#and now his soul is trapped FOREVER

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

something about qbad mentioning how much horror he put red team thru every time purgatory gets brought up... something about how proud dapper was of him.

like this is just my late-night read but- it feels like guilt qbad is trying to twist into pride. he keeps needling away at it. “i killed them all, over and over and over again.” “they were hunted by a monster.”

it’s like- reassurance. like a nail he’s trying o beat into his head. he’s had SO much trouble with legitimately hurting his friends, despite making that vow all the way back when the eggs first went missing, despite all the tree talk and the promises to save the kids no matter what. He never faltered with elq, and that protected them. He keeps faltering now. Sometimes he doesnt remember the code, or cucurucho, or skeppy. But that doesnt matter, right? Because he’ll protect the eggs. He’ll be the monster. he is the monster. he can and he will protect them even as his seams start ripping and he keeps breaking further and further apart. even at his worst, he’ll do whatever he needs to protect the eggs.

he’ll be the monster. wont he?

[bravevolunteer]

thinking about michael between pizza sim and security breach having a conversation with old man consequences…

[azulhood]

Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.

Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.

The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.

[thedivinetarot]

Light of my life, fire of my loins, my sin, my soul [Pt.2]

Who is your future spouse?

☆ How to chose the perfect pile for you?

1) Close your eyes.

2) Clear your mind.

3) Take a deep breathe.

4) Ask the question in your head. And open your eyes. The pile you are drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Note:

- This is a general reading. So, please take what resonates with you.

- Please, Please and I will say it again PLEASE DO NOT think of anyone. Not your EX or crush or EVEN someone you are currently dating. This reading about your future spouse.

- Also the energy is not set in stone. So don't be surprised if your choice change after a period of time.

Lots of love

Arya

Pile 1 - Eternal kiss

Your current energy:

I see that this pile is feeling trapped and lacking something. Pile one I feel like you lack clarity regarding a situation in your life. I'm not really sure whether it is love, or work or even spirituality. I feel like this pile is paralyzed. They are trying to find clarity about something, but you can't even put your finger on. I feel like you are looking forward. You are between the past and the future. I think this pile have been dealing with something and when they found their clarity they are now ready to move on. I see that this pile are deciding whether to stay or leave this chapter and letting go of that situation. You've been trapped into that situation for a long period and now you are choosing to move on and close that chapter. You have succeeded in fighting the demons in your head. You have done the right work, you are taking care of everything. I salute you pile one. At the beginning of this reading, you were confused, paralyzed and you lack clarity but then you realized that the situation doesn't really deserve the energy you are pouring into it. I see that after you healed yourself and closed the chapter you finally received the blessings from the universe. This pile’s energy is sooo great! Guys I feel like the things you manifested are on the way. They are coming so soon especially if you are manifesting clarity or news regarding something. The universe is going to show it to you in the weirdest way. So, be open.

Who is your spouse (personality)

I see that this person is very defensive. To be honest if you are someone with high masculine energy this person is your opposite. He have a very feminine energy. He is nurturing, sweet and motherly. I see that this person is explosive. This might be something negative about him. Or he catastrophically; changes a lot. He might be pluto dominant or scorpio in his big three. I see cancer and Capricorn too, so take what resonates. People with pluto dominant changes a lot internally. I see also that this person is lazy? Or slow? I see that this perosn might be working in a bad job or he hates his job honestly. Like this job gives him a lot of money but he doesn't really like it since there’s a lot of pressure on him. This person like to work in groups or he is an extrovert. I see that he might be insecure physically OR possessive. Again I see that he is so wise and Intelligent. I see a lot of emotional maturity here. This person really loves to take care of people and help them. You see those men with mbti ENTJ or ENFJ 9w8 in movies? I'm picking up on someone like that. Also there's emphasis on the voice too, he might have loud tone. Very nurturing and sweet but manly at the same time. He might even help you balance your feminine and masculine energy. Oooh now I got it pile one! Maybe in the beginning of your relationship with him (the initial stages) you might think he is lazy, feminine and spoiled. But then he will truly show you WHO IS THE MAN at the end of the day. I see that he is the true gentleman that every lady dreams of. I see that despite his emotional side or nurturing side he knows how to take care of other stuff like work, finances and you wink wink ;). I see that once he commit to you; you'll be HIS forever. This person is not the "Oh it didn't work out goodbye" type of person. No he is "Let's work on it" type of person. He is so reliable. And stubborn omg pile 1 that's wonderful now let's look into his physical appearance.

His appearance

Well, I guess this person is naturally beautiful. He might have brown or dark brown hair with light or dark eyes, take what resonates. He has a very light to medium skin tune. Or even olive skin undertone. Also I see that he might be your type or he might be someone you are comfortable to date physically. You might feel comfortable or like how he looks. I see that his aura make you feel safe and cared for. You see that video on tiktok to a girl returning home late in the subway, she was anxious and scared and then she saw a guy with a calming and serene aura that his aura helped her to calm her anxiety down? He might be like this. I see that his weight is medium for his height to a little overweight or curve. I see light eyes also. Between hazel, green or even light brown.

Now, let's look into his finances.

His financial state

I see that in the beginning of his career. When he started earning good amount of money, people who dated him or people in his life used him for his money. But now I see that he matured honestly. I see that his financial state is very good. Like he might earn above the average person and he is very smart dealing with his finances. You see I feel like he gives off daddy vibes. He might spoil you rotten. Like if you were someone who dated dusties he will come in and swap you off the ground and show you how a real man treat his baby girl. I see that financially, he is so generous and giving. Especially for people who he care for. Like if he cared for you or if you want to know that he truly appreciate your presence he will pay for everything that's what I'm seeing. I see also the energy of someone practical. Very practical guys.

So, when will he come into your life?

I got 2,6,7. So after 2 or 6 or 7 months, again take what resonates this is different for everyone. July and November coming in strongly. You guys might meet in those months or this person is born in one of these months. Guys I see that he might be someone you already know. He is not giving any Ex vibe no I'm not seeing that. This might be someone you have brief encounters with. You might went on a date with them or someone from your hometown or childhood. Could be a childhood friend? Maybe. Or someone you dated when you were in school. I'm picking up on a neighbor too.

Possible placements (U or them)

Taurus, Aquarius, Capricorn, cancer, leo. Also I see Venus, Pluto, Saturn dominant energy. Also I see 2nd, 11th, 10th, 4th, 5th house stallium or his big 6 in one of these houses.

Pile 2 - the engagement

Your current energy

I'm picking up on multiple energies in this pile. So, I see that some of you guys started your healing journey and now you are finally seeing the results. I see that this pile is channeling their inner pain into something creative like painting, drawing or writing. And if not; you are channeling this pain into physical activity like working out constantly, and going out to take a walk. Something like that. I see that other people in this group is my artistic people. You are working on a project, a painting, or a book for others I see active manifestations here. You might be manifesting healing, romance or an Ex. Guys what did I say before about moving on? It is so frustrating! Stop trying to manifest a dusty please. Embrace the abundance mindset. Believe me pile 2 you deserve better honey. That person is not that good for you so don't be delusional about them and do not manifest them. I see that this pile also are taking very good care of themselves. Like you are taking care of your health, your mental well-being and overall your fitness level. Or if you are not manifesting someone then I think there's someone (romantic offer) or an Ex who want to get back with you. In this situation (the ex) you decide whether you want them or not. Please be wise pile 2. The dominant placements in this pile are air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius), Aries, capricorn. Mercury, and Uranus dominant planets in your chart.

Who is your future spouse (personality)

Well, I'm picking on a very taurian energy, venusian. This person might be a Taurus, Aries, Cancer. Venus, Uranus and mars dominant. I see that this person is very practical. His mind function when he thinks about money or money is everything on his mind, he is a materialistic person to the moon and back. It is so hilarious 😂, he is very generous, active physically or energetic. I see someone in a constant motion. Also this person is so handsome/pretty? Yeah he take good care of himself. He live in the present moment, his whole life is the 24 hour in his day. He have no regrets over the past and no anxiety over the future. He is so earthy and possessive. He sees his people, or people in his life as his territory. Like you are his and his only. This person might be your twin flame or soulmate. He might enter your life out of the blue. I see a geographical distance between you two. I see that this person is feeling down lately. I feel like he lack motivation or he feel disappointed because of a problem in his job. I see that he is childish or optimistic. I'm picking up on a volcano, this person is like a volcano to be honest. He might display a poker face but inside he is overwhelmed by emotions. You see Mr. Darcy in pride and prejudice? Like he was madly in love with Elizabeth but she never knew because of the stern face he show her. This perosn had a terrible past. I see that he was constantly being lied or deceived to. I see that he had a very heavy karmic lessons. Especially about deceit or lies, people might have used him because he was naive and childish. I see that he is so nurturing. His only goal right now is to work hard on himself and his finances/career. I see someone who is disciplined too. This person enjoys the finer things in life or expensive things I'm seeing. This person adores MONEY he breathe money. But he is so caring and gentle at the same time so don't worry. I see that he is a little bit insecure about how he looks. He doesn't see how beautiful he is, you see those models who complain about their insecurities to the internet but they are drop dead gorgeous. He is like that.

His physical appearance

Okay, this person and you have a wonderful chemistry together. So, I think his physical appearance might compliment yours. He might have a similar features. You see those people who date but everyone thinks they are siblings? He is like that. People might think you are siblings because you kinda look alike. I see someone with medium height. Curve or chubby. Light eyes (Hazel, green, grey) and light hair (dirty blonde, blonde, very light brown hair) round and cute features. I see that this person look like he is smiling or smirking even though he is not. Or his eyes, it seems like they are sparkling. Straight hair to wavy too. Pale skin, light skin and medium skin tone. This person is not too tall not too short. His height compliment yours. Like if you are short then he might be short between men. And if you are tall he might be very tall compared to men around him. This person's physical appearance might be so liked or desired by people. Or there's something sensual about him. Or he is sexually appealing.

His financial state

I see that this person's family or your future family in law financial state is very good. They might own multiple houses or multiple what do we call it? Mmmm lands? Like not estates I'm not seeing this, you see when we go and buy a piece of land? So we can resell it or use it to build something on it? This person's family have this and he might have inherited from his family. I see that his job or career requires him to travel, he might work in the court or justice. He might work in a lawyer office or he is a lawyer himself. And this job give him lots and lots of money. His financial state is sooo good. He never really faced a rough patch regarding finances. When he was young, he never really had to deal with poverty or anything like that no.

So, when will he enter your life?

I see 3 months and 5 weeks from now. This person might watch you or observe you from afar. He is so sneaky. He might push one of his friends to introduce you to him. I see a social event okay. And you are mingling and chatting with people and friends. So, he use this and come to you. And then this is how it is going to happen. This person might enter your life in June, July or he might be born in those months or his birthday on the 6th or 7th of the month (any month).

Possible placements

Taurus, Aries, Capricorn, cancer. Venus, Mars, Uranus as dominant planets in their chart. Or 2nd, 1st, 10th, 4th house stallium or his sun or big 6 in these houses.

Pile 3 - Wounded love

Your current energy

Okay, this pile’s current energy is so happy and giddy to be honest. I see that this pile are finally releasing an old relationship and healing from it. I see that you are feeling more confident and proud because you finally realized your own worth (as you should baby💋). I see that this pile are dating someone or already getting to know someone romantically. I see that this pile were single, got disappointed by someone and then they healed and now they are moving on. This pile is moving on to a better version of themselves and above all more confident. I see that right now you are discovering or seeing how many romantic options you have. I see also that you are helping someone to prepare a birthday party. I feel like this party is for a boy, young boy to be specific. And if it is not a birthday party then you are planning a wedding and helping the family with preparations. I see that you are so excited too. So maybe the person you are going to date or crushing on is going to come to the party and you are so excited and nervous. I see that this pile are coming out of the hermit mode. After a long time of healing and solitude. Anyways, I see that you are finally enjoying the present moment. You are happy of how things are. You might be someone who used to link their happiness to something/person or anything and if that thing is not around you get depressed. But now you finally detached. And got stronger and more resilient. The cards are very joyful; sooo enjoy pile 3. The dominant placements on this pile are fire placements (Aries, Leo and sagittarius) and water placements (Cancer, Scorpio and pisces) I see that you might have your sun or moon in the 1st, 5th, 9th, 4th,8th,12th house. You might also be sun, moon and mars dominant too. So, take what resonates.

Who is your future spouse (personality)

First thing I'm picking up on I someone very strategic. Someone very witty and smart. I guess this person is someone you dreamed of (you saw in your dreams) or subconsciously you manifested those traits. This person is so hot and sexy. I see that his aura is very sexual. Like people can't really resist how charming and sexy he is. I see that person is very blunt and if not blunt then he might be very honest. Like he is very straightforward. What is on his mind is going to be told to you with no filter. I see that this person is very sure of themselves. They are very confident and rigid. This person is very generous or his energy or his appearance is very big. I feel like he is the type of person that when he enter a place all eyes are on him. He is a seducer and he is not ashamed of that. I see that this person have all the tools and he know how to use them. Not to mention that this man is soo dominant. I see alot of masculinity. His voice, there's something about his voice that make him stand out. I see that this person is hard on the edge but very soft and sweet inside. I'm not sure if you are into Japanese anime or not but he might be a tsundere; which means someone who displays hard mask but inside they are a softy. I don't know why Christian grey came out all of sudden. I think this person have Christian Grey's energy. Dominant and horny. This person is very much like that. You see those dilfs who are irresistible? He have their energy. This person was very controlling before. I see that controlling thing didn't really help him or it drove people away from him so he is now trying to change this habit. This person, really knows how to manipulate things to his advantages. I see that he knows exactly when to shoot his shot and when to hold back. I see also that this person was either an alcohol addict or someone with destructive behaviors. And if not so, I see that this person might have anger issues. Also aggressive, I don't know why this aggressiveness came through but this person is kinda rude and aggressive to people whom he don't like. This person is very swift, he have hot temper. If you are not comfortable with someone like this then you can chose another pile. But I see that you are a sunshine and this person is the grumpy baby who feel weak in front of his sunshine 🌞. I see that this person usually look grumpy, but when they see you they change 180° and become that cute tamed cat.

His appearance

This person is taller that the average. Very sporty. He worked soooo hard on his body. I see that when they stand or enter a room they easily draw attention towards them. I see brown or tan skin. This person is tanny. Anyways, this person is so sexy omg. And his... Ahem is very large or big. I see that this person is dirty blonde or have a very light brown hair or he dye his hair in that color. I see also curly hair, and wavy. Might be afro too. This person knows how to dress well and he have a very magnetic aura. Sexy is coming through again. I see that you might be so picky with your taste in men. Like no one easily is liked by you. But when this person enters your life, he will be everything you dreamed and prayed for. Glasses, I see he wear glasses. He is like a sexy nerd if you understand what I mean. The eye color range from brown, grey, hazel. But mostly brown. This person's shoulders are wide. Very wide compared to the rest of his body. Also I see someone mascular. He is lean and mascular. I see that his face shape is triangle, he have pointy chin. The voice as I mentioned above. His voice is very demanding. Scary, it can send shivers down your spine. I see that he scares many people and he got told that many times. So, good luck with being able to face all of that.

His financial state

This person have a job but it doesn't really pay that much. I see he have money, average wage what I'm getting. I don't see someone rich, no. I see someone who is average. After his first saturn return he will earn more money. His job might require him to deal with children. To be a role model for children. So he might be pediatrician, or a teacher or a children mentor. I see that he is very good at dealing with babies and kids. He loves them. I see that this person work with a woman or under the supervision of a woman. And she pay for him. This person is in the education system. He is educated, have higher education. And he is now a new member in the organization he work in. He still struggles a little with money. But I think when you meet him, he will be in a better place. That's what I'm seeing. They are telling me that he is still a page; which means he is a fresh teacher or a new member in his job.

When will he enter your life?

I see 7 months and three weeks. I see also that you might know who this person is. You might be dating someone right now and if yes then this person is your spouse. I'm not seeing any Ex here. You might know this person because of someone, an older man introduced you to them. And if not then you may intuitively know who your future spouse is. Also, if nothing from the cases I mentioned apply to your case. Then, you might intuitively know this person but your head (ego, rational thoughts) is telling you otherwise about it. I feel like you can't accept the fact that someone like this is your spouse. There's an advice to this pile; believe in your intuition. That person is your spouse stop ignoring it.

Possible placements for him

Air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius). Sagittarius, Capricorn. Jupiter, Pluto, Mercury dominant, Air dominant. Stallium in the 3rd, 11th,7th house. A little bit of pisces. Or 12th house stallium.

Pile 4 - the gifted lady

Your current energy

So, I'm picking up on a male and this male (doesn't have to be) or a person is from 20 to 35 (This age range) is either love bombing you. Or pursuing you continously. I see that you are kind of anxious or blinded whether this person is serious or not. I see that this person is smart. He could be a sagittarius, or Aquarius. I see that this person feel that you are easy to get or you are in love with him that any action he does will woo you. What you feel about him is happiness, you enjoy this person's company and you truly like them I see that you are very daring when you are with them. Or this person make you feel like you have infinite possibilities. I see also that this person knows that you love him that's why I got this energy of surrender from you. You might like this person or even in love with them but you feel like they are distant. And you can't truly understand why are those things happen to you. If this is not the case, then the second energy I'm picking up on is that someone is coming in with a love offer to you. This person is emotionally unavailable so please don't bother to build something with them. I see that this person's main motive is sex. If you are expecting to hear from this person; they will text or call you soon. They will offer you two to meet up and you know (hook together). I'm not really sure if you want to be with this person but nothing really will come from them. Nothing serious. I see that you are not seeing things clearly. This person, might come and present himself as someone good and fun to be around but he is a fuckboy so don't give him anything to fuck. Or if you want to then it is on you 🙃. Also I see that many of you know the motive of this person but are paralyzed by their emotions or how they feel towards this person. Please honey leave that dusty to his momma. You need your spouse not this. Anyways, I see that this pile is considering to travel soon, I see a trip after 2 or 3 weeks, days or even months. The dominant energy on this pile are fire placements (Leo, Aries or sagittarius) and air placements (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius).

Who is your future spouse (personality)

I see someone who is very sensitive. Someone who is really shy and dreamy? I'm picking up on a piscesian energy to be honest. This person can detach and leave any situation easily. I also see that this person have a unique perspective on life. He might be someone who is drawn to spirituality and if not then dark science. Like tarot, astrology, magic, occult, Satanism or anything that is considered taboo in your country, this is a general reading so take what resonates. This person is very spiritual too. I see that this person is carefree and can influence anyone easily. You see those people who are cult leaders? I see someone (your spouse) who can change anyone's perspective about the subject he is interested in. Let's say that you think magic is harmful okay? This person have the ability to convince you that magic is not really that harmful. What I'm picking up on also is that this person is very good at persuasion. He knows how to win any argument. This person is very responsible despite his dreamy nature. I'm also seeing that this person is very fair. He doesn’t manipulate people at all. I see someone who is isolated or you know a lone wolf. A classic ISTP or ISFP; since this person is not so rational or you know not ruled by their head or brain. This person is balanced, or when you meet him; he will balance out all the areas in his life. I see also that this person is currently collecting money or working very hard. I see that when you meet him, he will be already lunching a project that is related to his career. This person is smart too. And if not then wise beyond his age. Idk why I'm picking up on mercury in pisces. He might have this placement. I see that this person is not so extrovert, you can say he is selectively extrovert. He got to chose who he spend time with, very selective regarding people.

His physical appearance

Well, first thing I'm picking up on is that this person look exactly like one of his family members. He might have a twin or look like his father or grandpa. I see also that this person will have great chemistry with you too. I'm picking up on green and hazel eyes, round face or chubby face, someone who is blonde, brown or his hair color is caramel. This person is very sexy and active. He might not be mascular but still he goes to the gym and do the things that most gym bros do (channeling his frustration into working out). This person's face is very baby like or he have baby face or he look younger than his age. You see those people who you think are in their 20s but they are in like their 30s? This person have this thing. Also this person have a sunny aura. Or a golden retriever energy. Another thing is this person undertone is very fair; almost pale. And if not he have medium or tan skin color. He look boyish or childish. Hmmm, I'm not sure if this apply to everyone but this person physically is sexy or hot I mean his body but his face is very boyish or cute. He might have a light beard too. I don't know why but his ears might be pointy? Yeah I'm picking up on a pointy ears too. His hair is wavy or straight. This person's height is between medium to tall, mostly between 5'9 to 5'11 (175 to 180). His smile is very prominent. And yeah guys I think the smell? He use trendy perfumes. Or if not his perfume could be so special it lingers in you thoughts.

His financial state

This person work as a soldier and if not then his effort got used in return to a very low wage. I'm not saying that he is now broke but he was broke before. I see that someone hired him and used his time and energy to underpaid him. You see those people who work in malls? As cashiers or even clean the floor? This person endured that job and got nothing in return. And then I see that one day he met a man and that man helped your spouse to get a better job and even better payment. I see that your spouse struggled a lot financially. His family perhaps wasn't really that supportive of him so he had to work and earn the money. Now I see that your spouse in a better place financially, there's no more debts on his shoulder. And honestly I see that he possibly might have worked multiple jobs just to earn money and support himself. I see why in the beginning of this reading I felt like he is paralyzed and stuck! Because his financial state literally traumatized him.

When will he enter your life?

10 weeks from now, the cards are telling me that this person will enter your life all of sudden. Or if not then there's something traumatic that is going to happen to you and at that time your spouse will be there. He might enter your life after you broke up with someone or if you're not dating anyone then you might witness a divorce of someone around you. Capricorn season is prominent here. So, this person might enter your life via a woman who is a Capricorn or have earth placements. I see also that you might intuitively know that this is your spouse. Or you might be having a spiritual awakening at the time he enters your life.

Possible placements

Libra, Cancer, Pisces, Aquarius, earth signs (Capricorn, virgo and taurus). Moon, neptune, Saturn dominant in their chart or he have sun or moon or his big six in the 7th, 4th, 12th, 11th house.

Post date: 7th/Sep/2024-Sat

*Feedback is appreciated

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

imagine Jason sleeping with reader and having to rest his hand on their neck. He just wants to feel their pulse at all times, terrified of them disappearing .

The Blood In Your Veins

Hi nonnie. Kinda tweaked this ask because holding your throat feels more AK!Jason Todd to me. Sorry if you're not an Arkham Knight fan! ~500 words

The Arkham Knight sleeps with a hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pressed to your beating pulse. Night after night, his hand stays there, unmoving, unrelenting. If you try to move, his grip only grows tighter, a reminder to stay in place. To stay next to him where he can feel the blood pulsing through your veins.

He knows you try to be understanding, try to close your eyes and slip into sleep. But you can't. It feels like a threat, a promise that you can't go anywhere, even if you wanted to. And maybe it is.

He needs to feel the beat of your life against his skin. He needs to know that this is real, and not another twisted vision his mind conjured in the asylum. It's not an escape. It's not just a fantasy he's imagining to pretend he's not trapped with the clown.

He'd never admit it, never tell you that you're the reason he still has anything left of his sanity. That he'd pretend he was somewhere safe, with you, every night the torment got too much. Somewhere he wasn't beaten and abandoned and cold.

So, he needs this. Needs you. Needs the soft and the warm and the steady you always bring. Even if you try to shift out of his grip, even if you try to guide his hand to hold somewhere else. Nothing else makes him feel here, in this moment. His fingers have to rest around your throat.

The Arkham Knight would never hurt you, never try to limit your air or make you choke. But he can't stop himself from squeezing, sometimes. Your pulse just feels stronger against his skin when he does. He can get closer to the steady pumping in your veins, feel the way your heart rate accelerates. He feels alive. You feel alive.

It's best when you finally fall asleep, when your breathing slows and you melt into his touch, any apprehension or uncertainty gone. He exists for moments like these. When your soul is completely under his hand, when he can stroke the pads of his fingers over your pulse and just know.

It's the only thing that keeps the nightmares away now. You. Your life. He'd bury himself into your chest if he could, anything to get closer to the pounding against your ribs. He wraps himself around you at night, face buried in the junction where your shoulder meets your neck, resting over your heart, or hidden in your hair. He tangles your legs with his or hikes your thigh over his hip. Whatever gets you closest.

But one thing always stays the same, his hand finds a way to settle on your throat. Nothing feels more right than when his arm snakes past your chest so he can hold your neck and pull you to him. He'd keep you like this forever if he could.

You'll understand, eventually, even if you don't know now, you're the only peace he has left.

[ozzgin]

Omg i love your Yandere serial killer with a split persona so much 😭😭, can you do more headcanon about him?? Like does he aware of his other persona seeing reader kinda scared to talk to him normally thank u

Yandere! Serial Killer Scenarios

Featuring the kind, quiet man who has no idea why you look at him with terror in your eyes. This time with an official character design!

Content: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror, dubious/non-consent

[Main Story] | [More original works]

You only attempted to escape once.

His frequent warnings had begun to wear off, and your mind dared to wander towards hope. One day, during his evening walk, you ran to your bedroom and pulled out a train ticket you'd hidden earlier inside a drawer. The small piece of paper weighed heavy in your hand. Come, now, you scolded yourself. It was weeks of careful planning: anticipating his schedule, erasing your tracks, preparing the essentials. You could already smell the worn leather seats, and hear the jarring whistle of departure. Then you'd be far away from this maniac, all but a terrible memory to be locked away.

There was no time for hesitation. You grabbed a small bag and sped towards the station, frequently looking over your shoulder, muttering silent prayers. Once you made it to your compartment, you exhaled in relief. A relief you hadn't felt in months, washing over your body and relaxing your tense muscles. You climbed the stairs, and searched for your seat. Has someone misread their ticket? You found your spot occupied by a stranger.

"What did I tell you about running away?" his deep voice echoed across the empty hall.

The walk back home was silent. You were convinced this was your end. You'd arrive at the house, and he'd cut you into pieces. Your lips curled in a horrified grimace, mind flooded with foreign feelings: your nails plucked apart with pliers, a burning sting after each detachment. The roots of your teeth grinding and screeching within the bone of your jaw, until all that's left is a fleshy, gaping wound. Plop, plop, as each little souvenir falls into the jar.

He slammed the door shut and stared you down. You looked at the floor, but all you could see were the grimy ID cards of all the women who never made it out of this damned house. You were next.

His large hand ruffled your hair, and you glanced up in disbelief.

"This stays between us. Mother better not hear that her soon-to-be daughter in law tried to run away. Especially now that she's warmed up to you. Are we clear?"

You nodded desperately. God, how pathetic of you. But being trapped was better than rotting underground like the rest of them. You just wanted to live.

You can always tell whether it's him, or him. It's the silence. Or lack of, for that matter. He likes the quietness, the muffled ticking of the clock, the busy rattling in the kitchen, your laughs, your chatter. You'll sit together and listen to the rain, or read your books across from each other. There's no need for words, you know you can be at peace.

He likes music. When you hear the record player, you know it's your cue to perform. You exit your room - it's better if he doesn't call you down himself - and descend to the main area. The stairs creak louder, the wallpaper begins to yellow. It's almost as if the house ages with the music, and you tumble back in time.

He's been waiting for you, naturally. How's a man meant to spend his evenings, if not with his adored wife? He'll reach out for your hand, and invite you to a slow dance. Those are the worst moments. The tight, suffocating hold, his deranged stare drilling into your very soul, the whispered promises: that you're forever his, and you'll never find happiness anywhere else. He knows it. It's the same for him, really. Everything he's ever needed lies within your embrace.

Some days, the charade doesn't last long. You simply won't be in the mood to be kissed, to be stripped naked and fondled by his murderous hands. So you'll just pout and gaze ahead. It angers him terribly.

"Wretched whore. Do I look like a beggar?"

He'll shove you aside and make his way out, taking his tools with him. He hates asking for your affection and would rather take his anger out somewhere else. You know he won't hurt you, or force himself on you, which means someone else will have to pay for your disrespect. And yet, it's the only freedom you have around him - the privilege of refusing him and living to see the next day. The rest aren't as lucky. You'd rather not think too deeply about it.

My honey, I know With the dawn that you will be gone But tonight, you belong to me Just to little old me.

What a bizarre thing, to harbor such hatred towards the one you love. You've never met anyone kinder. He's thoughtful, patient, caring. He knows everything about you and lives to serve you. He's your best friend and your lover. He's the one you want to marry one day. But he's also...well...him. And you can't have one without the other.

"No, Mother, it isn't tacky," he barks at the shattered mirror, adjusting your necklace. "And you know what? It's up to (Y/N) to decide if she wants to wear your wedding jewelry."

"It's nice", you respond curtly. You look into the empty reflection and nod. He likes it when you take his side in front of Mother.

"I knew you'd agree. We're a match made in Heaven, aren't we?" he smiles and zips up the old dress. You shiver: wearing a dead woman's gown was not part of your wedding plans. The corset is tightened, and you gasp. His hands are tense.

"I know he proposed to you. And what a stupid grin you had on your face when it happened! You never act like that around me."

He doesn't call me a bitch, for starters, you think to yourself. You shuffle on the bed, trying to loosen up the garment, but he swiftly pins you down onto the mattress.

"Not that it matters. Would you like to know why?" he inquires with a familiar glimmer of jealousy in his dilated pupils. "Because I'll always be your first. You know it, I know it. He never will.

At the end of the day, you belong to me."

To compete with oneself. Nonsense. Utter madness, all of it. The house; the drawer filled with gory trophies; the nightly talks with Mother dearest, whose bones have most likely turned to dust by now; the bloodied scalpels; the embrace of a man who fills you with warmth and terror.

You're part of it now.

[yorsgirl]

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

.

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing. 

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to  misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

.

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

.

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him -  covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never. 

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line. 

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete. 

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

.

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

.

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

[himasgod]

King Deshret x Reader I

PART I: Where King Deshret falls in love with Nabu Malikata and forgets you, causing you to leave Sumeru to forget him

SCENARIO: you are the queen with King Deshret, however, he slowly falls in love with Nabu Malikata and forgets you, so, hurt by his betrayal, you ask Rukkhadevata to help you fake your death to leave Sumeru forever and go Inazuma to start a new life. Years later, when your heart had already healed, Rukkhadevata asks you to return to Sumeru to help her with the Withering, and you return, meeting him again.

(Here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I've made it longer than normal because I wanted to go into this one longer, doing it with a more descriptive narrative. I hope you like it and thanks for the request! Dedicated to sailorstar9)

(Also, second and third part will be published on Monday 11 and Friday 15!)

I.

From the beginning, you were Deshret's constant support, beyond politics and alliances with other gods. You shared a unique vision for his kingdom, a dream forged with every step you took at his side in the desert sands. Every glance you exchanged at the edge of the vast void spoke of your commitment, of your unwavering fidelity.

Your connection to him was deeper than sand and wind; you were his queen, not only on the throne, but in his ambitions and in his darkest nights. Each whispered word shared in the stillness of the night sealed the promise that love and kingdom would flourish together, no matter what danger lurked in the shadows. He taught you to believe there was something beyond the horizon, a power capable of shaping destiny.

You still remember the nights when he shared with you his deepest secrets, his desires and fears. He dreamed of a kingdom where his people were not slaves to the laws of heaven, and though his dreams were vast, his love for you seemed even greater. Under the cloak of the stars, he promised you that there was nothing that could break his loyalty to you.

II.

The peace of the kingdom was shaken when Nabu Malikata came into his life. At first, she was just a friend and an ally who shared with Deshret and Rukkhadevata the vision of a kingdom where the desert and the forest coexisted. You admired her strength and the gentleness of her presence, believing that she could be a powerful ally. However, over time, that admiration turned to uncertainty, because something in Deshret's gaze had changed.

Nabu Malikata brought with her an ethereal beauty, the kind of grace that seemed to merge with the wind and the water, that seemed to even calm the sands beneath her feet. You could feel the pull she exerted on him, like a distant star calling to him from above, unreachable and magnetic. In moments of silence, you noticed that his mind was no longer completely with you, but was lost in thoughts of Nabu Malikata, in the dreams they built together.

Every word Deshret said about her became a thorn in your chest. You tried to suppress the pain, to pretend you didn't notice how your nights with him became lonelier. You tried to remind him of his promise, to reconnect with the man you loved, but his heart seemed to have lost itself in a labyrinth of unknown longings. What was once yours was now foreign to you.

III.

Betrayal was a harsh word to describe what you felt, but you had no other word for the emptiness that began to expand in your chest. Deshret was trapped in his ambitions, in the secrets shared in whispered nights with Nabu Malikata, while you languished in silence. You could not bear to live in a realm where your love was no longer the center of his world, where you had been replaced by another vision, another soul.

It was then that you turned to Rukkhadevata, that wise and serene friend who knew the weight of pain and hope. You knew she shared an ancient loyalty with you, and her compassion inspired confidence. You revealed your fears to her and asked her for a soul-sucking favor: to help you disappear.

“Rukkhadevata,” you murmured, your voice cracking, “I’m afraid I cannot remain here.”

She tilted her head in understanding. There was no judgment in her eyes, only a stillness filled with empathy.

“He no longer belongs to me. His heart… has turned to her, and I cannot bear to remain in his shadow.” The words tumbled painfully from your mouth, but you held firm. “I ask for your help, my friend. I do not wish to cause conflict, I only want to leave, to be forgotten.”

With a sacred ritual, you faked your death, a disappearance shrouded in mystery and mourning. Deshret mourned your loss, but deep in your heart, you knew his grief was tinged with other feelings. He did not return to your grave more than once, and his devotion to Nabu Malikata continued. You left without looking back, knowing that your love had been sacrificed on the sands of his ambition.

IV.

Your arrival in Inazuma was a silent rebirth. Here, far from the sands of Sumeru and the memories you left behind, you began to rebuild your life. Over the years, your skill at purification and healing made you a symbol of hope in this land. People began to call you the Queen of Benevolence, a woman shrouded in mysticism and compassion, someone who had learned to heal poisoned souls and lands.

You dedicated each day to this new purpose, transforming pain into something positive, into a force that gave back to others what you had lost. The nights when you thought of Deshret were few, and each time his memory appeared in your dreams, it was less vivid, less painful. The faces of those you helped replaced their images, and your new life felt like a second birth. You had learned to let go of love and embrace the peace that came with distance.

V.

Centuries later, a familiar figure appeared before you: Rukkhadevata, clothed in the same serenity and compassion you had met years before. Her visit was not just a show of friendship; she came to ask for your help.

The Withering, a plague of corruption had ravaged the lands of Sumeru, and only your power of purification could help mitigate its advance.

“The Withering,” she explained to you, her voice heavy with gravity and despair, “is devouring our forests and withering the lands. Life itself is fading from our realm, and I fear my power is no longer enough to stop it.”

Rukkhadevata's request shook the delicate balance you had built in your heart. Returning to Sumeru meant facing what you left behind, the indifference you had cultivated. The memory of Deshret, now only a shadow, seemed insufficient to make you hesitate. However, the suffering of the land, the need to save the innocent, made you rethink your decision. This time, you would not return out of love, but out of duty.

VI.

Your return to Sumeru was solemn, without great ceremony or promises. When Deshret saw you for the first time, his gaze held wonder, pain, and something else that was harder to decipher. His lips, which had previously spoken only words of love for you, now only emitted pleas. He wanted your forgiveness, one last chance to redeem the harm he had caused you. But for you, the Deshret you loved had been buried in the sand, along with the promise you once shared.

“My queen…” he murmured in a trembling voice. “Is that you? I thought I had lost you forever… Please forgive me, I…”

His pleas echoed hollowly in your heart, and you looked at him with the same compassion you gave to all those you helped in Inazuma. His love was only a distant echo, and in that moment, you understood that there was no room in your heart for resentment or forgiveness, only for the peace you had found without him.

“Deshret,” you replied in a calm voice, “you are no longer my king, nor am I your queen. Time has erased the love that once existed. I have only returned to help my friend and fulfill my duty to this land.”

With one last look, you walked away from Deshret, letting the past burn in the sands.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Down on all fours

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: After you unwillingly come clean about your undying love for Eddie Munson, your life is swept into a whirlwind of deceit, lust, confusion and regret… and glitter that Eddie can’t seem to shake from his pockets.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham

Warnings: 18+, slight angst (?), alcohol consumption, reader referred to as girl, cheating/unfaithfulness, drugs mentioned (weed), mentions of blood, depictions of violence, cursing, bodily insecurity, implied sexual themes. Character are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @cafekitsune

The movie theatre would never be the same anymore— not to you. Not since that day. A place once associated with joy and child like wonder, where you watched your beloved characters come to life on the big screen and where you could laugh openly, unattractively and purely with your friends.

Tainted. Forever changed.

But not forgotten. Never forgotten.

The memories have been eating you alive, feasting on your insecurity and your shame. Despite the look of fearful regret on Eddie’s face, you still thought about him.

Day and night— morning and noon. Before you slept and before you awoke each morning. He even infiltrated your dreams. Dreams are meant to be sacred, private affairs and yet, Eddie Munson still ruled them like the King of all of your desires. His ring clad fingers were still clutching onto your heart— squeezing and loosening his grip around the vital organ as he saw fit. He had the upper hand; the control.

He always did. He always has.

You couldn’t bring yourself to face them— any of them. Not Steve, not Robin, not Chrissy and especially not Eddie. It was peculiar, the addictive need to see Eddie no matter the cost— no matter the humiliation. It out weighed every sane thought you had.

You would steal glances at him from across a room, hiding in plain sight. Desperate for the shadows to claim you as their own; for the walls to hug you back. You felt other worldly, as if your soul was floating outside of your body and you had no rational feeling. No say. No voice.

Confessions should be freeing; but you have never felt so trapped. Chained. Soul tied.

Love conquers all, but love also might just conquer you.

-

It’s mid-week, and although college parties always attract unwanted attention you could never have prepared to see this many people crashing your family home. Precious photos were knocked over, the smashed glass from the frames line the top of shelves and cabinets- glittering them in a forbidden pixie dust.

Your bedroom has been occupied by a couple you didn’t recognise and if it weren’t for the pleasant buzz of alcohol coursing through your blood you most certainly would have screamed at them to leave. The sicker parts of you were envious of their engagement. Their human closeness and connection.

Why couldn’t you have that? Didn’t you deserve that?

So instead of blowing your top, you roll your eyes and scoff before slamming the familiar door obnoxiously loud and coke to nest at the bottom of the staircase; the wood is hard and cold against your bare thighs which causes you to pay some uncomfortable attention to your outfit. Sparkly, twinkly and stupid.

Your heart sinks to the abysmal pit at the bottom of your stomach at the realisation that nobody here really knows what this party is for. Who it is for.

Your birthday streamers that once decorated the walls proudly have become unpinned from the concrete, cascading down the wall in a massive spiral and hiding the message written on the plastic.

Happy birthday!

Not a single person had uttered those words to you the whole night. Even on a day where you were meant- born to be celebrated, you have been forgotten. A bystander in your own life. An observer in a theatrical play written for you. About you.

And the humour of it all?

You were used to it now.

Nothing could break your heart; because it was already in pieces.

Shreds. Splinters. Fragments. Puzzle pieces never to be solved or mended again. A heart shaped hole stamped into your chest where someone once lived.

Cobwebs inhabit the vacant crevasse, dust gathering on the sensitive walls. The sensitive walls that have hardened into a volcanic crust.

The only thing left behind in your impenetrable fortress? A single crumpled envelope with Eddie’s name written on it in cursive. The ‘i’ in his name punctuated with a loveheart.

He was the only tenant you wanted living there. And in reality, he should have been evicted a long time ago.

But nobody said love was easy. Nobody warned you that it would be this hard, though, either.

Was love supposed to make you this low? Was it supposed to make you find your bearings at the bottom of a red fizzing cup? The carbonated bubbles in your drink seemed to be your only friend tonight.

Would it really be your birthday if you didn’t cry at least once? Or twice… or thrice.

“Hey! Does anyone have any weed?” Your quiet attempt at a yell comes out of your mouth in the form of a drunken hiccup and you are debating the possibility that you may have stood up too fast, “Anyone? No?” Frustrated you pinch the bridge of your nose as you sigh loudly into your hand, your ears met by silence from your peers.

“I might.” You can hear a comedic tweak in his voice and you swear you can feel part of you die on the inside.

“Steve,” You say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile, “I didn’t know you smoked?” You also weren’t aware that he would be here— but you can’t deny the attention that this party is demanding from the neighbourhood. You are partly surprised that the police haven’t been called yet, but your neighbours aren’t known to be snitches.

“I don’t usually,” he shrugs dismissively, “I didn’t know you were throwing a party? Thankfully word travels fast in this town, huh?” His elbow gently nudges into your arm playfully, “There’s no better time for me to give you this.” He hands you a small box that has been wrapped all too perfectly in a sage green wrapping paper; brought together with a pretty black tulle bow. For a moment you are totally stunned, eyes inflated as you gawk down at the gift in your slightly shaky hands.

“You…” you search for the words, lost in his kindness and when you finally gather enough courage to meet his sweet brown eyes you nearly drown in their depths, “You got me a gift?”

He flashes you one of his signature Steve smiles and your drunk brain can’t seem to comprehend if this is a joke of not.

“Of course I did? You’re one of my best friends!” His voice is a happy chime as he ruffles his fingers through his chestnut gelled hair, offering the stiff strands some movement. You notice his pupils flicking between your face and the present in your hands, one of his eyebrows raise with subtle confusion, “Aren’t you going to open it?”

“Yeah- yes! Yes, of course!” You set your empty cup down on a nearby table before your nimble fingers come to wrestle with the sticky tape, painted fingernails clawing like an animal to get to the goods inside. There is a nervousness that comes with the unwrapping of the gift and you don’t quite understand why. The moment feels significant… special. You finally feel somewhat special tonight.

Eagerly, Steve keeps his warm amber eyes trained on you. A soft, dreamy smile itching at his lips as he awaits your approval. You and Steve had been friends for such a long time, you even opened your college acceptance letters together in his family dining room with his parents. He had always been there for you, through everything. One of your best friends— possibly your only friend.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while— how have you been?” His voice is laced with genuine concern but all you can do is ogle at what is displayed in front of you. A shiny silver necklace that had been personalised to have your name dangling from the chain with small colourful charms decorating the metal plating sit inside of the small box that Steve had handed to you. It was beautiful. It was you. And not to mention… it perfectly matched your outfit.

“Shut up!” You gasp, picking up the chain from the safety of its box and dangling it in front of Steve’s face, the neon stream of lights from the party reflect off of its pristine surface, “Steve!! What the Hell? This is stunning!” You become a fit of excited girlish giggles and Steve shakes his head at your outburst, finding it adorable.

“You like it?” He is booming to be heard over the increasingly loud music and you squeal, fumbling with the latch on the chain.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you so much!” You reach around your neck, fighting to clip the necklace and Steve offers you a helping hand accompanied by an amused chucklez, “It’s perfect, Steve, truly! I love it, I love it!” You brush your hair over your shoulder, allowing Steve to access the chain and clasp it securely.

“There! Pretty as a picture.” He winks at you and you toy with your name displayed across your chest; an honest smile gracing your lips.

“Happy birthday.” His large palm rubs the flesh of your shoulder and you nod at him in acknowledgement. There is an after glow that lingers after Steve’s touch disappears and you are not even aware of where he wanders off to but when you realise that you are stood alone… you feel that all too familiar feeling start to creep it’s way back into your chest. An icy chill. A storm brewing.

“Steve?” You call out to him, however your voice is wasted with how small it was and goes totally unnoticed. Your eyes drink in the sea of dancing, sweating bodies around you. The number of people in your home is multiplying— like a deathly virus.

The perky smile falls from your cheeks and only then do you remember why you were even talking to Steve in the first place— you wanted some weed. You needed some.

Or did you?

You wanted to escape life. To feel free from the bounds of Eddie Munson, free from the shackles of your mind. This is the only way you knew how… sleep wasn’t an option— he could reach you there.

Even the darkest corners of your mind, where even the ghosts refused to venture, were haunted by Eddie— there was no fleeing from him. You were his.

But he was Chrissy’s.

-

You find yourself outside, sitting in the cool night air by the side of your house. Your face is flushed from the alcohol and your skin feels as though it is prickling with heat; fiery.

Your mini skirt hugs your hips and thighs and you fist the fabric, suddenly uncomfortable with the way your body looks in the garment. The way the flesh of your thighs squish the ground beneath you has you stifling a scream and you wrap your arms tightly around your torso to shield the rest of your body from the world.

Your eyes flicker and blaze with the mirrored light from the street lamps, the orange hues meeting the chunky glitter that dominates your eyelids. The heavy makeup was starting to irritate your eyes, but you would do anything to seem half presentable. Anything to feel and look your best.

A choked laugh emits past your lips; it was ludicrous. How you had been exiled from your own birthday party. Left to the wolves of the wild. You didn’t mind too much— it meant you could finally take off this weighty mask you had been hiding behind all night. No more untruthful smiles, no more biting back teary eyes.

You could finally feel. And breathe.

However, your reign of peace and solitude doesn’t last long as your ears perk involuntarily at an all too recognisable thundering chuckle. This whole time, you had been preparing for him to show face and yet you have never felt so startled. A deer in headlights.

The chains around your wrists tighten as you stiffen, unable to move. Unable to respond or breathe or think.

Eddie had arrived.

“Woooah! Lookie’ here! If it isn’t the birthday girl,” Even in the dim light of the garden you can see his Cheshire smile examining you, “What you doing out here all alone, Sweetheart?”

Your breath remains lodged tightly in your throat, wound up like a coiled spring and you are unable to speak. It’s almost as if you are paralysed— has he hit you with a tranquillising dart? Or was that just his cologne that had you so wrapped up in everything that he is.

He called you sweetheart…

He called you sweetheart.

Sweetheart.

His sweetheart?

“Hello? Are you okay?” His hand waves in front of your face, causing you to blink and flinch momentarily at the sudden action, “Aren’t you cold out here?”

“No…” a whisper is all you could manage. It’s all you could afford to give him.

There wasn’t much of you left to give. Soon you would be this vacant polished shell of a human being— beautiful on the outside and hopeless on the inside.

“Okay, well… Happy birthday.” He nods at you enthusiastically, his voice like a siren song lulling you to your demise. He shoves his hands into his ripped jeans pockets, letting out an exaggerated shiver before he says, “Hey, have you seen Chrissy? She came here an hour ago and I haven’t really heard from her.” He tries to disguise the worry in his voice, but you can read him like a book. The way his hands are twitching from his pockets to rub anxiously at his neck, or how he bounces on the balls of his feet— the adrenaline causing him to be restless.

You wish Eddie could do the same with you. You wish he could see past this makeup and this charade. You wish he could recognise just how much that simple sentence had ruined your evening.

Of course he was here looking for Chrissy, why else would he have showed up? For you? Please. The thought alone was laughable.

“I didn’t even know she was here.” Your chin tilts to your shoulder where you can eye the large window looking on into your kitchen. The lights are out but there are neon fairy lights twinkling and illuminating the darkness. It’s almost as if you are looking through a kaleidoscope.

It had taken you hours to hang all of those lights, only to watch other people enjoy their warmth instead.

“You should come back inside, you don’t seem like you’re having a lot of fun out here in the dark.” Eddie takes a leisurely seat next to you and out of instinct you shuffle a few inches away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible, “Are you wasted? You’re being eerily quiet.”

“It’s a party, Eddie.” You sigh, answering him without leaving a single beat, an abrupt newfound confidence helps you to untangle your voice, “People get drunk at parties— I just wish I had some weed.”

It was ironic, wishing for weed as you talk to a weed dealer.

“Is that really your birthday wish? To have weed?” His shoulders bounce lightly as he laughs, his hands coming to find his coat pocket. You shrug in response to his question, tipping your head back and swallowing the last of what was left swirling around in the bottom of your cup.

The truth was, you hadn’t even lit your birthday candles yet. There hadn’t been a right time and you didn’t want to be that person. But if you had sparked those candles… you would have wished for him.

Not for weed. Not for money. Not for beauty or brains.

You would have wished for Eddie Munson.

“Here.” He is careful to take your hand into his, gently prying your fingers open and dropping a bud of weed into your palm before he is securing your fingers back over it, “It isn’t much, I know that but… if I could make your birthday wish a reality then I suppose that’s pretty alright, huh?” He holds your wrist loosely in his grip and your fuzzy brain can’t compute if you are dreaming or not.

You had expected fireworks from his touch— a massive explosion of technicolour and bright blinding lights.

But what you got was far more sensual than that. An electric shockwave travelled along your skin from your arm to your back, zapping down every vertebrae in your spine and coating your body in a blanket of goosebumps. Every single one of your hairs stood on end and this might have been the most alert you have felt all day. You felt awake. Resurrected. Alive.

“Are you sure?” You gulp, mouth suddenly dry, “I can pay you…” You start to frantically search your person for any sign of loose cash— your bra, did your skirt have pockets this morning? No. Where the Hell is your purse?

“No- no! This is a gift, from me to you! It’s your birthday for crying out loud!” Eddie is holding both of your wrists now, his attempt to still your nervous jittery movements, “Just enjoy it, okay? Just… just smile.” His deep pleading voice is painful as it enters your ears.

Just smile.

Smile? Weren’t you smiling?

“Thank you…” up until this point you hadn’t fully perceived just how close of a proximity you and Eddie were nestled at. His slight body leaning in closer to yours, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. He was within kissing distance and all you could do now was stare at his dimpled smile. The sight alone was enough to cause your own lips to tweak up at the corners.

“Do you know how to roll a joint?” Eddie could evidently sense the growing tension and he pulls away from you, not in a moment of disgust and terror— but out of respect. Attraction was clear but Eddie was like a loyal dog to Chrissy. There’s no way he would betray her.

“Oh- uhm… no, no I don’t.” You laugh slightly as you look down at the drugs held captive in your hand. Your skin being tinged with the ponging smell.

“Luckily for you, I’m a bit of a master at it.”

“Eddie?” A whimper. A whisper. Weak. Sorrow filled.

“Yeah?” His heavenly eyes had you questioning why thieves ever bothered to steal art— when you were looking at a masterpiece.

A pause. Nothingness. Expectation. Shadows.

“Why do you hate me?” The question is shuddered out through constricted teeth and you find an ungodly comfort in that familiar ache inside of your sternum, “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me, Eddie.”

“I don’t hate you-“

“But you don’t love me. You don’t… like me.” You push your feet into the soft earth, coming to stand shakily in front of Eddie’s seated frame, “Every time I look at you, I can't help but hope you feel the same butterflies in your stomach when you look back at me.” Your eyes settle on the empty street, the only noise circulating the neighbourhood was coming from inside your house. Thumping bass beating in harmony with your heart, “But deep down, I know all you feel is pity."

“That isn’t true and you’re being cruel.” Eddie launches to his feet, darting to stand in front of you, “Where is this coming from? If I have hurt you, I assure you that it was never my intention— I could never hurt you purposely.”

“You didn’t have to purposely hurt me, Ed’s. All I had to do was sit back and watch you love someone else. Someone better than me… that was enough to break my spirit.”

A disruption shakes the interior of your house, a commotion surfacing and you can hear the cheers and whistles from your peers. Eddie clocks it as well, and you can see a panic distort his puppy like features.

“Please can we talk about this tomorrow, when you’re sober and… and we can both just figure this out? Please?” His hands find your shoulders, holding you steady as his chocolate orbs bear into yours. His attention is on you, but you can tell that his feet are ready to sprint indoors.

Quietly, you nod. Anything to please him. Anything to make him happy. Plus— you were also intrigued as to what was happening behind in you. Whatever it was, it had stirred up a whirlwind.

Eddie is quick to leave your side, like a whippet released onto a race track, taking the porch steps two at a time and you are hot on his heels. You are clumsy in your kitten heeled shoes, but you are right behind him.

‘I’ll follow thee and make a Heaven of a Hell.

To die upon the hand I love so well.’

William Shakespeare, Helena

-

“What’s going on?” You stagger into the shoulder of a Frat member, whispering an inaudible apology as he turns to glare down at you. Though, after he takes in your appearance his solid and annoyed expression softens into amusement and what you can only assume as blind lust.

“Harrington and Cunningham got caught banging in the bathroom— can’t believe you missed it! It was fucking priceless.” He drapes his heavy muscular arm over your shoulders and your knees nearly buckle beneath you at his weight pressing down on you.

“What?” You peek up at him through your eyelashes, clearly dazed. You have to make sure— you have to hear him say it again.

“Cunningham? Chrissy?” He is laughing rudely into your face and your nose scrunches distastefully at the stench of beer on his breath, “And Steve Harrington! They were fucking! He had her bent over the bathroom sink, man! His hands full of her hair— pretty sure the mirror is gonna be covered in lipstick!” Finally he unhooks his arm from around your neck and you feel like you may just float up to the ceiling.

You push away from him, using his massive hulking body to propel you further into the mob, your eyes desperate to find Eddie in the crowd. And when you do… it’s ugly.

Anguish, rage, indecision and fear blaze in Eddie’s tear glossed eyes. The gears inside of his head were working like clockwork and you knew where this was about to go as he stares murderously at Steve. Jaw wired tightly shut, nostrils flaring into bullet sized holes and fists so punishingly rigid that you can see the bones of his knuckles straining against his skin; turning his skin to a snow like shade of white.

Steve descends from the top of the staircase alone. His hair is tossed into a messy heap upon his sweat soaked head and you can read from his slumped and lazy stance alone that Steve is totally gone. His hands grasp the bannister, clinging onto the wood for dear life in hopes that he won’t fall down the steep steps.

“Eddie- no, don’t do it!” You try to move toward him as quickly as your boozy brain would allow, but it’s too late. Eddie is flying toward Steve like a bat out of Purgatory.

Time appears to speed up as you watch the violence unfold in front of you alongside the rest of chanting crowd. Eddie has smashed Steve against the wall by the collar of his shirt and you swear you hear some sort of cracking noise come from concrete from the connection of Steve’s back hurling into the plasterboard.

“Fuck! Guys, stop it!” Not only are you terrified of Steve getting beat to a pulp— but your parents would kick you out of the house if things got tarnished beyond repair. And that includes the paint work.

A brutish punch thrown by Eddie bursts Steve’s cheek open and you squeal in horror at the stream of pure gore that spurts from the gnarly wound, “Jesus Christ, Eddie!!” Marching up the staircase you wedge yourself between the two men and Eddie’s movements still. He allowed himself one punch. One good punch, as a warning and also as a courtesy. He didn’t want to frighten you and he also didn’t want to take advantage of Steve’s inebriated state.

One punch is all he needed to satisfy the sickening anger bubbling within him.

And then he fled— like a killer at a crime scene.

“Eddie! Wait- fuck!!” You curse, your hands finding your hair as you tug on the roots of the delicate strands. You are beyond stressed. All you can do is watch as Eddie weaves his way through the mosh pit of bodies who had all quickly gone back to dancing— like nothing had happened.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Steve blubbers next to you and you turn to him, your eyes widened with shock and distress but it doesn’t take long for your glare to become vexing.

“What did you do, Harrington?! If you weren’t already bleeding right now I would slap you in your goddamn face!” Your grip on him is scolding and hurried as you manage to help him down to rest on one of the wooden steps, your eyes unable to waver from the crimson leaking gash on his face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” His face rests in his hands as he breathes deeply, in through his nose and out through his mouth. And just as you prepare to give him a bollocking of a life time, Chrissy emerges from sanctuary of the top floor, desperately trying to rescuer her bra straps back onto your shoulders. Her clothes are twisted sloppily around her body and she, too, is undoubtedly, totally, 110% fucking hammered.

Both your and the blondes eyes meet and your lips pinch downwards into a frown. Your head shakes disapprovingly and your mind is clouded with nervy thoughts for Eddie’s wellbeing and all you can conjure up to say to the dishevelled woman is;

“How the fuck did this happened?”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae

[choszen]

★ — il capitano.

il capitano x florist! reader.

GENRE: smut.

WARNINGS: NSFW. capitano smut. masturbating. fantasizing.

SYPNOSIS: the fatui harbinger, il capitano, had been visiting the flower shop for months now. he never engaged in small talks with you, only scanning the selection of flowers in sight, and only coming by to buy bouquets of flowers. whenever you would hand him the arrangements, he would place a lot of mora on the table and would take his leave in urgency. you often found yourself wondering why never speaks, and why he always appeared to be in a hurry.

MINORS DNI ❕

CAPITANO was in haze. looking deep into those angel eyes was dangerous, especially when the said eyes were shining so brightly. it sent butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach, however, the captain couldn't find it within himself to look away. he didn't even want to. he felt as if his soul had been trapped in this angel's eyes forever, and that the angel was holding him captive with just a look.

“good morning, captain. you're here again!” you smiled, “which flower will you buy today? the usual? we have many lovely ones at our store.” your voice was like the music of angels, it was as melodic as the singing angels.

the first among the eleven fatui harbingers, a god amongst men, his name alone was enough to cause fear in everyone who heard it. so, why aren't you afraid of him? why aren't you shaking in fear? why don't you cower under his power? why are you staring at him with a soft smile that graced your face? what makes you believe that you can be safe around him? no one can truly be safe from the harbingers. he could easily squash you between his fingers, he knows how, but he wouldn't... why should he? he doesn't intended to hurt a girl like you, he has other things planned for you that would bring him joy. “... peonies, and lilies.” capitano spoke, voice low.

his eyes, dark and intense, tracked your every movement like a predator hunting its prey. each subtle shift of your form sent ripples through his composure, and he could feel his fist clenching tightly, the knuckles whitening as he battled against the rising tide of his desires. his control over his desires had always been difficult to come by. in the depths of his mind, the captain wonders how you'll scream his name out loud, how he will feel when he finally have his member inside of you. your body is meant for him, only his. the more he observed the way your casual clothes hugged your body, the more his thoughts wonders on how you will look without those, however, capitano pushed these these thoughts aside before they grow any bigger. now is not the time nor place for such thoughts.

“we're very lucky that you're visiting our humble shop. here are your peonies, and lilies.”

as capitano placed the stack of coins upon the counter, he didn't spare a single glance at you, his urgency propelling him swiftly away from the moment away from you. upon reaching his office, he slammed the door shut with a resounding thud, locking the door behind, ad immediately sank into the embrace of his desk chair. he leaned his forehead against his palm once he placed his helmet at the table. your scent, mixed with a sweet and delicate perfume was still lingering on his nose. the sound of your laughter still echoes in his ears, the way you smiled at him, the sound of your voice, everything about you captivated his senses as his breath hitched with desire. he wanted you to be the one to quench his flames– his growing desire.

there was a painful erection underneath the pants that he wore. he needed to relieve the pressure, the ache that was building up inside of him, and it wasn't long before capitano's hands began to fumble with his belt and once he unzipped his pants, the impressive bulge that grew more beneath his underwear was revealed. he couldn't hold himself anymore. he had spent so much time working on getting his arousal under control, yet, there it was, begging to be taken care off. ah, you should be the one pleasuring him right now, not himself. the point of his dick— his tip, kicked his stomach when he recalled your sweet scent, the way your hands brushed on his when you handed the bouquet. his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. he couldn't even tell whether he wanted to cry or laugh at the same time. his cock pulsated, growing harder and harder with every passing moment he was left alone with his thoughts.

can you even handle him? will he even fit inside you? his body is huge, his length is immense. he was big. he knows you can take him, capitano's length is for you to take only. his cock was veiny, twitching and already dripping with pre-cum as it was waiting to be touched. the thought of wrapping your lips around his cock made his mouth fell, his chest moving up and down, and sweats appearing on his forehead. he had never felt so aroused before but at the same time his hands were clammy, shaking and itching to touch himself now. the sudden feelings of capitano's fingers in his dick caused him to let out a small groan, there was a mixture of excitement and arousal flowing in him right now and all he could think of was you.

capitano had his head rolled back with a slight groans escaping through his lips, it has been a long time since he felt this pleasure again as he wrapped his lengthy digits on his cock, moving up and down in such pace. “ah~” he breathed softly, the sight of him stroking himself had turned him into a horny animal. he gripped onto his cock tightly and increased his movements, moving his fingers faster while moaning louder than usual. “t-the things... you do to me... y/n..” capitano mumbled between moans, brows ceased in arousal as he continued to stroke his cock with his thick calloused fingers. in that moment, the captain longed for your hands to caress him, fantasizing your gentle fingertips running over his warm flesh. how divine it would be to give in to your warmth, and feel your soft touch engulfing him in a cocoon of comfort and intimacy. the mere thought of your hands wrapped around his length, ignited a longing desire within him. what a relief it would be, to trade the solitude of his own touch for the blissful sensation of your fingertips.

his eyes rolled back in sheer ecstasy, each moan escaped his lips and grew louder, louder, louder. the captain's head fell heavily onto the polished table, his hands still clenching fiercely around his throbbing member, as if that grip could tether him to the world of sanity. no people should ever come close to making capitano cum so hard, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson. the throbbing sensation that came with each hard and fast stroke, coupled with the increasing heat spreading throughout his whole body. “ah~ y/n... what did you do to me..?” the captain moaned aloud, his voice whiny from the intensity of his pleas. his face, once nonchalant, was now covered in shades of crimson. capitano’s mouth were open, moans and hot breath coming out. there were beads of sweat cascading down his forehead. his eyes rolled back in bliss at the overwhelming pleasure wrapped around him. he was utterly lost, unable to contain the soft whimpers and loud moans escaping his lips.

it didn't matter to capitano that the noise might alert others. his heart was beating like crazy, the feeling of being being inside you, your soft walls, made him lose all restraint on his self and he was whispering your name. capitano had never felt anything like it before. he knew you were the reason for his desire but the idea of telling you that, of showing you his love and passion, seemed too impossible and unreal. “m-my dear angel... forgive me for fantasizing about you...” his words sounded so weak. capitano closed his eyes in pure bliss. “let me make amends for my sins, my angel. please...” he begged, opening his eyes only a slit. the captain's fist were now full of cum as he stroked his shaft over and over again, his breath haggard and his chest heaving. he was going crazy and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing to distract him from the feeling coursing through his veins and setting him ablaze from the inside.

capitano could feel his climax approaching and his breathing became heavier and quicker. “...fuck..” he gasped, closing his eyes as he pushed against himself with his fist. “i will make you mine... y/n, my angel..” his legs trembled, his muscles twitched, his teeth were clenched. his eyes drifted shut as he surrendered his cock to the sensations of his own juices leaking down his member and fingers. he didn't know how long he had been doing this, but his body betrayed his exhaustion.

he stared at his swollen cock, and his own cum, watching the last few drops of cum dripping out of the top before it fell on his lap. what a waste. you should've been here to swallow all of it, to taste the most succulent thing that he had been saving for you, to taste every drop of it. he wanted to see your pretty mouth devouring the liquid substance of his own ejaculation.

[nemesyaaa]

buffalo 66' au ! old!serial killer!rafe x young!sugardoll!reader. moodboard & aesthetic only ! (not a fic please !)

you were a young doll stucked in your baby blues shades world, who was born to fall into old men traps. and this one was an old serial killer who made you a missing girl in your small town.

you adored him like he was the only god in the world. and you even started to believe that when he kidnapped you it was not a crime but intimacy.

you were a young crybaby, a babydoll full of tears, with a sweet white and blue soul, pure as heaven, and soft as clouds. you wanted nothing more than to be the wife of the old daddy with dirty bloody hands that can kill for you, but never hurts you.

“ i just wanted you to know that i think you're the sweetest guy in the world. and the most handsome. i love you. ”

you were to him the innocence he never had, the peace he wanted to hold forever. you were his little girl.

“ i will be very sad if you don't come back. just tell me, don't lie to me.”

“ you adore me, you love me, you cherish me, jesus christ you can't live without me”

“ i'm gonna step out of the car for one minute. one minute, i'm gonna step out. put your hands on the dashboard like that. hold 'em like that. don't let me see you move them one finger, not one finger move, not one twitch of a move or i'll come back and choke you to death. i swear to god, don't move, little girl. i can put a gun on your angel face, and blood on your pretty tears. ”

“ do you still think i'm the sweetest guy in the world ?" " yes, always. can i hug you now ?"

tadouuum !!! hbddd @bunnyrafe <333 (i'm 'ot so so proud of it but wish you like it) + @fae-of-prey thx to make me think of it

[pin-k-ink]

precious // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ hoshina being an overprotective hubby, mentions of complications during childbirth, mentions of injuries, unplanned pregnancy, lactation kink, nipple play, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, semi public sex, squirting

wc ⇢ 6.8k

Your breath hitched in your throat as Hoshina crowded you against the bedroom door, his powerful frame bracketing you in with sinewy arms planted on either side of your head in an inescapable cage.

"Ya sure about this, baby girl?" he rasped, leaning down to ghost his lips across the thundering pulse at your throat. "Goin' back out into the field so soon after..."

He trailed off, throat bobbing with a convulsive swallow as he fought to keep the emotions off his face. You knew what he struggled not to voice - the reminder that it had been barely over a year since your last combat deployment...when you spent those endless, agonizing hours birthing his child in the medical ward.

Raising one hand, you traced the hard line of Hoshina’s jaw until he finally tilted his stare back to meet yours fully. The look of naked worry shining through those indigo depths made your chest constrict sharply. This was the man who had nearly torn the entire base apart searching for you that fateful night, convinced something catastrophic had unfolded after the readings from your suit went haywire.

Only to find you safely secured behind lockdown, laboring to bring his daughter into the world despite the field medics' best efforts to whisk you away at the first sign of complication. You still remembered the haunted awe etched across Hoshina’s chiseled features when he finally burst through, coated in sand and viscera but somehow the most beautiful sight you'd ever laid eyes on.

With Setsuko bundled in one arm, he had dropped to his knees at your bedside and gathered you both against his heaving chest in a rib-creaking embrace, lips mapping every inch of exposed skin between ragged apologies and feverish gratitude. As if you were both incredibly precious gemstones he'd nearly lost to the relentless hunger of this world's darkness before reclaiming at the last possible second.

You would never forget that moment as long as you lived - the reminder of just how easy it could all be snatched away in the blink of an eye. Which was precisely why you were so adamant about cutting the suffocating, overprotective tethers Hoshina had woven around you both in the aftermath and reclaiming your duties as a combat officer.

"Soshiro..." you murmured, palming his cheek firmly to hold his gaze as your other hand drifted down to press over the soft plane of your abdomen. "My body is healed, and Setsu is thriving. You can't keep us locked away forever out of some misguided sense of duty."

A muscle ticked in Hoshina’s jaw, the stark truth of your words resonating through that stubborn cavern of protective instincts still screaming to shield his family at any cost. You could practically see the battle raging across his features as he grappled with acknowledging your self-determination versus the compulsive need to snap you both back behind reinforced barriers until the end of days if he had his way.

"I almost lost ya," he gritted out at last, the hushed rasp of anguish bleeding through more vulnerability than Hoshina would ever dare allow any soul besides you to witness. "Sittin' there helpless while yer vital signs went haywire, wonderin' if I'd get to hold ya one last time before—"

You cut off the words with a decisive shake of your head, fingers slanting across his lips to halt the destructive path he would undoubtedly travel down given half the chance. "But you didn't lose me," you stated with steely certainty. "And I'll be damned if you or anyone else tries to treat me like a porcelain doll now that—"

"I don't think ya understand exactly what that night did to me," Hoshina interjected, a sudden ferocity burning behind his eyes as he trapped your wrist with one massive hand.

In the same motion, he hauled you flush against the rigid wall of his chest, tangling his free hand into your hair to cant your head back at an angle that bared your throat completely to his roving stare. You couldn't help the trembling full-body shudder that rippled through you as he leaned down to brush parted lips across your overheated skin.

"Do you have any idea how close ya came to bleedin' out 'fore I got there?" he rumbled against your thundering pulse in a tone made of smoke and sin. "What seein' ya like that, hearing the panic in the medics' voices about 'fadin' vitals' and possible hemor—"

His words fractured into a raw, wounded keen stifled against the juncture of your neck and shoulder. You wove your hands through his soft ink-dark locks, cradling him close as the powerful frame you adored more than life itself trembled with the force of his anguished recollections for several drawn-out beats.

When Hoshina finally regained some semblance of his renowned composure, you felt an undisguised press of wetness smear across your scorching skin. He drew back just enough to bore straight into your eyes, his own glassy and ringed with reddened fatigue no amount of bluster could fully mask.

"Ya don't get it, [Y/N]..." Hoshina growled in a wrecked rasp that seemed torn from the very depths of his psyche. "In that moment, there was nothin' - not the kaijiu threat, not the entire fuckin' war...not a damn thing that could have stopped me from slaughterin' anyone or anything to reach yer side when—"

His throat convulsed sharply as he visibly wrestled the rest of his confession into viselike submission. When he continued, it was in a lower, rawer octave that sent tingles of primal awareness skittering across your nerves.

"You and Setsuko are my entire universe, baby girl. My reason to keep endurin' this hell and clawin' my way back home to you both time after time. So you'll damn well forgive me for doing everythin' possible to keep my precious treasures safe and untarnished..."

With that, Hoshina yanked you forward again until you were once more plastered flush against that furnace of sinewy power and virile strength. This time he buried his face against the fragrant spill of your hair, drawing in heady lungfuls of your familiar scent as if drowning.

"I'm not ready to lose ya, sweetheart..." he rasped in a desperate, muffled whisper. "Even if it pisses ya off, even if ya hate me for it...I'll still do everythin' in my power to keep ya both sheltered from harm. It's the only way I can keep breathin'."

The raw agony and stark vulnerability driving those hushed words lanced straight through you. Without hesitation, you curved your arms around Hoshina’s torso in a grounding embrace and nuzzled your face against his heaving chest. Beneath your cheek you could feel the jackhammer cadence of his heart pounding, the visceral echo of just how profoundly this entire situation had shaken his foundations.

For long stretches, you simply swayed in concert while murmuring wordless reassurances and nonsense endearments into the charged stillness. The lulling rise and fall of your joined bodies gradually lulled Hoshina back from whatever haunted precipice his mind had been teetering over.

At last you felt the rigid tension slowly begin to unspool from his corded muscles, the fractures of his trademark ease and command settling back into place like tectonic faultlines. Hoshina let out a quavering sigh, warm breath stirring the fine hairs along your nape just before his lips found your crown in a lingering caress.

"I know," he rumbled at last, hoarse rasp reverberated against your sensitive whorls. "Pretty big fuckin' ask for a hardass like me to just rip those protective shackles off so easily."

You couldn't help the helpless little giggle that slipped free at his self-deprecating gruffness. Tilting your head back, you slanted your mouth across Hoshina’s in a deep, searching kiss that quickly stole both your breaths in its heated wake.

When you finally resurfaced, it was to find his indigo irises hooded to thin slivers of banked intensity - black fire flickering hungrily beneath those fanned lashes as he drank in your glazed expression and slick, swollen lips.

"Just promise me one thing, baby girl..." Hoshiro practically purred in a deliciously sinful cadence far removed from the impassioned pleas just moments ago. His tongue swept out to capture the tang of your lipgloss with delicate, purposeful relish. "Keep yer proximity protocols limited to long range fire support and recon sweeps only. I get even a whisper ya tried pulling some heroine bullshit out on the front lines..."

His grip on your jaw tightened fractionally, fingertips imprinting delicious brands of possession that made you squirm with visceral awareness. "And I'll make absolutely certain ya spend our next reunion face down and ass up over my knee. Understood?"

You could only whimper a breathless, mewling assent that seemed to stroke those banked flames behind Hoshina’s eyes into twin pillars of searing azure.

"Good girl..." he growled in blatant satisfaction before slanting his mouth over yours once more, all silken heat and scorching dominance.

Hoshina’s deep, rumbling laughter echoed through the spacious nursery as he tickled Setsuko's tummy, drinking in her tinkling peals of delight. The simple act of playing with his precious daughter was one of the few reprieves that could completely untether him from the relentless shadows of combat for however brief the respite.

"Again, Daddy! More tickles!" she squealed breathlessly between giggles, violet eyes sparking with unrestrained mirth.

Unable to resist those imploring looks - so reminiscent of her mother's own persuasive stares - Hoshina obliged with another flurry of gentle raspberries blown against Setsuko's downy soft skin. Her chubby features scrunched up in fresh mirth, tiny fists swatting at him playfully as she squirmed in his lap.

For those fleeting moments, the rest of the war-torn world beyond these secure walls faded into blessed white noise. There was only the simplicity of his baby girl's joy, her infectious laughter coaxing matching rumbles of contentment from Hoshina’s depths. A reprieve from the endless grind of violence and ugliness he willingly shouldered to safeguard these infinitely precious moments.

As Setsuko finally began winding down to breathless hiccups and intermittent giggles, Hoshina felt his attention drifting despite his best efforts. Suddenly his mind began replaying those last images of you suiting up for deployment earlier. The way your suit had molded to every lush, feminine curve like a second skin, practically searing the outlines of your form into his mind.

He remembered the intoxicating scent of your floral shampoo caressing his senses as you passed by for final munitions check. How your fingers had trailed along the chiseled ridges of his arm and shoulder in an unconscious caress, sending tendrils of scorching need licking through his veins. Most of all, Hoshina recollected the look of quiet determination blazing behind those luminous irises - the promise that you would indeed uphold his conditions out in the field this time.

With some difficulty, he managed to wrestle his thoughts back to the present as Setsuko twisted in his embrace, nosing insistently at the window. "Daddy, look! Trucks coming! Mommy's home now?"

Her words lanced straight through the heated reverie clouding Hoshina’s consciousness like a splash of ice water. Immediately, every paternal instinct snapped into laserlike vigil, gaze narrowing at the unmistakable rumble of armored transports entering the compound.

Carefully, he untangled Setsuko from his lap and rose in a single smooth motion to cross the nursery. "C'mon, kiddo, let's get ya settled with Miss Tomi again for a bit, 'kay? I'll bring Mommy up to say goodnight once she's finished her debrief."

It was only after ensuring his daughter was transferred into her caretaker's custody that Hoshina allowed his brisk strides to eat up the hallway distances towards the arrival hangar. Despite his lingering reservations and misgivings, you were still a consummate soldier and enforcer of duty. Which meant protocol dictated you would report directly to Captain Ashiro upon returning rather than seeking him out first.

As expected, the residential wing corridors were vacant, nothing but the baseline echoes of the facility's equipment and climate control systems. No sign of you just yet, likely still undergoing post-mission triage and data offloading. With a grunt, Hoshina altered course towards the Operation Room where he was certain to find you eventually.

Sure enough, as the familiar open atrium came into view, Hoshiro picked up the unmistakable form of Okonogi already stationed by the monitor. She seemed...twitchy, if the constant fidgeting and shifting of her weight was any indication. More than once, her gaze flicked nervously towards the double-wide access doors as another incoming group filtered inside, only to snap back with clear avoidance when she spotted Hoshina’s looming silhouette.

Curiosity rapidly morphing into heightened suspicion, Hoshina angled his approach to intercept the young operations leader before she could make any hasty retreats. "Okonogi-chan," he said in greeting as she started guiltily. "Everythin' okay?"

Her cheeks flushed an even darker umber shade as she swallowed hard, clearly striving to regain some composure under Hoshina’s hard stare. "V-Vice Captain Hoshina! I was just, um, waiting for the debriefing t-to...that is, I mean..."

Trailing off pathetically, Okonogi shot one more wild-eyed glance over her shoulder, as if praying another distraction might materialize to spirit her away from this interrogation. No such salvation came, however, so she slumped with a tiny sigh before pivoting to fully face him.

"The truth is...Platoon Leader [L/N]— uh, Hoshina experienced a medical incident during today's mission," she managed to rasp out without quite meeting Hoshina’s gaze squarely. "She...collapsed in the middle of the kaiju engagement before her platoon could neutralize the threat."

For one suspended beat, all the ambient systems noise and distant voices faded into hollow static around Hoshina’s consciousness. Then a roaring, lancing pressure began expanding inside his skull as the implications took root and sprouted into a torrent of nightmare visions.

You collapsing amidst rubble and viscera, camera feed whiting out with nothing but bursts of interference...hissing emergency channels shouting about unstable vitals and internal hemorrhaging...the empty, agonizing silence that would follow if he lost the other half of his reason for living...

By the time Hoshina regained control over his body and lungs, Okonogi had already instinctively staggered back several paces with eyes widened in trepidation. Whether it was the rictus glare he leveled in her direction or the barely sublimated snarl reverberated through his chest, she clearly realized just how deeply the news gored his core.

"What. Happened," he grated out in a tone made of jagged obsidian and gritted glass. Each syllable seemed to flay away another shred of Okonogi's composure, leaving her bobbing in visible terror under his stormy scrutiny.

"She—she didn't sustain any injuries as far as the readings from her suit indicate," the girl managed in a breathless tumble of words, eyes still averted deferentially. "Platoon Leader Hoshina's condition was stabilized en route, and she regained consciousness before the transport returned to—"

A dismissive snarl ripped free from Hoshina’s chest before he realized it, sending Okonogi physically flinching with a whimper. He didn't have the patience or wherewithal to deconstruct her clinical details - not with a million shrieking demons howling in his mind all painting the same chilling canvas.

You lying motionless and bloodied, skin waxen beneath your combat suit...those vibrant eyes dimmed to soulless pits staring back at him in vacant accusation. All because he allowed himself to indulge your foolish, self-destructive whims by easing his protection despite every primal instinct lighting up like solar flares.

Barely cognizant of his actions, Hoshina pivoted sharply and began stalking towards the medbay with ground-eating strides. He needed to see you whole and breathing with his own two eyes, hear your voice lance through the maelstrom of torment roiling through his thoughts. Nothing else would ever be enough to exorcise the demons until he could physically inhere every detail to memory once more.

"V-Vice Captain!" Okonogi called out faintly behind him, voice wavering between obligation and self-preservation. "I have to insist you wait until Captain—"

"I don't take orders from you," Hoshina snarled over his shoulder without breaking stride, every fiber of his being now a missile locked onto its solitary target.

Finding you, holding you, ensuring your wellbeing with his own senses...this was the only imperative that registered anymore. If anyone tried barring his path, they would simply become another obstacle to be neutralized without mercy or hesitation.

With the medical ward’s towering threshold now looming ahead, Hoshina braced inwardly for whatever maelstrom of emotions awaited him just beyond that point. Either he was about to eclipse into divine rapture at finding you still whole and resilient in defiance of the odds...

Or he was descending irrevocably into a personal hell from which there could be no climbing back this time.

Hoshina burst through the medical wing's reinforced hatches like a vengeful hurricane unleashed. Several staffers in white lab coats startled and backpedaled at his sudden, explosive arrival, eyes widening at the thunderous expression twisting his features.

"Where is she? My wife! Platoon Leader Hoshina. Where is she?!" he snarled without preamble, stalking further into the sterile chamber with forearms already coiled for confrontation. "If any of ya valued yer lives, you'd tell me where—"

The venomous threat fractured in the back of his throat as a familiar, melodious giggle drifted through the air - your giggle, distinct and infinitely precious. Hoshina’s chest seized with such force he nearly staggered, every previous thought and raging instinct funneling to that single point where the gentle peal had originated from.

Whipping his head around with near-violent intensity, his gaze finally locked upon your form seated atop one of the beds. You were framed in profile, backlit by the crisp fluorescents and laughing at something the attending medic hovered beside you had said. To Hoshina, you may as well have been haloed by celestial radiance itself.

Before conscious thought could fully reassert itself, his legs were already carryining him forward in a smooth, prowling gait - a wolf homing in on the mate it had scented from miles away. He reached your side just as your giggles tapered off into sporadic chuckles, mouth still curved in that radiant smile he had convinced himself mere moments ago may never grace his world again.

Then you noticed his presence at your side, eyes widening fractionally before crinkling at the corners as a fresh smile bloomed across your features. "Well hey there, big—oof!"

The attempted greeting dissolved into a breathless exhalation as Hoshina enveloped you in his arms, crushing your frame against his chest so tightly it stole all remaining oxygen. Not that he could bring himself to loosen his grip in the slightest at feeling your solid warmth, the unrelenting cadence of your heartbeat thumping against his sternum in vivid tandem with his own thundering pulses.

"Idiot..." he rasped out in a devastated keen muffled against the crown of your head, throat convulsing with stifled emotion. Emotion that thrashed and roiled within like a snarling tempest barely bound, demanding cathartic release in any way he could physically pour himself into you. "You beautiful, infuriatin', ridiculous idiot..."

He could feel the perplexed quirk of your brow against the fevered skin of his neck as you craned your head back slightly, attempting to put distance between you so he could drink in the full force of your searching stare. Hoshina didn't allow it - couldn't bear the thought of a single inch separating your bodies even for an instant after nearly being rent asunder by loss.

So instead, he gathered you even closer into the protective, unyielding circle of his embrace with a minute adjustment, until you were practically molded into the solid ridges and hard planes of his body down to the last degree. With his nose buried in your fragrant hair, Hoshina simply stood there quaking for several agonizing moments, drinking in every infinitesimal detail like a dying man gulping at a desert oasis while he could.

Until finally you stirred again and his name emerged in that soothing alto lullaby he adored, now ribboned through layers of fond exasperation and confusion. "Shiro...? Hey now, I'm alright, see? No need for my big bad soldier to fly off the handle on some poor doc who was only—"

You broke off into a muffled squeak as Hoshina abruptly yanked you even tighter, until the bones in your ribcage creaked ominously under the colossal forces binding you to him. "Shut up," he growled in a voice made of smoke, gravel, and something deeper...something fracturing along the hairline faultlines of his legendary restraint with each fresh recollection. "Just shut yer perfect mouth for one goddamn minute and let me..."

The gruff demand trailed off into stark silence as the white-knuckled intensity gripping Hoshina momentarily stole even his ability to verbalize his most primal needs. You seemed to sense the magnitude of his internal tides, though. Because rather than bristle at the brusque order, you simply relaxed your tense posture by increments and nestled closer into his sheltering bulk.

Long minutes were spent with you both swaying in minute shifts, simply existing within the shared space of respiration and mollified thunders slowing echoing against the medical pod's walls. Hoshina drowned in the familiar bouquet of your shampoo and bodily effluvium, savoring the unmistakable evidence that you were indeed whole, present, and gloriously undamaged in his embrace.

If you thought the way he had gathered you close before was intense, it was nothing compared to the scorching brand that ignited and seared straight through your core as he slanted his mouth over yours in a profound claim. Hoshina’s kiss was branded possession, smelted forges of banked heat contained behind that carefully metered exterior he always presented finally detonating in savage release.

Stars spun dizzily in your vision as his tongue swept past the seam of your lips in ferocious demand, pillaging everything in its path. Just as you were teetering towards delirium from the frenzied onslaught, feeling the familiar stirrings of arousal begin pooling between your thighs, a pointed ‘ahem’ broke the tension.

You both broke apart with audible gasps, Hoshina’s grip somehow tightening even further around your waist in a clear warning not to allow any space to linger. Together you pivoted towards the interruption to find one of the senior medics surveying you both in exasperated resignation. The woman's no-nonsense demeanor and arched brow brokered no argument as her mouth opened to deliver the verdict.

"Apologies for the, ah...delay , but I wanted to ensure we had a finalized diagnosis before debriefing Platoon Leader Hoshina's status," she intoned with a degree of deference that only applied to Hoshina’s rank rather than his outburst just moments ago.

The Vice Captain inclined his head a bare fraction, silently prompting the medic to continue now that she had his undivided focus. With another clipped sigh, she tapped her pen against data-tablet once before she held it out for the both of you.

You immediately recognized the anatomical schematic as your own physiology. And there, nestled and highlighted in diffusing aurora refractions...

You felt the breath stall in your lungs as you took in the undeniable second life signature nestled in pulsating tandem with your own heartbeat. Beside you, you sensed more than saw Hoshina go utterly motionless with the sole exception of his jugular hammering with steadily mounting intensity.

"It appears Platoon Leader Hoshina's loss of consciousness was induced by a combination of factors typical for approximately 8-12 week human gestation," the medic stated in clipped, clinical tones. "Increased hormone production, depleted plasma levels, intermittent vascular compliance...all of which manifested rather acutely while exerting continual strain."

She turned the anatomical display to reveal a progression of imaging scans highlighting your uterine area. Sure enough, cradled within the diffusing nebulae and heat-maps...an unmistakable fetal form beginning to take shape.

"Essentially, your physical ordeal seems to have triggered an extreme response which resulted in your body's rather dramatic effort to preserve the prenatal incubation environment amidst perceived duress conditions. A natural biological adaptation, if highly disruptive in this particular instance."

The explanation filtered only peripherally through the twin shock waves engulfing your reeling psyche. All you could see was the tiny, unmistakable shape huddled securely within those layers as if in silent defiance of your ignorance.

Pregnant. You were pregnant...with Hoshina’s child all over again.

Unconsciously, you felt your hand drifting towards the suddenly fraught terrain of your lower abdomen, fingers splaying over the subtle yet taut swell with quiet reverence. How had you missed something so monumentally life-altering? Beside you, Hoshina remained eerily statue-still save for the ragged hurricane of his breathing steadily intensifying until it thundered from his flared nostrils like a war drum cadence.

Then, without preamble or warning, your entire world shifted on its axis once more as he scooped you up crushingly close in a bizarre echo of his initial greeting. This time, however, there was none of the wild mania or single-minded desperation motivating his motions. Only a sort of quiet and profoundly stunned devotion rendering his powerful form inert as his broad palms mapped the slight swell of your abdomen almost reverently.

"Soshiro..." you breathed out around a throat thickened with emotion too visceral to articulate. "Are you...?"

"Hush now, pretty girl..." his words were a rolling rumble of molten gravel, smoky with naked awe. "No more talkin', not until yer husband has had his moment, yeah?"

With that gentle reverence, Hoshina tilted his brow against yours and simply...existed in rapt communion with the newly revealed secret you now cradled between your parallel stances. No protocols, no urgencies or crises beyond this singular miracle holding the whole of his universe in rapturous thrall.

Just he and you...plus the most precious addition of all.

Hoshina kept you cradled against his powerfully muscled frame even as he strode out of the medbay, one arm banded securely beneath your knees while the other splayed possessively above the brand-new swell of your abdomen. You watched the myriad expressions flicker across his chiseled features - naked awe, blazing possession, softening to tender reverence at each minuscule caress against the taut feminine swell...

"Should we go get Setsu?" you murmured at one point, already imagining the delight that would spark your daughter's face upon learning of her imminent promotion to big sisterhood. "I know she'll be thrilled to—"

"Already taken care of, baby girl," Hoshina interjected in a low, rumbling rasp without breaking stride. His indigo stare remained transfixed upon your midsection as if hypnotized. "Soon as I heard the news, my first call was ensurin' our girl would be looked after through the night."

You opened your mouth to question his meaning, only to go slack-jawed as realization sank in with molten intensity. ‘Through the night?’ Did Hoshina actually intend to...

The answering heat blazing in those indigo depths as he drank in your dawning comprehension was enough to scorch away any lingering doubts. You felt your breath hitch sharply, entire body flushing hot beneath Hoshina’s scorching stare. Suddenly you were arousingly, viscerally aware of the slight stretching heaviness confined beneath your taut bodysuit - your breasts tingling with new sensitivity, the unmistakable proof of life blossoming inside weighing you down with the most intoxicating sense of feminine appeal.

A flicker of Hoshina’s tongue swiping across his lower lip made your newly hypersensitive nerves throb in yearning. You squirmed instinctively against his embrace, thighs clenching in an unconscious attempt to alleviate the steadily mounting ache already pulsing in delirious demand between them.

Without needing to be prompted further, Hoshina sank into an easy crouch and deposited you on the nearest flat surface - a long, reinforced table usually reserved for tactical planning and readiness evaluation. The cool, sterile metal beneath your back made you gasp, suddenly arousal-ripened nipples peaking against the thin material in helpless reaction. But any feeble protests withered on your tongue as Hoshina’s calloused hands began roaming with unhurried, passionate focus every lush new curve and dimpled expanse his heated stare hungrily mapped out.

"Look how utterly sexy you've already gotten carryin' my child..." he rasped in a voice gone gravel-rough and honeyed with undisguised sin. One palm drifted up to knead and caress the generous swell of your breasts in tactile rapture. "So damn soft and absolutely made for givin' life..."

Despite the scorching frisson of need steadily mounting throughout your core, you somehow found the presence of mind to mouth a half-hearted objection. "Sh-Shiro, the door...we shouldn't—"

"Shh, shh...let me take care of my sweet girl," he husked out in that deep, resonant timbre that liquefied your bones. With his free hand splaying burning possession across your lower belly, Hoshina dipped his mouth to trail open, openmouthed kisses down the long elegant column of your throat. "Wouldn't want to waste a single second now that I've got ya all wet and riled up..."

His voice dropped into an octave of pure sin on that last word, every syllable seeming to lash synapses into feverish overdrive. You whimpered at the brand of his teeth scoring your thundering pulse, back arching instinctively into the delicious friction building between your bodies.

Not needing further encouragement, Hoshina set about divesting you of every last stitch of material separating his roving mouth and ravenous gaze from the delicious new swell of your figure. Within moments you were splayed in nude abandon, quivering with arousal and utterly hypnotized by the look of naked hunger blazing from his features.

"That's my good girl..." he purred in molten gravel against the hollow of your collarbone, free hand smoothing possessive claim down the newly defined curve of your hips and thighs. "Just lay back and let Daddy take his fill of this gorgeous little body...been far too long since I got to taste yer milk…or anythin' else for that matter."

The way his tongue slicked out to trace your areola in teasing, featherlight circles sent your brain into a tailspin. All thoughts of protest or resistance disintegrated into molten, visceral need. Especially as his mouth latched around your aching nipple and began suckling in languid, thorough draws, tongue flicking the straining peak in rhythmic pulses.

It was as if a floodgate of sensation had been unlocked by the sheer intimacy of his actions. Suddenly the pressure mounting between your thighs became unbearable, hips rocking forward instinctively to grind against Hoshina in an attempt to slake that growing, insatiable fire.

"So greedy for my mouth, aren't ya, baby girl..." he growled around a mouthful of breast, teeth grazing your swollen flesh as his free hand began kneading your neglected globe in firm, massaging motions. "Daddy's got plenty to give, no need to rush now..."

With a final lingering pull, Hoshina released your nipple with a sinful pop and leaned back just enough to admire the fresh evidence of his attentions. You felt your cheeks flood with molten heat as you watched him drink in the engorged, glistening state of your breasts, nipples puckered and aching in desperate need.

"Gorgeous..." he purred in a silken rasp of praise, free hand drifting lower to caress the sensitive hollows of your inner thigh. "Yer so fuckin' beautiful to me, mama, no wonder ya had my poor heart stopped earlier."

You were still attempting to process the heady mixture of arousal and raw emotion roiling through you when Hoshina leaned down to lap at the opposite breast. The sudden contact of his tongue circling the straining bud made your spine arch off the table in a breathless arc, fingers clawing for purchase against his muscled shoulders.

"Fuck! Shiro, please, I can't—!"

Your desperate pleas fractured into a mewling cry as he sealed his lips around your nipple and suckled hard. At the same moment, his free hand groped a handful of your other breast and squeezed, just hard enough to make your milk spurt forth in an erotic spray.

Hoshina growled around a mouthful of creamy liquid, drinking deep as if he was the one teetering on the edge of madness and not you. His eyes flicked up to lock with your own, searing irises smoldering with such unrelenting focus the air seemed to sizzle between you.

"So damn gorgeous when ya feed me like this, mama'," he rumbled in a voice made of sin and dark promises. His grip on your breast tightened fractionally, coaxing another jet of rich milk. "Gonna spend the rest of my days breedin' ya over and over so you'll never run dry for Daddy..."

With a final swipe of his tongue, Hoshina straightened and drew the back of his hand across his glistening lips, savoring the remnants. For several suspended moments he simply gazed down at your supine form, drinking in the sight with a level of intensity that made you flush with heat and shyness.

Then his palm skated possessively over the slope of your stomach, coming to rest atop the taut skin where a brand-new life had been kindled. A slow smile curved his lips as he rubbed his thumb in slow, circular caresses.

"Might even have to keep ya like this after this one's born, baby girl. Just stay nice and soft and full for Daddy..." he growled, fingers drifting to cup your swollen folds in a possessive grip. "Maybe then ya won't be so inclined to take off and play hero out there where yer not needed anymore, yeah?"

Your protests died a swift death on your tongue as Hoshina plunged one thick finger into the soaking heat of your pussy. With his free hand still resting atop your stomach, he began pumping with measured, languid strokes - his gaze locked unblinkingly upon yours the entire time.

"That's right, my perfect little housewife..." he coaxed as your hips bucked in instinctive counterpoint, pussy clamping down with greedy demand. "Let Daddy take care of ya like this forever...ya won't even miss the battlefield once I get ya good and bred again as soon as this one's out."

"Shiro...oh, gods, please..." you moaned as his fingers began curling and scissoring in deliberate, unhurried motions, dragging against that most sensitive cluster of nerves deep inside.

"That's right, darlin'," Hoshina purred, bending low to nuzzle at the underside of your breast, lips skimming across the supple flesh. "Ya just lay back and let Daddy do the hard work...keep my baby girl safe and cozy while I handle all the heavy liftin'."

Your hips bucked in frantic desperation as his mouth descended on your straining nipple once more, lips pursing to suckle in firm pulls. His free hand continued rubbing in gentle circles across your abdomen, while his fingers began pumping faster and harder between your thighs.

You could feel the pressure building behind a wall of sheer ecstasy, every muscle drawn taut and vibrating. Just as you began toppling into the abyss, Hoshina pulled his fingers free. You whined in protest, writhing for the friction he had stolen away.

"Please, Shiro, I need it..."

"Shh, easy now, mama," he murmured, shifting his body weight until he was fully settled between your thighs, arms banded on either side to brace his bulk. "Know what ya need better than yerself, remember? So just relax and let Daddy do his job, yeah?"

With a single smooth thrust, Hoshina hilted himself to the hilt inside your spasming core, eliciting a choked cry from the both of you. For several seconds, he remained motionless and shuddering, simply reveling in the sensation of being seated fully inside the slick heat he had claimed years ago.

"Holy shit, I thought it would be different," he groaned, forehead pressing against your own as his pelvis began rocking in a steady rhythm. "But yer still just as tight and hot for my cock as the first time I buried myself in ya, aren't ya, baby girl..."

You whimpered incoherently, hips rising to meet each driving stroke in delirious counterpoint. Hoshina growled in approval, increasing the tempo until the table rocked violently beneath the force of his thrusts. "Do ya remember? When ya tried playin' hard to get with me, thinkin' ya had the upper hand?"

As if in emphasis, he shifted his weight and began grinding his pelvis into yours in punishing, deliberate circles. Your cries pitched to a higher, keening note as the pressure built towards that glorious crescendo once more.

"Shoulda known…you were mine the moment I laid eyes on ya," Hoshina continued in a voice made of molten gravel. His eyes bore into yours with single-minded, searing intensity. "Shoulda fucked ya stupid right then and there...but I'll be damned if ya weren't worth the wait, baby girl'."

He punctuated his statement with a brutal snap of his hips that had you keening beneath him. Your entire world was narrowed down to the molten stretch of him inside you, the friction of his pubic bone grinding into your swollen clit, the overwhelming presence of his gaze burning you to ash with nothing but adoration.

"Love ya, mama...love ya so much I can't ever think straight whenever ya take off like that," Hoshina's voice cracked with emotion, fingers threading into your hair to angle your face up to his. "I'd do anything for ya...just don't ever make me live without ya, baby girl."

"I-I won't, I promise," you sobbed, overwhelmed with the intensity of his emotion, your own body teetering precariously on the razor's edge of release. "Please, Shiro, make me cum, need it so bad, please—"

He immediately rose to his full height, both hands gripping the generous swell of your hips and angling you at a steeper incline. Your legs instinctively hooked around his waist as his strokes became deep, savage pistoning - the new angle allowing his cock to strike all those tender spots inside you just perfectly.

"Cum for me, baby girl, wanna see ya soak my dick..." he gritted out, every corded muscle in his powerful frame flexing as he worked himself furiously in and out of your sopping core. "Let Daddy see that pretty pussy milk my cock, yeah?"

His fingers tightened into bruising crescents against your hips as the pace of his thrusts became increasingly ragged, a low groan building in the back of his throat. You felt his balls drawing up tight, his shaft swelling as the familiar pulsating throb began signaling the moment he could no longer hold back.

The moment you had him entirely, utterly, and irrevocably undone.

Your entire body went rigid, toes curling and spine arching as you crested over the edge into an inferno of blinding ecstasy. Hoshina snarled gutturally as your core spasmed, hot liquid spurting and gushing around his cock just as your tits sprayed another fountain of rich milk, splashing his chest.

"Holy—fuck! That’s the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen," he grunted, fingers digging into your hips to lock you into place as he drove himself to the hilt once, twice, and then held...

"Fuuuuck!" Hoshina bellowed, head thrown back in agonized rapture as his cock erupted inside you. Thick ropes of cum gushed into your still-convulsing depths, splashing the mouth of your womb with hot seed. You could feel him twitching, jerking, and pulsing as he pumped everything he had deep inside, until your pussy was thoroughly and completely drenched with his essence.

When the last shuddering spasm finally left him, Hoshina slumped forward with a groan, catching himself before he collapsed fully on top of your sated frame. Your legs remained tangled around his waist, both of you too blissfully spent to move for several long minutes.

After what felt like an eternity, you felt Hoshina stir above you, a satisfied hum reverberating deep in his chest. Cracking open one eye, you found his mouth curled in a lopsided grin of smug masculine satisfaction, gaze glimmering with pure adoration.

"I didn’t know you could do that," he rasped, eyes dipping to watch the way the last few rivulets of milk trailed in pearlescent streams down your breasts. "If I’d known all it took was some good, rough fuckin' to get ya squirtin' like that, I woulda done it sooner—"

"Shut up," you groaned, cheeks flooding with molten heat. Your hands flew up to cover your face as if they could hide your embarrassment, only to be stopped by the iron bar of Hoshina's forearm.

"Uh uh, no hidin' now, darlin'," he drawled with an easy smirk, leaning forward until his forehead brushed against yours. "Besides, no use being bashful now. I’ve seen all those filthy, gorgeous bits you were tryin' to hide..."

He punctuated his statement with an easy roll of his hips, causing a fresh wave of his seed to trickle from your swollen core and down the curve of your ass. You shuddered in delight, still feeling the aftershocks tingling through your limbs.

"And ya can bet yer pretty little ass I'm gonna see plenty more before the night is through, mama..."

[relia-robot-writes]

I am the Princess in the Tower.

You know, people hear that, and they say, "Oh, that poor Princess, she must be so lonesome up there. Some cruel fate must have befallen her, to be trapped so."

It's true, to a certain extent. I am lonesome. There's no shortage of princes and princesses - I have to wonder where they all come from - who come to try to rescue me from my captivity. None of them ever get particularly close, of course. The Tower is surrounded by a dark and tangled wood, monsters of flesh and stone stalk the grounds, invisible barriers and devious traps block all entry, and even if they got to the base of the Tower, they'd have to figure out how to climb up a sheer, frictionless vertical surface while automatically triggered fireballs rained down upon them... it's pretty well defended, is what I'm trying to say. Every single one of them gets sent packing, cursing the wizard who built the Tower and imprisoned me.

Which is, you know, pretty funny, when you get right down to it.

I mean, it's only natural to assume that, right? Wizards are mysterious, they pop in and out all the time. If one decides to suddenly vanish one day, well, he's probably just off calculating the angles of reality, or whatever, he'll be back. And if a girl appears in his Tower, well, of course he kidnapped a Princess for his own unfathomable wizard purposes.

It hardly matters that there aren't any kingdoms missing a Princess.

I don't correct them, anyway. It's safer for me if nobody knows who I am, or how I've changed. Safety was, after all, why I built the Tower in the first place. You think wizards do this for fun? Out in the middle of nowhere, forced to conjure food and water? Having to walk up and down twenty flights of stairs if I feel like going outside?

Wizards build towers when they are scared shitless.

See, I cast this divination spell when I was an apprentice, and I fucked it up. It constantly shows me visions of my own doom...

Not buying it?

Well, there was this devil, see, and I tricked him into thinking I'd signed my soul away, so now he stalks me forever, seeking vengeance through the very shadows themselves...

No good?

Well, I was cursed as a wee babe, and now all the world is my enemy, from the mightiest warrior to the softest blade of grass, and each one thirsts for my blood!

...I would have died to that one, like, immediately, huh.

Okay. Fine. I'm just... a coward. I built my Tower as far away from everything and everyone that could possibly do me harm as I could. I studied magic because it felt like the best way to avoid any and all hard work, conflict, and danger. I held off on telling anyone anything about who I truly was or what I wanted until I felt I could be absolutely safe.

And still, with "rescuers" at my door just waiting for my hand, I can't bear to look at them. The idea of one even getting close enough to attempt to climb the Tower (it's happened more than once) is terrifying. I could ask them to stop, but who would believe me? "Yes, I, the Princess in the Tower, am totes fine, please go away forever thanks, I am not an evil wizard." That'd go over well.

There's another princess that just made her way through the Woods and slayed one of my constructs. She'll be at the Tower base soon. She's got really pretty hair

I wish

I hope that you

Please don't

I'm writing this down here, and then I'm gonna go hide. If you're reading this,

The blue-armored princess flipped the paper over to the other side. It was blank. Her hair smoldered from the fireball she'd almost dodged, and she drummed her fingers on the hilt of her blade as she reread the first side. Aside from the paper, the room - and, indeed, the entire interior of the Tower - seemed completely empty.

[min-imum]

hi welcome to tumblr !! 💋 so, what if yn hugging gyu from the back while he wash the dishes and she decided to be 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂..

part 2 (afab!reader)

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: this was NOT as good as the first draft WHICH TUMBLR DELETED 😡, gn!reader, oral sex (m receiving & implied f receiving at the end), kitchen sex??, also i got too lazy to edit everything into the tiny text bcs im on my phone so erm. um. sorry. let me know if u prefer that layout AND ALSO if any kind soul could help me out with this i’ll love you forever

thank you 😋😋😋 and i agree, that would be so hot. you know mingyu works hard to take care of you — you’re his baby, and he’ll work forever if it means you get to buy all the things you want and live comfortably.

you’d planned to wash the dishes after dinner — after all, mingyu had gotten home and started making dinner right away, still wearing his work clothes — but as soon as you had gotten up, mingyu led you back to your seat with a “let me do it, baby, you sit and relax, yeah?” that you couldn’t refuse.

so, now, you sit at the dining table and watch mingyu scrub at the dishes diligently. the sleeves of his white button-up are rolled to his elbows. he grips the sponge in his left hand and a plate in his right, scrubbing at what seems to be an annoying stain.

you make your way to the kitchen and hug mingyu from behind.

“hi, baby,” he greets fondly, pausing his scrubbing as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“hi,” you mumble. “you take such good care of me. i’m so lucky to have you.”

“yeah?” he replies, amused.

you lean on his wide, warm back, and your hands start exploring. they slide under his shirt, tracing his abs, then make their way up higher to squeeze his pecs. he shudders when you brush his nipple with a thumb, nearly dropping the plate he was washing.

“baby, what are you doing?”

“thanking you,” you murmur. “it’s my turn to take care of you now.”

you feel up his chest for the first button of his shirt, then the next, and soon his shirt is falling open. with your newfound freedom, you run your hands all over his torso again, pinching at his nipples and groping his pecs shamelessly. the muscles on his back contract against your cheek.

he squirms, clutching the sponge tightly enough for the bubbles to overflow onto his hand. your hand snakes down, lower, to palm at his cock through his slacks.

he hisses, hips jerking forward, trapping your hand between him and the counter. “shit, babe,” he grunts.

“turn around f’me, please, gyu?”

he drops the sponge and plate into the sink and dries his hand on a towel, and then he turns around. “hi,” he breathes.

“hey,” you reply, smiling. he leans down to kiss you, once, twice, and then you drop to your knees and start unzipping his slacks.

the view from below is magnificent — his white shirt, open and hanging on his shoulders, frames his shaking body, abs contracting and big chest heaving. his eyes are dark, full of want and desire. his precum stains his grey underwear and leaves a dark spot that’s gradually getting bigger.

you mouth wetly at the spot, then up the length of his shaft, making him whimper.

finally, you decide to stop teasing. you pull his underwear down and his cock springs up, slapping against his stomach. he hisses when you lick and kiss the tip, wrapping your hands around the base.

then his hands fly to grip the edge of counter, white-knuckled, when you swallow his cock down as far as you can go.

you slurp and lick as much as you can, bobbing messily on his big cock, and he grunts and moans, spurring you on.

“shit, fuck,” he curses. “you’re— you’re gonna make me come so fast.”

you look up at him with wet eyes as you choke yourself on his cock. one hand strokes the rest of his cock that you can’t fit in your mouth; the other hand fondles his balls.

you love the view. on your knees with his warm cock stretching your throat open, you look up to see your muscled boyfriend covered in a thin sheen of sweat, mouth open as he pants, chest heaving almost painfully. his bangs fall into his eyes, which he struggles to keep open. his hold on the counter is unforgiving, like he’s worried his knees will give out, and it makes his biceps bulge in the sleeves of his shirt.

“i’m gonna cum,” he warns through gritted teeth.

you move your hands to grab his thick thighs, then force yourself to take him in deeper. you don’t manage to shove his entire cock into your throat — he’s just too big — but it only takes a few more thrusts for him to cum down your throat with a groan.

you swallow all of it, then open your mouth to show him.

“fuck, baby,” he curses. “you’re so filthy.”

he helps you onto your feet again, then sweeps you up in a passionate kiss. then, he lifts you onto the counter, helps you lean back, and spreads your thighs with a hand on each knee.

“your turn, baby.”

[pseudowho]

Red

Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.

*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*

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You felt sick to your stomach.

"They caught him. Did you hear?"

You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.

"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."

Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.

"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."

You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--

"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.

"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.

"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.

He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.

You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.

Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.

His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.

The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.

"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.

"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."

Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.

"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.

"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.

Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;

"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."

You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.

"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."

Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.

"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.

"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"

"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."

A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.

"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."

Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.

You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.

From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.

You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.

Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.

The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.

All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.

"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.

You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.

"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"

"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."

"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.

"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.

Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.

Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".

"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."

You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.

You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.

"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.

"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"

"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.

You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.

"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.

Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.

"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.

Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.

Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--

"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"

Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--

Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.

As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.

"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.

"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.

"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.

Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.

"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.

Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.

"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.

"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.

Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.

"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.

"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.

Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.

"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.

"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.

You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.

"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.

"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.

Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.

Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.

"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"

Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.

Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.

The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.

"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"

Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--

--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"

Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.

Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"

Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.

[khattikeri]

3zun is just so funny to me. it's so tasty.

you canonically have A Guy who got murdered barely at his mid-20s bc he shoved his ex down a flight of stairs and called him a son of a whore in a fit of anger and the ex got paranoid enough to go "alright that's fucking it he HAS to die". he's right to scream about his ex obviously planning on killing him, he's just wrong to assume his ex was always a crazy evil bitch and not, y'know, paranoid and upset at being shoved down a flight of stairs. c'est la vie.

you have Other Guy, the ex in question who got het married to his own half-sister because "too little too late the wedding's tomorrow and we already have a kid on the way, shit, her reputation will be ruined forever if i abandon her now and don't publicly explain why, fuck, guess i'll lie to her the rest of our lives" and that's not even the tip of the iceberg of crimes and other unfortunate follies he's willing to commit in the name of status and personal safety. he murders and dismembers the First Guy and keeps the body's head in his fun little mirror closet. he talks to it now and then. just girly things.

you have The Final Guy, who happens to love both of these batshit individuals and refuses to 100% side with or denounce either of them, or even really investigate the shit they're claiming about each other, which pisses them both off and leaves everyone in varying levels of unhappiness and distress. he recognizes the First Guy's disembodied chest by musculature alone. he and Other Guy lovingly eye-fuck for nearly two full decades before he realizes Other Guy murdered First Guy and lied about it. he is tricked into stabbing Other Guy and goes into self-imposed indefinite solitary confinement over it while his two partners' souls and zombified bodies are trapped together in a coffin doomed to torment each other for over a century.

amazing and quirky of them, you have to admit.