#an unseen king au

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, loss of virginity (reader's) Sukuna fks reader with both his cocks, (yayyy) lots of use of all his tongues and mouths, some semi public play, Sukuna calls you little bunny and slutty/whore etc, soft Sukuna, he's falling fast tbh, reader is falling quicker, lil bit of degradation, true form Sukuna, THIS CHAP IS ALMOST ALL SMUT lol you're warned.

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, Four Parts, you're not gonna get much plot, I really wanted monsterfucking and them being cute!? don't ask.- WC this chap-7.2k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated if you like this silly stuff ❤️

<<<Part Two part four>>>

Part Three

One week Later

You have not seen the King of curses for days, he had gone off to take care of some disturbances amassing, and was not coming home until hopefully tonight. You find yourself looking hopefully every time there is a knock on your door to your chambers, or every time you hear horses pull up out front. But it’s not him, and the worst?

You did not get to tell him goodbye beforehand.

Of course, he does not owe you such things, and it was very new, but you already have grown to be enamored with him, so very intrigued, and… of course you desire him. It’s written all over your body, all over your face, even days later you have bruises decorating your waist and hips from where his strong hands gripped, little scratches healing where nails had pressed in

You remember the feeling, so blissful that night right on the dining table, he’d brought you so much pleasure you felt more drunk than any amount of wine could ever make you. You can’t even imagine how it could get better, how there could be even more to sex than that, but then you remember those hard cocks, pressed against your eager pussy.

Heat creeps to your cheeks at such a memory, you are pacing the halls when Uraume comes up to you, a little smile on their delicate features.

“The King has arrived.” Uraume says now, and your breath catches, you let out an embarrassing squeal, that you quickly try to hide, clearing your throat and tucking back your hair.

“Apologies, Uraume.” You bow your head, trying to regain composure.

“You’re very excited, I see.”

You sigh. “Very.”

“He wants you to meet him in the Onsen, I shall lead you there.” You heat up all over again, at the thought of being with the King there.

“Will we be alone?” You murmur, while Uraume leads you out, they tilt their head curiously at you.

“Are you asking if his concubines will bathe with you as well? No, the King has asked for you both to be alone.” You truly give up trying to hide how pleased this makes you.

You should not expect such treatment, it is not how things are even done, a King is expected to engage with his concubines and have several babies, have many heirs, it’s a sign of his fertility. You see them talking about you as they walk through the halls, in elegant kimonos showcasing much of their sleek forms, whispering behind their hands at you.

You cannot help but resent them, knowing they have had him, but it was surely foolish, they have done more than you already have with him, but you are ready, to truly give the King yourself. Though there is much to learn about the somehow cruel yet kind man, one thing was certain.

You want him.

A lady’s maid helps you undress, until you’re completely naked, your chest rising and falling with each nervous breath. You take the wrapped clothes and towel as you nervously slide the door open, feeling the hot steam rise, you see it then, his strong, muscled back as he is alone in the spring. Your eyes assess every inch you get to see greedily.

“Shut the door, bunny, you’ll let all the steam out.” Sukuna’s rough voice says then, you quickly do as he asks, setting the clothes and towel down, stepping into the hot bath now, exhaling as the heat sinks into your skin, relaxing every bit of your muscles when you step deeper.

He’s covered in new scars you notice faintly with a frown, he already had many, but as you step closer you get the full view of just how many he has. You stand there behind his towering form, water up to your breasts, when he looks back at you over his shoulder, red eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Wash my back, brat, or are you afraid?” You take the washcloth from his hands now, gently running it up and down.

“You asked for just me here, my King?” Your voice is soft, Sukuna leans his neck side to side, sighing while you gently scrub his skin.

“One bunny should be enough to wash me.” You snort, and he turns now, snatching your wrist, your hand an inch from his skin. “You laugh at me? More insolent from just a few days ago?”

“N-no, sorry my King.” You go to wash his chest, eyes darting up to his here and there, two of his hands rest on your naked waist under the water while his head tilts to study you.

“Something to say? Bunny looks angry.” His tone is mocking, you scowl up at him then, earning a wide grin.

“Ever think that I just missed you!?” He pauses then, four red eyes narrowing, stepping back away from you then. “What?”

“Miss me, you’re fucking foolish. All some ploy to toy with me?” He demands, cupping your chin, long fingers taking it over.

“What, no one has ever said they missed you?” You ask, softer, his grip relaxes, but he’s still cupping you under your chin, thumb over your fluttering little pulse.

“How can you? You do not know me hardly yet to come to miss me. Do you know who I am!?”

“I do, and I missed you. So what, going to order me not to?”

He exhales, stepping closer, the steam enwrapping you all in the beautiful room, lotus flowers floating in the softly undulating water, which laps over his torso and your chest softly. “Why?”

“Why do I miss you? I do not know exactly how to put it into words, I just…” You worry your lower lip nervously, pulling your wrist out of his hold, to rest your hand on his chest, feeling his pounding heart beat under hot skin. “I was very sad without you, and longed for your return.”

“Tch, you are so whiny.” You glare again, but he pulls you against him fully, you blush when you feel his lengths against you, when he leans low, wrapping two arms around you. “I suppose I also wished to hear your annoying voice, and see your stupidly pretty face.”

You brighten up, earning an eye roll. “You did!?”

“Shut it.” He kisses you then, brutal and hungry, you melt into the embrace, his bites making your lips tingle and burn, sharp tongue drinking your every cry, two hands gripping your ass, lifting you until your legs are around his waist, you feel his cocks pressing against you from under, you’re so close to him, grinding now, earning his groan.

The groan urges you on, you’re pressed against the wall of the bath, slick cunt gliding on the length of one of his cocks, his tongue on his stomach shoots out, licking your clitoris, and your head falls back for his sharp teeth. He bites you so hard it breaks your flesh, a trickle of blood falling down your collar bone, which his mouth drinks up, you see the blood on his chin, making him terrifying.

Terrifying and so sexy, you cannot take it then, you swipe some of your blood off him, kissing him and tasting it, the copper of it mixed with his heady taste. You’re rolling your hips, slick and hot against his abdomen, your own nails pressing against him, feeling the strong muscles tense under you.

He lifts you out of the bath then suddenly, you gasp, both of you are dripping water droplets everywhere, the steam floating up and surrounding you both, the room is so warm you are only shivering from desire. Sukuna has you on your back on several fluffy towels, leaning his heavy weight on you. You continue to be devoured by him, he’s kissing down your neck, to your breasts.

“This body, fuck.” He growls out the words, huffing while he sucks on your nipples, fingers slipping down your tummy, which trembles under his rough fingers, your back arching.

“Please, my King, touch me.” You beg now, he takes two fingers while two hands spread your thighs, sinking two thick fingers in your cunt, making you scream, while he presses up over and over on that spongy spot in your eager hole.

“Soaking wet, and begging, you’re so easy, so desperate, hmm?” You manage a glare, which he seems to entice him, he’s grinning down at you.

You take one of his cocks in your hand, watching him fall apart from a touch, his red eyes dilating so that they’re all almost black, hands touching every inch of skin he can find. “You’re so easy, mmm did you miss me?”

“I did not miss you at all, damned brat.” You giggle, but then his fingers are replaced by the head of one of his cocks, the other resting on top of your clit. You gasp as you feel the mushroomed reddened tip against that slick, the other dripping precum on you, creating pressure just from that. “Nothing else to say?”

“I… you… n-no, y-yes!” He doesn’t make fun of your pathetic little attempt to speak this time, he exhales, pressing in, and you feel so stretched just by his tip it’s insanity, even two of his fingers could not prepare you.

He sinks deeper then, pushing past that barrier, and you scream out, he pauses, leaning over you and allowing you to adjust, before pulling back, he’s on his knees, two hands gripping your hips, your back arches off the floor. Your hair is splayed on the towels, soaking wet still, while he stretches and fills you. You both moan out when your walls spasm around him.

“You’re… t-too big…” You whine, much to his amusement, two of his hands grip your breasts, the tongues lapping out all over them.

“I’m barely in, brat.” You gasp, eyes wide open, looking down, and he pushes even further, your wetness pooling around him, making it easier for Sukuna’s cock to sink even deeper in your little hole. “Still not even half in, f-fuck you’re too tight… loosen up this instant, I command it!”

“Loosen!? What!? Ah!” You scream out as he stuffs you more, and soon the pain is dissipating, replaced by insane pleasure, he moans out now, his cock inside you and the other, grinding on your clit, when he pulls that one out, leaning you up, pressing the other one inside you now, the lower cock grinding against your ass, feeling so lewd and so good.

“That’s it, look at you, taking me so well, cunt is made for her king.” He’s huffing now, and chuckles, grabbing your chin when your eyes roll back. “Look, fucking you so deep- ha. Can see me.”

You look down, seeing the bulge of your tummy as he moves slowly inside of you, only serving to make you wetter, more sensitive, you scream out then when he sinks so deep he hits your cervix, bottoming out in you. The sight is so wanton and lewd, only serving to make you wetter, more sensitive, your eyes shoot back to his, he’s watching his cock move in you, watching your tummy move.

“Going to ruin you, little prey.” Sukuna is whispering the words, and you are wriggling under him at the pressure, at the stimulation, his tongue in his stomach lapping at your clit again, then.

“Too much, too much I’m - ah!” You shatter then, falling apart all around the thick cock pummeling you now, faster and harder, his huge body overtaking you, you’re seeing little glittery stars, more intense than you’ve felt before with him even.

“That’s it, cumming so easy, your first time, too?” He’s teasing you with a gruff voice, you’re too far gone now though, not even here anymore, shaking as you struggle to stay tethered. “Ready for me to stop taking it easy?”

“Taking it easy- wh-what now?” He’s grinning wickedly, those four eyes all lidded, when he presses your thighs up high, folding you in half. “Sukuna!”

“You can take it bunny, be a good girl would you?” You’re being pumped so full then it’s insane, you hear the loud smacks of skin while one of his cocks is fucking into your heat, he keeps dragging you on each one, your cunt is drooling down their veiny lengths, while your mouth is drooling, he swipes some of it with a smirk. “Pathetic, fucked out little bunny.”

You want to retort, you want to glare, but you are indeed pathetic, when he’s fucking you like this, harder and harder, so deep as he smushes your body, you feel like you’re splitting in half. Just as you get used to one sensation, one hand is licking your tits, your neck, his tongues alternate lapping at your clit, his cock shifts to the other one. Now he’s thickening in you, two hands pulling on your hair.

“Can’t wait till I can put both in you… fill your body fucking everywhere.” Your cunt is so slick it’s slippery, even as huge as he is, she’s sucking him in, and it feels so fucking good, him fucking into you over and over. “Feel so fucking- f-fuck…”

Sukuna is cussing, that mixing with the squelching wetness and loud slaps of skin intermingles with your cries, echoing in the Onsen. You wriggle to pull back but he pins your hips, Sukuna is pounding your pussy beyond its limits, switching cocks again, while his hands and mouths devour every inch of you, littering you with marks and bruises that you crave.

“That’s it, bunny, want this heir inside of you? I’m going to put one there, right fucking there.” He whispers, pressing a hand on your tummy, and you whine pathetically unable to form a coherent thought. “Beg for it, to get filled by your king.”

“P-please, f-fill me. Give me… your heir…” You manage to squeak out, you can barely recognize your hoarse little whimper, while Sukuna growls right above you, your hands yank him down by his broad muscled shoulders, pulling his mouth to yours. “K-kiss me.”

“Demanding little-” Too late, you’re pulling this strong man down on you, while his hands press into the backs of your thighs bruisingly and his cock is shoved so deep, he moans right into your lips, as he brings you again, his tip dragging against your spot in your walls, while one of his tongue shoots out on your clit again, circling the little nub while he moans into your mouth.

“S-Sukuna!” You scream out hoarsely, unlatching your lips, taking several greedy breaths while he pushes so deep, drooling tip on your cervix. He gasps himself now, tensing, as you both kiss sloppy, he pulls back and exhales against your lips.

“Let me feel you cumming on my cock again, Bunny. Now.” You let him think it’s his order, but you’re already there, orgasm blinding you, your head would slam on the floor if one of his hands wasn’t carefully resting under it, you cum all over his cock, dripping everywhere, while he fills you so full, groaning against your lips.

Your walls are pulsing around his thick cock, milking him for everything he has, and he’s cumming so much, one cock filling you while the other pumps hot sticky cum on your tummy, painting your skin in white rope patterns. It stretches from your belly button up between your breasts. The heat of his cum makes you clench around him, while his strong arms drag you further on his length.

“S-Sukuna!” You’re sobbing now, you can barely fucking breathe when he’s still got you stuffed so full.

“Took all of it, and need more? You have such a greedy cunt.” Sukuna whispers, you try to focus on his face, try to bring yourself to, entire body tingling from the sensations.

“F-fuck…” Is all you manage, he snorts a bit, pulling out, moaning as the fluids of his cum and yours pour out of your abused pussy.

“Such a nasty mouth.” You halfheartedly glare, but it falls flat, when he’s bent down, pulling your puffy lips apart, the most satisfied smirk ever on his face. He then presses his fingers down the sticky substance coating your tummy, pussy, thighs, it’s all over, the mess he’s made you into.

“You’re so messy.” He bursts into a booming laughter at you now, he then dips a cloth into the water, handing it to you. “You’ll do it.”

“What now?” He raises a brow, and you raise one back.

“You made the mess, you will clean it.” He scoffs at you, but you shove the washcloth back in his hand, smiling and batting your lashes. “Go on now.”

“You insolent little brat. I am not your servant, I’m your king.” He cleans you though, swiping the mess off your tummy, then to your pussy, chuckling. “Wrecked you didn’t I?”

“Why did I miss you!? Ow!” You hiss now, blanching a bit when you see a little blood on the cloth. “What is-”

“It happens the first time.” He carries on, until you’re all cleaned up, pulling you to sit now, hands tracing your bare body, still dewy from the bath. “You loved it, what a slutty virgin you were.”

“You’re so arrogant and annoying.” You smack at his hands now, going to stand, only to wobble on shaky legs. He’s laughing even more, wrapping arms around your hips.

“You can’t even fucking walk, hah! Shall I have a servant carry you, weakling?”

“Sure, naked and all, let them.” You shove off him again, knees damn near knocking when you turn away, only for Sukuna to yank you back against him, you feel the fury in his energy rising. “What is it, my King? Aren’t you done?”

“Done with you? Fuck no.” He starts walking you to where the towels are, wrapping you carefully, slinging a towel over his hips low, showing every inch of his tattooed, muscled frame. “Stop drooling, human.”

“You’re infuriating!” You feel it then, emotions of what just happened, finally hitting, when your mind is trying to piece together what happened.

“Tch, don’t start that crying now. I have told you it irritates me.” He cups your face, tilting your chin up as he leans down. “Stop it.”

“You’re arrogant and conceited, and rude! Do you not know… how it feels to for the first… how I…”

“Stop. I order it.”

“You can’t order tears away, all right? I want you to hold me, not laugh at me.” He tenses, hating the sight of the tears glimmering now.

“You’re so demanding, can’t you be a good wife, an easy one?”

“I suppose I cannot.” You turn and stomp out now, only for King Sukuna to chase you out in his towel. “Go away!”

“Don’t you dare speak that way.”

“Ah!” Sukuna has hoisted you over his shoulders as the concubines walk by, many of them eyeing you, Sukuna glares at them.

“What the fuck are you all looking at?” His towel drops then, and they are now giggling, Sukuna sets you on the floor, looking only at you. “Fix my towel, wife.”

You bend down, grabbing it with shaky hands, while they start whispering again amongst themselves, the guards are also watching with surprise and amusement while you tie a knot around his thick hips. The bulge of his cocks, which are still semi hard, is apparent, earning the ogling of the women.

Sukuna however just grabs you by the wrist, dragging you past them, without a look, turning when you get to his bedroom door and smirking down at you. “You’re a jealous brat.”

“Am not!” You cross your arms, huffing, but you do smile as you hear their footsteps scampering. “Your chambers?”

“Indeed, I said I’m not done with you.” He opens the heavy door, revealing the grand chamber that is his own, filled with ornate furniture, silk curtains billowing from the windows. A massive bed that could fit a dozen people adorned with crushed purple velvet covers and a black canopy.

“Your bed is so…”

“It’s made to fit many women. But my itty bitty bunny seems greedy.” He murmurs, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click, you exhale, walking to it, dropping your towel on the floor and peering over your shoulder. “Fuck… that backside will looks so good with my handprints.”

“Your handprints?” He walks to you, pausing your hand that is touching the soft blankets.

“Bend over.” His order thrills and terrifies you.

“No.”

“No!?” You grin, moaning softly when he does lift you, your legs dangling off the tall mattress, suspended there with your ass shown to him, earning a loud smack that you gasp at. “I see I will need to discipline you, hmm?”

“It is your duty as a husband.” You murmur, moaning when he smacks you again, two of his hands are spreading your ass cheeks apart, exposing your heat to his vision, he moans behind you.

“This gets you wet? Does everything I do get you wet?” He smacks you again, you just moan, you cannot help it, the pain just urges your drippy cunt on, still having him leak out of you.

“Y-yes, my King. It does- mnh.” Sukuna climbs on the bed, propping you on all fours, one hand shoving your face into the mattress, you hear the creak of his weight sinking on it, before you feel something hot and sticky drip down your ass. “What are you doing?”

He smacks your pussy now, you scream out into the pillow, while his saliva drips down your open pussy, then you feel his tongue lapping at you again. “You’re still pouring my seed out, perhaps I need to put more in you?” You moan then, shifting your hips, he chuckles. “So fucking eager.”

“You love it.” He pauses, lifting his hand off your head, you look back and bite your lip, shaky and overstimulated, but you want it, all of him again. “I am sore though, ah!”

“We need you to get used to this, I will not just fuck my bride once and call it a day.” His tongue slips inside your folds, pressing deeper, cleaning out all of his cum that’s left, slipping up to lap at your ass hole, he laughs as you squeak. “Ah and that’s your other hole.”

“I… you… now!? I…”

He clicks his tongue, letting his hand now grip your backside instead. “Not yet, calm down. Prissy bunny.”

“M’not- oh, oh!” He’s slipped a thumb inside your little ass hole now, moaning out as you do at the sensation, while he starts rubbing each tip back between your sore lips, precum already dripping out of them.

“You like it, such a whore already huh?” You should hate the term, but the way he says it, so pleasing. “My whore, aren’t you?”

“M’yours- Sukuna!” He’s pressing one tip, then the other, his body tensing as he feels your tight cunt drooling on them. “Not both, there’s no way I can.”

Sukuna rolls all four eyes, slipping between your folds, pressing one of his cock heads in, then the other. “Not all the way in, relax. An order.”

You’re still tense, while two strong hands spread your thighs while the other two run up and down your back, then he smacks your ass again. “Ah!”

“Breathe.”

You exhale nervously, and then you feel one tip press in, he fucks you just barely with it, you damn near cum from just that, before he’s got the other tip slipping in your entrance, his fingers leaving your ass and he’s rubbing a tip there too. You tense all over again, earning another smack.

“Relax, an order.” You exhale, nodding, and soon both tips are pressed in your tiny entrance, stretching you beyond your means, you can barely breathe, while he’s tensing behind you, pressing them both in, they rub and drool together while you feel the insane pressure in your lower tummy.

“Too much, too much!” You whine, and he exhales, pulling one out, sliding one fully in now, to the hilt. “Ah! S’good… please…”

“Please what, slutty fucking brat?” He huffs the words, you’re clutching the soft velvet with your hands, when he takes them and bounds them behind your wrist, fucking you harder and harder. “Fuck you feel so… perfect this cunt is… m-made… for…”

You swear you hear the King of Curses whimper.

Surely it was an illusion?

“More, please.” Is all you whine, and he does just that, pulling back out and slipping both tips in your cunt he’s stretched so well, he can only get the tips in still, but you’re cumming all over them, while your wrists are in his brutal grip, he’s rolling his hips, feeling you grip him like a fucking vise.

“F-Fuck.” He whispers your name then, not bunny or brat, a desperate cry escaping his mouth when he pumps his two tips in you over and over, gummy little walls and that tight ring of muscles stretching and gushing to accommodate. “That’s it, cum f’me, huh?”

You’re screaming against the soft pillows while you do, cumming all over the thick invasion in your cunt, they can’t even go deeper, she won’t allow it, but she’s throbbing around his drooly tips, begging for it, for more. He’s gripping your hips while he’s gripping your wrists, you’re at his mercy, helpless.

“Feel her, f-fuck. M’gonna cum in her again, both of em. Is that what you want?” You nod weakly. “Then say you want me to, now.” He uses a fourth hand to smack your ass, the smack echoing in the room, stinging. You turn your head to look back at him, gasping for a breath.

“Cum in me… with both. Please, Sukuna.” He groans out, pumping fast for a moment, his tips alone are burning your skin, he sinks just an inch in deeper, the stretch exhilarating, and then he starts spurting. “Ah!”

“Getting you pregnant tonight, wife, filling your fucking stomach with me.” He huffs, then the cum is pouring inside of your hole, the hot seed coating all your walls, bringing you to climax just from that again, you are too full, too full of him. He’s leaning over you, both cocks barely nestled, while he puts his lips to your ear. “Feel me?”

“All of you.” Your words and your cunt contracting make him sensitive, earning more seed sucked out, he pulls back and leans back to watch it all pour out while you weakly cry against the blankets, overwhelmed and fucked out.

“Look at how good she did.” He muses, and then his face is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at the drooling cum oozing out. “Taste us together.”

He pulls you up by your hair, arching your back, you open obediently as he spits in your mouth now, his cum, yours, and his saliva dripping, you swallow it, before he’s kissing you just like that, head upside down for his kisses, his hands everywhere on your bruised body. Soon he’s got you flipped and you’re straddling him, tears pouring on your cheeks.

“I’ll have my heir in your tummy by the end of the night, won’t I Bunny?” You nod weakly, wincing when he slides against your cunt.

“Ah-ah-ah!”

“You’re weak, can’t go again?” He earns a little shake of your head and a sniffle. “Fine, fine… I’ll let your pathetic human body rest.”

“Pathetic!?”

“Pretty but pathetic.” Soon he’s dressed in his robes, and you’re so weak you can barely move. You look at him through sleepy eyes.

“Must I leave now?”

“Tch, no, you may stay.”

“The night!?”

Sukuna rolls all four eyes. “If you must.”

“Yay!” You giggle, energy abounding suddenly, you jump off the bed and pull him down by his robes.

“So happy from just that?” He raises a brow, you just nod, pulling him for a kiss, hand entangled in pastel locks. He pulls back and cups your face, overwhelming you with all the emotions he unknowingly elicits, when your tummy growls.

“I’m so sorry!” You mumble, but he smirks.

“You need to eat, get your strength for another round.”

“No more rounds tonight, I cannot handle it.”

“You’ve got another in you. But you will eat, I’ll have them bring you up a tray of dinner. I still have much to do.” You pout. “What’s that look!?”

“An - I want another kiss- look.” He snorts, but obliges, hot lips on yours once more.

“You enjoy that overmuch, look at you all pleased.” You grin big, he pretends it doesn’t make his chest ache.

“Kissing you? Yes. I think it’s my new favorite thing.” You murmur, but he tenses just a bit at that, confused by you, before his shoulders relax and his lips are turned up at the corners.

“You’re cockdrunk again, little slut.” He loves how mad you get, while you cross your arms under those breasts, making him hard all over again.

“Am not!”

“Are so. Need another round?” He runs his fingers through your messy hair, a sheen of sweat making your smooth skin glitter.

“I hurt, though Sukuna.” You say with a pout.

He sighs in annoyance. “You’re such a baby. Now let me leave.” He steps back, shooting you a look, eyes drinking in your bare skin. “I’ll send up some things like your robes to keep in my chambers.”

Staying in Sukuna’s chambers!?

“Could you not look so pleased?” You straighten up, bowing your head, to his amusement as he steps out, he doesn’t see the silly giggle you do, and you don’t see his little hint of a smile.

What sort of bride has he gotten?

*****

Sukuna comes in later that night and sees you lightly snoring, so small in his enormous bed, curled in a little ball shivering, somehow you’ve kicked the blankets off you he notices. He undresses and slips under the covers, he’s of course had many women in his bed, but for some reason he is just a little nervous, until you blink sleepy eyes at him.

“Kuna.” You murmur, he snorts at that, while you turn to him, snuggling up, your icy hands and feet pressing against his hot skin.

“What is that name, and why are you so cold, woman? Cease touching me this very instant.” He tries to push you away, but you snuggle even closer. “You little pest, I swear to the gods.”

“You’re so warm, Kuna. Mmm.” Again, he hears the name, while you snuggle to him for warmth, curled up like a damn cat, warming up your chilled fingers while his hands all hold away from you, unsure of just what to fucking do with you.

“I will kick you on the fucking floor if you do not warm up.” You blink sleepy eyes up at him, cupping his face now, he glares at you.

“I am warming up, on you.” You scooch even closer, loving the feeling of his warm, hot body on yours. “I touched myself while you were gone.”

“What now!?” You’re giggling again, head in a daze from his orgasms and the wine that came with dinner, a meal you devoured, fucking certainly worked up an appetite it seems.

“Yes, but I did not do a good job, I think I have much to learn.”

“You will not touch yourself without me here again, that’s an order.” You smile against his chest, snuggling even closer, enjoying him tensing.

“Oh, why not?”

“Because…” He slips a hand under your robe, pressing against your aching cunt, slipping his fingers between glistening folds. You moan softly. “She is mine. I’ll not have you touching her without my permission.”

“Yours?” You whisper, he snorts, shoving your head back against him.

“How did I get the most annoying bride? Was there no one else in the village but your bratty ass?”

You scoff, before inhaling his scent, so musky and alluring. “Meanie. Hmm, you smell so good, Kuna.”

“Cease that stupid name, now. And why are you sniffing me?”

“Hmm, but you call me bunny.” You mumble, yawning. “And you sniff my hair and neck, so.”

“Psh.” He will not say so, but he’s enjoying you all over him far too much, you snuggling him, your tiny little body against his enormous one. He wants to protect you from anything and everything, it’s all setting in, he hates it, the irritating feeling clenching his chest.

And you feel like he will protect you, his four arms wrapping around you finally, wide muscled thigh pressing between your legs, he feels so perfect and warm. You’re still aching from earlier, where he’s just touched, but you damn near could go again, she’s throbbing around nothing when one of his huge hands presses on your back, and the other brushes across your cheek.

“Can I stay here every night?” You ask, eyes shutting again, you battle to keep them open, but you’re losing.

“Every night? How annoying.” Sukuna can’t really imagine you not staying here every night, though. “Sleep before I occupy your bratty mouth.”

“Again!?” You feel his cocks start to press against you, he chuckles, shaking his entire body.

“I could go all day and all night. Ah, shutting up now I see?”

You are already drifting off to sleep in your new husband’s arms, you thought it would be so terrible, losing your innocence, laying under him, bearing him a future heir, but it was as far from that as anything could be. It was amazing, your sore, aching body melting against his warmth.

You could quite get used to this.

*****

The Next Week

“Sukuna, what are you doing!?” Your voice is a hasty breath. You are sitting right on Sukuna’s lap in the throne room, as he plays with your drippy wet cunt, rolling his long, rough fingers on your engorged little clit.

“Touching my wife, why?” He whispers in your ear, while the guards align the walls, your eyes roll back, body overheating while you try to keep in your cries. “Oh you love it too, you’re so slutty.”

You frequently sit with him here, and he teases absolutely, but he is sinking two fingers in your pussy, past those gummy little walls, you can hear your squishing under your purple robes, panicking and worrying everyone else can. But it feels so fucking good, you find your hips shifting, thighs opening for more, his fingers up to his knuckles in your wetness.

He moans softly, while more people pour in, they are speaking to him of this problem or that, you’re holding in your cries, no one can see what he’s really doing with how he has you turned towards him, but you can swear they know. It was odd at first, you at every single meeting, to the other nobles, but who are they to question Sukuna? And many times you could calm him.

Somewhat.

Even fingers deep in your pussy he manages to fling someone across the room, knocking over several people like fucking bowling pins, but you sure weren’t able to complain when his tongue on his hand is lapping at you, drinking up the juices that flow all over. You’re about to cum when he pulls back, letting you get a breath, he rests his head on his fist, full of boredom.

He sucks on his fingers, smirking at you, while he handles more, you end up yawning and snuggling against him at a certain point, one of his arms wraps around you, it’s so comfortable here like this. He has to leave again tomorrow and you’re absolutely dreading it, so you’re exceptionally clingy.

“Uraume, get her ready for dinner.” He says later on, when the room has cleared. “Get off me now, brat.”

“Not leaving.” He sighs, picking you up and putting you down now.

“Go on, now. An order.” You sigh, feeling emotions stick in your throat.

“Take me with you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not, it’s dangerous.”

“Then-”

“Go. Get. Ready. For dinner. Don’t give me that look, bunny.” You follow Uraume, they take you to get cleaned up and dressed, Sukuna loves dressing you up for dinner it seems, he has an endless amount of yukatas and jewelry.

“Will you stay for this journey?” You ask Uraume.

“No, my Queen, I'll be joining him.” You frown then, Uraume at least keeps you company when Sukuna was not here, without them you will feel far too lonely in this huge castle.

“You can’t both leave me!” Uraume finishes clasping your necklace now, sighing.

“It will not be too long.”

“But Uraume, do I not have powers?”

“Well they are not trained, and the King cannot risk you. I’m afraid until you get some training-”

“That’s it, you’ll train me!” Uraume blinks at you.

“What now?”

“Yes, you will. I want to be useful, not just flounce around in gowns.”

“The king wants you home flouncing around in gowns though, you need to eat healthy and have heirs, not go off to battles.” Their voice is so calm always, you try to pout but it just doesn’t work on them like it seems to with Sukuna, so you decide to appeal to their logic.

“Uraume, but what if something should happen here? Should I not be equipped for such-”

“See how annoying she is?” Your husband’s voice interrupts now, as he stands in front of your doorway, taking the entirety of it up.

“Kuna…”

“Kuna?” Uraume snorts now, covering their face, earning Sukuna’s glare. “Sorry, my King.”

“Cease that nickname now. What am I hearing echoing through the halls, with your loud ass voice?” You sigh, looking down, fiddling with your hands in front of your lap now. “Do not even give the look of innocence, you’ll not go with us, that was an order.”

“But what about training? You’ll make me pathetic and helpless if someone comes here and attacks the castle!”

“We have guards for that-”

“Please?” You pout, and it ruins him, as it always does. You’re making him irritatingly soft, Uraume can’t help but watch in amusement. 

“I’ll arrange for some training when I return. If you will cease pestering Uraume and get your pretty ass for dinner.” He concedes, you grin so big then, brightening your annoyingly cute face, though he won’t tell you he enjoys it.

“Yay!” You giggle, the irritating sound making him and Uraume cringe just slightly, but Uraume smiles at you and Sukuna when you’re hugging the enormous sorcerer, and he places a hand on your head, brushing your hair back.

“You in these gowns…” His voice is a husky whisper, igniting desire back within you, but when wasn’t it burning?

“Mmm, you enjoy them?” You whisper, trailing your fingers up his bare chest, tracing the black tattoos that decorate his body.

“What a stupid question.”

“I’ll have dinner sent up.” Uraume shuts the door, as the sounds of your moaning and the King’s are soon echoing through the halls.

“We should eat…” You murmur, barely noticing the click of the doors when Sukuna presses you against them, rough kisses down your throat, already peppered with bruises and marks from him. Your hands entangle in his locks, as the words in your heart start to overflow. “Sukuna, I should tell you something before you go.”

“Stop being so sappy, I’ll be fine.” He cuts you off with his hands gripping your breasts over your robe, his other hands kneading at your backside, pulling you against him.

“B-but I need to say something… you’re distracting me!” You moan out then, when he’s biting your collarbone, shoving you harder against the cold door, cupping between your thighs now, making you blinded.

You want to tell him you’re falling for him.

Would he laugh at you?

Would he believe you?

You have no clue, but now your mind is muddled, and every time you go to open your mouth, he’s taking it over again. Your heart is racing in your chest. “Kuna, let me say something first.”

“Hush, would you, woman?” Sukuna kisses you again and again, before sinking to his knees, you whine out, feeling your heat pool in your stomach. He lifts one of your legs over his broad shoulder, breath hot against you. “I’ll eat dinner alright.”

“Ah!” Sukuna’s spreading your lips and swipes his tongue up you, being edged all damn day you’re so sensitive you nearly come then and there. “You never let me finish a sentence. I need to- oh my gods.”

Sukuna’s sharp teeth bite your clit, the sensation making you gasp out, gushing honeyed arousal which he drinks with his tongue and lips. You can hear it, the sounds of him slurping you up, you’re dizzy, lips opening and closing, two red eyes glowing as they watch you, one hand steadying you, another arm wrapping your hips, pressing you against his face.

“L-love… love you…” You finally manage to speak, only for him to pause, pulling back, your slick glistening all over his face. He glares, tongue lapping out to taste you off his lips.

“What nonsense is this!?” He demands.

“Nonsense, it is not, it’s-”

“Nonsense.” You glare now as he stands, towering over you, gripping your face with two huge hands. “Fucking idiocy.”

“Really, Sukuna? That’s really how you’re going to respond?” You feel tears stinging the back of your eyes, breaths coming quicker and quicker, as his words tear you apart.

“You don’t even… that’s not… you don’t.”

“Do not tell me what I feel! Infuriating ass of a man.” Sukuna steps back then, shoving you to the side. “Really, and you’re leaving?”

“I have much to prepare for, and you’re annoying the ever loving fuck out of me. Good night.”

“Good night!?” He slams the door, and you feel yourself whirling with emotions, fucking fury at him, confusion, your body’s reaction to his play, you’re shaky and dizzy suddenly.

You sit down on the floor by the door, hugging your knees and crying into your folded arms, wishing he would come back. But the next morning he is gone, and he did not say a damn word to you, aside from a note he has written informing you of things to take care of while he is gone.

There is a little box, and inside of it is another pretty necklace that you want to fling across the room.

I hope you come to your senses while I’m gone.

Your King.

Your King!? Not your loving husband- well this was Sukuna, but still, you scoff at his audacity, setting the note down and feeling the loneliness start to sink in, and he’s just barely gone. He couldn’t even come say goodbye to you? And this is what he sends you as a farewell?

Why have you fallen in love with such an ass?

Taglist: @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @zwr1tx @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues   @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @suna-is-my-one-and-only @yv-ania @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @jiahu @badnbouj @forbiddenpaste

Rest in the comments! One more fluffy/smutty part hehe <3

[doctorwhoandfairytaillover]

Loving Arms

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part I: An Important Guest

A/N: No pairings as of right now as I want to focus on the familial and platonic relationships with Greens when they're still quite young. This is possibly only the beginning (credit for the divider goes to @kawaii-lau)

126 AC

Some months after the funeral of the Lady Laena Velaryon, wife of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen there was much clamor in the Red Keep. For the eldest daughter of Otto Hightower had been summoned to court after more than a decade away from the intrigue and politics that surrounded the throne and her family. Not much was known about the sister of the Queen apart from what had been known from her previous shorts visits in the early years of her sisters marriage and births of the younger royal children. The elder Hightower girl had been married two years prior to Alicent's own marriage to the King.

Hoping for a future alliance with the house of his eldest daughter's husband, Otto had the girl married to the younger brother of Qoren Martell who served as the reigning Prince of Dorne. But upon the death of his son by law, it was expected by the Hand of the King that his daughter would return to follow her filial duty of remarrying once more upon her return. Only... the man had not accounted for how his grandchildren would come to react to the arrival of their long unseen aunt.

--------

Aemond was positively annoyed with his older brother Aegon, "You could not think to ready yourself for our guests arrival ahead of time? Must you always make the lot of us appear inadequate because you choose to drink yourself into a stupor?"

Halaena, Aegon, and Aemond were specifically told to prepare for an important guests arrival but because of the elder amongst the three not being ready on time, it appeared that they would be late in their greetings. In his haste to reach the throne room faster, Aemond almost stumbled over his own feet and he cursed quietly to himself as he attempted to avoid tripping.

"Need help walking, do you Aemond?" Aegon giggled.

"I can walk just fine," Aemond mumbled. "I simply need a bit more time to recover my sense of balance on account of my... my eye."

The younger Targaryens response quieted his brother and the elder turned his attention to their sister.

"Were you told anything about who our important guest is meant to be?" Aegon asked. "One would think that if they were such an important person, we would all have to be alongside our mother and grandsire by the entrance."

Halaena shook her head, "I think we've met them before, but I cannot be certain if it's who I think it might be."

"Oh and pray tell, wise Halaena. Who could it be?" Aegon mocked.

"Didn't mother happen to receive a raven some weeks ago that our uncle the second prince of Dorne, the husband of our aunt had passed from the sweating sickness."

"Why on earth would that woman come?" the eldest asked, "I don't think she has come to visit King's Landing since the birth of our dear Aemond. Not that I could begrudge the woman, I heard that it was a miracle our grandsire married her to a Dornish prince since she apparently was deformed and all found her a lost cause."

"Perhaps if you listened when Mother informed you about who our guest would be, then we would all know, now wouldn't we?" Aemond huffed. "And don't speak of our aunt that way! Show some respect!"

"It doesn't matter, we will know soon enough if it truly is her or not, and it's not as if our aunt will ever know, I doubt it could be her" Aegon grumbled.

The doors to the throne room were opened upon their arrival and all but one turned to look at the trio that had come into the room quite late. The children could see the frown that their mother wore clear as day when she looked upon them, her disapproval apparent at their actions. While their grandsire had a near equal downturn of his lips but it was more in his eyes that one could see the disappointment at the trio.

"Ah, so good of my grandchildren to finally make their appearance!" said ser Otto. "We had all wondered when you might grace us with your presence!"

Aegon merely rolled his eyes at the words of his grandsire, while Aemond and Halaena looked down in embarrassment.

"Oh come now Father, I am sure that my nephews and niece meant no harm and tried to make haste. They couldn't have expected that I would be the one to arrive."

Three sets of eyes were quick to look over at the person who spoke.

They could only see her profile, but it was apparent that the person could be no other person than their elusive aunt. The eldest daughter to Otto Hightower and his wife Alyrie Florten, widow of Prince Doran of House Martell, the Lady (Y/N) Hightower.

She wasn't an imposing figure, in fact, compared to her father and younger sister. Their aunt was not much, but... that is actually something that they appreciated about the woman. All their lives, the siblings had such imposing men and women that surrounded them or directed them at all times, but not (Y/N). She stood out in a gentle way, a steadiness to her presence. Unlike the prim and elegant hairstyles of the court, it was loosened and decorated with a few blossoms. Her gown was a pale green and embroidered with the symbols of both her own house and that of her late husband, with towers and suns. But most of all, there was no dismay in her gaze as she looked at them from the corner of her eye, rather she smiled affectionately and warmly.

"Come children," Alicent guided them closer. "Come and greet your aunt." And in a harsh whisper to Aegon said, "And don't even think about commenting on her appeareance!"

When their aunt fully turned to them, all held back a gasp when they saw her full countenance. A glassy grey eye stood out on the left hand side of her face that had obviously been burned. Carefully she stepped toward them and the three were ushered forward until they stood only a step away from her.

Unwaveringly she smiled at the trio and approached Aegon first, "You have grown much in the time since I last saw you."

Hesitantly, she reached to cup his face in her hand and the boy flinched, this stopped her movements and made her smile drop slightly. Carefully she waved her hand and asked, "May I?"

Tentatively, Aegon nodded and allowed his aunt to softly cradle his face in her hands. Her one good eye flickered across his face and she smiled at him once more, "Such a handsome young man. Must be the Hightower in you, because you and I seem to share the good looks."

His aunt's comment seemed to release the breath that the group was holding, because Aegon, Halaena, and Aemond couldn't help but giggle. A soft warmth settling in their bodies as they attempted to stifle their uncontrollable laughs.

Alicent saw their laughter as rude and intended on scolding them, but a raised hand from her sister was enough to have her hold her tongue.

Stepping away from her elder nephew, (Y/N) noticed how Halaena's gaze shifted away from her own and understood. She simply curtsied to the girl, "I look forward to getting know you more Halaena and perhaps you could show me your things of interest."

Halaena timidly smiled and curtsied in return, "I like all sorts of insects."

"I am sure you do, sweet girl."

And lastly, her gaze turned to her younger nephew that was shuffling nervously where he stood.

Quietly he asked, "Does it still hurt you?"

Her smile never wavered as she answered, "Thank you for your kind consideration, nephew. Sometimes, it does ache but I am fine now."

A gentle calm settled amongst them, but it was disturbed when ser Otto cleared his throat. "Come, dinner has been prepared and we have dallied long enough. I am sure you have needed a hearty meal."

"Of course, Father" (Y/N) agreed. "I am sure we can continue with pleasantries over a delicious meal."

The Hand of the King, carefully led his daughters out the room and so everyone else took this as a sign to clear the area. But the siblings stayed behind, a clear look between them that there were things they would need to talk about.

Tag List:

@minaxcarter, @hotleaf-juice, @pikomin, @deltamoon666, @cococrazy18, @firefairy, @dracaryxzs, @snowbunny58, @lacherrysouldy, @only4thefics, @queen-luna-007, @ambrivertenergy, @kayllineb12

[r0-boat]

Mirror Mirror

Whb!Lucifer X Gm!Reader X Obeyme!Lucifer

AU where MC somehow as access to both dimensions... I don't know some ch16 Barbatos bullshit

Porn with plot... So this is part one

Part two

You wander around hell a lot...

It is common knowledge that despite the danger of you wandering around with dangerous devils and even more dangerous angels, it is very difficult to get you to stay in one place.

But they didn't know that sometimes you won't even be in their game of existence.

You had no idea how or when you got this power... You were suddenly summoned to an unknown place at an unknown time.

The refined gentleman before you who shared the name of the familiar devil from Hades profusely apologized but explained where you are and why you're here. His handsome face, horns, and split tails were all too familiar to you, So when his silver-tongued, refined voice told you that his world needed your help, You blindly listened to him.

After all, devils don't lie, right?

So there you were, balancing the existence of two worlds on your shoulders, spending time with the kings and going to meetings at the same time, rushing into the world of The Devildom to make it in time for class.

It was hard yet fun... Time moved a lot slower in Hell than in The Devildom. The seven in this world are much different yet somehow similar to the Seven you know of. It was so hard not to get attached. And they seem to like you too!

But over time, certain devils started to notice little things.

The sharpest devil in the Devildom Lucifer.

Your late arrivals have begun to increase lately. What was more confusing is that Mammon or any of his brothers didn't seem to know where you were, and then it was the strange scent he picked up when he held you close.

It was a late night, and you would come in with a cup of coffee and place it on his study table. He smiles, his eyes asking you for a hug, and you know exactly what he wants. He buried his nose into your neck, and that's when an unfamiliar scent shot through him. It was about a couple hours old and mingling with your natural human scent and the shampoo body wash you use. But he'd memorized your sense to know this one was alien; even more strange was the way you reacted when he pointed it out, and all he said was. "Are you trying new colognes with Asmodeus?"

He saw your face turn white, or you stumble over your words for an excuse... Odd... Very odd.

On the other side, Lucifer's wisdom and intelligence are almost unrivaled. He is a doctor, after all. He knows your body in and out. However, you tried concealing your packed marks with magic during an exam. You don't know how, but Lucifer could still sense something on your skin. Angels could sense when a human is connected to a devil. It is not only weaker now that he is no longer an angel but also quite useless since he has not been with humans since the Garden of Eden. But somehow, he could feel that you had pact marks...

They felt different. They were not like Solomon's... They were yours... At first, he thought he was feeling things, So he said nothing. But He noticed you're strange need to be alone and be gone for hours.

As much as he was more relaxed than the other kings, Lucifer took your safety more seriously than any king could be , But if you were doing something dangerous, he had to know... You are not only important to all of hell but to him as well.

It was night on both sides. Everyone went to sleep in the house of lamitation, and Lucifer retired from his studies. You were still awake, stepping quietly to reach the back garden so you could disappear to Hell. You are so caught up on making yourself quiet You had no idea a demon followed you using a spell to make himself unseen.

His eyes went wide as you stepped through a portal... He knew that magic...

Barbatos

And it was coming from something around your neck.

Whatever it was, You were going somewhere that he did not know or approve of, And he had to follow you to drag your ass back and demand an explanation. You jumped when he felt a gloved hand on your shoulder the moment you traveled through.

"Lucifer!"

Startling you so much, you stumbled backward into the chest of another. His red eyes widen, and he stares into the shining gaze of his mirror self.

You looked up to see those eyes looking down at your platinum blonde hair, which made your heart go into cardiac arrest as you started to breathe heavily, which was not good when you were in a place where the air was like poison!

Lucifer had no idea where the two of you were seeing the unfamiliar demon. He could feel his power rivaling that of himself, so his first instinct was to cradle you in his chest to protect you, but when this mysterious demon spoke your name and came to your aid. He said as if he knew you; he spoke as if he was close to you.

His heart squeezed. A possessiveness overcame him as he growled, an arm holding your shoulder, pulling you to him. "Don't touch them! Who are you?"

The usually calm and collected Lucifer's eyebrow twitched. This black hair devil's hold seemed protective; He was not just any devil. He could feel the power radiating from him, rivaling that of himself. His wings were feathered like an angel's; instead of white, they were pitch black...

Whatever he was, He was an unknown devil with his hand on you, and if he were a threat, then he would be eliminated.

The two Lucifers glared each other down, and your hands shook. Your vision was practically spinning. The fear of this situation, the stress of days before, and the feeling of your lungs squeezing and your body growing weak. You didn't know who you grabbed, but you grabbed someone's shirt as you called out, "Lucifer, please!"

[this-life-was-amazing]

Polites froze, his lips lingering near Odysseus's cheek as the words registered, echoing in his mind. For a moment, he was utterly still, caught off guard in a way he hadn't anticipated. Somehow, the kisses hadn't flustered him - but those three simple words did. "I…" Polites began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. His gaze softened, his voice quiet but earnest as he finally spoke. "I… I love you too, Odysseus."

P...Polites...?

Odysseus couldn't believe it. His friend, the one he thought he lost to the lotus, was here.

It's me, Od-- Right. The curse, it made... Polites wouldn't recognise him.

I-... Nevermind. I'm... I'm Ulysses.

- @unseen-king

"Hm?" Upon hearing his name, the ghost turned his head, giving the 'stranger' a warm smile. "Well, hello!" Polites momentarily looked 'Ulysses' up and down, gears clearly turning behind his eyes. There was a familiarity there, but one he couldn't quite place. There was a warmth in his now normally cold chest that he only ever felt when thinking of one person... but something kept him from making everything click, from connecting the normally obvious dots. And that fact, knowing something was wrong but not being able to place what frustrated him. Polites shook his head to get himself out of his thoughts, realizing he was staring while trying to figure things out. "Apologies, I didn't mean to stare- I'm not normally so rude, I promise-" "Have we met before?"

[urdnotstxrm]

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen & Reader

AU: The Targaryen family dynamics are a blend of political intrigue and personal emotions. Rhaenyra Targaryen, the strong-willed and fiery daughter of King Viserys, is caught in a dilemma. Her father has decreed that for her to secure the Iron Throne, she must marry your brother, a match designed to solidify alliances and secure her claim. Despite this, Rhaenyra's heart belongs to you.

The evening was lively as Rhaenyra Targaryen graced your family's household with her presence. Laughter and conversation filled the air inside the grand hall, where your family and Rhaenyra's entourage were gathered. The warmth of the fire and the clinking of goblets created a vibrant atmosphere. However, Rhaenyra's mind was elsewhere. Excusing herself from the festivities, she made her way outside, her steps guided by an unseen force. In the cool evening air, she walked towards the stables, drawn by a feeling she could not ignore. The sound of hooves and the gentle whinnying of horses filled the silence. There, she found you, brushing down one of the horses, the lantern's light casting a soft glow on your face. She paused, watching you for a moment before stepping forward.

"I thought I might find you here," she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of relief and longing. "The celebrations inside... they feel so distant compared to this." You looked up, surprise flashing in your eyes before it was replaced by a warm, welcoming smile. "Rhaenyra," you greeted her, setting aside the brush. "I didn't expect you to come out here."

"I needed some air," she admitted, moving closer. "And perhaps... I needed to see you." She reached out, gently touching the side of the horse, her fingers brushing against yours. The simple contact sent a thrill through you both. "You should be inside, enjoying yourself," you said, though there was no real conviction in your voice.

"I don't want to marry your brother," she whispered, her hand moving to rest on your chest, her voice trembling. "I can't imagine a life with him when my heart belongs to you. Please, go to my father and ask for my hand. It's the only way we can be together." She leaned in, her forehead resting against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. Her words struck a deep chord within you, the longing in her eyes mirrored in your own. But you knew the truth, a truth that weighed heavily on your heart. "Rhaenyra," you began, your voice soft but firm, "I wish I could. More than anything, I wish I could ask your father for your hand and be with you openly. But I can't." She frowned, confusion and hurt flickering across her face.

"Why not? If we love each other, why can't we be together?" You took a deep breath, steadying yourself for what you had to say. "I yielded my right to the leadership of my house, Rhaenyra. I chose the path of knighthood, entrusting my younger brother with the role of leader. He is the one destined to lead our house, and I cannot undermine that decision. It would bring dishonor to my family and chaos to our house." Rhaenyra shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "But you are the one I want, the one I need. Surely there must be a way..." You took her hands in yours, holding them tightly. "I would give anything to be with you, Rhaenyra. But our world is built on duty and honor. If I were to go to your father now, it would not only betray my brother but also bring great strife to our families. I cannot do that to you, or to the realm." Her tears began to fall, and you gently wiped them away with your thumb.

"So, what are we to do? Live in secret? Love each other in stolen moments?" You nodded, your heart breaking with the truth of it. "For now, that may be all we can have." She leaned into you, seeking solace in your embrace, and you held her close, wishing that the world were different, that duty did not stand in the way of love. But in that moment, all you could do was hold on to each other, cherishing the time you had, however fleeting it might be.

[yorsgirl]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐬!

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: On the foremost, you should have seen the red flags in yourself. Dropping this charade at the right time was the right decision. Yet, one look at his crimson tinted eyes and you found yourself wearing your rose colored glasses.

Tropes: Taboo relationship, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, possessive themes, explicit smut, praise, light degradation, fingering, fellatio+handjob, semi public, unprotected, rough, hair pulling, nipple play, choking, undertones of - angst, attachment issues, insecurities, mentions of neglect, no curse AU, adultery, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 4.4k

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

A/N: forgive me, I was supposed to complete something else but instead this had me on a chokehold. Nothing can stop me from writing smut with my king. Hope you enjoy <3

Your reflection stared back at you.

Although the skilled work of your makeup artist showed itself on your rather decked up mien, the very chance at being delighted by your appearance eluded you.

Never did you think that you'd tolerate cheating in your marriage. Yet, here you were - celebrating the anniversary with your husband.

A black tie gala and when he exited the penthouse with you, anyone could say he was indeed looking forward to it. The customized blue Armani suit looked gorgeous upon him. Although you made sure to pass a compliment to him on your way out, the same treatment wasn’t returned.

Of course, he wouldn’t.

What else did you expect?

From the looks of it, tonight would and should mark one of the greatest days of both of your lives. However, neither of you had the guts to confront the elephant in the room. So, once again the charade would have to play. The cover pages of Forbes and Financial times would certainly make this night, a talk of the town. He must be busy with preparations of that, obviously he held little concern over your whereabouts. If not, the scandal wouldn't have stretched on this far.

On what basis did you even think that this relationship would anywhere be successful? Of course it wouldn’t when on the fore front it was always meant to end in shambles.

Besides, sparing him a subtle glance only minutes ago had you clear out of all your doubts. Leaving you to realize two facts: 1 - you wouldn't had been surprised if he would have confessed to have simply forgotten about tonight. 2 - the very same husband had been transfixed by a woman which wasn't you.

With the workaholic of a man he was, it wouldn't astound you if he said that he needed to be away to look into urgent matters. It wouldn't astound you one bit if he just needed his PA to accompany him to that urgent matter. As a good, ideal wife, what did you do? Obviously, leave the room. No matter how long did you stretch the lengths of your restraint, certain glances could never be unseen. Even then, the sharp glares bestowed upon you by everyone in the room rendered you breathless. Rumours seldom held the truth. This instance it did. Almost everyone knew about the scandal, considering the affair wasn't so discreet after all. Evidently, all those glares told you that you were being a nuisance there.

You glanced at the girl again; beautiful. Obviously, she was trying to impress someone. And from the looks of it, from the tiny smirk shot her way, she knew she was successful. Honestly, you can't blame her. He was quite the man with the flames burning in his crimson eyes and that charismatic smirk which even had you put on your rose tinted glasses.

With all the reasons screaming at your face to leave the main venue; you did.

Hence, now, standing afore the basin in the women's room - you could finally let yourself be free.

The black dress clung to your body tenaciously and the red diamond pendant resting on the juncture of your collarbones seemingly did little to cure your case. The jewellery was certainly a gift. Currently, you found the giver of the same gift in the same room as you.

You sharply craned your neck to the side, "What are you doing here?"

A languid smirk rested upon the curve of Sukuna's lips as he leaned against the door of the restroom. "I could ask the same, doll. What are you doing here?"

"Should not be your concern," Reverting your attention back to the mirror, you pushed some fringes of hair before your ear. "I can be wherever I want."

On cue he pushed himself from the door, sauntering over to you. In the limited lapse of time, you sure did make out how the door had been locked shut from inside. Sukuna towered over you, one hand of his rested beside yours on the counter; his breath fanned over your neck, instinctively you tightened your grip on the cool tile.

“Sure, you can doll.” He whispered near your ear, lifting his hand to push the same tendril of hair behind your ear. “However, to me it seemed, you were waiting for someone.”

“Certainly,” You affirmed, shooting a pointed look up at him. Although the close proximity, you refrained from letting your eyes wander over his frame clad in the black Zegna suit which fit him almost perfectly. “I was waiting when my husband will notice that I’ve left his side and come looking for me.” He grasped your arm, forcibly turning you around, though the hold was firm – the venomous pressure was nowhere to be found. “But that’s too much to ask from him, now.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “What a bastard of a husband to leave such a pretty thing like you all alone.”

“Sukuna-”

“Still I am here,” The undertone in his voice was too loud to ignore. Besides, did you really want to?

You reached up, straightening his crooked tie like a dutiful wife. “I didn’t call you here.”

“Now, now doll-” A Cheshire grin slipped into his lips, free arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you looked at me there?”

It wasn’t clear cut lie; you did find your eyes wandering over to him even though you knew he would be up to no good. However, it was still funny. Funny how he took notice of it when all he seemed to be captivated by the other woman in the room. Did he think you wouldn’t find out or did he think that getting someone new would only make this charade all the more entertaining?

With the three of you present in the same only minutes ago, filled with family, friends, rivals and acquaintances, only a handful remained oblivious to the ongoing show. Now, with two of you gone, the few PR team members that lurked around the corner would certainly not pass up the opportunity to highlight this in the internet next day. Just how much they loved stirring the drama and how much the netizens loved consuming it.

You looked up at him from underneath your lashes, “Notice?” You scoffed with a bitter smile. “How laughable. The last time I checked you were rather pouring your attention on someone else, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Jealous?” He tipped his head forward, “And what if I was?”

“Nothing,” You let the strain of the situation reign in your two seconds of silence. “Enjoy your night. If you excuse me now-” You pinched your lips. “I have to call a friend to get me home, now.”

Like a chain reaction, it started.

First, Sukuna’s grasp on your waist tightened. The flicker of a vexation much akin to a match starting a forest fire, burnt in his eyes. “And who might this friend be? Someone I should be worried about?”

Second, with a soft graze of your thumb against his jaw, your question commenced. “Jealous?” A halt of five seconds settled down. Yet, you were more than eager to be the catalyst in this chemical reaction. “What if you should?”

Third, he threaded his fingers into your open hair; knotting the digits in your luscious strands. He tersely tugged them back, inciting a groan from you. Leaning down, his lips brushed against your own, “Then I just have to crush some pests for looking at my woman.”

Last, but certainly not the least – his lips locked onto yours.

Though the kiss was sudden, you found yourself fluttering your eyes shut as you delve into this passion only he can bring. You held his shoulder to bring the needed balance, the coarse fabric of his coat contrasted against your smooth palm. Sukuna angled your head to his comfort, nibbling on your bottom lip and once you give him access, he didn’t miss a second before pushing forth his warm tongue in your mouth. The spicy cologne of his mingled with the slight lime scent of the bathroom and with the way he worked on your mouth, your knees were weakening.

On the foremost, you knew you shouldn’t give in, you knew continuing a relationship built on lies would only end in shambles. Yet, when he pulled back – leaving you breathless for the first time tonight (and all the previous other nights), you again gazed into his red-tinted eyes. Ah! How stupid of you? Still, you found yourself putting on your rose coloured glasses.

“Aren’t you being too brave for your own good, doll? What gave you the fucking right to think of someone else when I am right here?” With delicate measures, he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger; sharp contrast to the, not so empty threat bespoken seconds ago. “Still, it wouldn’t stop me from teaching you a lesson, here and now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Here and now?”

“Here and now.” With that, Sukuna’s lips crashed over yours once again.

His mouth ransacked over your own as he glided his hand over to your bottom and on your thighs to lift you up and place you over the countertop.  Now, on a levelled height with his, you didn’t hesitate from indulging more into the fiery exchange by tracing your manicured nails from his nape to his roseate strands. That surely did incite a groan from him and you could feel the smirk curving into your lips.

Despite the heated encounter, you were left pondering upon your thoughts. What was the point of staying in a marriage where the love given wasn’t the love reciprocated? However, with the way his moulded with yours so perfectly, all the guilty feelings just had to fade away.

Both of you parted once again, though Sukuna was a far from letting you take a moment’s rest. He latched onto your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses over your skin. A rather salacious moan erupted from you once he bit into the sensitive part of your skin. “Ah- you can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You are mine.” The guttural growl of his voice near your ear sent a pulse to your core. He tipped your face up to meet his eyes, “Say it, love. Who do you belong to?”

The diabolical possessiveness of his had always been so disastrous... as well desirous. What was it with him that something so wrong just felt so right? Although you knew you shouldn't give in to him, that this shouldn't continue any longer. Needed to tell him that you couldn't bear the neglect anymore, you knew we were way past thee point of return. As if a scripted play, you found yourself acting again. “You. Only you.”

For a second, his frame went rigid. The next, he was pushing your back against the mirror, hoisting up the longer end of your dress till it decked around your hips and pressing his calloused palm over the soft fabric of your panties. Ah. He sure knew what he wanted tonight and he was going to have it.

While his pupil was dilated with desire, he didn’t fail from passing a knowing smirk when he felt the dampened spot on the garment. “With the way you are wet for me, no one would believe anything else.”

Oh god…

You feigned innocence, “Do you want anyone else to know?” That obviously didn’t end well. Without warning, Sukuna peeled off the cloth and pushed two of his digits inside your slick folds. “Nghh- Sukuna-”

“Everyone already knows, love.” He murmured, lips hovering over the shell of your ear. “Everyone knows that you are mine.”

He curved his fingers inside your cunt, velvet walls clamping around him in a tightness which had his cock straining against his briefs. Scissoring his way through, he stretched you out into a V. Even then, he was ruthless, letting his thumb press over your swollen clit as the juices of your arousal flowed out of your folds. The torturous onslaught over your cunt surely was too much to handle; the barbaric, loud sounds of your moans mixed with curses were like music to his ears. “Ah- Ahh Su-Sukuna… f-fuck.”

“Shh, darling,” He hushed you with a chaste kiss on your parted lips. “You don’t want an audience, do you? But if you do-” He pinched on your clit and involuntarily, did you elicit a loud squeal. One enough to have caught the ears of anyone who might be lingering in the corridors. “I am more than ready to make all of your dreams come true.”

“N-No, ahh- no-none of those are- nghh- my dr-dreams.” You managed to stumble out the few words in your lust drunk state, gripping into his biceps to restrain this torment. Although the treacherous smirk rested upon him, you knew that he was more than serious. Knew that if given the chance, he wouldn’t shy away from indulging you into exhibitionism. One act which repelled you so much. Your image was already tarnished enough among the socialists and elites. Another spot at that and you would be crossing the line of no return. No way were you letting that happen. Or so you thought.

Despite the repugnance, one glance at the man before you, one touch of his skin against yours, one praise of his – calling you his good girl, fell on your parched ears, you just might let him. To imagine it was more the arousing as much as it was perilligious. While on the base level, the act itself repelled you so much when the fleshed out play conjured before your eyes, it was rather difficult to deny it. However, that was a thought for another day.

Sukuna reached his free hand over to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down – stretching it, ruining the material beyond repair and that was the least of your concern. All you wanted was him. His hands, his mouth, his touch. All of him. The cool air of the night hit your nipples, making them stand erect as the man indulged in like a predacious beast attaining his meal after days. He squeezed and kneaded your breast, while latching onto the other as he swirled his tongue over your hardened bud.

With all the added stimulation over your body, you were sent over the end. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you bit into your lips to stop the traitorous sounds, “Su-Sukuna… I- I am-”

“Not yet.”

“H-Huh?” You buckled your hips against his fingers, arching your back for he just mercilessly lessened his pace.

“You won’t cum until I say so,” He leaned back up fully to his original height, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone before they drop to your hips. “Do you get it, love?”

You snapped your eyes shut, toe curling up as the protest marked itself on your features, “Su-Sukuna, it-its…”

“Won’t you do it for me, love? Won’t you please me?” It was so damn painful to momentarily halt your climax when all you wanted was to let go. Yet, like clockwork, you nodded. “There’s my good girl,”

Words were funny. How did he just managed to get the flutter out of your chest with a single praise?

Sukuna again increased the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, curving and coiling them up to his wish and just enough to provide you with the needed pleasure. “Not yet,” He murmured, brushing circles over your clit. “Not yet,” He twisted the digits inside, hitting your sweet spot causing you to sink your nails over the hardened tile. He stretched his finger to the maximum, observing how your cunt throbbed while sucking in air and then he grinned. “Now.”

And like the night the string holding your sanity snapped, this wasn’t so different.

You spasmed around his digits, the climax washing over you like a thunderous wave hitting the shore. Eyes squeezed shut and a trail of drool running down your mouth, certainly you were a sight for his sore eyes. He pulled out his fingers from inside you, wiping it clean with the tissues on the rack as you came down from your high. Your bare chest heaved up and down while you inhaled the copious amount of air.

After you did and once your breathing was levelled, you were more than eager to return the return by yourself. So, when you sank down to your knees – Sukuna liked it a lot. Liked it more when you unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring out free and God… he was huge. The sheer girth and length was enough to put you into a moment of stupor. However, you broke out of it, ejected your spit on your hand, pumping his shaft to lubricate the length.

“Fuck- love, that’s hot.”

“Just returning the favour,” Said so, you placed a soft kiss over his tip before delving your mouth on its length. The salty taste of precum fell over your tongue – lapping it up, you swirled your tongue over the glans penis. Keeping your eyes on him, you forced more of his length into your mouth. Christ. The sheer girth of it stretched your mouth in a painful way yet that wasn’t your concern. For you were too much preoccupied with the throaty moans of Sukuna.

“Shit- you’re so good, lo- ahh- fuc-fuck, just like that.” He wrapped his fingers around the loose ends of your hair, pulling them in a ponytail as he guided you on his length.

His satisfaction rang in your ears and it pushed you further to make this experience hell of a memorable one. After all, when will be the next time this would happen? Or will it happen again? The overthinking was pushed out of your brain when you gagged on his cock – eyes fluttering shut as a tear prickled your eye. Recoiling soon after, you started to bob your head in the same rhythmic manner which he liked while you pumped the rest of his member. The way he grunts out your name again causes your cunt to throb with anticipation. Oh, how much you just wanted him to fill you up to the brim.

Trails of drool run down your lips to your chin and you pull your mouth back from his cock. A string of spit connected your glistening mouth to the tip and just from the sight of it, Sukuna could have climaxed then and there. “Ah- Fuck, doll… you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, not bothering to respond to that. Drunk on insatiable lust must have the courage take over. Cause the next thing you did was, pump your fist over his drool-coated cock with such a rhythm that had him throwing back his back. “Shoot your cum in my mouth.”

Despite the burning ache in his abdomen added to the stimulation and the sight of you on your knees, he still managed to keep up his cocky attitude. “Feeling bold today, are we? I wonder why…”

“Sukuna-” The warning this time was cleared out in your voice. “You know I can just leave you here and you will have to take care of this by yourself. Want that?”

“No.”

How easy was that? You smirked, darting out your tongue as you licked over the tip and took him in your mouth again. Sucking and lapping at his cock, the wanton grunts of his certainly contended you. You eagerly indulge him, coaxing him into the needful climax. His cock twitched inside your mouth. You knew, he was close. He knew, he was close.

Only a second later, he was shooting his cum inside your mouth.

You knew better than to let the aftertaste rest on your tongue. So when the copious amount of liquids started to pour in your throat, you were quick to gulp it down like a good girl. Once done, with the treatment, you let out his flaccid cock with a pop. A short trail of his ecstasy ran down your lips and Sukuna reached down to wipe extra liquid off your mouth.

“Fuck it, love.” He quivered out almost breathless. “How do you manage to be so beautiful always?”

You shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know, you tell me. A lot many people don’t think so.”

On instance, he grasped your arm, pulling you up from the floor. Holding you via the hips, he didn’t waste a second before locking his lips with yours again. However, unlike the first two times, this time, it was a lot softer. A tender gesture shutting you up from all the self-depreciating words, you must have been telling yourself.

Parting a hair’s breadth away, he muttered, “You should know by now that I am not most people.”

You snickered with a sour smile, “I know.”

With that, this time it was you initiating the kiss. You pulled him closer, holding his collar, it felt almost humorous how he still had his clothes on while yours were sliding off your body. The last thing you wanted were words o affirmations about the situation. It’s a distraction. You told yourself. All of it to keep your mind off the true matter at hand; Veiling the truths of a neglectful husband who was repulsed by his wife. You didn’t keep the previous tender tempo, instead engaging in a lascivious dance with his tongue, beckoning back the lustful desire that garnered the both of you.

Of course, it worked.

Of course, the roughness of his actions returned.

Of course, he was feasting upon your mouth as he stepped up and your buttocks hit the counter again.

Only a second later, Sukuna was flipping you on your back – assisting you into his favourite position. Both of you stared back at the reflection of the erotogenic position with your ass lined up with his crotch. Both of you shared the same mind – you nodded and he followed up with shoving his cock in your needy folds. He hit you till the brim, fleshy walls clamping around his member tenaciously, coaxing him to build up another climax.

“Doll, ahh- fuck! You just keep g-getting better- nghh- everytime, ahh-” He groaned from above you, his pelvix smacking against your ass as he continued to fill you up and pull out, just till the tip and inside again. “Fuc-Fuck! Did no one fu-fuck you this time round?”

“N-No.”

“Good,” He struck a rough hand over your ass cheek. “This cunt’s fucking mine.”

He increased the pace of his thrusts, giving you just enough. Just how much you wanted. Needed. And only this experience would ever count. His cock hit till your cervix and you arched your back, tears running down your cheeks. You muffled your whiny screams by pressing your face down on the cool tile. Obviously, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The next second, he was pulling your head up gripping onto your hair strands as he jerked you face to meet the mirror. Your makeup was barely intact with the eyeliner smudged and the lipstick smeared over.

“Sh-Shit, Sukuna… ahh- to-too fast! Nghh-“

“Keep your eyes on me as I fuck you like a good little slut,” Tugging both of your hands back, he used them as a leverage to keep you up.

Now, with your cheek pressed against the mirror, you were forced to witness this unmaking. To keep his words, you did keep your eyes on him – meeting the burning lust filled irises. The diamond neck around your neck swayed in the air as he kept on shoving in-and-out of you.

“Damn it, I knew this would look good on you.” He traced his fingers over the jewel before his hand clamped around your neck – restricting the air supply. He was ruthless in this session tonight and it showed. Was it due to the fact that you were wearing the jewellery he bought you that sparked the need to claim you as his once again? Or was it because you had been bolder in your statements than usual?  

Your lips parted as you tried to take in as much air as he would allow. Pulling you back, Sukuna let your back rest against his hard chest, still drilling into your hole. While you were on the brink of letting go with the pleasure, pushing you over the edge, he was mindful to keep his eyes trained on you. You. Not the reflection. The real you. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he deepened his thrusts. He watched how your eyes rolled back as he worked you into your second orgasm for the night. He watched how you gripped onto his elbow for support when you milked him dry.

An amalgam of emotions passed through his eyes while you were fixed on the daze of your after your climax. All of it flickering to none when he saw you gaining sense. And after a few thrusts, he finished himself inside you.

The next few minutes were a passage of silence. A silence which if used properly would clear up so much things between the two of you. Yet, with the room reeking of recent sex and the sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, both of you knew this confrontation wouldn’t happen soon enough.

“What now?” You questioned, choosing to be the mature one amongst the two.

“What now?” You hummed in affirmation and Sukuna found himself, trying to conjure up the proper response for this situation.

Whoever it was, that said – more than the event, the aftermath mattered – were certainly wise. For you and Sukuna, the aftermath would never be fruitful. An unspoken fact both of you could agree upon. Yet, was it just too wrong to let this charade continue for a little long?

“What do you suggest?” He gazed down on you, a softer tone coating his words as he pushed off the matted hairs from your face. “What do you want to do?”

“Mhm, well-” You slightly rotated your neck towards him. “Its my anniversary, after all. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” He helped you get down from the counter, fixing the neckline of the dress to cover your skin as much as it would offer. “What say, want to get out of here?”

With a know-it-all smile and the thrill of peril daunting over, you answered him.

Meeting his lips for only a second. “Yes.”

___

CBN @/cybernetizens ◦ 3h ago

Wife of Satoru Gojo, have been spotted to leave company’s thirtieth anniversary with business rival Sukuna Ryomen in a scandalous outfit.

9.2k likes | 5.8k comments | 4.5k retweets

-

Buzz @/buzzfeed ◦ 5h ago

New image of Mrs. Gojo with Sukuna Ryomen in indecent outfit and appearance leaves netizens shocked!

2.2k likes | 1.7k comments | 0.6k retweets

-

GJNewz @/generaljapannewz ◦ 10h ago

Elitist and wife of Satoru Gojo spotted to have entered Hotel de Elysium with Sukuna Ryomen. Is this a public statement to announce divorce against husband?

5.6k likes | 2.1k comments | 1.3k retweets

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: we vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Jazlene comes to with a wispy sigh. You back up and stand as her mother helps her to her feet. The king is back at the table, unbothered by the overcome maiden. Lord Dustan hovers between, torn by loyalty to his liege and his family. New liege, that is. Only yesterday, he was toasting to good King Waleran. 

“My apologies, your highness,” Jazlene fans herself with her hand, “I was only surprised. I didn’t... How could I expect this? To marry a king?” She reaches down to grip her mother’s arm, shakily stepping forward towards the king who doesn’t even glance up from the table of maps, “I promise to you, your highness, I will be a good wife to you.” 

The king tilts his head, tracing a finger along a ridge of mountains, then leans in to examine the riverbeds below. Jazlene looks at her mother, an expression of concern on her pretty features. She is rarely ignored, if at all. She will make sure that she isn’t. 

“Lord Dustan, I expect the dowry will be served along with your men and my kingdom,” the king declares, “but now, I find myself fatigued. A hard day’s ride sees me in need of bath and a bed.” 

Dustan bows his head, “and so you will have it, your highness. I will send down for water--” 

“Have the maid see to it,” the king waves his hand vaguely in your direction, “certainly a servant is a servant.” 

“Yes, your highness, how wise,” Dustan simpers, as he often does to men with titles above his own. “You,” the duke turns and snaps his fingers, “you heard the king. He requires hot water in his chamber.” 

You keep your head down, “yes, my lord.” 

You spin without hesitation. You’re all too happy to be free of the noble intrigue. It is rather easier to be unseen and unthought of. It has ever kept you from envying these ladies and their silks and these lords and their golden signets. 

Your flight is fleet. You rush down the corridor and to the wide stairwell. You descend with your mission and pass Merinda as she paces listlessly outside the kitchens. She stops you with an arm across your path. 

“There are whispers,” she says lowly, “of who visits. Is it true?” 

You look at her. You don’t know if you should say. It isn’t her place and you don’t know what they say. There is rather much gossip in castles. 

“It is,” she hisses, “you don’t need to say it. You are a poor liar and when you say nothing, I know that is the reason.” 

Your lips pinch and you give her a look, “I have been sent to draw a bath.” 

“Oh, is the lady in need of her evening boil?” Merinda snickers. 

“Not her.” 

Merinda quiets and tilts her head, “...him?” 

“The king,” you answer thinly. 

She nods and steps closer, “is he... I don’t understand. His soldiers, they mill about with our own, they cavort together. Not as enemies. Are they not invading? Do they not mean to take the castle?” 

You tear your eyes away. She’s right, you are a poor liar. You lean in, lips right by her ear, you whisper, “Lord Dustan has new allegiances.” 

She claps her hand over her mouth as you back up. She stares at you with wide eyes. She slowly drops her arm and her lip quivers, “he means to get us all killed.” 

You push your shoulders up, “think only of today. It’s all we can do. Oh, do you know where the king’s chambers would be?” 

“Mm, they took his saddlebags to the ivory room. I think there,” she answers, “do you require assistance?” 

“Stay here,” you gird, “he is a brusque man.” 

That only seems to worry her more as her face twists. You can’t help but feel the same inside but you do your best not to let it show. You leave her and carry on to your task. 

You put the kitchen hands to boiling water and send a few others to find a tub to bring to the king’s chambers. You help where you can and take the first bucket up. You pour it into the large tub in the ivory room and return for second, a third, a forth, and fifth. There will be many more even as your arms ache and your nap slickens with sweat. 

Upon the eight, when the tub looks near halfway, the chamber is not empty. You’re surprised by the king’s presence as the door remains ajar. You pour the water with a low apology and diligent ‘your highness.’ He doesn’t respond. 

There is much to go still. Back down, up again, hot water splashing on your sleeves, singing beneath, dumping it over the edge as you keep your eyes on your work. Do not be more than a piece of furniture. You are only air. 

At the last bucket, you pour slowly, careful not to slosh over the edges. As you right the empty pail, you hear a metal chink. The king growls into a long exhale. You turn towards the door. 

“Close it,” he commands, “you will remain.” 

You’re happy he cannot see the look on your face. You obey and close the door. You turn back, standing by the pillar of the door frame, as you often do, and begin your vigil. It should not be unexpected that he may require you to fetch something further for him. 

Your eyes catch the bottom of his mail as he lifts it over his head. No, don’t look. He undresses, leather creaking, fabric rustling, pacing as he strips away each piece. You grip the rope handle of the bucket. He circles the long tub and nears you. You cower, bracing. You are not noticed, you are not approached, unless it is for rebuke. 

He grabs the bucket by the brim and tugs. You let it go. He turns and sets it on the floor away from you. You push your hands together, stilling a tremble. He wears only his breeches and you catch a glimpse of the thatch of hair along his thick stomach. You gulp and twine your fingers through each other. 

He turns away and crosses the room. You listen to the fabric fall from around his hips. Your eyes bore into the floorboards. The water shifts as he climbs into the tub and you listen to him groan as he lowers himself into the depths. The steam mingles with the tension of his silence. 

He sighs and stirs the water. The lull persists as you wait. He will need wine or food.  

“Come,” he bids and your eyes flick up. The tub conceals much of his lower body as his thick shoulders and arms stretch around the brim. “I have a knot.” 

You approach hesitantly, unsure where to aim your eyes the closer you get. He gestures around his head, “stand behind me.” 

You do as he tells you. 

He sits up slightly and bends his head forward, lifting his white hair out of the way, “here.” 

He points along the muscle beside his neck. It’s thick, just like all of him. You’ve never seen a man built like that. There are stringy barn boys and tubby cooks.  

You stare and raise a hand, hovering it over his muscle. Are you supposed to touch him? He is a king and you are a servant. You are a servant sold out of pig shit into servitude. 

His large hand reaches for yours and he guides it down. You shake before he lets you go. You feel the muscle, almost curious, and rub lightly. He makes a noise but you’re unsure of its tenor. 

“Harder,” he demands, “squeeze,” he shows his hand, making a kneading motion, “you cannot hurt me.” You do as he says. You squeeze and he rests his hand against the tub, “harder,” he repeats. 

You obey. 

His head hangs as his long strands touch the water. You bring your other hand up as your efforts make your tendons sore. He lets out shallow breaths and hissing groans. Your chest thumps at the sounds that rise from him. 

“Your master has broken his oath and sworn a new one to me. And you, does that make me your master as well? If I am your master’s master?” He asks slyly. 

You focus on your hands, “your highness?” 

“Answer, don’t be afraid. Liars bore me.” 

You sniff and mull your reply. You don’t know. You don’t have much of a choice in the matter. 

“Lord Dustan is my master. I am bound to serve him.” 

He snorts and lifts his head. You rescind your touch but he reaches back to latch onto your again. He tugs you forward, placing your hand back on his shoulder. 

“Softer now,” he instructs. You rub his damp flesh as he bends a leg, his knee poking above the water. “You, a servant, so low, and you are more loyal than any man with a title.” 

“Your highness, I must serve.” 

“As he must. Did he not swear himself to the old king? Eh? War does muddy the waters,” he muses, “coin does test old ties.” 

You say nothing. Your comment isn’t warranted or wanted. You know better. Jazlene taught you only to answer when asked. 

“Very well,” he taps your fingers, “I feel better. You have a kind touch.” 

You back away and wipe your hands on your apron. He hangs his head back and puffs. He closes his eyes. You watch the white waves made wilder by the humidity of the bath. 

“I hate sleeping in strange places,” he says, “you will stay for the eve.” 

You tuck your chin down and fold your hands together. Your scalp sweats beneath your cap, your shorn locks itchy with the heat. You wet your lips and force out the air trapped in your chest, “yes, your highness. As my master bid, I will serve you.” 

He says nothing more as he leans back against the tub completely. His large arms frame the metal and his hands wrap around the edges. He closes his shining eyes in recline, the water still and steaming. He stays that way until the damp heat dissipates. You stand locked in his thrall. 

He sits forward suddenly, the water stirring with his movement. He turns his hand and beckons with his thick fingers. 

“A bath sheet,” he demands. 

You go to the chest in the corner and open it. You retrieve a folded swath of fabric and bring it to him. He stands as you unfold the length of linen to obscure his form. Your eyes are on the ceiling as the water slakes from his figure and he looms large above you. 

He steps out, close to you, and puts his hands over yours. He pulls the sheet around his body, your arms too. He releases you only as he adjusts the fabric around his waist and you retract with humiliation nipping in your cheeks. You lean back on your heel as you shrink in his shadow. 

“Your highness, do you require refreshment? Wine? Sweetmeats?” 

“I did not ask for it,” he says, “I am tired.” 

“Apologies, your highness.” 

“Do not apologise for doing your duty. Would be a fairer world if more were so diligent.” 

He turns and strides away. There’s a knapsack and bedroll against the wall. He keeps one hand on the sheet and unbuckles the flap, reaching within and tugging out a bed shirt. He drops the sheet away and your eyes flit away from his nakedness. He has no shame but you are merely a servant. He shouldn’t care for your witness. 

He swipes the fabric over his head and it falls just to his thighs, concealing just enough to have him decent. His thick legs are trimmed in dark hair and the muscles are taut beneath his skin. He faces the bed and pulls back the quilt and linen. He pauses and looks up at you. 

“Will you sleep afoot then?” He wonders. 

“Your highness?” You wince. “I must...” you peer around, “empty the bath.” 

“Must you? Stagnant water can wait,” he insists. “Come.” 

You waver, skirts rippling around your legs. You step forward and stagger. 

“The lantern, your highness?” You inquire. 

“Douse the light if you will,” he allows. “And come.” 

You do as he bids and snuff out the flame. Your vision is left blackened and formless. You reach out blindly, realising your error too late. You can’t see much as you walk warily towards the bed. The heavy curtains are shut and block out the sliver of moonlight. 

Your knees hit the bed and you gasp. You catch yourself before you can fall forward, leaning against the mattress. You’re stuck like that, uncertain if you should go forward or back. Something wraps around your wrist, a stolid heat. 

“I often sleep with my horse,” the king says as he draws you onto the bed. “I need a warm body close.” 

You go rigid as you let him command your body. He guides you to lay down and tugs the bedclothes over you. The damp specks on your dress and apron cling to your skin. He leads your head over his thick arm as he lays on his back neck to you. You stare into the endless void of the canopy. 

“The horse smells much worse and snores,” he muses, his arm curling around your shoulders, offering a more comfortable rest for your head and neck. You quiver at being so close. It is an odd request but you daren’t decline it. “Be still,” his other hand comes to touch your sleeve, “and sleep. I only mean to ease my own unrest.” 

You close your eyes and exhale. Your heart is pounding and your body is tingling. You don’t think you can sleep with the surge flowing through you. He sighs and shifts slightly. You lay there, in silence, only the noise of his breath and yours to fill the castle walls. 

“I am awake,” he says. “Speak to me, maid. Tell me, where do you lay your head on nights where a king does not trouble you?” 

You wiggle slightly. Your spine is uncomfortable at the flatness but not worse than your usual fare. You bring your hand over your chest and fist your fingers tight. 

“On a bag of hay with Merinda,” you utter smally, pushing your legs together as you arch your back slightly. Your hips are tight. 

You’re startled as the bed jostles and he grips your hip. He rolls you onto your side, his touch lingers as he pulls you against him. He is as hot as a hearth. 

“Merinda?” He repeats. 

“Another handmaid, your highness.” 

He hums and drags his hand away from your hip. He blows out a great heavy and grunts. His arm curls around you snugly. 

“I hope I am preferable to that bag of hay,” he mutters and the tension seeps away from his form. “Though perhaps just as prickly.” 

[googleitlol]

Sooooooooo @rovobeam and I have been cooking up this lmk au we've been calling the False Hero AU. It spawned from the question of what would have happened if Macaque never died during his fight with Wukong. What if he had won and sealed Wukong away under his own mountain?

The answer: Wukong never gets to be happy :D

There's a few things we've talked about, ocs we have for the au, and so I thought I'd share a lil smth I wrote.

Rain soaked the ground and the crackles of thunder accompanied lightning that briefly illuminated the gorgeous mountainside. Without the storm’s vicious light, it’s beauty was cast in the shadow of night. It mattered not, even in the darkness, the ochre-furred simian knew where to go.

Sun Wukong breathed heavily as he marched up the trail to his home. He pulled at wisteria and moss that had buried itself into his head and stubbornly refused to unroot itself. Some of his own hair came out in the process, but he could care less at the moment. He could only remember one other time he had felt this restless concoction of energy and exhaustion.

He’d nearly given up hope that he would ever get out from under that painful burden. He’d gotten so used to the weight of his own mountain that when it suddenly lifted, he could hardly believe it. He had to destroy part of the mountain to free himself, sure, but the structure of the prison built into his own home didn’t concern him when it came to his freedom. Now, all he cared about was making it past the waterfall, seeing his people again– gods, how he missed the comforts of his home. The warmth of a fire, someplace to stay dry and out of the elements that clung to his hair and dripped to the muddy ground, the softness of a blanket that could comfort much more than the stone that encased his body, he had almost forgotten what they felt like. Once he was back in the security of his home beyond the waterfall, he could regain his strength and take care of the one who locked him away in the first place.

That traitor deserved more than what he did to his eye. The thought that Macaque would put him in the same prison the celestial realm did– he can feel his anger seething under his skin over the notion. It was lucky that his old friend-turned-enemy slipped up, why else would he be free now? Nevertheless, he’d finish what he started.

The world needs to know the Monkey King was back.

Wukong huffs slightly as he hikes up Flower Fruit Mountain, his tunnel vision fading as he noticed a small monkey further up the path. The sight of another made his face light up, how long had it been since he’d seen one of his subjects? Not an unseen bird mocking him with its song, nor a centipede crawling over his face– it was one of his own.

There’s more pep in his stride as he approaches the young monkey. He didn’t recognize her as one of his older monkeys he’d saved from mortality, but perhaps she was a young descendant. “Hey there, bud. It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of you…”

The young monkey jumped once she saw him, and before he could get any closer, she was running up the closest tree to hide amongst the leaves. “…guys?” Wukong frowned, put off by her reaction. He wasn’t used to having his people run from him, but then again, he hadn’t recognized her. Maybe she didn’t recognize her king, it has been many years after all.

Unfortunately, the king’s confusion only grew the more of his subjects he came across. The further he pushed up the mountain, the more it happened. He had no clue what was wrong. Sure, he smells right now, he hadn’t had the opportunity to take a proper bath in forever! He can’t stink that bad, right? Actually, it felt better to believe it was his hygiene, why else would they all be avoiding him like this. Unless another demon king had decided to claim his land, or hunters were terrorizing his monkeys again, wouldn’t they all be overjoyed to see their king after so long?

When Wukong finally made it to Water-Curtain Cave, he expected to find it not all that different than when he’d left it, but that would be wishful thinking. Instead, what he found shook the sage to his core. If his immortalities didn’t keep his heart from giving out, it certainly would have as he studied the murals that defaced his home. They show himself and his friends– twisted versions of their adventures and events that hadn’t been there before when he last visited the cave.

His heart sunk as he stumbled further into the cave, leaving behind a trail of the water that had soaked him to the bone. The murals continued on the walls, his friends disappearing one by one until he became all that was left– they never finished the pilgrimage without him, they failed. He failed them.

Hot tears pricked his eyes, grief threatening to swallow Wukong whole. Not one of them made it. His brothers, his master… they were all gone. He couldn’t protect them. All that stood, with their blood on his hands, was a reflection of himself.

It made no sense! How could this have happened?! He’d been sealed away, why would he be in these murals with them? They couldn’t be real, it was all lies! What made them worse was how he was depicted in each one, each interpretation of him more demonic than the last. Some even showed himself in his monstrous three-headed form, destroying settlements and uprooting villages. Several questions drowned one another out in his mind, but one stayed afloat among the raging storm of confusion and heartache. What happened?!

Wukong pushed further into the cave, determined to find a semblance of an answer. Instead, he was only confronted with more questions by the house he finds where his stone palace once resided. The rain from the storm came down through the large opening above and tapped against the roof of the strange home. It looked nothing like the smaller houses of commoners who gathered in those human villages, but it wasn’t as large or elaborate as the palaces and grand estates of the wealthy he’d seen during his journey. Who the hell could have made this? Who could have settled here while he was gone?! The entrance was still protected, allowing only his monkeys and their king passage into his home.

Now with the possibility of another being inside, the sage approached the home with caution. He walked past the large stone that held bittersweet memories of himself and the person he thought he could trust, and entered the house without any trouble.

Inside the home was even more confusing than its exterior. Its decor appeared foreign to Sun Wukong, his years under his rocky home doing no favours in regards of understanding this new era of life. He had no clue what the reflective black screen on the wall to his left was, nor why so many cushioned seats and chairs were turned towards it. The small paintings behind glass that sat on the walls and various furniture in the halls were remarkably detailed, he’d never seen anything like them! It was as though the painter had trapped the very souls of their subjects on paper. The one room that he had any hint of recognition for was what looked to be a possible dojo. A rack of weapons lined one of its walls, strange mats laid on its centre with dummies sitting by another wall.

What took Wukong’s attention the most were the strangers in those paintings. He took note of a young man wearing a bandana, a woman with green in her hair often accompanying him. Some of the paintings portray them in what appears to be a kitchen with a chef that bore a painful resemblance to Zhu Bajie. In one picture, he saw the chef shouting at another that looked strikingly similar to his master. Another painting put these people on the seaside with another familiar face, one that looked too much like Wukong’s youngest brother, Sha Wujing.

The kid in the bandana appeared to be in most of the paintings Wukong saw, some showed him with another young man with white hair and purple eyes in what looked to be a strange indoor market. There were other paintings with a short curly haired woman wearing a brown jacket. With them was a young boy that bears resemblance to her, though he wore a shirt that matched the man with the bandana. They both wear a symbol on their shirt of a monkey with a wide smile, a scar adorning its right eye.

The longer he observed each of the paintings, the more his confusion and anger grew. Of all the people on those walls, only one made it clear who this house belonged to. The white-furred simian that locked him away appeared in a handful of the paintings, smiling and apparently playful with many of the strangers depicted with him. Seeing him laugh with these people made Wukong’s stomach twist painfully. Everything he saw, it all felt wrong, none of this was right!

“Welcome home, Bud.”

Wukong’s head snapped to the voice, down the end of the hallway he stood in. Making his way down the rest of the hallway led him to its owner, his jailor. In the middle of a gathering area, in a cushioned chair he sat on like a throne with his staff leaning against it, Macaque faced him with a lazy smirk. His elbow propped himself up against the chair’s armrest, his head resting in his hand with one leg crossed over the other. He no longer kept his fur dark, but his extra ears remained hidden. Despite that, the warrior didn’t bother hiding what Wukong had done to his eye. “You gave my subjects quite the scare with the mess you made when you broke out.”

“Your subjects?!” The sage hissed, barely able to hold back his anger. The sheer gall, did he have a death wish?! Those were his people!

Macaque didn’t seem all that phased by his hostility, and uncrossed his leg to stand, picking up his staff as he did. “Of course. This is my mountain, after all.”

“Like hell it is!” Wukong growled, his fist clenching as Macaque moved to circle him slowly.

“Look around for yourself.” He hummed, gesturing to the home he built over what once belonged to Wukong. He narrowed his eyes at the sage’s circlet as he spoke, a grin showing his canines. “You may be wearing your… crown… but Flower Fruit Mountain has been doing quite well for itself with its new Monkey King.”

That sent him over the edge. Red clouding over his vision, Wukong lunged at the demon he once shared his home with. Macaque was ready for the attack, blocking the sage’s fist with his staff. “Hohoho! A couple hundred years under another mountain didn’t calm you down at all, did it?” He laughed, pushing his attacker back before charging after him to strike.

The two sent each other flying with every collision, their strikes so swift no human eye would be able to process them. Between transformations of hawks and snakes, claws and jaws, they sent each other flying through walls and grappling on the ground before taking off into the sky through the opening above the cave.

Amidst the rainfall and strikes of lightning, Macaque pinned Sun Wukong against the muddy ground with his staff, the simian hissing a whisper through gritted teeth. “You should have stayed buried under the mountain.”

Wukong glared at the warrior, shouting out in a rage before kicking him off and jumping back to his feet. They continued to clash, their clones colliding with one another and vanishing before Wukong was able to throw Macaque to the ground. The light-furred simian looked up to see his other half hurtling down towards him and tried falling into a shadow-portal, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Sun Wukong grabbed him just before he could get away, lifting him into the air by his throat. His nails dug into his skin, allowing no room for breath. “To think I thought of sparing you then.” He snarled, his teeth fully bared and his glare burning hotter than the sun itself. “I should take your other eye–!”

Macaque’s eyes widened as Wukong raised his fist, but before he could land the hit, something cold and metallic swung into the sage’s side. He dropped the simian in surprise, the blow sending him flying. Wukong hit the ground with a thud, his ribs cried out in pain as he laid there, stunned. He let out a shout in pain once he managed to sit up, and when he managed to see whoever had come to Macaque’s aid, he froze.

“Are you okay, Monkey King?” It was the young man from the paintings, the one with the bandana. Wukong’s eyes went wide as he heard him, the kid reaching down to help the traitor up. A pit opened up in his stomach hearing someone call him that, it wasn’t Macaque's name– it was his!

The pit in his stomach grew wider as he saw that the kid wielded a staff– not just any, but his own. There were spikes encircling the ends now like Macaque’s own staff, but Wukong could recognize his own weapon. He’d wielded it in more battles he could count– it was unmistakably his own! How did this kid have the power to lift it? Who was he?!

Macaque coughed as the boy helped him rise to his feet, and he reached up to massage his throat before giving him a warm smile. “I’m alright, kid.” He reassured him before looking back to Wukong, the warmth his eyes held for the young man vanishing the second Wukong fell under his gaze.

The kid followed his line of sight before stepping forward. He shot Wukong an angered glare before readying his own staff against him. “Stay back!”

Wukong could hardly believe the sight before him. “What? No, no– this isn’t what it looks like, I’m not the bad guy here!”

“I know exactly who you are, Corrupt Sage.” He hissed, the name sending a pang through Wukong’s chest, his heart shattering. Gods, this was all wrong!

From behind the kid, he could see Macaque watching, the smug bastard stared him down with a grin. Thunder crackled through the sky as Wukong glared at his once sworn brother, his fist clenched so hard, his nails threatened to break skin. Outrage boiled in his veins, but there was nothing he could do with it. Even with his adrenaline racing, he felt beyond tired. Even if he could finish Macaque off in his current state, his little friend would get in the way and Wukong had no clue how powerful the kid really was. If he could lift his staff, he must be strong enough to pose a challenge.

Taking on the both of them could result in Wukong getting sealed away again, and he couldn’t depend on whatever dumb luck he had to free him from his rocky prison a second time. With a frustrated shout, the sage turned on his heel and leapt into the sky.

Everything had all become so wrong. Macaque had his story so twisted and mangled– is this how the world saw him? Those murals, the hate in that man’s eyes, even the fear on the faces of his monkey subjects! It made his skin crawl. How could the world forget who he really was? He had to fix this. Wukong refused to live in a world where nobody knew who Macaque really was, who he really was!

That monster took everything. His home, his people, his legacy– but Wukong was going to get it back.

[sailoryooons]

T R I C K O R T R E A T

presented by BTS Fantasy and Fangs

Celebrate this Hallows' Eve with legends told by our most esteemed ghouls. Enter worlds of the unknown and lose yourself in these tales. But beware: one might lose themselves in these hallowed stories.

Rating: Works range from SFW and NSFW. Each work will have its own set of warnings.

Note: This collaboration features works written as general works and works that were assigned via a Secret-Santa style within the BTS Fantasy & Fangs server in which writers did not know who was gifting them a work!

LEGENDS COMING THROUGHOUT OCTOBER.

T R I C K S

☾ Title: Devil Town

☾ Pairing: Platonic OT7 x reader

☾ Summary: You take a chance and spend a month in Devil Town: a quaint little place nestled deep in the woods of The Unknown, where the air is always a touch chilly, things are never quite what they seem, and no one will tell you anything.

☾ Genre/AU: Autumn?? A lil spooky, a lil whimsy, a lil mystery; not quite angst, not quite fluff

☾ Rating: PG 

as told by @park-jimin-isnt-real

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☾ Title: Handmaidens

☾ Pairing: OT7 x reader

☾ Summary: When the murder of handmaidens begin in Joseon, you are assigned to serve the throne – the seven imperial princes, sons of Lord Sihyuk. Despite your loyalty, your suspicions begin to rise about the killings. Can you escape the palace before it’s too late? 

☾ Genre/AU: Joseon Era thriller/slasher

☾ Rating: TBD

as told by @eserethriddle

☾ Title: Have Mercy 

☾ Paring: Demon!Jimin x Reader | Alpha!Yoongi x Reader | Demon!Jimin x Alpha!Yoongi 

☾ Summary: As a crossroads demon, Jimin is no stranger to vile creatures. Summoned once more, Jimin is surprised to find one of the purest souls asking for his help. Not only does he accept her deal, but while watching over her, Jimin finds himself falling for the very soul he is meant to devour. Eager to confess, Jimin summons the sweet soul only for his plan to turn sour when someone far more evil finds her alone. 

☾ Genre/AU: Angst | Smut | Strangers to Lovers | Demon AU | A/B/O AU 

☾ Rating: 21+ | Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

as told by @sweetestofchaos

Title: The One who Saved Us All

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Summary: It's the annual Halloween celebration in Seoul, where everyone from different walks of life get together and celebrate the history of the Vidyadhara. But when someone decides to cause some trouble, Seokjin's best-kept secret comes to life.

Genre/AU: Halloween, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Disaster?

Rating: Maybe M to MA 15+

as told by @quirkybtsarmy

☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be

☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader

☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut

☾ Rating: m (18+)

☾ Summary: You aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man.

You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are.

But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want.

as told by @caelesjjk

Read Now

T R E A T S

☾ Title: Blessed With A Curse

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader

☾ Summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them. OR When a coworker gets rejected at the company Halloween party, things get crazy.

☾ Genre/AU: Smut, Werewolf AU, Hybrid AU, Modern Magic AU

☾ Rating: NC-17

as told by @sweetestofchaos for @jessikahathaway

Read Now

☾ Title: Bump In The Night

☾ Pairing: Bogeyman!Yoongi x f. reader

☾ Summary: The dark can be scary; full of strange, unseen things. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on your fear, the lights go out, and you face the reality that you were always right—you should fear the dark and especially what’s waiting in it.

☾ Genre/AU: Monster Under The Bed, Horror/Thriller, Angst, Smut

☾ Rating: MA

as told by @colormepurplex2 for @minisugakoobies

Read Now

☾ Title: Carmen

☾ Pairing: Vampire!Jimin x human!Taehyung

☾ Summary: Taehyung gets lured to an exclusive club by a strange, enchanting woman. What finds him there is much more intoxicating and dangerous. 

☾ Genre/AU: Supernatural, Vampires, Smut

☾ Rating: Explicit/Mature

as told by @sailoryooons for @gimmethatagustd

Read Now

☾ Title: Fledgling

☾ Pairing: Jungkook x Namjoon

☾ Summary: Jungkook is tired of his dreary existence. So when a mysterious stranger offers him a way out of life as he knows it, he takes it without hesitation.

☾ Genre/AU: Vampire AU, horror, smut

☾ Rating: 21+ | Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

as told by @theharrowing for @sweetestofchaos

Read Now

☾ Title: Love As Soft As a Distant Star

☾ Pairing: Min Yoongi | Reader, Min Yoongi | Park Jimin

☾ Summary: You didn’t mean to fall in love with your husband and fellow Witches’ Councilmember Yoongi, but here you are: in love. (How gauche and not the thing. You’re co-workers, not lovers.) It’s particularly inconvenient since he is in love with someone else. 

☾ Genre/AU: Witch AU, arranged marriage AU

☾ Rating: Explicit/Mature

as told by @vyduan for @colormepurplex2

Read Now

☾ Title: Lose Your Head

☾ Pairing: Park Jimin x F!Reader

☾ Summary: As a constable’s assistant you have several duties to him and the police force. Not only as his assistant, but as his dear friend. However, when an ominous summoning sends you and Jimin both to the town of Sleepy Hollow, you fear there might be more at play than either of you understand. And feelings that you’d hope to bury for life bubble to the surface...

☾ Genre/AU: Movie!AU, Thriller, SleepyHollow!AU, Smut, Romance. Rating: 21+

as told by @jessikahathaway for @/sailoryooons

Read Now

☾ Title: The Love Witch

☾ Pairing: witch!yoongi x demon!taehyung

☾ Summary: Despite being a popular romance blogger, Yoongi isn’t interested in finding love. He only summons a demon boyfriend to prove to his followers that it’s possible. He’ll send Taehyung right back to Hell once he’s done with him, obviously.

☾ Genre/AU: fantasy, strangers to lovers, fake dating (kinda), light angst, smut, fluff, humor

☾ Rating: 18+

as told by @gimmethatagustd for @theharrowing

Read Now

☾ Title: Passage

☾ Pairing: Captain!Yoongi x Dracula!Jimin

☾ Summary: For several years, Min Yoongi and the crew of the Magpie have sailed the perilous waters of the Pacific, surviving treacherous waves and other deadly threats in order to deliver goods to the West. Now, on his final voyage as captain, Yoongi is about to face a danger like none he’s ever seen before - and he may find it too tempting to resist. 

☾ Genre/AU: horror, supernatural, angst, smut, Dracula!AU

☾ Rating: M(18+)

as told by @minisugakoobies for @vyduan

Read Now

Disclaimer: This is a collaboration put on for members of the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Server. These stories, characters, and festivals used here are not meant to represent any real or factual people, places, or things.

[yoonkinii]

Echos of Desire

Pairing(s): Choso Kamo x Reader

FantasyAU!, Guardian!Choso, Royalty!Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: Choso is one of the few to possess abilities that transcend human limits. His family was taken away from him and he was given to serve the king. He was trained in nothing else but to kill and follow orders. He was a man made weapon. His name whispered in fear- the kingdom's boogeyman. He hates it though. Hates how his freedom was ripped from his hands. Hates how his ‘gift’ is more like a curse. He is offered a deal he can’t deny- transport the princess to safety in a neighboring kingdom. The only problem is, she’s the daughter of the man that took everything from him and she is being hunted down by unknown forces. 

-

Warning(s): character death, self loathe, burning alive, mentions of abuse, mention of death, blood. (if I am missing any. Please let me know)

Note(s): as I deal with college finals, I have not been able to write for my Sukuna AU. I felt bad and had the first part sitting in my files so I chose to share it. You will notice that in this story, there are mentions of abilities and skills that are in JJK but are changed to suit the story plot.

No one talks about how the stench of burning flesh can be so unnervingly similar to roasted meat. The thought alone churns Choso’s stomach as his face is ground into the dirt, his tear-blurred eyes forced open to witness his home devoured by flames. Every crackling ember, every surge of heat feels like an accusation. He doesn’t look away though, though the sight tears at his soul. He deserves this torment- it’s his fault.

He should have fled the moment the cursed mark marred his face, carving a jagged path across the bridge of his nose and spreading like a sinister brand. They warned him to leave, told him what would happen, but he stayed. Why? Because he was selfish. Because he clung to a fragile hope, a desperate dream that he could stay with his mother and brother a little longer. 

Now their screams haunt him, slicing through the crackling fire. The agony in their voices etches itself into his very being, a scar that will never heal. His fault. All his fault.  

The grip on his head tightens, rough fingers yanking his hair until he’s forced to look up. Through the haze of pain and tears, Choso meets the gaze of the man who orchestrated his ruin, the king’s general, Lu. 

Lu is a vision of ruthless efficiency, his reputation as blood-soaked as the battlefield itself. His silver eyes, cold and unnatural, pierce through Choso like a blade. His grizzled features speak of age, but nothing about him suggests weakness. Even the streaks of gray in his slicked -back hair only add to the aura of relenting brutality. The deadliest man in the realm, staring down at him like a predator savoring its prey. 

Choso meets the general’s eyes, unable to stop his quivering lips and the sobs that shakes his shoulders. The general tuts his lips, suddenly releasing Choso. Choso falls limply into the dirt, curling in on himself as he cries and cries. He cries until it hurts, until the general says something to another and walks away, until he dry heaves out cries, until the flames die down and all that remains is the ash in the air. 

Choso’s lips tremble as sobs wrack his body. He can’t stop them, no matter how much he wishes to. The general clicks his tongue in disdain before abruptly letting go, letting Choso crumple to the ground like a discarded rag. 

Curled into himself, Choso cries until his chest burns, until his voice is reduced to raw, aching gasps. He cries as the general mutters orders to someone unseen and strides away, as the inferno that consumed his life finally dies down, leaving nothing but as and ruin in its wake. 

“Come on, kid.”

The voice, female and startling gentle, cuts through the oppressive silence. Choso’s bloodshot eyes flutter open, squirting against the harsh brilliance of the rising sun. 

Before him stood a woman whose weather face seemed to carry the weight of a thousand stores. Her sharp brown eyes, set beneath furrowed brows, scrutinized Choso with an intensity that made him feel as if she could see through to his very soul. Her tan skin, toughened by years of hardship and streaked with crisscrossing scars on her face and knuckles, was framed by well-worn leather armor. Her dark, untamed hair was tied back at the nape of her neck, though rebellious strands curled free, softening her otherwise severe appearance. 

“You’ve cried enough. It won’t bring them back. All you can do now is move forward,” she said, her voice roughened by years of barking commands and enduring countless battles. It carried a measured tone, steady as a ship braving stormy seas. Though she appeared to be the same age as his mother, her demeanor was anything but nurturing - her presence was as unyielding as iron. 

“Follow.”

She didn’t glance back to see if he obeyed, confident that he would. Her boots crunched against the dirt path as she strode toward the dense forest ahead. The sound of Choso stumbling to his feet confirmed her certainty. Without protest, he trailed behind, his tattered clothing clinging to his thin frame, his bare feet scraping against the rough ground - another mark of this abrupt, harrowing awakening that murdered his family. 

For a while, the only sounds were the soft rustling of leaves and the distant melody of early morning birds. Then Choso broke the silence, his voice barely rising above a whisper. 

“Who are you? Where are we going?

She didn’t pause or turn, but her keen ears caught the words. “My friends call me Shara, but you will call me ‘ma’am’. We’re going to a palace that will shape you into what you were meant to become.”

Her answered stirred unease in Choso, but he hesitated to press further. Something about her presence made him reluctant to question her. Still, curiosity gnawed at him, and after a few moments, he couldn’t stop the strained words from slipping out. 

“What am I?”

His voice trembled, raw from the grief and cries that had hollowed him out. 

Shara finally glanced over her shoulder, her scarred face unreadable. “A weapon.”

“Are you listening, Kid?”

“I’m always listening ma’am,” Choso replied, his voice steady but low. 

Shara scoffed, leaning back into the creaking wooden seat of the carriage. Choso shifted uncomfortably. It was his first time riding in one, and the enclosed space made him uneasy. He couldn’t keep an eye on his surroundings or listen for the out-of-place sounds that might signal danger. 

“Sure you are,” Shara mused, her tone laced with skepticism. She was more than just his mentor - she was the one who had taken him in after the fire razed his life to ash when he was ten. Albeit, she was most likely instructed to take him in. Thirteen years had passed since then, but the scars of that night still clung to him like a second skin. They didn’t fade; they lingered, shadowing him in waking hours and haunting him in dreams. 

Most nights, he woke drenched in sweat, the bitter taste of ask still fresh on his tongue. On the nights he didn’t sleep, he trained relentlessly - pushing his body to exhaustion, carving discipline into his muscles until it became second nature. Until it felt as permanent as the sins etched onto his soul. 

“Repeat what I just said,” Shara commanded, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. 

Choso tore his gaze from the window and met her unyielding stare. She hadn’t changed much over the years. Her gaze was as sharp as the day he’d first seen her, her voice as firm and unwavering. The only visible differences were the silver streaks threading through her dark hair and the faint lines creasing her weathered face. 

“I am to escort the princess to the kingdom of Vatish via a route prepared by the king’s advisors,” Choso recited with precision. “Upon delivering her safely, my services to the crown will be terminated - permanently.” 

“You understand what that means?” Shara’s eyes narrowed, her finger tapping rhythmically against her bicep as she studied him. 

“It means after this, I’ll no longer be bound to the crown,” he replied, his voice calm but weighted with finality.

She hummed softly, a sound of approval as she nodded. “Do you accept?” 

“Did I ever have a choice?”

“Good.”

The carriage fell into silence once more. Choso turned his attention back to the window, watching the tree blur past in a haze of green and brown. He supposed he should relax, maybe even enjoy the ride - but he couldn’t, years of relentless training had hardened him beyond comfort. His body, forged into a weapon, was always tense, always braced for battle. Relaxation was a luxury he no longer remembered how to afford. 

“Didn’t I tell you to cut your hair?” Shara’s voice sliced through the quiet like a blade. 

“I did,” he replied, not bothering to look away from the passing landscape. 

“Oh, really? What’d you cut  it with? Your teeth? It’s still long?”

Absentmindedly, Choso’s fingers drifted to his hair. The black locks fell to his nape, and a few rebellious strands often slipped into his vision. He couldn’t deny it got in the way sometimes, but the thought of cutting it shorter rarely crossed his mind. 

“It grew,” he muttered.

Shara’s laughter rolled through the carriage, deep and loud, like a crash of distant thunder. When it subsided, she let out a sigh and leaned slightly to peer out the same window as Choso. 

“You’re lucky the king is merciful enough not to kill you for looking like some wild animal.”

“Truly merciful,” Choso replied without thinking, his tone dripping with sarcasm. A scornful look twisted his face as the words left his lips.

The carriage slowed to a halt before a sweeping staircase of polished stone, flanked by guards who stood like statues, their gazes as sharp as their weapons. Choso felt the weight of their eyes, trained and unyielding, tracking his every move as he stepped out. His black fighting leathers, thick enough to ward off the biting wind yet supple enough not to hinder his movement, creaked softled with the effort. It was a rare sight to see him in anything else, even during the fleeting moments when he attempted to sleep.  

The hair on Choso's neck stood on end at the eyes trailing after him. One glance casted at Shara showed that she was not bothered by the eyes, if she was then she didn’t show. Shara and Choso were met with a castle attendant, a wordless exchange happening between his mentor and the attendant before they were led through the castle.  

The hair on the back of his neck prickled under the scrutiny. A quick glance at Shara revealed her usual calm demeanor, unshaken by the piercing stares. If she felt the tension, she gave no indication. Without a word, a castle attendant approached, exchanging a subtle nod with Shara before motioning for them to follow. 

As they were led into the castle, Choso’s gaze flitted restlessly. He cataloged everything - the twists and turns of the corridors, the placement of each window, the number of doors lining the walls. Years ago, such a task would have overwhelmed him, but not it was instinctual, each detail committed to memory with ease. 

The castle’s interior was stark yet imposing. Ornate stone walls rose on either side, their austerity broken only by the blood-red carpets that stretched across the floor. THe absence of frivolous decor gave the space an air of cold efficiency, every inch designed to intimidate rather than comfort. 

Ahead, two massive, intricately carved wooden doors creaked open by guards, revealing the castle’s main hall. Choso’s footsteps echoed faintly against the flagstone floor as his eyes took in the towering stone walls, adorned with heavy tapestries. Each one depicted the kingdom’s bloody history - scenes of conquest, kneeling enemies, and wars won through sheer brutality.  He looked away, the oppressive imagery stirring unease in his chest. 

The soaring ceiling drew his gaze upward, a masterpiece of vaulted arches painted with frescoes. Even here, the scenes spoke of violence: victorious kings, battlefields littered with the fallen, and rivers of crimson streaking the skies. Shafts of golden light poured in through high, arched windows, softening the grim narrative etched into the hall.

At the far end, a dais of white marble steps elevated the throne - a striking symbol of the kingdom’s might. Forged of deep mahogany, the throne’s high back was carved with the kingdom’s crests, its armrest shaped into snarling lions frozen mid-roar. The maroon velvet cushioning glinted faintly in the light, as though even the throne itself basked in authority. 

A crimson carpet with golden thread stretched the length of the hall, guiding the eye to the footsteps of the foot of the throne. Guards stood rigid along the walls, their halberds gripped so tightly their knuckles shone white. The air was thick with tension, a palpable miz of nerves and uncertainty as Shara and Choso took their place before the throne. 

The heavy silence deepened as another set of guards entered the room. Unlike those stationed along the walls, these men moved with a hardened precision that sent a chill through Choso’s veins. Their faces, lined and unyielding, spoke of brutal training and unrelenting discipline. THey took their places, three on either side of the throne, their presence amplifying the oppressive atmosphere. 

Choso’s stomach churned as he watched the man he despised most stride into the room. 

As the king entered, a profound silence blanketed the room. The air grew heavy, suffused with the weight of authority and history, as though the stones themselves acknowledge his power. Each of his measured steps reverberated through the vast chamber, a reminder of dominance etched into every corner. Ascending the dais with unhurried grace, the king seated himself on the throne, and the room seemed to collectively hold its breath, awaiting his command.

But it was not the king who spoke first. 

Shara, ever swift, dropped to one knee, her movement fluid and precise. Choso followed a heartbeat later, lowering his head as her voice rang out with unwavering conviction.

“All praise the mighty sun of the kingdom.” 

The guards responded in perfect synchronization, slamming the butts of their halberds against the marble floor. The sharp, rhythmic sound echoed twice, its force reverberating  through Choso’s chest. They froze in that posture, returning to their statue-like stance. 

Each passing second gnawed at Choso, his chest tightening with suppressed annoyance. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to breathe deeply, Shara’s lessons repeating like a mantra in his mind: Diminish it. Emotions are humanity’s worst weakness. You do not feel. You are not human.

He wasn’t human- not anymore. He was a tool, forged for the kingdom’s will, his humanity burned away alongside his home, his family, and his hope. 

“You may rise,” the king’s voice finally broke the silence, deep, and commanding. 

Choso and Shara stood, Shara’s posture unwavering, while Choso’s eyes shifted to the man seated on the throne. His lips pressed into a thin line as he studied the king. The monarch’s lips curved into a knowing smile, faint wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, a picture of composed authority. 

“It’s good to see you, Shara. You’ve been away for quite some time,” the king said, his tone smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of power.

Shara inclined her head, her voice noticeably softer than the one she reserved for her scolding of Choso. “Indeed, my king. Training your soldiers is no small task.”

Soldiers. The word grated against Choso’s nerves, though he willed himself to remain motionless. Not people, not citizens - just soldiers. Children torn from their families, molded into weapons through the harsh hands of death and submission. His jaw tightened, but his gaze remained fixed on the wall behind the king, a single act of restraint in a room heavy with unspoken tension. 

Then, something white caught his attention. 

Standing beside the king was a figure, still as stone but  coiled like a predator ready to strike. Arms rested at his sides, but his posture betrayed his readiness. What struck Choso most were the bandages covering the man’s eyes, pristine and stark against his skin. Choso felt his brow furrow, confusion threading through his thoughts. Why was he blindfolded? How could a man seemingly devoid of sight carry such as air of awareness?

The figure’s lips curved into a smirk, almost as if he could sense - no, see - Choso’s inquisitive gaze. Embarrassed by his own curiosity. Choso quickly averted his eyes, fixing them once more on the wall, though the image of the smirking man lingered in his mind. 

The king hums at Shara’s response, a casual nod indicating her answer sufficed - for now. Choso’s stomach tightened as the monarch’s sharp gaze shifted to him, scrutinizing every inch as though peeling back his lawyers for weakness or deceit. A single wave of the king’s hand broke the tension. 

“This is him? Your best soldier?”

“Yes, my king,” Shara replied confidently, her hand settling on Choso’s shoulder like a claim of ownership. “His drive is unmatched. His skills surpass even my most seasoned warriors.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, probing Choso for signs of falsehood in Shara’s words. The room hung in silence until a faint smile tugged at the corner of the king’s mouth, more a predator’s curl than an expression of approval. 

“That so?” he drawled. “Do tell - what is his gift?”

Choso exchanged a brief glance with Shara. Her silent nod was the only encouragement he needed before she stepped back, relinquishing the stage. Without a word, Choso moved with practiced ease, his hand darting to his forearm to unsheathe a dagger hidden within his leather sleeve. 

The blade was slender, unassuming, crafted for precision rather than carnage. Its edge glinted under the light as Choso drew it across his palm. A sharp sting bloomed, but he didn’t flinch. The first dorp of crimson appeared, and with it, a subtle shift began. 

The mark on his face - a single line running across the bridge of his nose - morphed, elongating and multiplying. Two lines extended from his brows, curving down to the corners of his mouth, their pointed tips adding an air of menace. The original line grew thinner and sharper, dividing his features like an ominous sigil. 

All eyes in the room fixed on the blood pooling in his palm. Yet, before it could drip to the floor, it stopped, hovering midair as if caught by invisible threads. With a flick of his wrist, the liquid twisted and contorted, bubbling before stretching into a blade of solid crimson. 

The weapon shifted again, reshaping into a halberd, its deadly edges gleaming. The halberd dissolved, reforming as an arrow, then fractured into countless droplets that spiraled upwards like a violent rainstorm suspended in time. The blood hovered, then shifted once more, transforming into countless razor-sharp needles. 

Without hesitation, Choso releases them.

The room tensed as the needles descended, slicing through the air with lethal precision - only to dissipate a hair’s breadth from the onlookers. The blood lost its form, splattering harmlessly onto the marble floor in crimson pools. Despite the harmless finale, unease rippled through the guards. They shifted on their feet, knuckles whitening in their weapons. 

The king leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. He regarded Choso as though he were a rare and fascinating beast, the amusement in his expression tainted by something darker. Choso finally met the gaze of the man who had unraveled his life, and for a fleeting moment during his display, he considered letting the blades find their mark. Just for a moment. 

But that feeling passed, and the blood was reduced to harmless stains on the polished floor. 

From the corner of his eye, Choso caught the smirk of the white-haired figure standing near the throne. Though his eyes were obscured by pristine bandages, the man’s grin felt as though it pierced directly through Choso’s defenses. Choso forced himself to look away, his gaze landing on Shara. 

Her expression was not one of pride in him, but her creation - a jewel she had honed, shaped, and perfected. 

“My, my,” the king mused, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He clapped slowly, the sound echoing mockingly in the chamber. “Where has someone like you been hiding all this time? And how considerate of you not to paint the room red - it would’ve been…unfortunate for you.”

The threat was as clear as the gleam in his cold eyes. Choso stiffened but said nothing, his lips pressed into a thin line as the king’s attention shifted back to Shara, who now stood proudly at his side, her posture rigid and expectant. 

“He’s perfect.”

-

Taglist: (open)

[yuesgirlfriend]

of birds and honey

part 1

(simon "ghost" riley x reader) medieval AU

summary: the year is 1312, and your fathers knight follows you to the wood.

The great hills surrounding the castle are a patchwork of green and yellows, as they always are during the summer months. Gray skies up ahead do nothing to dampen the mood of the castle; everyone is bustling about, preparing for the feast marking the new battalions arrival, as if their presence signifies something happier than impending war. 

She can see them, now, where she is perched atop the highest wall-practiced, without fear- in a way her old governesses would have certainly called unbecoming of a lady. But did not the bible speak of the virtues of a young lady- justice, fortitude, among them?

(It takes great fortitude to learn the secrets she has learned, to climb over steep walls like they were bales of hay, to listen to words she would have heard anyway, had she been born a man. Listening from the eaves and skulking about is an act of justice, not a sin.) 

The men, traversing down the trail, look like ants, she thinks- where she sits high above them, balancing on the stone, they look like children's toys. Tiny wooden figures, a small boy's idea of heroes, lined up on the yellow-green patchwork quilt. 

When they finally ride over the moat and into the stronghold, they look like any other collection knights she has seen- some cloaked, some helmetless, all shining in the half clouded, setting sun. 

That night is boisterous and rowdy, like any other feast. The courtyard is crowded with people- servants, villagers, everyone coming together to eat and drink and be merry. The tables are laden with the finest of foods. The smell of roast goose and heron, wine, and vomit hangs in the night air with the shouts and bawdy songs. The new knights drink and eat and throw things, singing their songs with everyone else.  The castle hums with life, every voice and every soul another cell in one great organism. 

(The whole time, she sits quietly as a lady should, but listens as a lady shouldn’t. No one notices, and why would they notice the Lord’s waif of a girl, silently eating at his right hand? The servants, the townspeople, even her father speak of her when they think she isn’t listening- she is, to them, as unnaturally quiet as a changeling and as likely to smile as a mourner. Such a shame, my lord, that  her birth took your wife, god rest her soul. And for the child to not even be a boy…)

The stories that feast are rambling and, wine drunk, but the message is clear- they are hired soldiers with no Christian names, under orders from the king to protect the stronghold that is her home.

But one stands out. The only one still wearing his painted  helmet, and as such doesn’t eat or drink with his companions. Instead, he sits on her fathers left side, speaking in low and gruff tones only when spoken to. 

She picks at her food as her ears pick up words like more men and allies and a thousand dead, all spoken in an accent she thinks more suited to a farmer than a soldier.

As the feast begins to die down, dancers lying about drunk, he walks with her Lord father, presumably to show him a weak point in the castle walls.

She follows along, unseen, silent footsteps trailing behind them in the shadows. The knight with the painted helmet is tall and broad when he waves a hand at a wall that, upon closer inspection, does seem weaker than the rest. A chink in the castle’s armor, he says. 

The fire dies out, people lay around in drunken heaps, and rats are scurrying for food in corners of the room by the time she retires for the night. Her maid is nowhere to be found- based on the way the Scotsman and her were wrapped around eachother earlier, it is likely best not to go looking for her- so she wanders alone to her quarters, a candle in one hand and a half eaten honey cake in the other. 

The halls are dimly lit labrynths, and every footstep she takes makes a wet scuff along the perpetually damp straw covering the chilled stone floors. She does not believe in sneaking about when not needed, and enjoys a reprieve from constant surveillance as she licks honey carelessly from her fingers, focusing more on the sweetness of the honey cake than her surroundings.

And just as she turns the corner to the starcase, a hand shoots out from a shadow  and grabs her arm. 

Her gasp is muffled by a large hand, gloved. His other hand plucks the candle from her grasp, rests it on the narrow windowsill behind him. She scrapes and thrashes at the silver of his forearm, scrambling to reach for the knife at his side before he speaks. 

“Pray, be silent, Lady- I know you are able.”

In response, she bites down on the gloved hand, hard. The man hisses but doesn’t let go, only roughly spins her to face him; and this is when she realizes it is the helmeted knight, eyes and armor shiny in the candlelight. 

She shoves at his arms, and he concedes, letting her retreat three steps up the stairs before he takes her by the hand again. 

“Release me, sir, or you will not enjoy the consequences,” She hisses. Something furious inside her is growing like a wildfire. 

“I meant no offense, but only to warn you, fair lady,” he says, seemingly contrite, but with mirth in his voice. Is he smiling, behind that hideous helmet? 

“Warn me?” She rips her hand from his. “Of what? Churlish knights, skulking behind corners?” She turns to go. 

“You are one to scold on skulking behind corners, Lady. ” Her feet freeze where they are on the steps. 

 “Yes.” His voice is rough. “You are not as invisible as you may think- not to those trained to see, Lady.  You should exercise more caution, when listenin’ from rafters and castle walls like a little bird.” He tilts his head, eyes trained on her, like a cat looking at a tree it’d like to climb. Or a bird it’d like to claw.

“I have been told you have a lovely mind. It would be a waste to see it dashed on a tower’s stony base.” 

For the first time in ages, she forces her eyes to meet anothers. His are dark, redless, with what looks like coal smudged on his eyelids and undereyes. His eyes never falter from her stare, as would be proper. His pale lashes don’t so much as flutter. 

She turns and continues walking upstairs- but before she rounds the corner, she looks behind and down to where he stands, at the base of the stairs, licking remnants of honey off his glove. 

[lorei-writes]

Amberian Demonology AU Headcanons feat. Ikemen OC Community ~3.95k

Thank you for allowing me to write your OCs! When I asked to see who'd trust me, I never expected so many replies >///< I hope that the little something I've come up with is a fun surprise... I'd say you can think about it as of a Dark Fairytale AU as well >:)

Amberian folklore introduces a hierarchy of supernatural beings. At the bottom of it are dushki, generally kind-hearted spirits of little power who co-exist with humans in symbiosis, often for their own safety. Then, there are s’lna dusha – this class consists of spirits of various powers, but unlimited freedom. They can and generally do exist independently of any other beings, although there exists a substantial disparity in level of might between them. At the top of the hierarchy exist minor gods and goddesses, idit. They are the most powerful among all of the spirits, however, they lack freedom. Each of them has a duty which completely binds them. Their lives are not their own to live for as long as it remains unfulfilled. They are not worshipped; rather, they are the expression of the laws binding the universe and introducing the order to it.

The introduction of monotheistic fate to Amber did not fully erase the old beliefs; rather, it turned them into superstition and beings of lesser importance, placing the God-Father as the only true deity, the maker and the architect of all order.

Dragini – Melinda @dododrawsstuff

Find her at the crossroads, sitting alone on a stone or staring at the sign with unseeing eyes. Which way should she choose? Dragini does not know. Hopefully, the coming of the next traveller will bring the end to her struggle… Until then, until that yet unseen person arrives, she will bless those who meet her on their journeys.

A kind protector spirit – meeting a dragini is a sure sign that a traveller will reach their destination safely.

The Dragini are no stranger to homesickness and at times, will appear before the lonesome souls who long to return home. They can take them there, or gift them a piece of it – although it may be realised in a rather unexpected form.

Some of the legends claim that draginins are born from spirits of women who died away from home and were not granted a proper burial. Often accident or war victims.

A polyglot, although her preferred language seems not to be of this world. Only few are humoured and have a conversation with her, and even fewer can recount it. It is alleged that they’re the ones to escort a dragini back where she belongs.

Generally seen wearing outfits from faraway lands, a different one each time she is spotted.

Glodomer – Oliver @evansnoir

He lurks in the corners of barns, in mice nests, in the buzzing of flies. He lives in every ear of wheat, rocked by winds as in a cradle, and dutifully observes the human hands. Dare not disrespect him – to waste food is a sin. A punishment will await those who fail to understand as much.

The Glodomer is a powerful spirit of dual nature – usually a gentle observer, he is capable of calling various plagues upon a region if he so desires.

He lives among the smallest of beings, just barely out of the sight of human eyes. His stealth allows him to come close without being noticed, which he uses to satiate his bottomless curiosity. A glodomer can bring hunger, but he is also hungry and craves to expand his knowledge.

However, glodomers not an omnibenevolent dusha – do not disrespect them or those they rule over. A glodomer is the king of all that lives despite being invisible, including the sick air. With one uttered curse, he can poison an entire village. It is said that he can be appeased with a hefty offering of freshly butchered beef.

Very few people have seen him, but the legend says he can be found napping in black hollyhocks.

Usually portrayed as an androgynous man around the size of a walnut.

Le’shni – Maeve @keithsandwich

Whenever you cut down an elden oak tree, place an offering at the stump. Spare no expense. The feast must be lavish – ready your goat milk, and cheese, and the freshly brewed beer. Raise your cups and praise Le’shni, and leave some bread for her as well. It is only due to her generosity that you are able to celebrate. Do not take it for granted.

A spirit protector of the forests.

The Le’shni are the force of nature personified, they arethe life and soul of the forest they inhabits. A le’shni cannot ever leave it, for their existence is tightly interwoven. She is its mother.

She takes on the appearance of a woman and wields the human speech. However, be not deceived – the aura of gentle helplessness is but a deception. To protect what is dearest to her, a le’shni will cast away all pretence of humanity.

It is believed that for every cut down tree one must hold a feast to appease the local Le’shni and help her replenish her strength. The alternative offerings include a pot of berries or a mug of warm tea, planting a bush or a tree, or… leaving a child alone in the forest at night, to give the le’shni some solace as she mourns her lost offspring.

Lay-la-lay – Beatrice @bicayaya

Lay la luli lalalala lay, sleep, my sun, stay asleep, may kind people live within your dreams, the rain is pelting right outside, lay la luli lalala, lay-la-lay…

A household spirit, the bringer of many blessings.

Fairy-like in appearance, female or feminine, with butterfly wings and usually light hair.

It is believed that lay-la-lays are minor nature spirits who, in their kindness, have chosen to watch over the children. They arrive at human houses soon after a baby is born to ward off any beings who’d like to consume their vitality. However, it temporarily severs the spirit’s connection with nature. As such, a domestic lay-la-lay depends on their hosts for sustenance.

Good parents – and by extension, hosts – will offer their lay-la-lay a saucer of milk or heavy cream, a slice of bread, and something sweet to go with it (depending on the season: berries, or a spoonful of jam or honey). If they fail to do so, she may have to move out.

A well-fed lay-la-lay may choose to remain with her family well after the child comes of age. Humans lose the ability to see them with age; in that case, a feline companion must be obtained, to ensure that the lay-la-lay does not feel lonely and will continue on blessing the household.

Each lay-la-lay possesses a pleasant voice. Her melodies are thought to heal and to be particularly effective against colic.

Rusla – Leyla @violettduchess

Beware of the sudden cold and the mist that follows. One must retreat indoors [once it starts], however, were that not possible… he shall say “Our Father” until he reaches safety, spitting over his left shoulder at the end of every last verse. If that too fails and one begins to hear music, he shall confess his sins while waiting for Rusla to pass her judgement. The innocent will be found safely asleep on the shore. The bodies of the guilty will float at sea until currents carry them into the shallows. [As believed in northern Amber.]

A minor deity, the paragon of justice watching over the coastal regions of northern Amber.

Rusla takes on a form of a naked young woman with long, flowing hair, always surrounded by mist. Whoever hears her call falls into a trance and follows her into the sea, where she draws the crimson thread from their heart to appraise its purity. Only the innocent need not fear – Rusla will call upon the waves to deliver them to the shore.

The legend says a man has once avoided Rusla’s judgement by stuffing his ears with flax tow and wax. He followed her to the sea of his own will and they both disappeared for precisely a year. Not a word had left his lips since.

Epoha – Iris @yarnnerdally

Tic-tac, tic-tac, tic-tac, the spinning wheel turns. Epoha’s hands are gentle and dexterous as they pull at the roving. She’s done it for all eternity, and for all eternity she shall continue, the patient mother of all time.

A minor deity, responsible for the cycles of time.

A young woman or a mother, sometimes described as pregnant, usually portrayed by a spinning wheel or with a spindle in her hand; less often – with weaving tablets.

Epoha rarely appears of her own volition, however, it is believed that she can be invited over for dinner. To do that, one must prepare a feast of sweets. Anything less than twenty eggs for a sponge cake is insufficient. Cream and pudding, kutia, and poppyseed roulades… Once everything is ready, the shutters must be parted. A cloaked woman should arrive within the next hour.

One may dine with Epoha and ask her questions about his future. She is a compassionate deity and will answer them truthfully, but only until the first moths arrive, lured inside by the light.

She disappears at the sight of the insects, together with the food that has been so thoughtfully prepared for her. Worry not if not much information has been obtained – she may spin the thread more favourably still, thankful for the refreshing meal.

Zorana & Nichna – Viva & Esther @lorei-writes

[…] And so it would be known as the equinox, for the day split as they were born. Zorana, that dedicated to the red glow of morning skies, and Nichna, that weaving silver constellations on the night sky. Together they are locked in an eternal game, passing the sun and the moon between each other so that they do not ever get lost. [As told in the story of the Father’s creation of the world.]

Minor deities, recognised in the entirety of Amber. Their other names include: Porana & Nechna, J’sna & C’mna, Zorja & Stra.

Twins, usually depicted as naked women throwing the sun and the moon between each other as if the celestial bodies were balls. Their eyes are said to be as dark as the starless nights, spun light the hair over their heads.

Although none have ever seen them, it is commonly believed that every new moon the twins come to the Krasnawe Oka lakes, where the sky and the ground meet as one. Their laughter carries over the water as they play, more human than divine, yet undeniably unreal.

It is believed that it is the only time the moon or the sun – or either of the celestial sisters – could be stolen. To have a chance of succeeding at that, however, one must brave the marsh in the dark, without the guidance of any light. Cursed be those who fail.

Banialuka – Katsuko @the12thnightproject

Hear not a word in a crowd unless you know which mouth bore it. Discord and venom all but fly over the instigator’s heads; there is one even above them, however. Do not trust the talking birds.

A shapeshifting spirit that can take on a form of any flying bird, although cases of small rodents have also been reported.

The Banialukas are seen as rather self-serving, although nobody knows their true intentions. Free as the wind itself, they fly above cities and towns, instigating mischief wherever they go. A master manipulator and an adept liar, a banialuka capable of mimicking any voice she has heard – and using that for her own purposes.

According to the legends, she traverses the world in search of treasure, to then return to her castle-nest in faraway mountains. It is said to be built entirely of twigs, dawn and hard, cold stone. Only those willing to brave the steep slopes it oversees can hope to browse through its treasury.

Be careful, however. A banialuka’s tongue is sharp, but it is hardly the only weapon in her arsenal.

When in human form, she usually assumes the appearance of a mildly eccentric-looking woman. What gives her true identity away are the brightly coloured streaks in her hair – some claim they resemble rooster’s tail feathers.

Skrzyp – Romarin @ikeprinces-stuff

Come to the moorlands at dawn to find the common horsetail. Break its stem thrice, each time with an audible creek, and throw it over your right shoulder. Clap your hands three times and bow as deeply as if the most renowned violinist stood before you. If the heathers hum, the skrzyp has arrived. Otherwise, try another day. [As believed in the central regions of Amber.]

A lonesome spirit that is believed to spend the majority of her life in the form of a cricket. However, she can take up the appearance of a young woman in an intricately embroidered (sometimes with emerald-looking insect wings) gown, usually with long hair let loose down her back.

The Skrzyp are virtuosos of music. She can play nearly any instrument, however, she is most adept at the art of violin – the notes she conjures have arcane properties, and so, many seek her in hopes of hearing her song for their own benefit. Some also hope to become her apprentice… Or to convince her to grant them her gift.

However, everything comes at a price. It is believed one can make a request of a skrzyp, but only if they pass her trial. Those who play even one false note will be turned into escargots.

Gon – Aino @dicenete

They ride on the nights of the full moon, the bellowing of a splendid war horn the signal for their arrival. Close the shutters. Close the doors. Do not let any passing visitors into your house, however innocent they may seem… It is the hunt, and the sinners are the hunted. Hide until they pass.

Gon is one of the minor deities at the head of the hunt, infamous for the duality of her nature – usually a warrior, she can appear as an innocent woman to lure her prey out of its hiding.

She leads the party of spirits together with her lover and his twin brother, the deities of the cycle of rebirth.

It is believed that the hunt targets those who have sinned and have shown no remorse nor will to change their ways. As such, they will be followed through the nation, from woods to the ballrooms of the royal castle. No place will be safe and their torment will know no end until they are hunted and their souls are handed over to the deities of rebirth, to be reshaped and forced to start over in their new lives.

Commonly pictured as either riding an enormous warhorse with a crossbow on her back, or as dancing gracefully in a ballroom, dressed in the finest of velvets.

Didko – Sigfrit @wordycheeseblob

Young men should be especially cautious when they notice a mysterious woman sitting alone in an inn. Do not tell her a word of any weight until you look into her eyes and hold her gaze – if the briefly change colour or shimmer unnaturally, it is not a woman you are talking to, but a didko. Do not talk to her.

A spirit commonly found traversing the roads and lounging in the inns, among other places where information can be found. It is uncertain what she does with the acquired knowledge, however, it is known it will bring forth mischief. By the end of the torment, the matter will be resolved favourably… for the person the didko sides with.

Didkos are infamous for their charming personalities and adaptability. Some believe them to be living false mirrors that reflect precisely that which one longs to be.

Observant and highly adept at reading people, didkos are susceptible to bribery. Offer her a night of blissful gluttony to win her favour… Be careful, however, as your tongue may unravel, thus revealing many more secrets than you have originally intended to.

Commonly seen among merchants and pilgrims, especially during the Lent.

Brzdęk – Ciel @floydsteeth

If you hear the metallic jangle of coins out in the middle of nowhere, you ought to stop. Any horse you may have with you will not take a step forward – you, however, should follow the sound. Those quick enough will be rewarded with finding the brzdęk’s liar, where all sorts of treasures are kept. Catch the little spirit before they enter it to demand a hefty ransom. [As believed in eastern-most regions of Amber.]

A lesser spirit commonly found living on the steppe.

Brzdęks tend to share their liars with mice – in exchange for protection, the rodents provide the spirits with food and company. The bottommost chamber of their nest thus becomes the brzdęk’s treasury, filled with precious stones, cut glass, coins, and other marvels big and small.

Their aversion towards horses is infamous – a brzdęk will go to any lengths to prevent the animal from coming anywhere near them. Usually that means casting spells and preparing enchanted rings, however, traps may also be employed.

Commonly depicted while riding on tops of mice and rats… or flying on magpies’ backs. The elder brzdęks may have special saddles made for them as well.

It is believed that they are born out of magpie eggs hatched by hens that are yet to have their own chicks.

Ohenna – Ava @writingwhimsey

Burn dried grass from wild flower fields to summon her; Ohanna will dance in the bonfires, her body made of flames. Hold her fiery gaze and utter the name of your enemy five times. If you can withstand her scorching breath, you will have your revenge; however, if you falter but once, you will known Ohenna’s wrath. She is the just anger. Do not think you can deceive her. [As believed in the mountains of south-western Amber.]

A minor deity, the embodiment of rightful anger.

Ohenna is not somebody you can stumble into – her existence is tied strictly to the fire. Unless she’s been summoned to talk, she dwells in each flame equally, silently watching over the world through them. She’s the executor, the one to deliver justice to those who have been otherwise wronged and forgotten.

Her will is stronger than iron that she smelts. Ohenna’s judgement is absolute.

One is advised to pick his words carefully while pleading with Ohanna, for she is known for her intelligence and strong feelings.

It is believed any summer or fall fires are Ohanna’s war dance. Many young men gather to witness it, although few manage to follow her movements.

Bza – Yara @fang-and-feather

If you see forget-me-nots growing by the side of an abandoned house, wipe the soles of your shoes clean upon entering it. One shall never be too certain that a bza does not inhabit it. Do not be rude to her – it is those spirits that prevent the decay.

A timid spirit that generally prefers solitude. Can be found dwelling in abandoned buildings or old houses, less often – in attics, among drying herbs, or in hospital wards.

Despite keeping to themselves, bzas are rather friendly and helpful spirits. They maintain properties and prevent the decay and rot from seeping inside – they keep the space clean and adorned in fresh flowers. It is believed that their presence soothes plants.

One is considered fortunate if he manages to invite a bza to live at his house. To do that, he must press three dozens of pansy flowers and then sew them into a garland. Once hanged above the entryway, it will signal that bzas are welcome in the house; however, it is only an invitation. It is only the spirit’s good will if she accepts it.

Appears as a semi-translucent woman with, at times, vividly coloured hair. She invites the smell of fresh herbs, mint, irises, or – often – jasmine.

Deshen’na – Caroline @coral-relevium

Find her in every drop of rain, from a warm spring mizzle to a summer thunderstorm. Look closely – she passes through the fields in her long gown, dark against the surrounding greenery. One ought not to talk with Deshen’na, however, just meeting her gaze is enough to ward off a draught from one’s crop for the following months. [As believed in north-eastern regions of Amber.]

A minor deity, commonly associated with the coming of rain and mourning. (The latter is not the case in north-eastern regions of Amber, which are often stricken with droughts. There she becomes a sign of impending good fortune and everlasting love.)

It is believed that the rain is the tears Deshen’na shed while mourning the death of her husband. Her duty is to walk the land and nourish it with her grief, in a loving memory of the deity of deceit.

A few men believe that draughts haunt north-eastern Amber as it is Deshen’na’s last stop during her pilgrimage to her husband’s grave, where they can briefly reunite once every year. It is said he has tricked even the death itself.

Pale, generally seen in intricate black gowns, giving her the appearance of a noblewoman.

Ne’zvana – Adria @eternallyfrustratedwriter

Do not say her true name lest you wish to summon her; one who does so willingly shall be cursed out, for it is only chaos that follows her. One ought not to even think of her nor picture her in his mind.

An infamous spirit, commonly considered to be the bringer of misfortune or broadly understood chaos.

A ne’zvana is hardly welcomed anywhere, however, it does not mean she lives in solitude. Rather, she hides her existence from those around her. It is said that a person followed by bad luck or otherwise surrounded by unusual events may be haunted, possessed, or in fact be a ne’zvana.

It is believed that a ne’zvana is born when a child grows too moody. Chastising them is one of the few instances when the ne’zvana get brought up.

Due to the fear of summoning her, her original name was used so rarely it has since fallen into complete obscurity. Similarly, hardly any records of her appearance remain, although many believe her to take on a form of a traveller or an insect, such as a bee.

It is said that a ne’zvana can be recognised by her smile. The exact specifics of how, however, are unclear.

Kania – Marigold @violettduchess

Be careful while in the forest – a batting of powerful wings above your head and a high-pitched screeching are no things to be ignored. Stand still whenever you hear them and take three deep breaths. If no voice comes, you are safe to go on as you were. However, if a stranger woman extends her greetings, you must leave immediately. Do not answer Kania unless you consider yourself the master of riddles.

A shapeshifter spirit inhabiting Amber, generally taking on the appearance of a kite (bird) or a scholarly woman with thin-wire-rimmed glasses.

Kania is a voracious spirit that enjoys toying with her prey. That being said, she is also honest and stays true to her word – as per the agreement from days gone by, she can target only those who acknowledge her presence.

Once that is done, one is given another chance to save his life. He must answer three riddles correctly. Achieving that is said to gain the respect of the spirit who then releases her prey.

It is believed that Kania’s appetite is directly connected with her hunger for knowledge. Feasting on humans during the day, she sneaks into noblemen’s libraries and church archives at night to indulge in the consumption of knowledge.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @solacedeer @keithsandwich @bicayaya @faustianfascination

@sh0jun @queengiuliettafirstlady

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, Sukuna fks reader with both his cocks in both holes ahem, (yayyy) lots of use of all his tongues and mouths OF COURSE, public sex, cockwarming, Sukuna calls you little bunny and slutty etc, soft Sukuna, he's falling in LOVE but is stubborn lol true form Sukuna, smacking (pussy, titties, ass, face- all of it lmao) THIS CHAP IS ALMOST ALL SMUT and fluff w/a little angst at the beginning

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, Four Parts (this is the final one) you're not gonna get much plot, I really wanted them being cute!? don't ask.- also I suck at writing powers, so sorry if I fk anything up that's canon lol! - WC this chap- 7.9k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated if you like this silly stuff, ty for all the love on these little parts they make me so happy❤️

<<<part three

Part Four- Final Part

Two weeks later

Why have you fallen in love with such an ass?

You had asked this question to yourself many times, finally Sukuna was back home, but you refused to go see him, hiding in your room instead. Sukuna had summoned you to dine with him, but you simply locked yourself in, fiddling with the brilliant necklace, the only thing he’d left aside from his infuriating note, watching how the candlelights reflect the facets of the gems.

Knock knock knock.

“I’m not coming, Uraume.” You say, knowing their knock now.

“The King is demanding you come, you must obey.”

“Then he can drag me out.” You hear their footsteps softly padding along the corridors, echoing in the halls.

You wanted to see him, you were dying to see him, but you were far, far too angry, too hurt right now to face him. The past couple of weeks of loneliness, of curling up in his throne and inhaling the scent he left, of being just pathetic over him, over everything he had said. He acted as if he could make you not love him, but that was completely impossible.

You fell for him, for the King of curses, who you have been promised to, the one that your powers are the antithesis of. The being so intimidating to all, but you knew what it was to have his arms around you, what it was to sit on his lap in the throne room like his Queen, which you were. You know what it was to be kissed so thoroughly, the little intimate moments he tries to brush off.

You’re in love with him, and you can’t face him.

Suddenly your door is being banged on, you tense just a bit, jumping now, breath coming in small pants when you hear his booming voice. “I’ll blast this door off the fucking hinges if you don’t come out, wife.”

You huff, scowling as your slippered feet gently pad across the cold marble floor below you, hand shaking as you touch the brass knob, you’re terrified you’ll fold once you face him. You have no willpower, he could just look at you and you’ll open for him, so pathetically, but you’re so angry with him too, you’re conflicted as you pause, knowing he’s right on the side of the door.

“I don’t want to see you.” You choke out then, hiding a sob and failing, Sukuna smacks the door again, making it vibrate.

“Open now, brat. I swear I’ll destroy your entire wing right now.”

“Why? You don’t even like me.”

“Psh, you insolent-”

“Go away, your Majesty.” You can practically hear him seething, feeling his energy so strongly then.

“You open this door now and eat. I command you as your fucking King and husband.”

“Ugh! Fine.” You open the door then, tears glimmering unshed in your eyes, Sukuna sees it then, the hurt on your face, the face he couldn’t get out of his head for weeks. Eyes that haunted him as much as they annoy the shit out of him.

“Do not dare cry.” He orders, you stand straight up then, fists clenched at your sides.

“Your audacity knows no bounds, you cannot constantly command me not to do things, to feel things. If it is so terrible just leave me be, you’ve more than had your chances to make an heir I’m sure. We’ll see if it takes.” Sukuna slams the door open when you try to shut it, walking in now, step by step.

“When were your monthlies?” He asks, you blink then, shaking your head as you try to think.

“I am due this week, so we will know soon if you must lay with me again.”

All four of his ruby eyes glare now. “If I must!?”

“Indeed. I’ll inform you, now… if you please-”

“Fuck that.” Sukuna shuts your door, turning and pressing you against it now, intimidating as his arms bar you, two on either side of your head, two cupping your face. “As if you don’t desire me.”

“I do, but I will not be hurt and dismissed like I’m some stupid child.”

“You basically are to me.”

“Then go. Concubines must miss you- ah!” Sukuna’s slammed his lips on yours now, melting you completely, you’re clinging to him so desperate as he lifts you like you are nothing, you’re just fucking dangling as he holds you so high, lips already swelling from his kisses.

“I am here, I want you, got it brat?” Sukuna speaks through his teeth, two hands gripping your ass rough over your robes. “I need you.”

“Need me?” Your brain short circuits, he’s kissing you desperate, it is needy how he’s all over you, you’re trembling, thighs shaking around his thick waist, tasting the sweet wine on his tongue as it devours your mouth.

“Need to be inside you, fuck I’ve missed it.” You gasp as he parts your robes with two hands while the other two press you against the door, his tongue on his bare abdomen lapping at your bare pussy, you’re whimpering at it, clit throbbing. “Missed your taste, gods.”

“Kuna… you’re…” His thick, long tongue is lapping at you, his lips back on yours again, you’re clinging to his bare shoulders, long nails are pressing against his skin, you’re shaking when he’s lapping at you, over and over, eyes rolling back.

“Need my cocks inside you, bunny. Waited too long.” He huffs, carrying you to the bed now, undoing his robes, you stop him, shaking your head and closing your thighs, earning his glare. “Excuse me, brat?” He shoves them open, only for you to close them once more, glaring right back.

“You left me with a stupid note and some necklace, as if that’ll make anything better! Don’t, I can’t think straight when you touch me.” You whimper those words, he’s cupping your face, red eyes dilated, lips hungry as he lays naked over you.

“I’ll buy you more things, anything, have you dripping with every gem in the fucking country, hmm?”

“No, Kuna. No. You didn’t have to love me back, but to leave me like that? To write your stupid note!? No!” You shove at him, tears falling from your eyes, your body and soul ache for him, but your heart is hurting, as you look at his face in the night, the lights casting shadows on all the hard planes of his face.

“You are stupid to think you do, have you not come to your goddamn senses? Why can’t you just enjoy it… enjoy this.” He’s slathering kisses down your ribcage, your tummy, nipping at your flesh with sharp teeth, his long black nails pressing into your skin, making you soaking wet with every stroke of his hand, of his tongues darting out from all his damn hands.

“If you’re… so… mmm… horny then go… to them- ah!” Sukuna slaps your cheek then, you slap him right back, then you’re devouring each other again, it’s insanity, you’re biting the King of Curses lip so hard you draw blood.

“I don’t want anyone but you, annoying pest.” He grips your chin then, kissing you with the blood all over his mouth, you whine into his lips now, hips arching.

“Why?” You whisper, he sighs, shaking his head. “Why? If you do not answer you will not lay with me.”

“You’re commanding me!?” He leans up on his arms, looming over you, and you’re nodding, watching his ruby eyes narrow. “I cannot explain why I only want a stupid bunny like you, but I do.”

“Is it because you care? At all?” He leans off you then, groaning and running a big hand through his pastel hair.

“I cannot fathom how I’ve come to have such an annoying, insolent girl. Perhaps I should lay with them, if you say so.”

“Go then!” You stand, shoving at the big luk of a damn man, he’s like steel under your palms, his jaw set.

“You want me to?”

“No!” You’re sobbing then, and he’s shaking his head, studying you, hating that you drive him to insanity, hating that all he wants is this brat who smacks him, who bites at him, how can he handle this? You’re making him so fucking crazy, he just wants you screaming in pleasure, not this. “But you should, if you don’t care.”

“I do care, foolish brat.” You shake your head even as he cups your face once more, thumbs brushing under your jaw line, feeling your fluttering pulse point. “Fragile little human, I’ve let you go on too much.”

“You keep trying to scare me away, it won’t work, all you’re doing is hurting me instead, hurting us.” You let him wrap his enormous fingers around your throat, he does it gently, hand shaking, losing his composure.

“What can I do to make you smile again?” He whispers, releasing your throat, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“Let me express myself without doubting me, without making fun of me for it. I know my own heart, you cannot tell me what to feel.” He curses then, looking up at the ceiling, despising the way he wants to make you happy, please you.

You’ve become everything he can think of and he despises that too.

“Must you say the nonsense?” He murmurs, and you smile just a bit, stepping closer, how insane are you, to have the King of Curses hand around your throat and not even flinch? No, you smile instead.

“I won’t constantly say it, but you needed to know how I felt. What if I never saw you again?” The guilt eats at him now, picturing you, the staff has said you’ve barely left the room, that you’ve barely eaten, he even sees your cheeks more hollow, your waist smaller under his touch, infuriating him further.

“I hear you’re refusing food, how are you to make an heir if you waste away?” He says terself, grabbing you tightly now by the waist.

“I was depressed, I cannot eat when I’m depressed.” You whisper.

“So you’ll eat now, even if I have to force food down your throat, got it?” Come to dinner with me.”

“What, you’ll feed me like some baby?”

“You are a dumb little baby. Now.” You stomp after him, tying your robes as he does, you sit far away from him, across the giant table, further infuriating him as you chew your meal.

“Happy, King?” You ask, sipping your water now, Sukuna scoffs, standing up and walking to you.

“Am I happy that my bride is the most petulant brat? No.” You smack at his hands when he starts trying to shove fork fulls in your mouth. “Stop it this instant.”

“I don’t need you to feed me, I need you… I need…” You shake your head, standing and turning, earning him yanking your back against his chest, two arms wrapping you now. “S-stop…”

“You’re aching for me, bet your cunt is soaked. Why fight this, you stubborn girl?” You gasp in pleasure as he cups you between your thighs, feeling your heat against his fingers. “You know you want me inside your slutty cunt.”

“I want you to not be an ass. Ngh!” Sukuna has you bent over the table now, one hand pinning your wrists as the other lifts your robes, your thighs tremble when he sinks two long fingers, curling them just so, you’re weakly whining out and dripping down his hand and wrist, head pressing against the tablecloth. “Mmm…”

“You want me to fill you, don’t you?”

“W-want you… not so fucking… mean.”

He laughs, leaning over you now, but his eyes catch yours, and something takes his breath away, making him gulp now. “Fine, say your stupid sentence if it makes you stop those tears. I only want you moaning.”

“You won’t g-get mad again?” You whisper, he shakes his head, continuing to move his fingers up and down inside your slick little hole, aching for his huge cocks so badly you can’t think.

“Just get it over with, bunny.”

“Love you.” He moans now, kissing you deeply, your words hit him so hard his usually steady hands tremble, he hates those stupid words, from your perfect lips, but he hates you sad much more. You exhale, sniffling, when he stands, turning you and picking you up, holding you tightly.

“Annoying.” Is all he manages, gulping then, you sigh, clinging around his neck now, kissing him softer, so soft he feels too much. “I need to be inside you, do not make your King beg.”

“Would it be so bad, you begging for once?” You whisper, he exhales, sitting you on the table, between your spread thighs, two hands shoving them apart while two fondle your breasts over your robes.

“You think I’ll beg? I’m a King.” You hum softly, trailing your hands down his hard body, finding one of his cocks under his robe, stroking then, catching his eyes as you feel his hard length, you watch his lip part, lashes lowering.

“Maybe you will beg for me. Beg to be inside me again?” You bring his tip against your soppy cunt, he grips you tightly, but you shove him back, smiling.

“You’ll not tease me.” He pulls you against him, but you shake your head, back to stroking him instead, he moans out, resting his head against yours. “You want me just as bad as I do, stop pretending.”

“You alright, Kuna?” You whisper now, teasing your clit with one of his leaky tips, he tries to pull you again but your free hand stops him. “What do we say when we want something?”

“I am so not fucking begging.”

“Hmm. Good night then.” You let go of him, hopping off the table, he scoffs, yanking you by your wrist now, yanking you back, leaning over you, he is intimidating.

“Your pretty pussy is aching, isn’t it?”

“Pretty?” You whisper.

“All of you is. Pretty and irritating.” He kisses you deeper, you feel it then, how much of himself he’s putting to you, and you want to cave so badly.

“Then why don’t you beg to come to my bed?” 

“Tch, no… you beg for me to fill you.” You’re whining out as his tongue slips against your clit again, your eyes roll back. “So stubborn, clit is twitching, pussy is drooling.”

“Sh-shut up.” Sukuna smirks though, carrying you up the stairs now, so quickly he has you there before you can blink, you get dizzy when he’s got you back laid on his bed, moaning when he parts your robes and gazes.

“This is where you belong, in my bed naked, constantly.” He huffs, watching as your hair splays out, your purple robes under you, you look so fucking pretty he can’t stand you, how bad his cocks hurt, the precum oozing out of his tips, decorating your inner thighs with white droplets,be spreads them across your skin.

“You need to apologize.”

“What!? Absolutely not.”

“Then we will just lay here.” Sukuna is infuriated now, shoving up off the bed to stare at you, as if you've grown four arms yourself.

“What do you want from me, woman?”

“To apologize for being a dick, leaving without saying goodbye.” He sighs and clenches his teeth.

“Cease that eye watering nonsense. Will you smile if I say it then?” You nod. “Fine, I'm sorry that I did not say farewell, and for… for finding your words foolish.” You stroke his face then, thumbs brushing over the sharp jut of a cheekbone.

“Thank you, Kuna. I missed you.” You whisper softly, you feel the warmth spread through your body, find yourself falling deeper and deeper.

“Your body missed me too, didn't it?”

“Did yours?” Your hand goes to his bare chest, where his heart thuds faster under your touch. He gulps, nodding just a bit, an imperceptible movement that anyone else might miss, but it emboldens you then. “Then lay on your back, my King.”

“Me on my back?” You can tell then, he hasn't done it, let someone have control. You stroke down his chest, his abdomen, trailing his tattoos.

“I'll make you feel very good, husband.” He does as you command, laying on his back, two hands behind his head as the other two find purchase in your hair while you're kissing down his throat, his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat when your tongue darts across a flat nipple.

“You’re an annoying pest.” He grumbles, you smile against him as your lips trail even lower, kissing along the black lines that slide across him, while your fingers set to tug and expose his cocks fully, earning his groan. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why can’t I? You certainly do enough, hmm?” You’re kissing the tips of him now, tongue flicking across the little slits that keep pumping white, inhaling his musky scent as you go.

“M’gonna shove them both in your insolent mouth at once.” He grumbles, but he doesn’t, he watches you with four dilated eyes, the lower ones so lidded they’re just slits that are glimmering in the soft candlelight of his room, which casts shadows across the wall so lewd, your head bobbing on one of his cocks now. “F-fuck…”

You enjoy sucking him, you’ve had much practice in a short time, enjoy the way his lips part, the way his muscles tense, how his hips buck up and jerk. You brace yourself with one hand on the bed, the other stroking his lower cock, his huge, muscled frame trembling under your caresses, his moans urging you.

“Take it deeper, brat, hmm? Can you?” He’s taunting you, but his voice is breathy, you feel him losing his control when his hands yank on your hair, and you take his cock deep in your throat, swallowing and moaning around it, making it vibrate. “Fuck! Need to be inside you, now.”

You pull back, cheeks hollowing, lips smacking and leaving trails of saliva like little glittery strings when you kitten lick his tip again. “Not yet, Kuna-ah!”

Sukuna uses his lower arms to drag you up now, holding you damn near suspended in the fucking air, you’re panicking as he’s chuckling. “Oh you little brat, you really think I can’t do anything I want to you?”

“Put me d-down this instant!” He’s chuckling at you, ass of a man, before he starts dragging your hips to slide across his cocks, between your soppy slit, you’re coating every inch of him, tears falling at how good it feels.

“You’re gonna get filled all night, bunny.” He slams you down on one of his cocks then, you’re screaming at the stretch, cunt throbbing around him, he hisses. “Loosen up, now.”

“C-can’t, m’gonna…” You’re getting eased off his cock again, then yanked back on the other, as his tongue from his stomach slathers your clit, you’re nearly sent over the edge, head falling back, hair falling like a curtain down it. “Ngh!”

“Wanna fill both your slutty holes.” He huffs, one of his tips pressing against your little puckered hole now, he chuckles at your expression. “Not yet, you’re too much of a frightened little prey.”

“M’not, ah- close, close… please…” You whine now, he’s just teasing you with his tips again, one slipping in your other hole, it feels so good you can’t take it, especially when his tongue is lapping at you again, two hands squishing your breasts.

“That’s it, cum all over me, now bunny.” He huffs, looking at you as you fall apart over him, you’re shattering while your cum is pouring all over, making a slick mess, body twitching when he sinks you back fully on one again. “There she goes, she loves being filled by her king, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” You’re over pretending to have control, just clinging to him as he fucks up into you, faster and harder, thrusts jostling you so much your damn teeth click, your pussy is pulsating all around him, your arousal pooling at the base of one cock, while he pummels into you.

“Perfect pussy, s’mine, hmm? Made f’me, made to take me.” You’re whimpering your answer, pathetically, and Sukuna’s thrusts falter, he leans up, kissing your lips, making you fall even deeper, as you struggle to stay on this plane of existence whatsoever, it’s like you’re floating and falling into the abyss that’s him.

“Mhm.” You manage, but it’s enough to urge him, to make his cock pulse for you, leaking against your cervix.

 “Gonna take this seed, fill your womb with my heir.”

“Please, please Kuna. Want it, w-want it.” He moans then, sloppy kisses between you both, as your cunt milks his cock for every spurt of cum that starts shooting up inside you.

“Feel m-me?” He’s exhaling, his voice a whisper, he can barely handle how good your cunt feels around him, how she’s gripping him, your eyes roll back in your skull, your mouth open, breasts arched against him when he stuffs you so full. He feels your cervix as he keeps pumping more and more cum. “Asked you a question, brat.”

His gentle smack on your face only makes you cum harder, he groans then, smacking your ass, your tits, little gentle thwacks that prolong you, while his cock stays buried. You’re a trembling goddamn mess, blinking blackness out of your vision as you struggle to focus on your King, sprawled under you, his eyes locked on every movement of your body and face.

“Kuna…” You whisper, blinking rapidly then, he eases out of you, moaning when he watches the mess pouring out of your hole.

“You’re wasting it again, tch.” You barely register how you are on your back, Sukuna’s long fingers stuffing the cum trickling all over into your sore cunt.

“Too much, mmh!” He laughs then, booming laughter that fills his chambers, easing his fingers out and shoving your thighs up, folding you in half. “Wh-what are you doing, I’m sore… ass of a man- ah!”

Sukuna’s thwap on your cunt stings, as he glares down at you. “I’ve had enough of your mouth running, you missed me filling you, didn’t you? Answer.”

“Y-yes.” You’re shaking when his face is between your thighs, despite all of his tongues, the one on his face was the sexiest when it laps you up, something about your little hands in his hair, his broad shoulders spreading you wide, just did more to you. Like he was worshipping you. “I’m sorry I was so… mad at you… my feelings…”

“Your feelings this and that, tch, you’re so needy aren’t you?” You scowl right back, but his tongue is swiping up your slit now, before he leans up, and your mouth eagerly opens, you swallow both of your tastes, earning his satisfied smirk. “Since you’re so needy, I’ll clean you, get you ready for more, yes?”

“Please, my King.” He is between your thighs again, lapping you up, shoving his tongue inside every bit of you, your cunt is pushing out all of his white ropes, which he greedily drinks. “Kuna!”

“Stupid name.” He huffs, tongue flicking your sensitive clit, he spreads your puffy lips wide, watching the little thing twitch with an amused smirk. “We taste so fucking perfect together, you know that?”

“We do… ah! Sensitive!” He’s grinning, sharp teeth against you as he exposes your clit, flicking his tongue over and over, while two of hands grip your hips, dragging you on his mouth. Your hips try to back off but he doesn’t let them, until you’re cumming all over his face again, which he has buried against you, orgasm wrecking your mind and any resolve you ever had.

“How many loads can you take in this tummy, hmm?” He looks up, face coated in your arousal, one hand pressing on your tummy now.

“As many as you want to give me.” Your words destroy him, to hear them from you? It’s like the dreams he’s been cursed with for weeks.

“Good bunny.” You eat it up, the praise, the way he looks at you when he is back to fucking your now sore pussy, his other cock stroking your clit, making you feel so much, too much, wh. “Good, good bunny. Take it all, greedy f’me aren’t you?”

You do, you take all of him somehow, you can’t figure it out, how she stretches to accommodate his length, his thickness, but she does. Your body is begging for more, your eyes glazed with pleasure, as his cock slams into your womb, filling you so deep you swear he’s fucking up your insides, and your cunt keeps greedily milking him, taking everything he’s got.

Sukuna flips you so suddenly you’re breathless again, climbing on top of you, two slick fingers slipping in your little untouched hole again, while he fucks you with one cock, his other arms wrapping your waist. His breath is against your ear while you’re crying out at the stretch, still pushing out remnants of his cum from earlier, dripping with your cum down his red blankets.

“Ready for me to cum in both your holes?” He murmurs, one hand cupping your face, turning you towards him you nod weakly, craving him, he moans into your mouth, tongues sloppy as they play, and he slips his other cock into that hole now.

“Kuna, too much… too big…” You’re crying out when he enters you, both cocks now, just their tips then a little further.

“Relax, bunny. You’re all mine, aren’t you?” You nod weakly, and it starts feeling so good, when he puts you on your knees, your ass arches for him, which he’s gripping brutally, spreading you wider. “Look at you, both your slutty holes begging for me.”

You can’t speak anymore, already weak from the orgasms, now he’s never even softened you don’t think, his cocks full of blood, when he sinks them further, you’re gripping the blankets, head buried, muffling your cries. He’s fucking both of your holes steadily, not going fully in, he’s maybe a few inches, but it’s so good, you’re so full of Sukuna.

“Feel me everywhere, you’re mine, all of you.” One of his hands entangles in your hair, messy already, as he feels both of your holes clenching him, your cunt is soaking wet, your ass so tight it’s strangling his cock, all while his balls are smacking your clit. “Hear it?”

“Y-yes…” You do hear it, the smacking of skin, the wetness of your cunt, making your ass arching up for more.

“Perfect f’me, fuck I missed you.” You tremble under him now, trying to turn your weak neck to look up at him, and he’s bending over you, big body taking you completely over, sinking deeper and deeper. “Yes, brat, I d-did.”

“Love you, Kuna.” You whisper, instead of yelling at you, he moans, kissing your mouth, a hand choking your throat, taking your oxygen while he takes you over, cocks moving easier and easier.

“Cum all over me, lemme feel it, you can do it hmm, my Queen?” At those words you’re ended, to hear how he professes them, you begin climaxing, ass clenching one cock while your pussy drools over his other, he has to pause, you feel so fucking good all around him.

“Kuna!” Your stupid nickname ruins him, as does how tight you’re gripping him, when he sees your pretty face all fucked out.

“Ready for me to fill you so full you can’t walk or run that mouth?” He huffs, you nod eagerly, and he’s pouring his seed in both your holes, the sensations just prolonging your orgasm. Sukuna’s grip tightens as he cums so hard, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, leaving a bruise, you love it, love the sting, love the way he marks you, the way he feels.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, his cocks still buried deep, your pussy and ass spasming around them, catching your breath now, as is your King. His eyes are closed, his breathing ragged, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen, not one bit, keeping you pinned, keeping you full.

“You’re mine, stupid little bunny.” He whispers, his voice hoarse, his teeth sinking into the back of your shoulder now.

“Yours.” You whisper back, your voice trembling with satisfaction, your heart fluttering at the possessiveness in his tone.

He pulls out slowly, a gush of cum following him, painting your thighs, your holes, all over until it’s a dripping mess, the wet spot under you growing, mixing with your sweat soaked bodies. He turns you, cupping your face and hovering over you, watching your breasts rise and fall, spreading your thighs and smirking at all the cum oozing from your holes.

“You called me… your Queen.” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.

“Tch, that is what you are? Foolish brat.”

“I enjoyed that.” He smirks now, leaning down to hover over you, studying a face that’s become far too important too fast.

“Did you now?”

“I did. Thank you for… not telling me to stop saying it.” You manage, emotions in your throat, you don’t expect him to ever say it back, and that hurts, but you feel so connected then, in the quiet night under him.

“It’s foolish but I tire of your frown, that upsets me. With annoyance.” He covers up the truth, that your sad face breaks him.

You smile almost knowingly, as if you can read him so well. “My King, may I start the training finally, tomorrow?”

“You’re still set on that, huh?” You nod. “Fine, I’ll do whatever you wish, as long as you…”

“Smile?”

“That.” You do so then, brightening your face, making his stomach flip, he hates that you control him this way, still wondering just what powers or spells you’ve put on him. “Better.”

Soon you’re snuggled up to him after being cleaned up, bare against his naked frame under the heavy covers, Sukuna loves even your little cold hands and cold feet, but he sure wouldn’t be letting you know. “Warm them up, now you pest.”

“We’ve been through this, I need you to do that.” He scoffs, pulling you against his chest, one hand brushing your hair back soothingly, as you yawn. “I missed this, you holding me.”

“Shut it, brat.” You smile as you nuzzle him, and soon you fall asleep, while Sukuna stares up at the ceiling, the one painted with ancient wars, wars he’s participated in, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to live without you.

How annoying you are.

*****

“Sore, bunny?” Sukuna teases the next day, as you begin training, you glare at him now. “What?”

“You know I am.” You hiss, considering he’d fucked you twice last night, you’re sore in places also you can’t even explain, in ways that make your cheeks heat up while you walk.

“Weak little human.” He taunts, you hold your hands up then, focusing as he’s been showing you for hours. “Gonna do something, bunny?”

You glare when he taunts you, and then gasp as he begins to cleave several trees in half. “Holy…”

“This is why we needed to be outside.” He’s smirking sadistically, so very proud of his powers, you roll your eyes. “Try to stop me, bunny, close your eyes, don’t get distracted.”

You concentrate, feeling your own energy fill you, shutting your eyes, and positioning your hands just so, until you hear a grunt. You open them, realizing you’ve completely locked Sukuna’s arm up, he’s grinning though, nodding at you, and you use the energy to slam him into the ground.

“Fuck…” He’s huffing, you gasp now, running to him, letting your energy fall, only for him to drag you on him, laughing. “You are a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Yes, a witch. Dropping me to my fucking knees, making me stupid for you, haunting my dreams.”

“Your dreams?” You whisper, hair falling to the side, brushing his broad shoulders over his bare chest as he holds you on him, his head on the grass below. Trees are decaying, grass is withering, all from him, but you think it’s beautiful, the destruction he’s brought.

“All of you, endlessly irritating.” You smile then, realizing he cares just as much as you do, though he surely wouldn’t say that.

In his own way, this was it.

“Maybe I am bewitching you, one day you’ll fall in love with me.” He snorts, rolling all four eyes, shocking you when he has you flipped on your back, breathless.

“You wish, brat. Keep dreaming.”

*****

“Sukuna, you cannot leave me again. Please.” You’re pleading two weeks later, as he tells you he must leave for a few days again. “Take me with you, or send your damn armies.”

“A King must stand with them, you have me be a stupid bunny like you?”

“Stupid bunny!?” You use your energy then, crashing everything off the giant table with a clatter, earning his grin.

“You’re sexy when you’re using your flimsy little fucking powers.”

“Oh fuck you!” You stomp off then, but he’s got you in his arms before you can leave, holding you tightly. “Stop it. I’m angry.”

“You’re always angry, bunny really thinks she’s not just prey.” You shove at him now, knocking him back, only making him grin wider.

“Take me with you, please. I can help.” You see it then, the emotions in his gaze, he shakes his head at you. “You think I'm incapable?”

“Not at all, fuck you’re more capable than most of the dumb boys that fight for me.”

“Then why not?”

“Because I need you safe.” His roaring voice echoes in the dining hall now, he cups your face with rough hands. “I have to make sure you’re here, where I know no one can touch you.”

“I don’t want to be without you.” You feel tears streaming down your cheeks now, he swipes at them, the gnawing in his heart and soul growing with every moment he spends with you, with every look you give him. He can’t take it, all that he feels for you, building and building. “I feel sick.”

You rush out then, and he sighs, watching your retreating form when Uraume walks up. “Could you check on her? She’s angry again, little brat.”

Uraume nods, smiling just a bit, and soon finds you, throwing up. They blink in concern, coming up to you then, holding your hair, as you whimper miserably. “Has something upset your stomach, my Queen?”

“I didn’t even eat or drink, he’s got me s-so angry, Uraume. He doesn’t think I can help…” You’re sick again, and Sukuna is standing by your door, watching in concern as Uraume rubs your back.

“Something is wrong, when was your last monthly?” You blink then, rapidly, leaning on your knees, eyes catching Sukuna’s at the door.

“I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.” You touch your tummy then, smiling, and you see it, not a smirk or sadistic grin, it’s a beautiful smile from Ryomen Sukuna. “I am with child?”

“I’ll have the royal doctor examine you tomorrow. My King, perhaps we can put off the journey for a few days?” They ask, as they’re helping you clean up, you’re cleaning your teeth, even the water you drink after making your tummy hurt.

“For a few days then. Leave us for a moment, please.” Soon Sukuna picks you up carefully, in his arms, cradling you to his chest. Your arms wrap his neck, as you caress his face, so much unspoken between you both, you just study each other, breathless. “You’re carrying my heir?”

“I hope so, Kuna.” You admit, while he sits on the bed, still holding you across his massive lap with two arms, the others, brushing back your hair. “I want to have many heirs for you, I promise I will be a good mother, and a good queen.”

“I already know that, foolish girl. God help me if they’re stubborn like you.” Your eyes narrow, earning his laughter.

“I hope it will be a son for you.”

Sukuna hopes it’s a girl, one just like you, but he doesn’t say that, he shouldn’t say that, he’s a King after all, he needs male heirs. But as one hand rests on your still flat tummy, he pictures it, many children with you, emotions making his heart race faster and faster.

“You cannot come if you are, you know this, don’t be so stubborn.” You sigh, looking up at him.

“I know that. I can’t risk something happening.”

“Finally you see reason, pregnancy becomes you. Don’t glare at me, brat, come on now.” He pulls you against him you rest your head on his chest, nausea easing then as his energy consumes you both, surrounding you. “This baby, with both of our powers, will be a menace.”

“He will be sweet like me, thank you.” Sukuna smirks.

“We’ll see.”

*****

After confirming you were indeed pregnant, Sukuna put his journey off a few days, and he surprises you even when he’s gone, he has an entire nursery made by his servants, it makes no sense to this early but he’s so sure about it. All of his concubines also have disappeared, you’re not really sure where they went, and the servants pamper you.

But you miss him. When he does return weeks later, you’re curled up in his throne asleep, breaking his heart, he’s covered in grime and sweat from his trek, you look so fragile and tiny to him. He’s been consumed again by dreams of you, of fears of something happening to you, to the baby, so to see you so peaceful allows him to breathe for just a moment.

Sukuna gets down on one knee, kneeling for his sleeping queen, so beautiful in front of him, caressing your face carefully, brushing your hair off it where it’s fallen. You snuggle against his big hand, brows together, he notices your hand is on your tummy over your robes, he places his other hand there as you’re mumbling then.

“Kuna… miss you… love you…” You’re babbling, head shifting, your brows knitting together, and he exhales, leaning close, the words that have been stirring since he met you ready to spill.

“I love you, bunny. Infuriating, annoying, silly, stubborn brat.” His whisper is so quiet, and you’re still asleep, he exhales in relief that you don’t hear him yet, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so foolish.”

You come to then, seeing him and your eyes widening, before they glimmer in tears and you smile so big at him. “You’re home!”

Home, the castle never really felt like a home until you, did it?

“I’m here, why are you sleeping on my throne?” He demands, you blush then in the night, shifting to sit up, looking into his glinting ruby eyes.

“I feel so close to you here.” You admit softly.

“I need to bathe, you’ll wash me hmm?”

“Yes, Kuna.”

You’re both in the onsen, it reminds you of the first time you were taken by him, memories in every bit of the steamy room, as you start cleaning him, sitting on the edge, your legs draped in the water. You frown as you find new scars have formed, although he heals quickly, these must have been deep. You tense as you trail your washcloth across his shoulders.

“They’re just scratches, bunny. Calm down.” He says, feeling it, your worry behind him. He can feel every bit of you, even when he’s gone, he turns then, seeing your beautiful body, smiling as he sees a little roundness of your tummy. “Look at you… this body, fuck…”

“It’s showing a little.” You smile, touching it now, Sukuna leans down, pressing a kiss against it, your hands stroking his hair, feeling it slick under your fingers.

“I need you, bunny. Now.” He tugs you in the water now, you gasp as he pulls you against him, tongue on his stomach thick and wet as it laps at you between your thighs. Your head falls back for his brutal kisses, his rough bites. “Your marks have faded, need new ones huh?”

“Need them everywhere, Kuna.” Sukuna realizes you didn’t hear him earlier, because you would have been boasting about his confession if you did, but you still seem to just know, infuriating in your ability to assess him completely. “What is it, my King?”

He’s looking at you this certain way, opening and closing his lips, you wonder then what he wants to say, but holds back. Your heart is racing as you cling to him, but he kisses you instead, muffling your cries while his tongue works your cunt over and over, sliding inside you, preparing you for him.

“Miss your taste.” He huffs, lips parted, little droplets falling from his lashes. “Missed your annoyance.”

“You missed me, hmm?” You’re grinning, he’s scowling, it’s what you both seem to do, but you love it, love when you’re stretched by his cock and pressed against the wall of the bath, water undulating around you.

“Do you ever shut up?” Your giggles turn into cries soon of pleasure, as his cock drags on your walls, and she’s tightening around him.

“Kiss me.” He does as you demand, desperate and hungry, four arms taking over every bit of your body as he destroys your mind, biting your lips until they’re swollen, sinking deeper into your welcoming cavern, so warm and wet for him.

“I love you, brat.” You gasp now, blinking rapidly as you stare at him. “I won’t say this nonsense again, got it?”

“You love me!? Ah!” Sukuna shoves his cock hard in you now, you’re trying to register his words, as he fucks all sense out of your mind.

“I’ll not repeat it. You know it, yes brat?” He cups your face, gripping your chin, as your heart races, you’re trying to form a coherent word, wondering if you’re dreaming. “Your King asked you a question.”

“You l-love me?”

“Tch.” He pulls out of you, making you whine. “You’re too cock drunk to focus, aren’t you? I said I’ll not repeat myself.”

“You love me too?” You’re laid down on the towels once more, he’s hovering over you with two arms, the others gripping your face.

“Yes, you’ve cast whatever spell, evil bunny. Do you know now?” You’re sobbing, but you’re smiling, confusing the shit out of him. “Are you sad or happy, fuck!?”

“So happy, so happy. I love you and our baby so much, my King.” He rolls his eyes, scoffing, but your words melt him.

“Enough of that. Now.” He sinks back inside your cunt, moaning as he feels your wet heat after weeks of not having it. “Need to feel you cumming for me.”

*****

Your arranged marriage with Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, was by far and away the best thing that happened to you. You’ve already had your first child now, a son named after his father, but Sukuna is determined to have more and more of them. When you feel insecure, he scoffs and demands you stop, before his tongues and hands worship your body.

He doesn’t profess his feelings too often, but sometimes when he thinks you’re sleeping, he’ll caress your cheek and whisper ‘I love you, bunny’ thinking you don’t hear him. And every so often when he cums, he cries out in your ear just so, you hear some jumbled ‘fucking love you’ before he catches himself.

He was still a force to be entranced by anyone, but he is soft with his wife, you, his Queen, he’s soft with his son, when he thinks no one sees. Sukuna is a conundrum, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to his duality, brutally dominating the world one moment, and the next he’s sweetly kissing your baby’s forehead, or caressing your face softly.

Now, having recovered from having the baby, Sukuna has you on his lap during his meetings with the council often, however this time, your devious husband has his cock inside of you, under your robes. Your cunt is gushing all around him as you try to maintain your composure, and he’s delighting in it, laugh soft in your ear, tickling you as you throb.

“Stay still now bunny, they’ll know what a slut their Queen is for her King’s cocks, hmm?” He taunts, you glare at him, only serving to make him jerk his hips up just so, your eyes roll back in your skull, being stretched like this on him.

“Y-you’re the worst, K-Kuna.” You whisper back, he chuckles again, two of those huge tattooed hands pressing your hips down, stuffing his full length inside you, his tip drooling against your cervix.

“I’ll put two babies in your womb this time. Need twins.” His words end you, the council are speaking now, and you’re trying so hard not to scream out, his other cock his pressing against your clit, you’re gushing down his muscled thighs, his veiny length, feeling so fucking good you can’t take it.

“Your Majesty, we-”

“No, I’m busy.” Sukuna fucking flings his subjects, you’d normally get on him about his antics, but you can’t speak when his cock is buried so deep. He rests his chin on one hand lazily, as the other people speak, and he keeps you still, warming his cock as the other drizzles precum on your belly.

“Kuna, please…” You whisper now, and he feels you tightening, scowling up as you make him sensitive.

“You brat, you mean to tease me?” You bat your lashes innocently.

“No, my King.”

“Keep going and they’ll have their next heir right here.” He hisses, serving to make your heart race, your cunt dripping all over, he sinks a hand under your robes, his tongue from his hand lapping it up, as you bite your lip, stifling your cries. “Want them to watch me fuck another in you?”

“N-no, sadistic ass.” He glares right back, someone is saying something, but the two of you are too consumed in each other to notice.

“Stay still, brat, and I’ll let you ride me right here when we’re done, if you don’t I won’t wait, you’ll have a royal audience.”

You make it through the meeting, just barely, and soon he’s got your robes parted, and you’re straddling him on his throne, taking both of his cocks, riding him, your hands braced on his strong shoulders. He’s sucking on your nipples as your breasts bounce in his face, letting you control the pace, letting you ride him, he won’t tell you but he loves it when you do.

“Going to keep you pregnant, brat.” He huffs, wrecking you with his words, you swear you hear an I love you when he’s cumming so deep, but you let him think you don’t.

“Love you, Kuna.” You murmur, it makes him melt, but he just glares.

“You can still talk, huh bunny? Need to fix that.”If Sukuna is a little softer these days, he has only his very bratty bride to blame, you.

A/N- aww this was so fun, I loved writing this fun little mini series here. It was fluffy and filthy and I enjoyed making Sukuna soft, idk idk lol!. Ty for the love on this little thing!? Ya'll I'm hooked on Sukuna fr lol (already wrote modern Sukuna nowww) so plenty more to come.

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[smilesatdawnmain]

ETERNAL LMK AU (Part 7) (Interactive Story)

Tug a war!!

The rules are simple.: I will give the written passage, and then at the bottom there will be a vote on how the characters act next!

Story: Eternal Au

Ships: Shadow Peach

The string burned in his grasp. The feeling of heat, for a being without physical form, was disorienting. Despite the sensation, Macaque powered through and pressed his heels into the ground. As a soul, a ghost, his abilities on this plane were now restricted.

However, if he knew anything about Soul mates, there was a high chance there was at least one thing he could still have a semblance of control over. The connection between their souls. If it could pull him around- it could pull Wukong around!!  

Digging his heels downward, anger surged in him. He heaved with all his might, feeling the string grow taut, sharply coiling up and against Wukong’s own chest. The King gagged when his leisure flight was pulled short, frozen in mid air as he felt something sharp tugging him back. 

He spun around, his eyes scanning the area for whatever had grabbed him. But there was nothing there, and when he checked his chest, there was no physical force holding him in place. "What is going on?" he twisted and turned, trying to shake off the strange sensation.

Macaque struggled and wrestled with Wukong, as if trying to wrangle a raging bull. "You infuriate me!" He shouted at Wukong in frustration. How could this man have such a strong hold on him? How could he be his soulmate? How dare he hurt him- leave him- kill him!!

“Let go of me!” Macaque wailed, “Move on from me! Fuck you! I hate you!

 The idea of being stuck, forced to follow close behind as Wukong went about his day to day. It was disheartening- infuriating even, watching Wukong live in peace in their home when it was his fault in the first place that things were like this. How dare Wukong return here after everything he did! After everything Macaque went through to ensure this place was okay after he left. 

"You're pathetic. You're awful! You never listen to anyone. You act impulsively and then act so pitiful when you get in trouble for it. But you never learn from the impulsive things you do!" Macaque barked. Seething, he felt his own ears flicker and glow. 

The two Diyu collectors stepped back, eyes wide when they realized what he was about to do. With a feral roar, he yanked back the string with every ounce of strength in his tormented soul, determined to unleash all of his pent-up rage and fury upon them

Wukong's screams are cut short as he is violently ripped from his cloud, plummeting towards the unforgiving earth below. In a matter of seconds, he slams into the ground with bone-crunching force, sending shockwaves of agony through his entire body. “Gah!”

Macaque's rage burned hot as he yanked on the golden thread with all his might, forcing the still writhing Wukong upward, eyes wide and dazed. "You selfish, arrogant bastard!" he snarled, pouring years of pent-up frustration and hurt into each vicious tug. "You left me behind! You chose that human over me! And now you have the audacity to keep me tethered to you?!"

With each pull, Wukong jerked in the air, bewildered by the invisible force yanking him about. His golden eyes darted around frantically, searching for the source.

Wukong flailed in the air, gasping as he was yanked about by an unseen force. His golden eyes widened in panic and confusion as he searched frantically for the source, eyeing flickering gold to seek the forces that was doing this. He bodily twisted and turn, unknowingly fighting Macaque’s tugging.

“Uh…” The Diyu collectors shrunk a little, pale and glancing at one another. “We should… uh- we should go,” they concluded.

Macaque turned to them sharply, “What??” he hissed. "Hey! You can't just leave!" Macaque barked at them, unable to follow due to the basic "Leash" around his waist, which only let him get so far from Wukong as he was tugging it. So he dropped it for just a moment, leaving Wukong to be confused.

They sheepishly shrug, having no intention of sticking around if Wukong was on the alert for them. Their powers and glamors would only keep them hidden for so long at this rate. Honestly, they had no doubt with enough patience, Wukong might even just see his mate- maybe even touch him him as they were soul mates, which was unheard of, but hey, Wukong had done the impossible before, "Well technically we can. We have no idea how long this might take. We got other souls we gotta check on to see what is holding them up." a scroll formed between their fingers, a long list of names written up on it. They had been eager to snag the soul of Sun Wukong’s mate, but they would have to cut their loses. They couldn’t take him if he had the tether. "We'll just mark you down as "In the process, needs closure" and we'll check in when we have the time. We'll sense when you are released from that tether so don't worry, we'll come get ya."

Macaque's face contorted in fury as the Diyu collectors began to fade away. How dare they-! All this and they wouldn’t even- well, not like he wanted to go with them, but stilL! "You can't just leave me here!" he snarled, lunging towards them. But his efforts were futile - his hands passed right through their dissolving forms.

"Sorry, pal," one of them called, their voice echoing as they disappeared. "Duty calls. We'll be back...eventually. Try to find closure or whatever in the meantime!"

And then they were gone, leaving Macaque alone with the thrashing Wukong. The Moon Monkey let out a roar of frustration, his fists clenching at his sides. The injustice of it all burned in his chest like molten lava.

Wukong was still dazed from the sudden pull that had yanked him out of the sky. As he struggled to stand, he tugged at the string between them, not realizing that it had tangled and shortened their distance.

Macaque let out a surprised yelp as he was tugged forward and lost his balance. The two of them struggled for a few moments, each trying to regain control of their own footing. To onlookers, it may have appeared as if Wukong was fighting against an invisible force. In reality, it was two souls unknowingly battling against the other's grip, connected by an unbreakable string.

“Let me go!” Macaque growled. Could Wukong even do that? Did either of them have the power to break the connection of a soul mate??

…Soul mate…

He was Wukong’s soul mate. It brought tears to his eyes, as much as he wished it didn’t. It hurt. Wukong was meant to be his, and in return, he was meant to be Wukong’s, so how did this happen?

He stumbled closer to Wukong, using the string to draw himself nearer. “Idiot… Idiot..I was yours. I was your Moon…!” he sobbed

As Macaque stood before the King, he watched as the ruler searched and searched in vain. Little did the King know that his beloved Moon was right in front of his face. In that moment, Macaque resigned himself to never being seen by Wukong again. He stopped pulling, stopped fighting, stopped trying.

This was his life now, wasn’t it?

His punishment.

Did he want Wukong to see him? Did he not...? Even if Wukong could see or hear him, what would it change?

Previous

Next:

[thescarletnargacuga]

OOOH CARNIVAL FICS?

Boy, I have a thing for you!

I've recently fallen in love with the song "Kiss me (Kill me)," and it gave me an idea.

You know when sm-baby mentioned how Pomni may be the final boss? Well... Pomni loses control after Caine beating Kinger's level, it results in a battle between Caine... And Pomni...

Towards the very end her sentience returns for a brief moment to aid him.

But... Results in her tragic end.

Leaving Caine heartbroken.

- Fowl Anon

A/N: how devastating...

GAME OVER

A TRAGIC CARNIVAL AU SHOWTIME ONESHOT

Carnival AU credit: @sm-baby

WARNING: HEAVY angst, hurt/some comfort, digital violence, main character death, non-sentient Pomni

~~~

The King fell from his throne with a heavy thud. It was over. It was finally over. Caine stood shakily next to the dethroned King boss. Pomni was hiding in the curtains that separated the room from the main hallway. A heavy silence filled the room as they processed what they had just done.

Caine was still trying to catch his breath when he looked around for Pomni, seeing her peak from her hiding spot.

"...you did it." She said in quiet astonishment as she stepped out into the open. A wide smile slowly grew. "You did it!" She cheered as she ran to Caine, arms open.

Caine barely registered in time she was going to hug him before impact. "Oof! Ha...yeah...I guess I did." He side eyes Kinger as he embraces Pomni. Something still felt off. He couldn't figure what was bothering him in the back of his mind, but it felt like a memory trying to make its way through the blackout.

Pomni's smile faltered. A faint green glow circled her irises before being blinked away. She couldn't move.

"What..? Oh, come on! Not again!" Sentient Pomni groaned inside her own head.

Pomni whispered to Caine. "Well done, player. Your final reward awaits you in the Circus." She gave him a seductive smirk as she pulled him towards the curtains by the hand.

"Uuugh...you know, I don't need you to keep flirting with him. We're already sorta...uh, actually, I don't know what we are-"

Caine blushed. Being completely distracted by the look in her face, he misses her calling him Player. "Of- of course, Pomni, but I feel I should tell you that I don't really care about the award. Whatever it is. I'm just happy your friends are free of the madness."

"Trust me, you'll enjoy this." Pomni stepped back into the darkness beyond the curtains. A look of mischievous glee on her face.

Sentient Pomni didn't know what the program was talking about. There was nothing past Kinger. HE was the final boss. The game credits should be rolling or something. Where were the ending cutscenes? Why did everything still feel the same?

Caine's mind raced, trying to figure out what she was talking about. He stopped himself before it went places that would defy the game's E rating and followed Pomni into the loading screen for the hallway.

Some things are too good to be true...

Caine took a deep breath, happy to be out of the Kings court, but a sense of bittersweetness hit him. He's done. He and Able can leave... but what about Pomni? She can't leave. Maybe he could come back? Maybe the game would work properly now that everyone's madness has been corrected? He squeezed his teeth shut at the overwhelming thoughts.

He needed to talk this through with her, he knew that much. They've grown close. He cares for her. He didn't want to just leave. "Pomni- ...Pomni?" He opened his teeth to find himself alone in the hallway. "Maybe she's taking longer to load in?" He waited. She never came.

Band organ music came from the far end of the cavernous hall, playing a showtime tune. It eerily echoed to Caine like a circus siren's call. Caine followed the music cautiously. "Pomni..?" It came from behind Pomni's door, light shining from beneath. With no other options on what to do, he opened the door and stepped through.

Welcome to the show

Caine entered the tent to applause, lively music playing and spotlights flashing around the unseen audience. He hasn't seen the circus so lively since his performance in level one.

Around the center ring were figures Caine couldn't quite make out, the bright spotlights blinded him with every pass. He got closer. The figure nearest him was moving erratically.

"Caine!! Caine, it's a tra-mmph!!" Able tried to warn his brother, only to be silenced by a dancer's ribbon wrapping his cards together.

The lights stopped. The music stopped. A single spotlight came on over a figure on the high tightrope. "Tsk...tsk...why must you spoil the surprise?" A high feminine laugh fills the big top.

More lights come on over the restrained figures around the center ring. Ragatha. Gangle. Jax. Zooble. Kinger. All bound in chains along with Able.

"Pomni!? What's going on??" Caine was mortified, seeing the malicious grin on her face. His head hurt. The foreign memory feels closer.

"Congratulations, Player. You've defeated everyone who stood in my way. Now, this is MY Carnival! MY SHOW! And you..." She chuckles darkly. "...are no longer required."

"CAINE! I'M SORRY! I CAN'T STOP THIS!" Sentient Pomni screamed from inside, fighting back as hard as she could.

"The secret boss..." Caine said to himself. "You....no..." It was in the game files he read before he ever entered to find his brother. Information that was stored in Bubble, but never knew the true identity of the boss. Only that they existed. "Pomni, don't do this!" He pleaded.

"WELCOME TO YOUR GRAND FINALE!!" Pomni raised her arms and the circus became vibrate neon. Every color was an attack on the senses. Loud music blared. NPC circus performers and toy-like life sized animals emerged from backstage. It was a flurry of movement that disoriented Caine.

A massive health bar, one ever larger than Kinger's, appeared in Caine's lower field of vision. She was not Pomni. She was THE JESTER.

An elephant with performers atop it rampaged at Caine. He dove out of the way just in time. He looked back up at the tightrope. The Jester was gone. He has to keep moving. Every step he took, another performer was attacking him. "POMNI! STOP! I DON'T WANT TO FIGHT YOU!!"

Multiple confetti canons aimed and fired. Caine's preacticed reflexes kept him clear of each shot as he searched for Pomni in the chaos. He dodged flying balls and colorful performing horses. He didn't see the arial silk performers swinging at him, and he was struck in the chest.

Caine rolled across the circus floor, slamming into one of the poles supporting the tightrope. He struggles to get to his feet, winded from the hit. Someone stood before him, he looked up to see the Jester glaring down at him. She grabbed his collar and pulled him to his feet with unknown strength.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please, don't hurt him!" Sentient Pomni begged.

"Then take your final bow, Player. Because everything ends here." She threw him away from her in time for a trapeze to swing low and knock him to the far side of the circus.

Caine lost a whole third of his health. Tears brimmed his eyes. This was too much. Everything was happening at once. He wasn't ready for this.

He tried to run for the door.

He slammed into it as it refused to budge.

"Nuh-uh-uh, Player." The Jester giggled. "There is no escaping me." She sent a flurry of streamers to entangle her prey.

Caine moved quickly from the door, outrunning the streamers as they reached for him.

Pomni grunted in frustration. "Stop moving!" She pointed to Caine, confetti canons ready to fire.

Caine ran around until he stood between the Jester and a canon. "I'm sorry..." He dove out of the way in time for a shot of violent confetti to smack the Jester off her feet.

"Ah!" Sentient Pomni screeched from the hit. She could still feel everything happening to her body.

The damage to the boss Jester was minimal, but Caine felt a rock in his stomach having to hurt her. Tears made it hard to focus. "I'm sorry!" He ran for a trapeze pole to get away from the chaotic movement on the ground.

The Jester wiped her lip, cackling. "Yes, Player! Fight back! Give the audience a show they'll never forget!"She raised her arm and a swinging performer grabbed her to move her up.

Caine found himself where this all started; on a small platform, high above the circus, Pomni opposing him, but instead of performing together...he was meant to defeat her. His chest felt tight. "Pomni! I know you're in there! It doesn't have to be this way! There's always a choice!"

Sentient Pomni cried from inside her prison. "Not this time..."

The Jester grinned. "Win or lose. That is your choice, Player."

Caine looked down at his brother. Able was still bound, desperately fighting the restraints.

Defeat the Jester, and he and Able are free.

Die, and Able and the others live in the Jester's world forever.

Caine clenched his fists. He glares at the Jester with mournful anger. "I'll find a way! I'm not finishing this without Pomni!"

The Jester let out a shrill laugh. "Then you are a greater fool than you seem!" She leapt from her platform to grab a trapeze. The audience cheered as the Jester did a flip to the next trapeze to get closer to Caine.

An idea came to him. He grabbed the trapeze hooked to his side and swung. The Jester spun midair to catch another swinging trapeze when Caine came up high and clothes lined her with his leg.

"Ack-!" The Jester was struck in the neck and missed the bar. She was caught by another passing aerialist.

The crowd booed and a good chunk of the Jester's health bar went down.

"Goodness, that worked!?" Caine gasped as he landed on a platform.

Sentient Pomni groans, instinctually rubbing her neck. Then she suddenly felt less restricted. "Huh?"

Green and blue pixels distorted the Jester's eyes, she shook it off. "ARGH!" The Jester growled, kicked the NPC off of her and swung herself at Caine.

Caine dove for a passing silk and arched with it at the oncoming Jester. He twisted his silk with hers, preventing her from doing anything impressive.

The crowd booed harder.

"NO!!" The Jester snarled, trying to get her silk swinging again. Her health went down more. "NO!! MY PERFORMANCE WILL NOT BE RUINED!!" She jumped from the silk to a passing elephant, doing a handstand. She got a few cheers and her health increased some.

Sentient Pomni slammed herself against the borders of her mind. With each hit she felt movement in her own fingers again. "You can't hold me! I'll make sure you fail!" One more good try and her arms glitched out on the hand stand, dropping the Jester on her face.

Caine saw the glitches. "Pomni!! Keep fighting!" He swung himself to trapeze and gained some speed to fly kick at the Jester.

The Jester sat up on the elephant in time to see a boot flying at her face. She tried to duck, but she glitched back up.

BAM!!

The Jester fell backwards off the elephant to the dusty floor outside the ring. The Jester glitched and pixelated severely. Health dropping, Pomni fought hard for control. "Caine! Please!! End this- NO! I will have what is due! I am the Ringmaster now- CAINE!!" Pomni the Jester's eyes flashed between blue and green. Glitches distort their appearance and voice.

Caine had landed nearby and watched the horrific ordeal Pomni was facing. "Pomni, I can't! You- I don't want to defeat you! Regain control!"

"She's too- YOU WILL NOT STOP ME!!" The Jester got up faster than Caine could react. Her eyes blazed green as she shoved Caine over the edge of the ring. He fell backwards into the path of the stampeding animals and performers. "NOOO!!"

Caine was trampled by zebras and clowns on pogo sticks. He crawled as far as he could out of the way but took serious damage. His health was in the red. He planted as he crawled for the pole ladder. He glared back at the Jester. "You want me? ...come and get me."

"Caine! Don't!" Pomni fought the Jester as she grabbed a circling performer to the other pole connecting the high tightrope. Glitches made her slip every few rungs, but the Jester determinedly climbed in her single minded agenda to end this.

Caine met the Jester's glare across the wire. The audience below awed at the spectacle of the two performers making their way toward the middle. Caine focused hard to keep balance. He has a plan.

When the Jester was far enough from her platform, he pirouetted, making the wire wobble. This got him applause and thwarted the Jester's attempts at a stunt. The Jester's health fell to critical and she glitched hard. She fell on the wire and koala clung to it.

Caine moved closer, ready to grab at her. "Fight her, Pomni! You can do it!"

Pomni fought with all her might, but it wasn't enough. Whatever restrictions were on the program that allowed her to maintain control were gone. The Jester was here to stay. "I-I- can't!" Pomni glitched again as the Jester fought back. She slid, hanging on the wire with only her hands.

Caine dropped on the wire and grabbed her arm. "I believe in you, Pomni! Please! I've got you!"

The failed wire stunts made the crowd angry. They booed and hissed at the "poor" performance, making the Jester screech and glitch. Her hands slipped off the wire.

Caine gripped her wrist as hard as he could. "Pomni!!"

Pomni held tight as she saw the chaos below. Then Abel. Her friends. This was bigger than her. This ended with her, one way or another. She looked back at Caine, sorrow in her eyes. "Let me go..."

"WHAT!? No! You're going to win this!"

"She's too powerful. This won't stop until it's over. It's the only way you'll get home."

"It can't be the only way! Don't let go!" He pleaded as he felt her slipping.

Pomni gave him a sad smile. "I love you, Caine Alexander Eden..." She let go of his wrist.

"POMNI!!!" He cried out as her hand slid through his grasp.

Pomni closed her eyes as she fell to the circus floor. Caine lost sight of her in the crowd of performers and made his way to the nearest platform to climb down.

A hush fell over the tent as the performers vanished. The music stopped. The colors muted. The audience went silent. The chains binding Able and the others broke.

Pomni was revealed lying face up in the center of the circus, as though she only fell asleep. Caine rushed to her, fell to his knees and held her to his chest. "Pomni? Pomni, please." He gently brushed the hair from her face. He shook with grief. This couldn't be how things were supposed to end.

He held her for a long while, part of him hoping she would just...wake up. He couldn't hold in the sorrow that washed over him. He wailed as he held her against him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Pomni, I'm sorry!" He hiccupped as he sobbed against her face. "I love you too...I always have...I'm sorry I was too much of a coward to tell you..."

Able kneeled next to Caine. There was nothing he could say that would make the situation better in the slightest. He sat with Caine just to be there for him. The others didn't crowd, but they were mournfully silent in solidarity.

Bubble popped in, gently leaning against Caine's shoulder. His abilities calm Caine's heart rate.

Caine felt Pomni get lighter in his arms. He sat up with a gasp, a split second of hope in his heart that she was getting up. Instead, her body turned to wisps of glitter. She fell apart in his hands and flew to create a doorway in front of him.

The glitter solidified and became a bright red door with the word exit printed on it. Caine sat, mortified as the ending text appeared before him.

Thank you for playing the Amazing Digital Carnival!

[writingnekoo]

Odysseus' character analysis & how we overlook his trauma

Okay, this will be a long post about Odysseus and what could be happening in his head after his return to Ithaca because I really need to share these ideas <3

During the last few days I've been thinking about the whole Poseidon-obssesed-with-Odysseus concept (thanks to @rin-solo for inspiration :)), and that's how I recalled one headcanon of mine about Odysseus and his possible perception of his conflict with Poseidon.

A disclaimer first: I know that Epic is sometimes historically and culturally inaccurate, but! I want to include some of the cultural norms of ancient times because they will make things much more interesting.

So, since early August I've had an idea that Odysseus' personality during the post-Odyssey timeline would be heavily influenced by PTSD. That's just reasonable: the war takes its toll on the person anyway, especially on the warrior like Odysseus. He saw the nightmares of the Trojan War, lost his comrades and faced things that made him lose his sleep.

I actually like how Odysseus' trauma is depicted in Epic. We have these parts with the voices of Polites, Eurylochus and Anticlea and see just how much these losses affected Odysseus (take the ending of "Love in Paradise"). But instead of focusing on the losses like the musical does I'd rather talk about those who had caused them. It's a curious thing about the mentality of those who survived the war and similar events: their mind tends to demonize and hate those who caused pain deeply. It produces the ultimate hatred that is able to overcome any other feeling. This is the idea that I want to pursue in my Monster AU (might write about it later because that's another long talk) about the overwhelming feeling, produced by trauma, that can't be distinguished. And Odysseus is the only character in the story who has endured that twenty-year long nightmare: his comrades from the Trojan War didn't have the decade of journey back home behind their backs, and those who sailed with Odysseus died.

But there's one more layer to this scenario. While we've covered the idea about the war victim demonizing the aggressor, we can't forget that we're talking about the religious society of ancient times. Poseidon and Zeus are the two godly villains of Odysseus' story. However, they're also the god of the tides, who must've been one of the most widely worshiped in Ithaca (since it's an island... yeah), and the King of the gods.

That leaves Odysseus in an even more complex situation. Because he most likely highly respected both of them for his whole life. Eventually, they left Odysseus ruined. The people of Ithaca didn't stop worshipping them, and Odysseus has to follow the same religious rituals and celebrate annual festivities, which definitely reminds him of what had happened.

Once again, no one understands what he's gone through. Even Penelope and Telemachus, no matter how supportive they are. Thus, the trauma is left unseen and unhealed. Too bad there was no therapy in the ancient world, Odysseus would've needed it.

Finally, this whole set of reasons serves as a perfect background for deep and tragic obsession with those who hurt him and inability to let go of the past. Do the voices fall silent after Odysseus defeats all the enemies? No, they probably don't. Because even though physically Odysseus is already home, mentally, he's still fighting with the ghosts of his enemies. This is a desperate feeling that belongs to a broken man who no longer fits into society like he used to. And it eats him alive, kills him from the inside. No ruthlessness or bloodshed can help Odysseus to run from this despair. It fact, they might only make it worth by reminding who made him a monster! :)

Generally... this is pretty much it. The whole idea of all-consuming despair and trauma is what I've wanted to pursue here because I find it very natural in terms of everything that Odysseus has been through. I'd also like to analyze the whole Vengeance saga (especially my fav Six Hundred Strike) from this perspective because it actually makes perfect sense for me, but that's one more long post of another time lmao.