You despise the way you were so caught off guard. I mean, this was your big brother for God’s sake. Yet, you felt as though you were a deer in headlights— as if he were pointing a lamp at your face during one of those interrogations you always see on tv. So, you step up your game.

“Don’t worry,” you roll your eyes; forcibly, but you kept your cool nonetheless. “this isn’t for anyone.”

The screaming and dark blue lighting of whatever horror movie is playing illuminates most of the living room; it being the main source of light accessorised with a kitchen lamp in the far corner is what made everything seem even more intimate with Eren. Your voice drowned out the harsh stabbing sounds of the film— those stupid sound effects you absolutely loathed were taking up the entire screen now. You think to yourself how they couldn’t have made it sound any more dramatic than it already is, but your assumptions were dead wrong.

You begin to think your response to Eren might’ve been a tricky one the minute he flashes his canine ridden smile as though you were challenging him. “Good, then,” he gives you a one-over glance with half lidded eyes “it’s just for me.”

When he turns to the movie, you catch a glimpse of his side profile. His teeth just as white that rendered you just as crazy as before— and the upturn of his nostrils that follow his smile resulted in complete static noise inside your brain. You were practically melting, and he was practically high-fiving himself for the perverted comment he managed to land onto you.

There’s never been a sincere moment where you weren’t absolutely blinded by your big brothers looks. From when you were just two little brats that chased each other around, you had a crush on him. You distinctly remember when it all started; that day you had scuffed your knees and saw the worry in his big eyes, those same big eyes that were now bloodthirsty and dark— maybe you were too small to understand what a crush truly was, but never too old to remember those butterflies that tormented your stomach.

Then there were the stages of getting older, but, you two never grew apart like most siblings. Sure, he’d slam the door on you from time to time, he was a boy after all. But ultimately he remained protective and kept you attached to his hip. You would still sit on his lap and track his hair growth over the years, as well as hold his hand everywhere you went. Sometimes, it was as if you were virtually holding his hand by the way you’d hit his line and complain about poor excuses of boys that kept making passes at you. And I mean poor, Eren had set insanely high standards for what a man should be.

To elaborate, before you entered high school, you recall a moment in which he had whispered to you ‘don’t let any boys touch you.’ Similar to what he said right before you advanced to college. So, being the good little sis you are; you comply.

And now here you were, still stupidly crushing on him and his stupid smile, his stupid hair and his stupid clothes and stupid taste in movies. The word ‘crush’ was best to describe your relationship considering the fact that the two of you had never outright done anything. You shared your first kiss together as teenagers during a night of you not being able to sleep alone, but that was it. However, there’s no denying the amounts of times you would steal his cologne, spray it on your massive teddy bear and ride it late at night. The faster Eren’s bottle began to empty, the more you did it, and the closer he got to finding out.

How he found out was entirely ridiculous.

3am, the witches hour, he had gone to rinse the cum off his navel after pumping his cock a little too hard at pictures of you. At that point, post nut clarity was a nobody to a guy like him, way different from the first time. He had primarily discerned a sick feeling to his stomach for getting turned on by his baby sister, but the more he did it, the more he needed it. He knew he couldn’t finish without you at least crossing his mind. He was fucked up, and he had just found out you were too.

Those moans, there’s no mistaking them. God, you sounded so pretty moaning his name, he almost beat his shit all over again right then and there. Yet Eren was at a disadvantage. He felt as though you had cursed him by completely closing that door of yours. Leaving him in the darkness, yet gifting him with the warmth of your moans. He still inwardly hammers himself for never getting a chance to see you. But he was here now, a spark of the flame you were igniting. Consequently, he takes his chance.

“She kinda looks like you.” head tilted in a puppy-like manner, Eren’s nose points towards a promiscuous lady in the movie. She seemed to be jerking off her male companion, unremarkably participating in a sex scene. Just what kind of horror movie is this?

Out on this scene, however, you laugh at him. “Ugh,” you land a well defended punch to his arm “God, you really are gross y’know that?”

Her head might as well be a chunk of iron is what Eren’s brain was narrating so far. He ought to think you were stupid enough not to see right through him, but you knew better than that.

You rest the subject of the matter — your head — onto his shoulder and curl up into his side. “Shut up, you love me.” His voice guides the vibrations of his body.

You decide to bring him to the test. Notably, you guide your hand underneath his shirt and to his stomach. Caught in between his bellybutton and crotch, you roll the dice.

“Mmmm, do I?” You speak closely to his neck and let your nails ruminate his skin as you glance up to him. To your surprise, he was doing so first. You didn’t even need to look at his growing hard on to notice it was there. You both knew. He felt it, you felt it. Only one of you had to speak up about it.

“I think you love me more, ‘ren.” your eyes make a quick trip to his bulge and back to him to deliver the message.

Eren was losing his mind, but not as off guard as you wanted him to be. He still had the pluck to lean into your face and grin. “Oh yeah?” he licks his lips, some sort of attempt at challenging you. “If you didn’t love me, would you do this?” his hand embraces yours before placing it right over his clothed cock. He was bold— too bold. You were beginning to understand that you’ve just lost at this lifelong game you two had going on.

Your mouth slightly parts at him keeping his hand over your very own, squeezing it in a way of taking the lead. Yet when his lips capture yours into a kiss, the squeeze remained.

Your lips moved against his and your first thought was… nothing. You couldn’t even think at this point. He tasted so good, a mix of cherry and the aftertaste of worn down smoke. You continue to grab at his crotch after he takes ahold of your face— catching a better angle at slipping his tongue inside your mouth.

You press against his bulge as you continue kissing, tongues sliding and spit almost pooling out as he reaches to unbuckle his belt and does exactly so. You pull away from each other momentarily to see the anticipated.

His dick was free, fully erect and painfully hard on his stomach, definitely huge. Everything pretty much checks out. Not just that, but it’s the biggest fucking cock you’ve seen up close; strong and tan at the base, pink and sensitive at the tip.

You accidentally wince at the sight and he scoffs with his head thrown back. “Hmm? Too big for you, baby?” normally, his shit-eating grin and know it all attitude would annoy the hell out of you, but the way he takes his cock into his hand, shakes it and gives it a few pumps makes you rock your hips into the couch cushion.

He steals another kiss before placing your hand on his dick and wrapping his around yours. He moans as he thinks finally.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long.” he mumbles next to you, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure of his baby sis holding his fat cock. He begins to move his hand over yours, guiding you over the incredible length of him. He leans back in to kiss you as you’re fully stroking him now— but he squeezes your cheeks as a way of getting you to stick your tongue out, and he licks it entirely before kissing you. Was it filthy? Vile? Yes, but he got off on that.

“Mm, fuck.” You whine against his lips, now pumping him up and down all on your own. “Oh fuck,” Eren groans, just barely making out with you. “Strokin’ your big brothers cock.. what a fucking whore.” he teases with a smirk of pure bliss and pleasure.

Sloppy, wet, needy and rough were the words to describe this picture perfect scenario. Kissing wasn’t a foreign act to either of you, but the whole eating-each-other-alive deed made it seem like so.

You had spit on your hand to let it glide easier, that included collecting his precum on your thumb and spreading it all over his dick. His thick cock was throbbing in your hand, leaking as desperately as you were kissing him. You felt it, all of it.

You continue jerking him off and, shit, that look on his face.

His eyes half open yet glued onto you, peeking through the hair that fell loose out of his bun, mouth slightly agape rounded with his newly plump lips due to all the kissing, and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure created a newfound heaven right here on earth. The slick sounds of your hand moving up and down his length generated the perfect combination with his moans and sick mutters of swear words.

He bites his lip before speaking, “Oh fuck. You like that? You like my cock in your hand, baby?” he huffs and you promise, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

Erens head was in the fucking clouds, your moans and little hand around him was going to make him cum so fucking hard. It’s embarrassing, almost, how the best he’s ever cum is about to be with his little sister. Your tight grip on his cock was bringing him closer and closer to his high. Consider him a sick fuck for being so turned on by you. Sue him, even. He couldn’t care less, his baby sis just felt way better than any girl he’s ever been with.

He involuntarily bucks his hips up into your hand— fucking it and still letting out deep groans that made your pussy drip and your arousal as high as it can be. You moan along with him, watching him use your hand like it was just another hole to fuck, yet you indulge by pumping him back down.

“Tight fuckin’ hand,” he speaks through gritted teeth “gonna cum, sis. Gonna make me cum so fucking hard, holy shit.” He talks and talks and talks, spits disgusting nonsense as you moan his name back at him.

“Shit, baby, this is wrong,” he claims yet he’s still chasing his high within you. “So wrong. Shouldn’t be doing this but— ah, fuck. You feel so good. Wanna make your big brother cum all over this little hand. Yeah?”

“Please, want your cum.”

At your whines and pleads, he cums. He’s spurting thick white ropes of cum all around your knuckles and fingers, they grow bubbly as you pump him through his orgasm, riding him through to the end.

Hot groans and praises drip from his tongue and beat your stomach up with butterflies. Eren looked so beautiful, his hair down and out of his bun, cheeks flushed and biting his lip when he empties his balls into your hand. Your face grows warm at the view.

He stills before your hand does, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck.” he laughs out, slightly sweaty but his worries trip over the edge and wash away as soon as he sees your pretty little smile. You were collecting the rest of his cum onto your palms and bringing it to your lips. He watched, dick pulsating and everything, as you licked it clean and sold out an unreadable expression at the taste. It was warm, weird to the touch of your throat but your taste buds registered a certain satisfactorily flavor you couldn’t quite make out. Maybe because you were aroused, or wanted to impress him that bad, either way it was worth all your efforts the minute he connected his lips with yours in the form of a deep kiss. Wild and unhinged, yes. But he messily tasted his cum off you and that was what mattered.

“Didn’t think you’d be so good at it.” He poked fun at you in this newly discovered light. You roll your eyes, back to your ‘little sis constantly tormented by her brother’ demeanor.

You were idle for now, discovering stars in each others eyes before your parents arrived home. Knowing Eren, he got horny again and you ended up getting fucked over the armrest of your couch.

No surprise, I know, in spite of that, you would always be his sweet baby sister.

[cafecourage]

Can I have some shamless Wolfie being Reader's favorite? Reader may or may not know that he's Twi, whichever is the funnier result. 😆

Oh, they know. Pinky you know how I am. This is Isekai Reader. They KNOW.

You don’t like to think you have favorite’s, well in your current situation you would like to say you love each Link equally. One Link you loved because he was the one that you first got introduced to the series, another Link was admittedly was the person that got you into the fandom and helped you make the friends you have now. So on and so forth.

Were their moments in your life that you like one more than the other? Yes. But now that you finally gotten to know all of them in this weird adventure your on. You would like to say no one is a favorite as they are all very much good friends of yours. Which is a rare thing to say as you don’t typically meet fiction characters everyday.

Though you do find yourself spending more and more time around Twilight. Probably because he also suck to you like glue but you assume it’s also because you gave away early on about how much you know. You didn’t expect Twilight of all people to be that concerned with the other heroes being wolfie. Since most of them regard him as a honorable member of the group.

Which made you extremely happy, more or less because puppy. You just want to pet the cute doggo. So when Wind’s curiosity got him to finally ask “so who is your favorite? Like before you met us.”

You look up at the sailor a bit confused, “I didn’t have a favorite.” You said as you pet Wolfie.

Wind huffs and plops down next to you, “well there has to be someone’s adventure you always went back to, to reread right?”

There was but you wouldn’t say that it was your favorite. You mainly replayed to spite the villain to see if you can kill them faster. “Well no. Thats not what I would call my favorite. So I don’t have one. I liked all of them.”

“Come on.” Wind pushed “really is there no one?”

There is a sinking feeling that Wind is going to not let this go, but you didn’t want to just choose someone on random. Also it would probably cause tension, “Well,” you look down at Wolfie. Not to put Twilight in a corner, but it’s not like Wind knows. “Wolfie is my favorite.” The wolf in question looks up at you quizzically as if to ask why you’re bringing him into this conversation.

“He doesn’t count!” Wind was pouting as he thinks about it more “does he?” He asks just to make sure.

“I mean I think he does.” You smiled and ruffled the fur around the doggo’s face. “This cutie is the best companion for Wild.”

Wild, who you didn’t realize was listening in calls out “you bet he is!”

After a bit of silence Wind finally surrenders to that answer “Fineee.” He reaches over to give Wolfie some head pats. “He is a part of the group so I guess he counts.”

[honeymoonblues]

Gossip & Giggles

Professor Remus Lupin x Professor!GN!Reader

Summary: You've gone away for the day, and Remus feels like everybody is acting strange. (Gender neutral reader)

Word count: 724

A/N: Fluffy little thing. Is implicated that the reader and Remus are in an established relationship. Please, let me know if there are any spelling errors, English is not my first language.

“I give him 10 minutes at most.”

“I’d say at least until he walks through the door of the first class.”

“Have a little faith! I think he won’t go five minutes without noticing.”

A few professors were clustered in the entrance of the great hall, murmuring to each other. Remus thought that was a bit odd, but didn’t question it much, it was far too early, and his hunger was stronger than his curiosity at the moment. 

When his coworkers felt his stare, they quieted down, which was even more curious. Were they talking about him? Lupin wondered. But the hot tea in his cup was much more enticing than whatever they might have going on.

His gaze was fixed at a random point of his table, his mind lost in the haze of the cold morning and the memory of you saying goodbye. 

It was much, much earlier when your owl had woken up both of you by clawing at your bedroom window. It carried bad news for you. Thankfully, nothing tragic had happened, but the letter received demanded your immediate attention. That’s how, before the sun was out, you left the castle, not before hugging and kissing Remus goodbye, of course.

Breakfast passed without giving professor Lupin much time to raise his spirits, so he walked to his first class with his mind still elsewhere. 

The students were lively, in total disregard of the early hour or the freezing weather, as expected from the second-years. When he called for their attention, however, they fell silent ridiculously fast and started to whisper to each other in a way that reminded Remus of the professors in the great hall this morning. The nervous tic in his eye started acting up, he sighed and tried to make his student’s concentrate on the class once again. 

Overall, it was an all-right lesson, even outstanding considering Remus was fighting his neck pain, five hours of sleep, and the constant gossiping the students seemed to have going on through whispers and notes for the whole two hours. 

Stretching and comforting himself, Lupin thought “the second years always have some drama to murmur about anyway”. But his next class with the fourth-years was somehow worse! 

This particular group of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws was usually quiet, so much that he had to beg them to participate. But this morning, they seemed to not be able to hold their tongues, or keep their giggles at bay. 

“What’s going on with you today!” Even Remus had to chuckle at the unusual circumstance. 

In spite of that, he took advantage of the energy in the class, and used it to make an impromptu dueling class, which would have been impossible with these students any other day.

Sitting down for five minutes between lessons, he scratched his head, in an almost meditative state. Why was everyone acting strange? Is he missing something? 

While making sure he had a matching pair of shoes, and had not magically changed his pants for a multi-coloured kilt somehow, the seventh-years entered his classroom.

The older the students, the more tired they usually are, so this class went along ordinarily. They did seem to be smiling more, and Remus thought he heard one of them call him ‘cute’, but what were the odds? 

As the hours passed, Remus felt more worn out than other days, so every little bizarre experience in class or after it, he ended up attributing to his own tiredness-induced-paranoia. 

To his heart’s content, you were back to the castle just in time for dinner. With all these odd happenings, he felt like you were gone a week rather than just a few hours, but here you were, finally. 

The silly grin he had on his face when he saw you, rapidly faltered when he noticed how you giggled at the sight of him. Merlin, you too?

Blinking slowly, he felt your arms wrapping around him.

“Hello.” his voice was muffled against your shoulder.  “I missed you.”

“I can tell, darling.” Moving away from him, you looked into his eyes and took his face delicately in your hands. “Is that why you decided to leave my lipstick mark on your cheek for today?”

Then, he laughed heartily in realization, while you wiped his face to get rid of the remnants of your morning goodbye kiss.

(i hope no one minded the concept of the reader wearing lipstick, considering it's a gender neutral reader, but i think makeup is pretty genderless! even us they/thems have to wear lipstick once in a while!)

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

NEVER GONNA DANCE AGAIN (oneshot)

Aventurine x ex girlfriend!reader

He would gamble his own life before ever risking your relationship but his dangerous job forced him to give you up, shattering both of your hearts in the process. Months later Sigonian notices you on one of the boujee parties he got invited to as an IPC representative. Motivated by yearning and alcohol in his veins Aventurine tries his luck in love again. ANGST,SUGGESTIVE

general masterlist

Aventurine was always a little bit fed up with those expensive parties thrown by his business partners, lavish ballroom filled with pathetic people living with no purpose besides endless consumption, each of them raised in conditions he could only dream of as a child, staring at him with curiosity. Hoping that he will make a mistake, prove them he is still a lowlife they take him for despite all those privileges he now enjoyed as a high ranking IPC member. But tonight he sincerely did not care about any of this, barely acknowledging the noise around him. 

He sipped on a drink more pricey than lifetime supply of food for his whole clan would be, giving out charming smiles that never reached his devoid of emotions, outstanding eyes to greedy leaches sitting alongside him at the poker table. Seemingly interested in shallow exchange of blows disguised as jokes and witty remarks young man looked around not expecting anything positive out of this meeting, maybe except meaningless material gains he forced himself to care about for the sake of keeping up his Aventurine persona.  

Then he noticed elegant woman standing alone near the entrance. Fingers adorned with precious rings clenched around the glass, almost shattering it in desperate attempt to conceal how much his hands started to shake at the sight of familiar face. He thought he imagined it at first, but his broken heart wasn't playing tricks on him. Aventurine would recognize your face even after centuries, every detail of it carved into his mind, into his soul. Long, green dress tightly hugged your figure, enhancing every curve he loved to caress so much. It was really you. Just as beautiful as the day he broke your heart, five months ago. The day he saw you for the last time. 

*** 

- Why are you doing this to me? To us? After all this time? - tears dripped down your cheeks, you were choking on your sobs. Aventurine wanted to hold you, make you feel like everything will be alright, but he knew what he needed to do to keep you safe. 

- Y/n, there is nothing to talk about, stop making this so hard. I never loved you in the first place, I just needed some distraction from my work. - he was always a great liar. You seemed to believe him and he thanked Aeons for it, despite how much it hurt him to see you in pain. It's the only way to make sure they won't touch you. - It was funny to play house with you for two years but that joke got old. You no longer entertain me.  

You looked into his eyes, begging for this to be a cruel prank, searching for any crumbs of love in his eyes, but they were cool and calculated. Speaking to him when he put on his poker face felt like talking to a wall. Despair slowly turned into hatred in you heart, it's fire kept you warm in spite of your ex boyfriend's cold attitude.  

- I hate you. I hate you so fucking much. I can't blame you for being a shameless liar, you told me that's who you are at the beginning. I should've trusted you when you showed me your true colors. I don't even want you to apologize, I played myself investing my love in you. Now get lost Vasha. - nickname once spoken tenderly now felt like a slap to Aventurine. How do you tell somebody in front of whom you bared your soul that they were only a toy to you?  

He spared you the rest of monologue he prepared and went outside with all his belongings packed in three suitcases. He glanced at the door of your shared place for the last time and whispered to himself. 

- In another universe I can be just your Kakavasha, kiss your face every morning after I wake up by your side and hold you every night, love you the way you deserve to be loved, make you proud of me. Protect you with my own strong arms and build our future with them. But Aventurine can't afford such luxury, not at your expense. Not if it can cost your life. 

***  

Just thinking about how he treated you made him want to punch himself in the face. He tried to reason with himself. Back then his position in Stonehearts was endangered after he risked his Cornerstone during the mission in Penacony.  If he lost all his power opponents he got during his work in IPC would go straight after you and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. Aventurine secured his rank and influences by now, as soon as he did that he got rid of enemies to make sure he will never feel this incapable of protecting those dear to him. Such as you. 

Aventurine knew he should not hope for rekindling of your love, not after all those terrible things he has said and done, but could you blame him? All his life nothing really belonged to him, nothing but your heart you so willingly gave to him. Even money he bargained with were only borrowed from IPC, just like his new name, dignity and life. Not to mention his whole new personality, attitude worn as a mask grew so deep into him it felt like a second face. Kakavasha was a different man, the kind that knew what was really important and what was not.  

One not impressed by money or political circus, instead wanting to protect and provide for those close to him, more down to earth and proud than Aventurine could ever be with all his wealth and victories. The one who stood in silence when the lights were gone, the one who observed emotionless when his fate was debated by the rest of the Stonehearts, the one who put his own body as a shield between his friends and dangers of battle.  

There was not much those two men caged together in one body had in common, with few exceptions. Both had iron will and ambition forged in hellfire they went through in this lifetime, both were aware that even with all the luck in the universe their destiny was inherently unjust and both knew they will love you till death returns Kakavasha's tired soul to his family and Gaiathra Triclops in afterlife.  

Alcohol circulated in his veins, clouding his mind and soothing his fears. He excused himself not caring about worried glances his coworkers sent him and rushed towards you on slightly wobbling legs, passing self-important gentlemen and overdressed ladies. Concentrated on getting to you as fast as possible he didn't plan on what to say so once your eyes crossed he just froze in place. At first your eyes widened in pure shock but right away hatred took over. Aventurine inhaled sharply when your brows furrowed and jaw clenched. He wasn't used to irritated glances from you, you were always so gentle with him. His mouth got dry. 

- Long time no see, dear. - your voice was more collected than you expected it to be. Sometimes you imagined meeting him again but even in your dreams you were never this calm and over him. So time truly does heal wounds. - I have no idea why do you think you can just approach me out of nowhere after what you did to me, but I won't let you waste any more of my time after you stole years of my life with your empty promises. So please, hurry up.  

- So cold, huh? - Aventurine awkwardly attempted to laugh his anxiety off. - I know I must come off as a complete jerk but please, listen to me. Back then... I... I don't know how to explain that. 

- Maybe for once just say the truth if you even know how to be sincere. - you scoffed. - Simply say it like it is.  

- I was one bad day away from losing my job and I needed to make sure you won't get hurt in the process.  

You raised one of your eyebrows.  

- So you can only love me when you are on the top of the world but as soon as problems emerge I am a burden to discard? - you rolled your eyes.  

- Don't say that... It's not like that. - he hid his left hand behind his back, toying with one of the poker chips he always carried around. - If they kicked me out all kinds of sick people who prayed for my downfall would go after me. None of them would miss the opportunity to hurt me even more by harming you.  

- If that's what you say... - you seemed unbothered.  

- What do you mean by that? - Avgin curved his lips in confusion. 

- How can I be sure you aren't lying? That wouldn't be the first time it seems. - you chuckled sadly.  

- Please don't use that against me, I had no choice... - before he had a chance to explain further you interrupted. 

- Why should I believe you? Not to mention at this point it wouldn't change anything. - you looked away. - Not after all this time. 

- How could I let you know it was a bluff if you cut me off completely? I couldn't find you anywhere, I tried for weeks. You moved out and blocked me. - Sigonian's voice broke when he choked on repressed emotions, wondering if you even listened to him, your expression not showing any sign of interest. 

- I don't care anymore. If you really wanted to you would find a way. - you shrugged. 

Before he could mention how he overused his political influence and still could not find a single trace of you black haired male approached you both with glass of wine. Aventurine sized him up, tall and well build man had a reserved and cool aura, Avgin could feel hidden power radiate from that guy, as if he had a beast under his skin. Something about the way dark-haired male looked at you made his stomach turn. 

- I brought the drink you wanted. Are you ok? Who's that man? - mysterious guy asked you, concerned by your uncomfortable body language. He had a deep, melodic voice but spoke in monotone way. 

- I should ask the same thing. - Aventurine did his best to sound intimidating. - You guys know each other? - he turned his gaze back to you. 

- Yes, it's my coworker, Dan Heng. We grew really close lately. - you smiled at that strange, tall man. Sigonian stopped himself from asking just how close the two of you were. - Thank you for a chance to catch up Aventurine, but you see, I'm very busy right now. I promised to introduce my... friend to a few people. 

You gave him venomous smile when Dan Heng put his arm around your waist protectively and pulled you away from your ex. Aventurine hated the way you let that guy touch you. Did you allow him even more in private? Did you let him do things Avgin used to do? Does that other man know how beautiful you look with messy hair and no make up, with flushed cheeks and tears of pleasure in your eyes? Do you sing for him the way you did for Aventurine every night? Does he wear your marks on his back? Gambler preferred not to know, but whether Dan Heng already took his place by your side or was yet working on it, he was sure of one thing.  

- It's not over yet. - Aventurine muttered, clenching his left fist till he heard a poker chip breaking in half. 

[ossiethegreat]

somebody on tiktok was complaining about fans headcanoning their favorite characters to self harm so I drew this out of spite!!! HELP

I need Color to kiss Killer’s scars and hold him close and call him pretty

anyway

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Color belongs to superyoumna

headcanons below!!! CRIES AND SCURRIES AWAY (Tw self harm talk)

Somebody on my discord server once posted some art and said they headcanoned killer to test the sharpness of his knives with his bones and I STARED AT THE SCREEN LIKE WHATT 🙁🙁🙁🙁🙁

The way they aren’t even wrong!! I personally think Killer would usually use his victims instead cause yk he’s a little bitch, but I guess if it’s convenient 😭😭

But anyway in general, obviously Killer is very desensitized to self harm and death and pain and whatever, and since he was always brought back with the resets good as new, I don’t think he ever cared for getting hurt and sometimes he’d do it just out of curiosity or boredom. Since he doesn’t really feel much and he’s gone through MUCH worse, he does NOT care and he doesn’t see it as an issue.

And then Color had to teach him why it’s bad and he just stared at him like “huh”

Anyway!!!!

With Color, I think with all that time in the void, with absolutely no stimulation or socialization with anybody but Gaster, he went just a little crazy!

I think he had grown a habit of picking the cracks of his skull, as well as the cracks on his body until it bled (totally not projecting). Gaster tried to get him to stop but it became an involuntary habit of his and he still sometimes finds himself fidgeting.

Another thing, I think after just moving to the Omega Timeline, he sometimes took really hot showers, touched burning objects, or just random small things that would inflict pain on his body. Being in the void, he kinda forgot what those small things felt like, and even if it’s not a preferred feeling, he missed having that stimulation. Yeah guys I’m very good at putting my thoughts into words!!!!!!! HELP ME

okay that’s all 😓😓😓

[spdrvyn]

mr. spider and his journalist

you and miguel are rivals on the surface, but there's an irrevocable bond that exists between the two of you when you read between the lines.

injuries. implied wound patching. fluff. hurt/comfort. suggestive. happy valentines, folks!

The fast-paced and riveting action, joint with the simple adrenaline of describing an intense scene was what drew you to this job in the first place. Journaling wasn't easy, while you were no superhero, you were still somewhat putting your safety on the line to witness two adults in skin tight suits and superpowers throw hands at each other.

In spite of everything, you loved your job.

Your name had reached every single article that average Nueva York citizen could even think to get their hands on, your name befell the mouth of every employee in your building whether it was in praise or malice. You didn't care, all that mattered to you was that you were truly out there.

Although, your workplace wasn't the only area of your life where you were severely disliked. Even as you went out and about to record and detail on the spectacles and heroic gestures in this city, its top vigilante still glared at you with ire through his mask.

He was a spider, you were a pest.

Spider-Man had fought many impeccable foes over the years, battled by a villainous organization that was out for his blood in an almost literal sense. Not to mention that he was hurtling fate's delegated task of protecting a multiverse which each had a different version of this maddening, web-weaving hero.

It wasn't like he could bring himself to actually express his distaste towards you, but it was hard to mask his annoyance when you immediately came flocking to him with borderline intrusive questions about his life outside of his work.

After the precipice of disaster subsided once each fight had concluded, the snippiness of your tone as you wrung out questions brought the crowd of clamoring reporters to a halt.

Miguel had to swallow his intrigue time and time again, he'd tried to acknowledge a long time ago that surely you were just another journalist seeking out to actually making something of yourself. But your passion was the flint that sparked his curiosity about you, it was a weakness. He couldn't allow his poise to be wavered by someone like you.

Someone so eloquent and composed, someone so witty and humorous, letting himself get bested by you would be the biggest blow to his massive ego. It would be nightmarish to even approximate the possibility of Miguel having some sort of interest towards you.

You'd already come to your senses a long time ago.

It was silly, really. Obviously you'd discover these underlying feelings for him, why else would you practically be clinging to his side post-mission? Why else would you publish so many stories and reports about his daily miscreancy? A 5th grader could figure it out.

There was so much you knew, that you really shouldn't have. There were details about his life that have retained in your mind, but you didn't even know his full name.

"No further anomalies, Miguel. I'd suggest checking diagnostics though, anomaly activity in this dimension has been active as of late."

Miguel groans, running a hand across his face despite his mask. "Uh huh, right." He doesn't need anymore on his plate right now, for all he could care, you were probably hiding around in a little corner somewhere.

"So it's Miguel?"

Fuck, he really hated being right. And not having a spider sense, that too. "Ay, mierda!" He jolted, you bit on your lip to conceal your giggles. Seeing someone as big as Miguel get startled out of his mind was a little funny. "Do not keep that detail in your little article."

"What kind of person do you think I am, Miguel?" Ugh, he hated the way you say his name even more. "Tu secreto es mi secreto, no need to worry about it. But if I could get a last name too, that would be-"

"Alright, get away from me."

He still remembered the way you chased after him as he approached the edge of the battered rooftop, clutching at his forearm. You'd pester him for details, the most intricate ones, even when he knew that he could just zip right out of there, you always found a way to make him stay. Every single time.

The stirring way that you were always able to show up after nearly every mission he's had, your very presence emanating even when deep into the crowds of people surrounding the scene.

But you didn't show up this time.

Don't call for backup, he'd insisted. A stupid, moronic decision that was because now he was crawling his way, bloody and bruised, throughout a sopping wet alleyway that definitely wasn't only soaking with just the rainwater.

There was no crowd this time, there was no you to be found. He would have noticed a hundred miles away otherwise, his watch had damaged in the aftermath. Narrowly escaping by a hair, he growled frustratedly as the furious taps of his fingers against the small screen didn't register. His talons took the rear, scratching against the tiny panes of glass and only breaking it further.

At that point, there was no more reason to be angry. What's done is done, he fought his battle, he didn't lose, but he wouldn't consider this a win either.

The nano-fabric, originally designed to be as comfortable as can be for your regular vigilante activities, now felt like it clung uncomfortable to Miguel's skin. Sticky, grimy, and bloody. His chest heaved with the effort to just keep breathing, his large frame now so small as he slumped against the rough wall of the alley.

He wondered what you'd say right now, if he hadn't been caught in this blunder. You'd be asking him, what the anomaly looked like, if they were from a different era, their powers, how did he defeat them? So on and so forth, but your absence was more than enough of a bad omen for his failure.

The sound of your voice wasn't something he thought he'd miss, your annoying comments, your inquisitive glances, that sparkle in your eyes whenever he started talking. All those lovely details he'd lost to snide replies and swift conversation enders, he closed his eyes, it was childish to hold onto hope, but maybe thinking about what you'd say, what you'd do, would motivate him to get up. Get away.

Miguel, I honestly just don't know you do it, you would say with a sarcastic rise in your tone.

Say, how does your suit even work? I mean, I know it's nano-tech, but I'm no scientist of any sort. You'd ask, all while poking and prodding at the technology. A privilege he only allows you to have.

I don't know what to do with you, how am I supposed to help when this thing doesn't even have a damn zipper! The frustrated grind in your voice says it all.

Don't die on me, please. I'm sorry if I'm a thorn in your side, okay? I'll stop, just wake up! Wake up, please. You begged, a desperation sewn deeply with the way you grasped at his bandaged hand.

When did he get here?

His body still hurt like hell, trying to get his neck up straight was like having needles straight into the muscles. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he sees is your eyes. Puffy, swollen, and red from crying, your mouth stuck in a pout, quivering from the amount of sobs that you've let out. Your grip on his hand loosens upon his awakening, you can't hug him without risk of hurting him, so you simply lean in closer.

"You're alive," it's said a lot calmer than the hysterics you were spewing a while ago, a relieved smile gracing your features. "I- I didn't kill you, you're alive!"

The joy rushes into your voice, you're practically vibrating with happiness while trying to fight back the urge to swoop him in your arms. Miguel would, but for obvious reasons, he won't.

"Why would you have killed me?"

"I'm not a science person, how many times do I have to tell you?"

He doesn't bother quipping back, he hums, looking down over at the exposed parts of suits, pushing the blanket you set on him aside to discover that everything was cleaned and patched and stitchedto near perfection. "So you're not a nurse or a science person, but you can fix wounds like no other."

"This is a common book trope, considering how I'm closely tied to a superhero, I feel like being a fixer-upper is a requirement."

"Closely tied?" He says, unamused.

"We'll have to be now! I can't have you scare me like that, I won't ask you any questions for a month as long as I don't see you in any dark alleys all hurt looking." You harumph, you see him press a spot below his ear and all of a sudden-

His mask disengages, fabric disappearing seamlessly as his face is miraculously bestowed onto your gaze. Warm skin from the ambient lighting set to accomodate his hypersensitive senses. Curly and deep brown hair, all mussed from his scuffle. A set of dark crimson eyes that look a beautiful chestnut if you really look from a different angle, you forget to breathe.

"Thank you, but don't get too excited. Consider this a treat for taking care of me," he returns to that sense of stoicism, but your jaw is unfortunately still agape from how awe inspiring he truly is. Now, you'd have to imagine this face every time you even so much as wrote the word spider down.

"I, uh, yeah. Sure,"

This is the first instance he's ever had you so silent. You trekked around your flat for different foods you could feed him, brewing him too many cups of tea to count. You barely even made small talk, it was astounding to him.

He left soon after, the super healing abilities work bound to have started working more efficiently anyway. You bid your goodbyes to him, it was as if you still had the moment of shock written all over your face when he revealed his face to you.

The days that followed were odd, he didn't find himself in any sort of kerfuffle that involved him to be severely injured anymore, but when he noticed you in the crowd, you tended to shy away. You didn't even try to follow him afterward to pester him for details on the battle, there was something so off about it.

So Miguel decides to talk to you about it.

You were idly typing away, contained in a small office from the rest of the room. The chatter from your coworkers were your white noise along with the near silent clicks of your keyboard, the process has you so out of it that you don't pick up on the reflection of navy blue and bright red on your computer screen.

"You," grumbles Miguel and this time, you're started.

"Oh, shock. What are you doing here?" That boisterous confidence you always carried with you had gone mute, all Miguel saw was a drained creative and it made his blood boil.

"Why haven't you been," he doesn't want to say it. Don't make him say it. "Talking to me?"

You tilt your head to the side in confusion, quirking your brow up. Miguel disengages his mask again, you'll never get used to that. "I- what do you mean by that exactly?"

"You know, don't you normally- ask more questions? After I take care of business?" Miguel despises how needy he sounds right now. Please talk to me and keep annoying me, for I miss it so dearly.

"I thought you hated that," your voice drops in volume. "I just thought since the thing that happened that you'd want me to leave you alone for a while."

The absurdity of your statement had him reeling, the reason why he didn't die that night was because of your allergy to negligence, how the thought of even leaving him alone would make you sick to your stomach as you so described. Now, you were giving him distance?

"No," he walked even closer to you, cornering you against your desk and causing you to shrink in your small swivel chair. "You don't get it, do you?"

You shake your head hesitantly, it's too hard to focus. You've touched him before, but never has he actually initiated it. He was mere inches away from you, whether you should focus on not looking like a freshly plucked tomato or his handsome face was between you and God.

He lets out an irritated chuckle, the gleam of his canines prominent from the light of the monitor behind you. "Has it ever struck you in that head of yours that I like talking to you?" He places a hand on one of your arm rests. "That I enjoy your sass, your passion?"

There's that funny feeling again, that feeling from when he revealed himself to you. Discovering such a big revelation from Miguel, something you've dreamed of nearly every night, but now that it's in the palm of your hand, you can't bring yourself to think properly.

"But I– I thought that–"

"It's a yes or no question, hermosa. Answer it."

"No."

The back of your chair hits the wood of your desk as Miguel pushes you, he dwarfs your suroundings, his presence much larger now that both of you are in a place so confined. Now that he wasn't "couchridden". At this proximity, you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear your heartbeat.

"Think again," his other hand moves to tug on your bottom lip as he clashes his own against yours, your whole body tenses and for a split second, he thinks he's seriously messed up this time, until you groan into his mouth and that thought is straight out the window.

Your hands map out his body, from the broad shoulders, tracing the muscle connecting them to his neck, then to the soft hair that you've been dying to touch ever since you've laid your eyes upon it. Your fingers ultimately find home in the curls at the ends.

It's almost filthy. His other hand now trailing down to your neck, wrapping deft fingers around your throat and it causes you to arch your back into him.

He uses his grip on you as leverage to separate, left panting and with a memory to use for later.

"We should get dinner sometime,"

"When are you free?"

"Friday. 7PM."

"Okay," and you lean in to kiss him again.

[mother-ofthe-universedraws]

So you said Bill in Simon’s body can remember being Bull for up to 6 months, what was that like for him? It’s like inevitable countdown to where he couldn’t really considered being himself anymore, but he’s also himself. I just wanna know his thought process during this, not to mention his shock at being Stanley Pines’ child.

He’s got a love-hate relationship with it. Babies are kinda useless when it comes to their ability to do anything, but he does take a lot of pleasure in the fact that all he has to do is scream and Stan will give him anything he wants.

Spoilers for the Book Of Bill, btw;

The idea is that Bill was reincarnated as Simon as a form of exposure therapy; he’s been in the theraprism for centuries by the time this happens, and while he’s been getting better, or at least getting to a point where he’s actively accepting help and trying to change, he still has a lot of unsolved emotional baggage that mostly revolves around his mommy and daddy issues. His parents weren’t great people; while his mum seems to be better than his dad, she still seems problematic. The general vibe that I’ve been picking up from them is that their love for him was very conditional; they wanted him to fit in with the rest of Euclydia to Bill’s own detriment. And even after spending centuries in the theraprism, the damage this did to Bill is still ever-present. Hence the idea of exposure therapy; they’re gonna expose him to unconditional love from a parent.

That’s where Stan comes in; the guy cares about others to the detriment of himself, and never expects someone to change their flavor of weird for anything. What one might consider freakish, he considers special, and all he ever really ask for from other people is for them to care about him too, even if it’s just a little bit. Not to mention the empathy aspect; he knows what it’s like to be unwanted by his own family. He’s kind of perfect for the role of the Good Dad, not to mention that Stan really needed someone in his life who loves him the way Simon does; someone to keep him from being as lonely as he was all his life; Stan needs Simon as much as Simon needs Stan.

Forgetting who he was and becoming an entirely new person is a painful process, but it wasn’t like Bill went into this process unknowingly. He was offered something that could help him, but warned that said help involved reincarnation. He knew the rules and how everything worked when he went into it, but decided that he might as well give this idea a shot, at least for the sake of curiosity than for no other reason. He didn’t know all the details going in, but he knew enough to know that whatever he was doing, it would involve his soul being wiped clean and an entire new life being grown from the ashes. But, by that time he’d been in the prism long enough that he was willing to accept help and try out different methods of getting better.

Simon and Bill are not the same person, but they’re cut from the same cloth. Their personalities and base instincts are extremely similar, as are their interest and quirks.

Being born to Stan is the major shocker, and Bill isn’t very happy about it. He still doesn’t like the guy, even if the intense and bitter hatred has calmed down over time. Bill does have fun “tormenting” Stan just a little as a newborn; he’d scream as often as he could out of spite, and tried his absolute best to keep Stan from getting a full nights sleep. And he does find it rather amusing that all he has to do is scream a bunch and Stan will basically be at his beck and call. He considers it a small amount of payback for the whole “killing him” thing.

He does warm up to the idea of Stan as his father over time. It’s kinda hard not to when the guy’s constantly holding you and giving you attention and love. By the time his days of being Bill are practically over, he’s pretty ok with the idea that this guy is gonna be his dad from now on. Hell, he even has an inkling of faith in the guy; he might consider Stan a failure at absolutely everything, but even he’s gotta admit that Stan’s really good at loving his family. That baby is Stan’s whole world, and even Bill can find some manner of comfort in that fact.

Sorry to go all essay on ya lol. This is something I’ve thought about a lot!

[autumnmobile12]

I am happy for Natsuo's decision to go no-contact with his father. I think that's the best choice he could have made.

But I am sad that it had to come to that.

I genuinely think there was a part of Natsuo that did want to forgive his father, not because Endeavor deserved forgiveness but because Natsuo did want the father figure he'd been denied his entire life. For every time he comforted Touya, he had to have held some bitter thoughts that encompassed, "At least he loved you once. I never even had that." Only he could never say that out loud for the sake of his suffering sibling.

Still, no matter how much he may have wanted that, he knew there was no way Endeavor could realistically make up for his ruined childhood and so there was no way he could forgive him.

So yes, I am sad that Natsuo's circumstances led him to the completely justified choices he made.

I hope he has better luck with his in-laws.

...

That said, there is one thing about that decision that concerns me and that is the fact he will not allow his future children to meet their grandfather. And I don't mean that in an, "Aw, at least let your toxic father meet his grandchildren."

No, this is my concern:

Does Natsuo plan on hiding his father's identity from his children entirely? I cannot stress what an emphatically bad idea that is. One, unless he cuts contact with both his parents and remaining siblings, it's impossible. Two, even in the unlikely event he does go that far, his kids will figure it out one way or another. And if they find out the hard way, that's only going to cause resentment/raise questions. "Why did Dad lie about Grandpa? What else is he hiding?" Transparency is the only option to avoid that kind of drama.

If Natsuo does tell his children about his family, will he be comfortable with the idea that they may want to meet their grandfather regardless of what they've been told? In spite of their upbringing, kids are their own entity and not a complete reflection of their parents. Even if they know Natsuo's side of the story, even if Natsuo paints their grandfather as the unspeakable monster who destroyed their family, even if he makes it clear exactly what happened, there is still a fifty-fifty chance they may want to meet the man in question regardless, if only to sate a curiosity about where they came from. Natsuo can say 'no, absolutely not' all he wants, but that's not a decision he can control once his children are legal adults.

And in that scenario, he would be putting his kids in an awkward situation where they have to choose between alienating their father and meeting their grandfather. If they choose their father, then they will spend the rest of their lives wondering, "What if...?" If they choose their grandfather, they run the risk of Natsuo resenting them for going behind his back. No matter how Natsuo feels, unless Endeavor dies before it becomes an issue, this is a boundary that's going to be tested in some manner when his kids get older.

...

I'm not saying Natsuo doesn't have good intentions in wanting to protect his future children from what he went through. He has no obligation to capitulate and play happy family, but the above scenario is a very real situation that could absolutely happen whether he likes it or not. If he doesn't navigate that carefully, his determination to keep Endeavor away from his new family could very well end up pushing his new family away from him.

I guess what I'm saying is, "Natsuo, however justified you are, don't become the next Shimura Kotaro."

[bonefall]

PLEASE make Whitewater be the one who kills Weaselkit. It would be so (tragically) cool, like just thinking about it reminds me of other amazing BB scenes like the Elderberry and Ferncloud scene but on a smaller, background character scale. It would also be a cool parallel type thing to Spiderleg who attempts to kill his son during the same battle. Obviously Spiderleg and Toadstep don’t personally care about the death of a non-Thunderclan kit, so it’s not like they would be aware of the other family murder happening, but WE would know. And we would be shitting our pants. (I’m a sucker for generational trauma and parents failing to protect their children in fiction please mister bonefall)

I HAVE to do it. It fits too well. It's absolutely shockingly tragic and horrrible. Hell opened up and Owlclaw's worst nightmare came lunging out. I have so many thoughts.

Owlclaw has had a whole life dealing with the neglect and abuse he went through, taking it out on others as a bully, and it's only now seeming to get any better

Mentor Oakfur being even more of a parent to him than any other apprentice he's had, knowing Owlpaw needed it.

Whitewater had FINALLY died. It hurt like nothing else, because in spite of everything he loved his mother... but he was FREE

And maybe she was, too. Maybe in StarClan she could watch over him, perhaps now with distance her memory can be something positive.

There was a time he might have wished suffering on her. But he's going to be a dad, now. He's learned that holding onto grudges never seems to do anything constructive.

He started his new life with Pinenose, still in their honeymoon phase. They're a young couple and everything is moving fast, they're welcoming two little twins.

Weaselkit and... Happykit. He still thinks it's silly, but he said it as a sardonic joke because he couldn't think of a good name and Pinenose beamed. How could he burst her bubble?

He has NO idea that his mother didn't ascend to StarClan. Shes doonstairs. He's daring to assume the best, and she's embracing the worst.

She doesn't need long to be completely onboard with Tigerstar's scheme. She didn't even need a discussion with Hawkfrost. The only reason StarClan would throw her down here is because there's a problem.

So, she'll put it right.

The IMMEDIATE validation she feels seeing Harespring training in the Dark Forest is intoxicating. They ARE cursed!! One of them already found its way here!

(AND the spawn of that damn TRAITOR, Crowfeather. The bastard who betrayed Mudclaw's coup.)

Harespring started training here out of curiosity, and a speck of heresy to be totally honest. He wanted to know his biofather, Mudclaw, and StarClan couldn't be all that wonderful if it would allow his brother Kestrelflight to be forced into the Cleric's den so young.

But NOW, having met Mudclaw and hearing his side of the story, and now WHITEWATER landing here as well...

...he has never had stronger faith in StarClan before. Mudclaw was horrible enough. Whitewater is unhinged.

There is no doubt in his mind that these two belong here. The sad stories are outweighed by cases like these, so in his opinion, there SURELY must be things he doesn't know about innocuous cats like Houndleap and Featherwhisker.

He hates coming here, every moment he's trapped with one of his bioparents is a moment he wishes he was spending with papa Torear.

Harespring betrays the Dark Forest the minute he has a chance to. But it doesn't stop Whitewater.

Weaselkit's death happened so fast and they were so young that Happykit can barely remember it. Was it after Dustpelt crunched? ...he thinks it was during.

I can't imagine Happykit will be told about Whitewater until he's much older, but... he knows Weaselkit's death is what drives the wedge between his parents

(Of course that's too simple to be correct. Happy's smart in the way that you get when you have to grow up quick, but still a kid at the end of the day. Owlclaw backslid into old, destructive ways. Pinenose can't handle him and their child and her grief at the same time. They were a young couple to begin with. It shattered like glass.)

I'm not sure who dealt with Whitewater during the Battle of the True Eclipse, but she is definitely double dead. Part of me wants to make it Spikefur, Pinenose's next mate. But Owlclaw dealing with his mother a minute too late, after FINALLY finding peace with it all, is also gut-wrenching.

[epickiya722]

Not the first time I talked about Kenjaku deciding "let me just birth Sukuna's vessel". Did so here and here.

Before, I really didn't have a legit reason as to why I think Kenjaku did that. Today, I have a reason. I don't think I'm right and I would say it's a reach.

Also, before I get into this, do I think this should be something for Yuji, let alone the path he wants to take? No. Absolutely not. To clarify, this is just what I think Kenjaku wanted.

For Yuji, I think that what he needs is to take his own path. [I should probably do a post about this...]

But... what if Kenjaku went the route of birthing Yuji... to have someone surpass Sukuna? Maybe even be the "next Sukuna"?

As of 257...

I'll spare you the longer details since I already said them in my other posts, but in summary... if Kenjaku could make contracts with other Curse Users and just give them a body, why was it necessary to birth Sukuna's vessel. Hell, why not use Jin as a vessel for Sukuna? Wouldn't he have been perfect given he already was a part of Sukuna anyways being his reincarnated twin?

Here's what I think... Kenjaku likes to push limits. They like to experiment, sometimes for a laugh and for the sake of satisfying their curiosity.

What if that was the case for Sukuna? What if this whole time they wanted to see if they could create someone that with the capabilites of surpassing Sukuna? The thing is Kenjaku doesn't seem the type to actually care about "being the strongest" so when someone like Sukuna who boasts being the strongest, they took as a challenge just to have a laugh. Maybe even spite him?

Which is something given that Yuji is also someone who doesn't care to surpass someone.

Even though, he can could it almost effortlessly.

He had incredible strength, durability and speed. He can beat world records. He can outrun cars. He can do anything without the need for cursed energy.

He was indeed the perfect vessel for Sukuna. But a little too perfect. Yuji held the capability to control Sukuna.

Now, keep this in mind. Kenjaku is just as old as Tengen and has knowledge of jujutsu that still has to be learned by others.

I bring this up because of chapter 258. Kusakabe makes it a point of saying that because Sukuna used his technique in Yuji's body, his (Yuji's) body adapted to using Shrine. However, Sukuna have only been in control of Yuji's body and used Shrine twice. What if that was all it was needed to be unlocked for Yuji to later apply his own efforts into using his own version of it?

And Kenjaku knew this. Again, Yuji can suppress Sukuna, but there are expectations. For one, he has to willingly gave up control. Two, if he consumed too many fingers at once. The latter, Jogo knew. And who told him?

Kenjaku.

What if Kenjaku purposely told Jogo that because they wanted Sukuna to have that chance to use his techniques in Yuji's body for Yuji to have?

There's also the tidbit when Kenjaku tells Yuji in 136...

"I expect much from you." Of course, Kenjaku would! Rethinking about the final confrontation in Shibuya, Kenjaku says Yuji's name 4 times, twice in which of making Yuji an example. While it makes it's easier to understanding what Kenjaku is relaying to them, it also comes off like "vessels like the one I created" in a sneaky, bragging way.

That brings to mind this to me from chapter 158.

I brought this up in another post how I joked how Kenjaku already having Yuji signed up in the Game is like a parent who signs their kid up for clubs and whatnot even though the kid doesn't want to.

And well, Kenjaku actually did just that. Not like Yuji willingly signed up. In this case, it was more he was a lab rat Kenjaku was observing. What if this was the time that Kenjaku was continuously watching Yuji to see how he progressed after Shibuya? When they say "I expect much from you" this is what they meant? Yuji's performance in the CG and beyond that?

In 203 with this translation, when Choso questions Kenjaku what's the plan they have for Yuji, Kenjaku responds that Yuji already fulfilled that role with being Sukuna's vessel. Even far as calling Yuji "a thing".

I'll admit I actually was appalled by this because in 160, Kenjaku addresses Yuji as "my son" to a girl Yuji was schoolmates with. Sasaki isn't some sorcerer, let alone haven't seen Yuji for months and probably won't ever again. There was no benefit to that.

Here's what I think, Kenjaku may feel a blend of both feelings for Yuji. He's their son, but also a thing in which they created.

Both proud that Yuji is their most successful experiment he is. Like, "You're still mine because I created you, I can do what I please, you're nothing more to me but the role I assigned you".

I also think when it came to Choso, Kenjaku could have just not wanted to reveal anything to him and at the same time set him off to throw him off his game. Again, Kenjaku likes to have a laugh.

There's also that "He will become the eye of the storm of the new era". Talking about Yuji here. This line of dialogue just feels like Kenjaku dismissing Sukuna in a way that's like... I don't know how else to explain it because to me, if Yuji was meant to be Sukuna's vessel I feel like Kenjaku probably would bave said something like "Sukuna will once more be the eye of the storm".

Back to my original point. What if this was Kenjaku saying Yuji is to be the next Sukuna? A better Sukuna? A new King of Curses?

Think of what an eye of a storm is like. That's the safest place right? The place one would want to be. The safest place while everything else falls into destruction. That works for both Yuji and Sukuna. They both have this aura to them that attracts others in a way that's either "I fear you", "I'll be your ally" or "I want to challenge you".

Sukuna and Yuji have a lot of bad things happen around them. Sukuna relishes in it while Yuji doesn't. This is just one of the many instances that they do mirror and oppose each other.

With this "eye of the storm" line it also sounds like Kenjaku has no intention of making Yuji being included in the Merger. It's an unnecessary line really if Kenjaku had plans to make this one huge monstrosity of a curse by combining everyone to Tengen. Why say "the new era" bit?

Was Yuji meant to lead as a beacon of sorts? Like, how Sukuna did in his time?

And I say Yuji because once more, what if that was the intention? To create someone that could surpass Sukuna? Challenge him and replace him?

If Kenjaku could just assign bodies, why not have it for Sukuna instead of birthing a cage for him? Also, why seem so interested in Yuji's progress? Why say one thing about Yuji and then be contradicting the next? Couldn't have used Jin's body? Watch Yuji's every move since the beginning because let's be real, Kenjaku probably planted that finger at the school for Yuji to find and either way was going to find a way to get Yuji to consume that finger. Which makes it stranger that this happens months before the CG! What if that was Yuji's headstart to get him progress?

The Merger may be for laughs, but what if whatever the outcome was of that Merger was going to be Yuji's next challenge?

To finish off, I think Kenjaku had plans for Sukuna to just be someone to be challenged by their creation. A creation meant to replace him. Sukuna is more adapted to the old ways, but Kenjaku tends to be more open minded to the eras evolving. Probably exhausted from Sukuna's ever repeating cycle of being "the King of Curses" and decided to create the very person that could be the evolved version of him. A version of him that's even greater than Sukuna.

What if Yuji wasn't just born to be Sukuna's vessel? What if Sukuna was just meant to be that stepping stone for Yuji to awaken into someone better, someone greater, someone that could replace Sukuna and that accomplishment that Kenjaku wanted to claim and use to mock Sukuna?

Yuji is the soul nephew of Sukuna, their souls have even intertwined and they do share much in common. They're two halves of the same whole.

Yuji is that challenge, he's Sukuna's mirror. A Sukuna, in a way, that could have been.

His existence is like Kenjaku's way of saying "your greatest enemy is yourself".