#blasphemy cw i guess

[trlvsn]

obsessed with ace attorney fanart posts from like 2020 that say "late to the party" or something like that. i am out there in the year of our lord and souvenir however you say it 2023 enjoying the lawyers shamelessly while i'm faking my psychological experiment results for the second time this semester. the latter is also done shamelessly whoops

[mcondance]

easter memes are so funny like what

[sonippep-hohu]

I can't believe you only like the Peppino fakers /j /silly

NOOOO!! THIS IS NOT TRUE!! I LOVE PEPPINO SPAGHETTI THE OG PLEASE!!

[lazyjellyfish300]

merriment shrine 🎄⛩️

synopsis: you're the newest concubine in Lord Sukuna's household and the object of his unrelenting ruminations (or is it desire?). When Uraume tasks you with being in charge of the Christmas festivities while Sukuna is away, you can only hope you'll deliver. What could go wrong? 🎄 largely inspired by this fic by @/sttoru 💕 words: 7.5k

cw: minors dni, x FEM!READER(Yuri), concubines, smut(p in v, double penetration(not too detailed), monster sex? I guess bc true form!Sukuna sex is not normal sex, oral f and m receiving, titty fucking, degradation, creampie(not too detailed), cum eating), violence, blood, Sukuna is a warning on his own, true form!Sukuna, SUKUNA HAS BEEF WITH BABY JESUS. MOCKING OF RELIGION/BLASPHEMY (PLS DONT READ IF THAT BOTHERS YOU. IT'S SUKUNA FFS) decapitation, bullying, heian era but it's all over the place historically and NOT accurate. angst, fluff, crack

a/n: For the secret Santa fic exchange event by @nanamiscocksleeve written for @heian-era-housewife ! I deeply apologize for the late entry! I was very intimidated writing for him for the first time but I hope you like it. 😩🎅🏽🎄💕 Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!✨

my holiday smut masterlist 🎄

dividers by @/saradika-graphics. pics from pinterest

You mused peacefully as you took in the gentle dance of snowflakes outside your chamber windows, thinking if you squinted hard enough you could make out the intricate shape of each one before they landed silently on the thin dusty layer of those that fell before on the undisturbed gardens.

You hugged your kimono a little tighter around you as you sipped your tea you had laced with some ginger and cinnamon, much to the confusion of the cooks in the kitchen. The distant glare of the fireplace bestowed a soothing warmth that kept you locked in place.

Since you arrived, it quickly became no secret that you, the newest concubine to join the harem under the formidable king of curses, brought with you a peculiarity. Certain quirks that endeared you to the servants and annoyed the other concubines.

You emitted a humble air about you like the shades of aqua and seafoam green you gravitated towards. You often opted for untouched corners of the garden next to the pond and the library where you could read and write in solitude that became mistaken for arrogance by the others.

And for whatever reason or another, you insisted on this...holiday business or whatever the hell you called it, gently humming those insufferable tunes under your breath that carried though the marble hallways and adorning your room in makeshift tinsel and boughs of holly you strung together from stray pieces of greenery you found by the koi pond.

It was a very frustrating type of conundrum Sukuna didn't appreciate that was causing ripples in his vast household, especially now, as he studies you from his neighboring window on the opposite side of the estate, stroking his chin, eyes narrowed.

"My Lord." Uraume bows as their smaller frame appears in his doorway.

"Speak." Sukuna responds, not tearing those eyes of a deep rose away from where you were perched in your window, a pointed black claw gently scratching the sharp ridge of his jaw in deep thought.

"I need to know of your plans for the winter feast preparations."

"What of it?" Sukuna answers coldly.

Uraume doesn't flinch, being all too familiar with Sukuna's temperament. They knew he would rather fork out his eyeballs than waste time with frivolous matters like festive planning. Too reminiscent of the folly those disgusting humans preoccupied themselves with.

But, Uraume also knew the blind fury that would await them should they make arrangements for anything impacting the routine functions of Sukuna's household without his knowledge.

"A proposal, my lord." Uraume continues calmly. "Since we are not expecting your grace's presence until the 24th, perhaps we leave the bulk of the planning to someone else?"

Sukuna scoffed. "And who would that be?"

"One of the concubines."

"Who? He asks, slight incredulity now mixed in his sternness. "Her?"

"She...brings a new set of traditions."

"I am aware, I was not born yesterday."

"...I thought his majesty would appreciate-"

"Appreciate? Uraume, do not speak foolishly." Sukuna scolded, now fully turned to face them, his two upper muscular arms folded across his body.

Uraume merely stayed where they were, silent, undemonstrative of any reaction which they knew Sukuna preferred while he strode about the room, beginning to pace.

Finally, Sukuna came to a stop. "So be it. As long as I am not to be trifled with such matters again until my return, I do not care what the little brat does."

He paused, his expression unmoving as he addresses them one more time. "I have the most trust in your judgement, Uraume. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, my Lord." Uraume bows again as Sukuna takes his leave, but not before eyeing you one more lingering glance before he departs, a shred of annoyance when he realizes despite the distance, he wouldn't be rid of you from his thoughts anytime soon.

-----

"My lady." Uraume addresses you from your doorway and you stand abruptly, bowing in acknowledgement.

"Uraume, good to see you."

"Thank you." Uraume answers pleasantly, a slight inflection in their tone carrying a fondness at your usual kindness towards them.

Although you were aloof, odd, and provided more than an earful that Uraume had to bear witness to from the other concubines, at least you treated them respectfully, unlike them.

"Lord Sukuna has departed on business with no plans to return until the 24th."

You stood up slowly, quirking a curious brow at the unexpected news.

"It is tradition that his grace hosts a feast for the winter solstice." Uraume explains. "To usher in the cold season and provide festivities. But, due to his absence, we are in need of someone to make arrangements..." Uraume clears their throat, clearly a little nervous at what your response will be, since the success of it was mostly riding on your willingness to participate.

"Would you be willing to lead the preparations, my lady?"

Silence hangs in mid air before you speak. "Me?"

"Of course." Uraume hums. "I don't doubt you'll be more than capable. I, along with many others, have noticed you celebrating this-Christmas? You call it?"

"Yes, that's right." You straighten up a little. "I mean, I'd love throw a celebration for Lord Sukuna. But, why me?"

"Well, my lady. As I said before, you are very capable. I noticed you seem to have an eye for these kinds of details between your drawings, writings, and your.." Their fuschia eyes flicker briefly to the parchment ornaments adorning a potted plant in the corner. "...creations." Their lip curls upward in a meek grin.

"Between you and I, I have never cared much for the traditions, either. Too overwhelming. But, I am curious about yours. You've caused quite a stir among the ladies of the house and, if I may speak openly..." Uraume gulps and looks at the walls nervously as if they had eyes into the conversation before lowering their voice.

"You are the first in a long while whom I have been able to tolerate, and who has treated me kindly unlike so many before you."

You give Uraume a sympathetic glance, now determined to deliver on your promise of a celebration worth waiting for.

"We'll start tomorrow."

----

The shrine slowly transformed day by day. The halls became lined with pine needles accented by soft candles that emitted a heavenly glow. As the snow piled up, you recruited the help of the servants, smiling at their bewildered expressions that turned to pure joy as they touched snow for the first time, constructing an army of snowmen with various hats, scarves, and other accessories they could find around the estate, complete with carrot noses provided by the kitchen.

You, Uraume, and a team of gardeners from the palace ventured into the woods and hand selected multiple spruce trees, and, with their help, chopped them down, strapping them with ropes and dragging them back so the shrine could have its own assortment of Christmas trees, complete with what seemed to be nearly hundreds of crochet and parchment snowflake ornaments.

You had fashioned them with Uraume and some of the other ladies in waiting during craft hours in the evenings. Presents wrapped in scarlet ribbons and offerings to Sukuna began to encircle the bottom of the largest tree in the grand hall.

Across the way, however, the group of other concubines avoided the spreading merriment with disdain and scowls on their faces, not even touching or wandering in the vicinity of the Christmas trappings as though it contained a plague.

You began hosting caroling rehearsals and only you, Uraume, and a few other members of the kitchens staff had joined while your bitter cohorts tried their best to drown out the noise on the far side of the shrine, the leader of the group shooting a fiery glare at one of her minions when she began to blindly hum the catchy tune.

As Christmas Eve drew closer, the warm baked goodies become more innumerable as they popped out of the kitchen and the bakers perfected their abilities to whip up treats worthy of the season. The shrine had adopted a permanent scent of gingerbread, cinnamon, pine and peppermint that followed and clung to your robes.

----

On the 23rd, the day before Christmas Eve, you and Uraume were baking and laughing with flour stained faces,

"To think, we did all this in just a few weeks' time." Uraume mused as they squished the gingerbread dough between their fingers. "Lord Sukuna will be pleased. Yes, very pleased with you indeed."

The sentiment left you with a very healthy dose of fluster as you grinned at the thought of his majesty marveling at all the work you did just for him, possibly rewarding you with something much better than you could imagine as those eyes of deep rose bestowed you subtle admiration that had not graced anyone else.

Unknown to you, an eavesdropping ear belonging to one of the concubines catches wind of this statement and skitters away quickly to spread her message to the others.

----

"Spit it out already!" The cruel eyed leader of the concubines hisses to the messenger.

"I overheard that Lord Sukuna chose her specifically to lead this Christmas tradition and intends to reward her and place her higher above the rest of us, earning his grace's favor so that we might be cast out into the streets!"

Shock, fury, outrage, and blind jealousy erupted among the other concubines.

"What shall we do?" "That goddamn slut, I knew she was no good." "She needs to go!"

"Silence!!" The leader screeched over the others. "She will be dealt with. We must take matters into our own hands so Lord Sukuna is displeased and has no option but to execute her. Listen to me, I have a plan..."

And the other concubines huddled around her eagerly as they plotted your downfall.

----

Everything was ready for the elaborate Christmas Eve homecoming feast for Lord Sukuna.

The finest beast was being roasted on a spit over fiery coals under careful supervision by Uraume. In the kitchen, the chefs were hard at work chopping vegetables they had culled from the winter harvest. Puddings and treats were being whipped up and presented beautifully in festive arrangements on fine platters.

The smell of Christmas cooking overwhelmed you as you stood in the great hall, clad in a new royal jade kimono with golden ornate leaves woven in your hair that never made you appear more elegant than on this Christmas Eve of festivities.

You thought of Sukuna and what he might think when his powerful presence graced these halls again. An odd mixture of fear and admiration you harbored for him that inspired you to want to please him. Feelings about him you couldn't quite place ever since he selected you to live in his shrine even though your head had not yet graced the silk of his bedsheets.

Lord Sukuna's carnal appetites were of no mystery to you. You had heard plenty of rumors about how rough and relentless he could be. His preferences seemed to be both selective, yet apathetic if that even made sense.

You had heard the screams and loud noises of primality from behind his sealed oak doors that echoed into late hours. Though all of his concubines would walk away with their own satisfaction eventually, his copulation apparently came with scars and rough treatment.

Seldom, if ever would his fucking deviate into lovemaking territory, much less tenderness and intimacy. That is where his selectiveness came in. The gentle sighs, gasps of mind melting pleasure, soul binding thrusts, consuming kisses dotted lovingly all along your nape, breasts, and inner thighs while being brought to the pedestals of pleasure you craved to know one day from the touch of a man you were deeply in love with, seemed to be reserved for someone of an unattainable caliber to Sukuna.

Until he met someone worthy, his concubines were nothing more than warm vessels of temporary satisfaction until his thirst returned.

But, here you were daydreaming that you could be the recipient of such love from him despite all odds.

----

"Whore, we're trying to speak to you!"

An indignant voice rips you out of your thoughts and you turn around, jarred at the sight of the head concubine with her supporters close by. You were outnumbered one to many. A piece of meat left to the wolves. Subtle panic slithered in and wrapped around your throat when Uraume was nowhere to be found.

The leader's scowl melted from her face into a honeyed grin, her long nails outstretching and wrapping around a delicate glass reindeer from a gorgeous wintery scene Sukuna's craftspeople had spent countless hours on.

"P-please be careful-" You raise a shaky hand.

The leader hisses at you, stealing the reindeer out of reach, her icy stare renders you speechless again. Her expression then morphs back into a sugary tone, a snake's venomous fangs concealed behind her pretty face.

"Tell me, darling. Does Lord Sukuna know you've been defiling his shrine this entire time he's been gone?" She asks as she turns the reindeer in between her graceful fingers.

"Defiling...?" You choke out, perplexed.

"Yes, defiling. With these, disgusting-"

You jump in alarm as she abruptly hurls the glass deer to the ground, watching it explode into shards as soon as it meets the unforgiving marble.

"filthy-" she reaches this time for a wreath of holly, casting it onto one of the glowing candles, setting it ablaze.

"pathetic-" the others have now joined in, breaking and trashing all your beloved Christmas decorations, hours of hard work and care being ripped, torn, shredded, and cast into the fire one after another.

"Stop, stop, please!!!" You cry and shriek, voice drowned in anguish but when you raise your hand to stop her, she turns on you immediately, the others coming to her aid, ripping and tearing at your gorgeous kimono.

"You think Lord Sukuna gives a shit about you and your stupid little Christmas traditions?" She snarls as her and the others claw the golden leaves out of your hair and they clutter on the floor, your robes now nearly in tatters. "You're just another slut. A weak, useless, ugly-"

You cower and brace for the worst, but your insides turn when you hear a warm squelch as blood splattered against the walls. A shudder runs through you at the unmistakable sound of dismantle and cleave; the King of Curses had returned.

You look up and you see him first, averting your gaze immediately and kneeling for fear of losing your head next. You're not sure how many of the concubines or servants within the vicinity were slain, but you're guessing a lot, if not all, based on the sea of blood on either side of where you were crouched.

"We'll have no more of that." Sukuna tsk'd. Those stern eyes raked over the scene, seething in annoyance at the mess in front of him. His eyes land on you and he squints as he draws closer, sensing the tremble of your frame as you didn't dare move from your spot.

"Breathe, for gods' sakes, human." He commands. "Stand up, now. Don't keep me waiting."

You rise on shaky knees, keeping your gaze downwards until you straighten up completely, looking into the formidable face of your lord and unexpected savior.

"My Lord."

"Tch." Sukuna clicks his teeth, looking over you. "This is what you call a celebration for the King of Curses?"

"I-..." You shake your head, the lump in your throat obstructing both the oxygen and words in your brain. "I can explain..."

"I do not require an answer." He growled, and you shut your lips, gaze averted downward once again in fearful shame. "You are a mess." His eyes appraise you in scrutinizing pity.

He had seen enough to know this fiasco wasn't entirely your fault. But still, the irritation he felt towards you prior for sticking out so prominently in his brain was rearing its ugly head. It was unlike Sukuna to ruminate, to toil in his mind for hours, especially over a human like you, no less.

He will deal with that later. For now, he still expects a proper feast and celebration after his lengthy travels.

"Uraume." His voice reverberates off the stony walls and Uraume is immediately at his side, their pupils dilating slightly at you in alarm at the devastating state of the grand hall that was beautifully adorned and decorated less than an hour before.

"Clean her up immediately and bring her to my chambers. In the meantime, have any available servants scrub up this mess."

"Right away, my Lord."

----

A while later, you walk slowly towards Sukuna who's standing by his window. You're dressed in fresh robes chosen by him specifically of a bleeding garnet like his eyes. You take in the grand sight of him, the way the darkened shadows would bend at his back and wrap around whatever he was facing, nearly suffocating them with his presence that commanded reverence, humility, but most of all, fear. His broad shoulders, back, and booming voice with a majesty likened to the powerful mountain range that surrounded his shrine.

Even now, as he turns to face you with his monstrous appearance in his full glory with those four eyes, his harshness he exudes stirs a suppressed part of you that never desired to be removed from him. A forbidden kind of beauty not obvious to many that brimmed underneath that thick shell you were only barely skimming the surface.

"Better." Sukuna remarks, seemingly pleased with this new ensemble. "Now..."

He took a step towards you and you held your breath, preparing for the moment where you would inevitably be forced to give yourself to him and be at his non-existent mercy for whatever plans he had next. However, he surprises you.

"Are you just going to stand there, or will you join me for dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"I do not intend for my winter feast to go to waste." Sukuna frowns. "Seeing as my entire harem is now dead except for you, I have no choice but to rely on you to remedy this."

You look at him, dumbfounded. That wide gleam in your eyes that was brought out by the light hitting your irises whenever you had to crane your head to look at him(which was every time) almost pulls at him, for a moment. Almost.

"My Lord?"

"You may start from the beginning." Sukuna instructs, the top pair of arms folding seriously across his chest with the second pair on either side of his thick, muscular waist.

"Use this opportunity to prove yourself worthy and show me these ridiculous Christmas traditions you insisted on imposing on me before I change my mind, brat. "

----

"These are called snowmen, my Lord." Your teeth chatter slightly as you two come to a stop in front of the wall of snowmen you, Uraume, and the servants had constructed over several weeks in the courtyard.

Sukuna stares boredly, a rush of annoyance bubbling inside him as he lays eyes on their pebble smiles, goofy hats, and multi colored scarves.

But, his eyes widen ever so slightly when he takes notice of the biggest snowman that stood out towards the back. This one towered over the others with four sticks for arms instead of two, meeting Sukuna directly at his eye level. It had four sets of pebble eyes on its face with carefully carved markings, eerily similar to someone he knew...

"What is this?"

You gulp. "It is you, my Lord."

Sukuna stares, silent. "What is the purpose of this?"

"For visual display." You answer, slowly. "Personal enjoyment. Sculpting them and playing in the snow is half the fun."

"I care little for that." Sukuna waved his hand. He studied his snowman some more. "I suppose I will allow my likeness to be erected into snow. This is supposed to represent myself and my subjects?" His eyebrow raises slightly as his pair of undereyes flicker back to look at the dozens of other, smaller snowmen in front.

You nod, slightly encouraged by this reaction that wasn't all good, but wasn't all bad either. "Yes my Lord, it is."

"Hmph." Sukuna shoots air out of his nostrils in disapproval. Then, without warning he raises his arm. You duck quickly, and simultaneously each head of each snowman besides his own is sliced off and goes flying, shooting in the air and then landing and exploding like mashed pumpkins back onto the ground.

Sukuna looks with pride at his handiwork, his glorious snowman standing tall over his now decapitated army of snowy subjects.

"Now, it is perfect."

He joins his hands behind his back and walks off with a hum back towards the shrine, leaving you both endeared and confounded.

-----

Next tradition.

"Alright, my Lord." You wring your clammy hands nervously as you stand in front of Sukuna, who's opted to take a seat at the head of his banquet table.

He was stuffing his face with the roast beast that was at least spared by Uraume, his stomach mouth's comical tongue wagging in anticipation with drool before he tossed a couple bones for it to gnaw on obnoxiously like a crazed animal.

"I wish to share with you the legend known as Santa Claus. Otherwise known as Father Christmas, Saint Nicholas, Kris Kringle, among others."

Luckily, the feast seemed to make Sukuna more receptive, if that was even possible. Perhaps some of the restlessness (since he couldn't exactly experience hangry-ness that was exclusive to humans) was resolved by the smoked meat, giving his stomach mouth something to preoccupy him besides nagging Sukuna relentlessly.

"If you must." Sukuna rolls his eyes at you and then at the dopey expression his second mouth gives him while it's utterly high off the fresh bones it was chomping on.

"Well, this Christmas Eve night, he is said to fly and deliver presents around the world to all good children, spreading cheer and climbing into chimneys to leave presents under Christmas trees."

Sukuna's eyes narrow. "I will slaughter anyone who dares enter my household without permission." His stomach mouth gave a little belch. "I do not care for this Santa Claus you speak of."

This was true Sukuna fashion. Normally, you'd be mortified at his dramatics but by now, you had to do your best to stifle a giggle. "My Lord, it's merely a legend."

"That does not matter. If this Santa Claus you speak of attempts to enter my home, he will lose his head." Sukuna vows as he takes a hefty sip of wine before turning his glass to his stomach mouth. "Tell me about something else besides this ridiculous Santa Claus legend."

"Well..." You think for a moment then snap your fingers. "His grace might appreciate the legend of Krampus instead?"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, corners of his mouth still turned downward in displeasure.

You clear your throat, "Krampus is a legend, like Santa Claus except he is a half goat, half demon monster who punishes naughty children. As opposed to Saint Nick whom delivers gifts, Krampus will appear and punish children who misbehave with bundles of branches, or by eating them or taking them to hell... Erm, oh! He looks like this!" You grab a piece of parchment and ink brush, pausing for a moment to make a quick sketch of Krampus.

Sukuna leans back, folding his arms, as he watches you, patiently, expectantly for this new Christmas tradition you spoke of to be better than the dreaded Santa Claus. When you're done painting Krampus, you turn your makeshift masterpiece in Sukuna's direction.

To your delight, a rare, smug expression of satisfaction tugs at the corners of his mouth when he lays eyes on Krampus for the first time.

"This is much better. I will absorb all of this Krampus's cursed energy when he appears tonight. He would be very useful to me, indeed."

You don't have the heart, or bravery to remind Sukuna that Krampus also is just a myth. Sukuna folds his arms, signalling he's done with his dinner.

"This Krampus can stay. Now, on to the rest of your silly traditions, brat."

-----

As the night continues on, you demonstrate more traditions for Sukuna, slowly bringing him into your world of decked out halls and yuletide merriment, albeit with his own, Sukuna-esque spin on things.

Needless to say, he loathed most of them.

"These are what are known as Christmas trees, my Lord." You gestured to the dozens of pines you and Uraume and the servants spent so much time decorating, shortly before Sukuna lit them all on fire.

Your jaw fell open and he stood there proud as the orange flames engulfed the trees in a mini forest fire within the shrine as the glow did a dance in his pupils. Sukuna inhaled, savoring the smoky wood against the releasing smell of the burning spruce.

"A much better way to enjoy the trees." He insisted.

---

Slowly, the Christmas you thought was nearly ruined was salvaged little by little as you entertained the King of Curses.

He spat out all of the overly sweet Christmas goodies immediately. However, his stomach mouth couldn't seem to get enough. Sukuna rolled his eyes as the pair of chompers devoured cookie after cookie that he fed it steadily with his lower pair of hands while his free hands rubbed his temples in defeat.

"I suppose these will do."

---

He liked the Christmas presents and offerings, but not because of the origin story behind it.

"So you see, my Lord, the tradition of gift giving on Christmas came from the nativity story, of the three wise men who delivered presents to the infant Jesus, who was believed to be the son of God."

"Hmph." Sukuna sneered. "How boring. An infant? I would smite him with ease." He looked at the pile of presents. "Tch, we will continue the gift giving tradition, but only for the King of Curses, for I am the most powerful being in this realm, not a newborn baby."

You smile and bow. "Yes, my lord."

----

And when it came to the Christmas carols, he quickly nipped those in the bud.

"Enough!" He groaned, covering his ears when you and Uraume didn't even make it through the first verse of O Holy Night.

"Who is this Savior you speak of in the lyrics?" He glared as he glanced over the sheet music. "Is this about that damn infant again? How pitiful. Change it. I can barely tolerate these insufferable ballads."

Sukuna seemed to come around, but only slightly when the lyrics were more modified to his tastes:

"O holy night! the stars are brightly shining;

It is the night of the mighty Lord Sukuna's return.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

Till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope- the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices!

O night divine, O night when Lord Sukuna returns!

O night, O holy night, O night divine!"

"An improvement." Sukuna frowns again, scratching his jaw. "But I cannot stand either one of your voices."

In short, Christmas carols didn't make the cut.

----

Many of the servants had retired for the night at Sukuna's request to give you and him some space alone. The fires were nearly extinguished, lingering smoke and pine permeated the air with the faint brush of cinnamon and gingerbread. The embers of the fire are boiling in a low cackle as you stand in front of your king who now sits atop his throne slightly above you.

"This last tradition is called mistletoe..." You tried to disguise your shyness as you reached in the pocket of your robes and showed him the small bundle, wrapped up in a red bow. "The leaves and white berries are actually considered poisonous." You explain, which catches Sukuna's interest immediately.

"And? What is the significance?"

"In a Norse legend, the goddess of love, Frigg, promised to kiss anyone who passed underneath it.

The tradition of kissing under the mistletoe was born shortly after in an ancient festival in Greece."

A faint glint of mischief dances in Sukuna's eyes as he leans forward with a smirk.

"That so?"

His gaze roams over you, this realization of several hours that have passed between you and the mystique surrounding his lack of physical contact with you fuels his intrigue that was beginning to simmer alongside the exhausted flames.

"And what else happens after you humans kiss one another under this tradition?" His voice now drips with honey, a contrast you were not expecting from him.

"Well, I suppose that is up to the participants. Surely, things can become a bit, intimate, I suppose."

"Hm." Sukuna outstretched a large veiny hand, taking the mistletoe from you and hanging it from the ceiling above where he was perched on his throne. He leans a hand on his chin, while one of his lower arms comes to cup you around your waist.

"Demonstrate."

He waits, and your eyes spread slightly in alarm as you were brought closer to him than you have been in the entire time you've known him.

Your lips part hesitantly, laced wetly by your wine ladden tongue. Sukuna does not budge, however his hand pressed against your back a little more urgently, his black nails lightly puncturing the garnet threads of your kimono as though he were requesting not to be kept waiting a moment longer.

Your eyes glance upwards at the arrangement of mistletoe dangling perfectly over your heads, then directly at his supple lips that part in seething wait, before leaning in and pressing yours against them without another word.

Sukuna's mouth is warm and rough, just like every last inch of him you discover shortly after when both of his lower arms bring you in between his enormous thighs, so that you are directly up against pure muscle.

His skin is heated, and practically hot to the touch between all of the formidable strength that lay encased in his looming form. Sukuna wastes no time deepening the kiss. As his mouth opens against yours, you feel as though you are being swallowed directly by rays of sun on a sweltering day, the very opposite of the present chilly night bogged with snow that now covered every inch of the land surrounding the quiet shrine.

The delicious and precise slither of his tongue in between your lips causes you to release the most beautiful gasp into his mouth. Sukuna exhales deeply,

"More."

And his lips move feverishly, low grunts escaping the opening space between them as his tongue slides against yours. Aroused, scorched by this ethereal being as he kissed you as though he were the kindling catching alight and you were the flame instead.

Your hands bravely slide up both sides of his expansive neck, your nails entangling themselves in the unruly locks of orchid. The King of Curses shudders, seemingly offput by a mortal touching him so boldly, but every passionate grind of you against him allows him to ignore it for now, as that insatiable thirst bubbles deep in his belly and begs to be relieved.

"Ahh..." A breathy moan peels softly at first then snaps as he rips the ending from your throat with a harsh gnash of his teeth to your bottom lip, as one his hands immediately snaked into the opening of your robes.

His touch is molten, but his stare is unmoving as he forces your gaze to stay captured underneath his as his hand works quickly to part your thighs, riding the hem of your kimono up your legs, cold air tickling your pussy which he's more than pleased to discover is already bare, shiny with slick underneath.

"Closer, and do not stop looking at me." He mutters. All four of his heavily hooded eyes greedily drink in the way your expression liquefies to silk when you feel that first long, languid, warm stroke between both lips of your sensitive cunt.

"I said, look at me." Sukuna growls, a clawed hand coming up to cup your cheeks, both of them pinched between his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other. He runs his tongue over his lips, a slow sneer spreading out at your gradual fucked out expression as his tongue from his belly slowly licks, savors, and swirls against your dripping entrance.

High pitched whimpers flood past your lips, the corners of your eyes begin to prick with tears as profound warmth blooms upwards from the epicenter of unrelenting pleasure Sukuna's second mouth is wringing from your swollen clit. The tongue begins to slowly curl inside of you, each groove of its wet, meaty surface gliding against the soaking velvet of your tight walls, while the upper lip encircles and sucks over your soft pearl.

"Good." Sukuna whispers, stifling a groan when he feels you involuntarily pulse around his tongue, leading to a greedy string of juices dribbling down the second throat. "Who's your king? Tell me, pet."

He tauts his abs as he maneuvers you around his stomach slightly, still keeping you locked in an iron grip but allowing you to lightly bob as he guides you to ride his tongue, his other pair of hands coming to knead your breasts, his eyes tearing into your soul.

"You, Sukuna..." You managed to sigh, as you felt the soaking warmth linger over a tried and true spot, before Sukuna promptly removes it, irritated at your unsolicited use of his name.

"Tch." He grins wolfishly at the abrupt whimper that followed when you mourned the loss. "Do not get greedy with me, brat. You will feel only what I allow you to, understood?"

He breathes out as he lowers you back onto his awaiting open mouth on his belly. "And you will only address me as your Lord, woman, understood?"

"Yes, my Lord..."

"Mm."

And you continue to feel his tongue's meticulous exploration of you with your thighs parted on either side of his large waist, however it only became more agonizing as it coaxed and only teased around all the spots that amplified euphoria, dangling that peak of arousal frustratingly out of reach.

"My Lord, p-please, I wish to cum..." your nails dig into the hollows of his chest and he glances down briefly, internally bemused at the needy mess he was turning you into, thin trails of your juices softly dribbling down the soft meat of your inner thighs.

Your eyelids flutter and the intonations of your voice begin to quiver as his second tongue began to wetly prod your sweetest spot.

Sukuna glowered briefly at his second mouth that had a mind of his own, displeased at its less sadistic nature than his and its determination to drive you off the edge whereas he was in the middle of enjoying your desperate state. He cannot place it, but this idiosyncrasy between him and the rest of his body was betraying him.

Perhaps it was due to this question that was slowly being answered in his mind of just how soft you'd be for him in the throes of pleasure, silencing his ruminations of you at long last. As you knew, he cared little about the appearance of the concubines he chose to feed his ravenous sexual appetites.

He had rarely encountered a pretty face, and, for the first time, the King of Curses felt compelled to worship.

"Hmph. Cum for me then, brat." He croons harshly to disguise his waning willpower. "Be a good mistress and cum for your king. Don't you dare hide your eyes from me..."

And the dam quickly burst and you soaked his lap, tears releasing in your eyes as well, your blurry gaze burning as you obeyed Sukuna's command to keep your eyes on him.

The second mouth panted as it worked to clean you up, guzzling your arousal like it was nectar as it stuck to its lips and Sukuna's powerful torso in a shiny sopping coat of sheen.

"Good." Sukuna praised, pulling you off him as he undid the remainder of his robes, the subtle sound of the garment hitting the floor causes you to clench your thighs, even more so as you saw him, completely bare in front of you for the first time.

If you were any other whore, he would not have stopped after you finally came, if he had let you cum at all. Sukuna delighted in denying his partners their utmost release until it was practically unbearable, then would push them well over the threshold of normal stimulation, until he sunk his teeth in their shoulder and fucked them roughly with his dual cocks.

Now, as he tears off his robes, allowing the element of anticipation to linger with the promise of what was to come next, and the heat to smolder lying in wait, he realizes this first time with you would be much, much different. With you, things were unhurried and slow.

His black markings continued below where his dark robes previously concealed, all along his sculpted collarbones, pecs and chest. His muscles were rigid with the tension you were slowly building up in him this entire time. He possessed burly thighs that were covered with small forests of hair, as well as on his arms with sinewy veins and lightly flushed pink skin.

But, what stood out most of all were two staggering, meaty cocks that bloomed red at both tips that flopped against his belly. Veins adorned both sides, running purplish blue, a very large, plump, taut set of balls dangled in a flesh colored sack underneath.

You couldn't help but get on your knees, entranced as you slowly sank to the floor. Your mouth began to salivate as you took in the bulbous tips that had to pass for almost three of your fingers alone, mind fuzzy with both excitement and intimidation as you wondered how you could possibly accommodate both.

"My Lord, m-may I?" You lick your lips, whimpering as the throb of your clit begins to pulse as your warm pussy squeezes around nothing. You were still worked up from your orgasm, however having already been brought to heaven and back, you were eager to please Sukuna. After all, as you were repeatedly coached in your trainings as a concubine, a good one always pleases her Lord.

"Excuse me?" Sukuna frowns, ice in his tone.

"P-please my Lord? I wish you pleasure you, to suck your cocks..." You swallow, the blinders of arousal causing all shame to disappear out the window.

Sukuna scoffs pridefully. "Really? And why would I let you do something like that, brat? You think I require your mouth so badly?"

He taunts, noticing the way your pussy still bore no shortage of wetness. As a matter of fact, it was trickling even more as the thoughts of taking Sukuna's cocks in your mouth only aroused you to nearly primal levels.

"Please, please my Lord..." You breathe slowly as your teeth brushed your bottom lip, his hands coming to undo the knot of your kimono, allowing the garment to slide in a sensual display down your shoulders like seafoam receding over a shoreline, until all of your bareness lay exposed to his hungry eyes.

Sukuna stared at you, wrestling internally at the hazy feelings the sight in front of him was conjuring up. You were so desperate, panting and waiting. The smell from your soaked heat was earthy yet sweet, an aphrodisiac to his nostrils. You were so needy, so eager to allow you a taste of him, the way you tilted your head so sweetly as you begged permission.

"Very well..." Sukuna's jaw slackened just a tad before running his thumb along your glossy bottom lip, the pointed edge of his nail and thumb just barely poking your tongue, which you indulged him and slowly licked it into your mouth.

"Fuck, such a needy little thing, you. God, such a whore..."

He presses his thumb onto the middle of your tongue. "Open..." He pumped one of his shafts with the other, as you gently opened your lovely lips, gradually and steadily feeding you his cock, twinkling eyes peeking through your lashes.

"Fuck..."

The utter groan he lets out is music to your years, and you meet him more than halfway immediately, stuffing his cock quickly into your mouth and almost hitting the back of your throat.

Sukuna grits his teeth as you accept him so greedily. His size was such that the entire thing didn't quite fit, filling up such a pretty mouth and throat until your eyes watered, the stretch eased by how much you ached for him, and how delicious his heated skin tasted in your mouth. So warm and rigid as you feel him pulse with life with the faintest trace of salt from the blooming precum.

Your eyes roll back and you begin to bob your head, squeaking with surprise when Sukuna pushes your head, relishing the glistening coat of drool you leak every time the heavy shaft withdraws from your reddened lips. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you up and down his cock.

Sukuna panted and grunted, falling backwards on his throne with you at his feet, his hips rippling as he couldn't help but fuck himself into your plush, silky, mouth. His other cock aches for attention as well, and he gets an idea.

"Your breasts..." He rasped. "Touch yourself, present them to me."

Mouth still stuffed with cock, you innocently batted your lashes as both your hands came to grip your tender globes, lifting them slightly as you gently pushed them together, creating the perfect, sinful little valley for Sukuna to slide his second cock.

Using the mixture of slick and spit and sweat from his other cock, he coats the second one with his hand and throws his head back as it meets that slippery canal, squished in between your two yummy tits.

You groan loudly, hugging the velvety length between your breasts as you continued to slobber all over the other. You cooed and whined sweetly, rubbing your thighs together, a practical second orgasm almost inevitable from watching this being, this king, this God, so wanton and so aroused.

"I'm going to cum. Don't stop, don't stop gazing at me like that, my goddess..."

He looked down at you, his lovely little slut, so filthy and carnal. This alluring, sexual siren he awakened that was concealed beneath a pair of glittering shy eyes and quiet exterior this whole time. You were a treasure to be guarded, a goddess of Earth and flesh, worthy of his devotion, of his love, and he finally snaps.

Both cocks ooze generous spurts of silvery white cum. It paints both of your supple tits like jelly. It's warm and thick as it coats the inside of your throat and mouth. Sukuna marvels at this masterpiece he's made out of this celestial canvas of you, slowly drawing out his slick, sticky cock and tracing your puffy lips with the milky gloss.

"My Lord..." You purred.

"Mine." He whispered before he yanked you against his lips again, greedily and messily tasting himself off of you, both hands nearly covering both sides of your face as he drank the breath from your lungs.

-----

Sukuna's bed is warm just like the heat that runs rampant throughout his body. His pillows and linens bend to accept you and embrace you like you have always belonged there despite this being the very first time you did.

A galaxy is born in that moment when both heads of his cock begin to rub and slowly push inside both of your holes, stretching you in a way no other man or being for that matter has ever done before.

"Look at me..." Sukuna commands again. His booming voice is reverent and his gaze is eternal as he bites back more groans that simmer at the back of his throat. You grip the sheets, sweetly calling his name.

"Sukuna..."

And he doesn't correct you this time. His face softens and the callouses of his hands run and squeeze over the expanse of your thighs as he becomes one with you over and over again.

"My queen." He utters at last as your heart sings and blooms within your ribcage.

The world shifted that night as the King of Curses irrevocably bound himself to you.

And when the exhaustion had claimed you, when you could no longer be flooded, filled, and fucked, when the sheets felt like silk and your tired limbs and his wove together like emerald leaves of holly, as his seed gushed inside your womb and buried a mixture of each other so deep and raw and new in a way that could not be conceived again.

The nighttime was quickly forgotten as you fell asleep to the King of Curses' heartbeat, the dawning hours of Christmas morning ushering in a gentle wave of steadfast snow.

[eepyuii]

frostbite — pt. 4

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; brief mentions of drowning, fighting (?)

note ; i’m ngl i’m kinda proud of this chapter, i may have done the smidgenmost cooking. also i will be making a masterlist soon!!

previous | next | masterlist

liyue harbor looked its prettiest at night.

the lantern lights made the city’s colors pop out so much more. from afar, the harbor looked like it’s own galaxy of yellow stars or like a celestial being as lively as its nightlife. this isn’t even the first time you’ve thought this- zapolyarny palace also seemed infinitely more majestic when the lights turned on during the evening. it almost made you enjoy working late shifts.

almost.

unfortunately, aesthetics can’t sugarcoat the things the fatui has done and that you’ve been a witness to. the mass production of delusions, the robbery of gnoses and let’s not even get started on the things the doctor has done. even with eleven harbingers, who all have their fair share of unorthodox acts, don’t seem to rival the blasphemies your very boss has committed. blasphemies you’ve only watched, sitting neatly and keeping your mouth shut, and done nothing about. you’re only undeservingly grateful you weren’t present for the majority of his atrocities. but then again, who even were you to keep count of divine punishments you would never provide to the sinners who warranted them?

plus, now wasn’t the time to dwell on entirely so much.

if you stood lifelessly in the middle of the street for any longer, someone might get suspicious. you choose to head towards the coastal side of the harbor, merely observing the crowds walk back and forth between the street businesses. a few steps further and you reach a small street food restaurant- wanmin restaurant. the line of customers is concerningly big for such a time of day, you shiver to imagine what it’s like during lunch time.

the large, open window of the restaurant shows an older man attending to the customers with utmost friendliness and behind him, a younger blue-haired girl hurries from side to side as she rushes to ready the dishes. you see her look down and speak as if talking to someone incredibly short, so short that they’re entirely covered by the half wall of the window.

you furrow your eyebrows, confused by the sight- that is until the girl turns to you and panic invades her expression.

“guoba, wait! watch out for-“

before she finishes her sentence, you feel a faint thump against your leg. you look down to see… what in all honesty just looked like a teddy bear- except it seemed entirely alive and currently knocked over on the ground, paw wiping its little forehead as if it got hurt on the crash with your calf. next to it was also a small bag of mora, spilling over onto the sidewalk.

you hurry to gather up the coins and put them back in the bag before any slimy passerby could snatch them away while the girl steps over to help up the teddy bear.

“agh… i shouldn’t have sent you out to get groceries in such a hurry and you also need to watch where you go better!” she reprimands the creature, patting it down to smooth away any dirt.

“a-and i’m so very sorry! we’re overflowing with customers today and we were running out of oil so i thought i’d have guoba run to mr. dongsheng’s shop but i guess the pressure got him distracted…” she bows apologetically and the bear follows suit.

chuckling sheepishly, you wave the gesture off. “please, there’s no need for all that… it was just an accident after all.” you look down at the bag of mora in your hand.

“say, why don’t i go buy that oil for you? i’m not busy at the moment and you and… guoba clearly need all your attention on the food.”

her eyes light up as if the second coming of rex lapis has just occurred before her. “you’d do that? oh, that would be amazing! thank you so much…” she trails off as if waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.”

“y/n! thank you so much, y/n. i’m xiangling, by the way!”

the shop just around the corner from the restaurant and you dutifully wait in line to be attended by mr. dongsheng. you’re almost getting lost in thought until you hear an exclamation from nearby.

“x-xingqiu wait up!” what sounded like a young boy huffed out, sprinting from nearby. you turn to see exactly a young light-blue haired boy in white clothes rushing to catch up with another boy with darker blue hair in elegant navy garbs who was already waiting for him at the bridge to the outskirts of town.

“come on, you slowpoke!” the other boy giggles and as his friend is finally beside him, he abruptly grabs his wrist and pulls him along to run once more.

the display is so genuine and lighthearted that it even makes you chuckle fondly, makes you nostalgic for a simpler time.

you buy the oil and swiftly head back to wanmin restaurant, where xiangling is practically weeping with gratitude. “oh thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re a real lifesaver, please let me repay you- a whole evening of dishes on the house with whatever guests you’d like!” she bows once more.

“don’t sweat it… but i’ll hold you to that.” you nod amusedly and make your way out to leave xiangling and guoba to their arduous cooking.

your aimless wandering through the harbor takes you to the eastern side next, to the passageway between the pool of lotuses that leads to bubu pharmacy. you lean against the railing, watching intently as the fish swim aimlessly through the calm waters- then you turn to watch the people crossing the passageway, couples, families, childhood friends all enjoying the comfortable mundaneness of life.

turning even further, you spot a small girl sitting at the top of the staircase that leads to bubu pharmacy, you’ve seen her before behind the counter of the establishment… qiqi, was it? she sits at the edge of the elevated structure, facing the piers of the harbor as she watches with droopy eyes and what seemed to be a glass of milk in her hands.

the sleepiness in her expression reminds you of how late into the night it must be, urging you to head back to your quarters and get whatever sleep you can.

on your way up the stairs of the catwalks, you pass by heyu tea house, where an opera is taking place. the singer is a young girl, adorning traditional liyuean opera garbs that flow gracefully with the elegant twists and turns of the dance she performs. not to mention her unparalleled singing accompanied by the smooth sounds of a liyuean instrument, a guqin as you recall it- her voice so mesmerizing it nearly pulls all of the attention away from the heart wrenching tale it tells.

you’d heard stories about liyuean opera and how entirely different it was from the snezhnayan iterations, but none of the descriptions truly made justice to the fantastical spectacle you stumbled upon by luck. once again, you almost forget you were supposed to head to your dorm and rest.

unfortunately, rest is not for you.

you lay in your bed, eyes wide awake and fixated at the decorated ceiling as you recall all that you saw this evening. the liveliness of the common folk, xiangling and guoba, the two boys, the young girl from the pharmacy delighting in something as simple as a glass of milk, the opera performance. it’s all so human, so natural, simple, meaningful and so entirely precious. you’d made an enjoyable evening stroll just out of watching people… be people.

and you were going to drown it all in just a few days.

well, not as much you as childe was going to. but you didn’t do anything to counter it, not a peep of disagreement, not an act of defiance, not even an idea of an alternate solution. all because of some goddamn chess piece for the tsaritsa’s stupid plan. a pang of forced guilt hits your heart- you’d be surely decapitated in the town square for saying such things about her grace, or thinking rather. but that’s not how you feel, you’d care less about not criticizing an archon if they were truly being stupid.

but that’s how childe feels.

he reveres the tsaritsa blindly more than anyone you know. you needed to speak to him, first thing tomorrow.

surely he wouldn’t mind pulling out of his ingenious, but foolishly dangerous, plan just for you?

—

they say early bird gets the worm yet here you remain, up at the ass crack of dawn with no worm to speak of. if you were slightly less exhausted at the moment, you would’ve caught onto ekaterina’s look of sheer pity towards you.

“good morning, sergeant! how may i help you?” she greets politely.

“mmh.. yes, morning…” you mumble back, pinching the bridge of your nose. “would you know where childe is right now?”

“i believe childe is currently exercising outside of the harbor. would you like to leave a message for him?”

“no no- no need, i’ll just go to him myself. where exactly outside of town is he?”

“childe usually likes to train up in the mountains behind yujing terrace, he took a few officers to train alongside him so it won’t be difficult to spot the group.” you nod and mutter a curt ‘thank you’ to her. your feet feel like they’ve got pure geo constructs tied to them but you manage to make it to the door of northland bank- though before you get to make your way out, you hear ekaterina call out to you.

“i would advise you to bring a weapon, sergeant! knowing how stubborn childe is.”

chuckling at the indirect jab toward childe that she delivers, you only materialize your polearm with the power of your vision, the only instance you’ll ever use it.

“don’t i know it.”

sometimes you wonder if childe is even human- the mere climb to the mountains behind yujing terrace was enough exercise to last you a week or so. once you settled upon the mountain top, heaving as if death were at your doorstep, you take in your surroundings to spot a small group of men in the distance, gathered in a circle that and facing away from you. a few more minutes of walking reveal that they are in fact clad in fatui uniform and the sound of grunts, thuds and the ever despair-inducing sound of the eleventh harbinger’s maniacal laughter.

you join the circle silently, eyes sharp and cold, to watch as childe effortlessly topples over a low-rank officer. a little more observation would show that this poor man wasn’t the first one to receive such treatment, as all the other men look over with sheer horror in their eyes and dirt clinging to their uniforms- all while childe’s clothes remain spotless and neat. said terrified men notice your sudden presence and scurry to salute you properly with trembling arms while you merely gesture for them to be at ease.

“so! who would like to go next?” the harbinger calls out obliviously only to be met with shameful silence. he scans the whole circle like a bloodthirsty predator, though once he finally turns around to see you there, his eyes seem to gain a different light. if they can even attain any.

“y/n! to what do we owe the pleasure to have you here?” he laughs, raising a hand to gesture to you while facing the other officers. “gentlemen, sergeant y/n of the medical division.”

the officers almost immediately salute you once more and you sigh. “please, at ease.”

“truly impeccable timing, doc! i’ve just sparred one-on-one with each one of these officers to teach them a thing or two about combat. though… i might’ve gone a little too hard, plus they might learn better through observing rather than getting shoved around one by one. so why don’t the two of us spar?”

you put up a hand to stop him. “yeah yeah, unfortunately i’m not here to rumble. i’ve got something i’d like to discuss with y-“

“aw, come on! this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for these gentlemen!” childe whines.

“i really would rather not, it’s a bit of an important matter that i want to sort out-“

“it’ll be quick! just one round.”

“i didn’t sleep well last night plus-“

“then a spar is just the way to get the blood pumping!”

“can we please just talk for a few minutes and then you can go back to-“

slash.

where you expected to receive another interruption from childe was instead the sharp tip of a hydro blade right beside your head, narrowingly missing you by a hair. the officers gasp dramatically, while you practically stab childe with the incredulous glare you throw him. even worse, the asshole only smirks playfully as if it was just a playground game.

being on the other side of his blade is famously not unfamiliar to you.

you summon your polearm without thinking and swing it angrily from right to left, hoping only to get the hydro sword away from you. childe does exactly as you predict and steps back expertly to dodge your spear, bearing the widest grin. what ensues next is a tiring back and forth between the two of you- childe hits, you hit back to defend yourself, childe hits back harder. the men watch intently as if watching the most intense play of their lives. it’s probably after a good eight minutes of fighting that your arms start growing weary from how tightly you’re holding onto your weapon and your legs get even sorer than they were from how much you climbed. this is getting stupid.

you put all your focus into finding an opening in childe’s strikes to overtake him, finding it within his next attack, where he switches his grip on the twin blades so the sharp sides face outward and he brings his arms together to create momentum for a double-sided swing that covers the entire of his front. in the millisecond that his hands are next to each other, you send a wave of frigid air that freezes the entirety of his swords and bites at his fingers in a way that makes him hiss and drop the weapons on instinct.

as the icy blades collide with the ground, they shatter into a million glittering shards. childe looks down, half-shocked half-amused at the display and laughs once more. he continues to stare at the ground, any trace of his swords is entirely gone- though it’s no matter, as hydro is already swirling down his wrists as he prepares a new set.

“hah… the fun finally begi-“

before he can finish his taunt, you’re tackling him onto the ground, taking advantage of his distraction. you kneel with one knee up, the other is latched firmly beside childe’s torso, and press your polearm firmly across his arms as to restrain him. the fatui officers are practically losing their minds at this point.

“enough.” you huff out with a snarl, chest heaving up and down violently.

childe is finally, truly at a loss for words. he looks up at you as if you’re the most divine being he’s ever seen and the halo of sunlight that forms around you really doesn’t help. though, you only interpret it as him simply being so surprised that someone finally beat him. after a few seconds of remaining in the position, you take it childe has surrendered and stand up and away from him.

you dust off your clothes and utter without looking up. “leave. all of you.” the men sprint out of the scene like startled rabbits.

“now can we talk?”

taglist ; @kentply @osaemu @rain-and-a-nice-nap

[writingforfishes]

First Christmas

This came to me yesterday. It was absolutely inspired by a character trait of the inspiration for Otto. I also added a little more lore into how Otto came to own his house.

CW:

Masturbation mention

Light description of sexual acts, but not necessarily explicit (in my opinion)

Hiccups from excitement

Christmas decorations

Atticus is Jewish adjacent more than anything

Mention of parent dying (Atticus' mom)

Mention of parent dying (Otto's dad)

Hard hiccups

Semi-fast hiccups

Hiccups being solved by food

Otto being sleep deprived because he has too much Christmas Joy

If I had the energy my apartment would look like the cover of a Christmas Card

Being awoken by Santa's tallest elf

The blasphemy in Atticus not knowing what Krampus is

The newness of living with each other and finding out things about each other

They're both incredible dorks

“So, don’t freak out,” Otto said as he appeared in front of Atticus while they sat up in bed after waking.

Otto looked a little...wilder than usual. His hair was a little more frazzled. His eyes somehow seemed larger, though they had faint shadows of exhaustion under them. He held his hands up to the writer as if to defend himself from whatever reaction he was hoping to prevent. His long finger splayed in front of Atticus’ eyes and the writer followed them to his palms and then to his face, blinking themselves into a state of alertness they deemed necessary to process Otto’s unusual request.

It was mid-December of the first year they’d lived together. As such, Atticus had not quite assimilated to all of Otto’s quirks, nor Otto to theirs. So, what should they expect when faced with the words ‘don’t freak out’?

It took more than a moment to form a response which seemed to leave Otto bouncing on the balls of his feet and biting his lip in anticipation.

“Pro-tip,” Atticus finally said, voice still hoarse from sleep, “the words ‘don’t freak out’ rarely succeed in calming someone down.”

Otto balled his hands up to his mouth with a solemn nod.

“Okay,” he said as he fanned his hands back out in gesticulation, “that’s a fair point.”

Atticus snorted a soft laugh at the concession.

“What, exactly, am I not supposed to freak out about?” they asked.

“What...is your opinion on decorating for the holidays?” he asked with forced casualness.

“Um...I like it? I mean, I rarely have the energy to do it myself, but I like Christmas. I might not believe in the...anything of it, but the décor was always kind of nostalgic,” Atticus admitted.

“Good!!” Otto said with so much enthusiasm and loudness it caused Atticus to visibly jump. “Sorry! Good. Good. That’s good. Cause...when you walk downstairs...I...just...know that I really love decorating for Christmas. I’m on the same page as you with the believing but...just…”

Otto’s face became a little desperate as he searched for words and got caught up with passion.

“I really like Christmas decorations. A lot,” he finally said.

“O...kay,” Atticus said slowly fitting the pieces of the puzzle together. “Did you...did you stay up all night decorating?”

“No!” he said with a finger pointing upward in front of him, “I got up in the middle of the night and decorated! I wanted to surprise you. But then I thought, what if they don’t like it? We haven’t talked about it. And didn’t they say they were Jewish? But they aren’t practicing? I don’t know if you’re practicing. I don’t think we’ve ever discussed it actually. Why haven’t we discussed it? I guess it’s not something you just talk about, is it? Or maybe something bad happened to them on Christmas and I’m just going to be inciting some traumatic event by reminding them of Christmas. So, I wanted to warn you and...and if you want me to take it down...give me a few hours because it’ll take a whi—”

Atticus had grabbed his wandering hands in front of him to stop his words. It had worked surprisingly well as he now stared down on them owlishly as they stood in front of him smirking.

“I love Christmas decorations, and I really want to see them,” they said.

Otto gifted them with a wide grin.

“Okay! Okay, good! C’mon!” he said as he led them downstairs.

The first thing Atticus noticed was lights. No, actually the first thing Atticus noticed was garland on the banister. Well, no, the first thing Atticus noticed was an explosion of reds, greens, golds, and shining decorations literally everywhere they turned their head. It was overwhelming and they walked slowly as they took in how the living room, dining room, and entire downstairs area had been taken over by meticulously placed and organized decorations culminating in an impressively realistic artificial tree in the corner of the living room next to the front window.

In the perimeter of their awareness, they heard Otto excitedly explaining the history of the nut crackers, the glass blown ornaments, the vintage strings of light, and various other characteristics of the veritable winter wonderland he’d created.

“...all from Germany. My dad’s side of the family. I have a vintage train set I used to bring out, but it’s honestly too much trouble to put it up anymore and it sort of blocks the flow of the house. And honestly? I’m not really into trains? Like, I know, right? I seem like a person who would be totally into trains, but they’re not really my thing. I can’t bring myself to get rid of it, though. Too sentimental, I guess. Maybe one day I’ll set it up again. Or maybe I can donate it to someone who would appreciate it. I dunno. Haven’t really looked into it…” Otto continued to babble until he noticed Atticus’ face taking all of the decorations in.

“Dude…” Atty finally said.

Otto’s eyes widened as he tried to figure out exactly what the statement of awe implied.

“Is that a good ‘dude’ or…” he asked.

Atticus simply turned to him with eyes wide behind their large glasses. A grin slowly grew on their face until it stretched into their cheeks and pushed into their eyes.

“Duuude!” they exclaimed. “This is awesome!”

Otto grinned and bounced on his feet.

“Yeah? Really? You don’t think it’s too much? I mean, I’d totally get it if you thought it was too much,” he said quickly.

“No-I-this is amazing! I can’t believe you did all of this in less than a night! I...well...the nutcrackers are kind of creepy. I like them but...something about nutcrackers. I think I was way too impressionable when I saw The Nutcracker performance. But they’re really cool, still! And...oh my gosh this tree! Man! Holy moly. This is just...like...it feels so warm and cozy!” Atticus said, beaming.

“I know! Right? That’s what I think! It’s-it’s why I do it every year. I...before my dad died, he used to decorate our house like this every Christmas. Our mom was never too into it so after he was gone it was just...you know...the basics,” he said as his fingers toyed with themselves in explaining.

“But, um, you know I actually inherited this house,” he continued. “Sorta. Kinda. After I got into recovery and was making amends I was encouraged to reach out to my uncle, my dad’s brother, by my sponsor. My therapist at the time thought it was a good idea, too. My uncle said there was this house here that he owned. My great aunt used to live here. He thought one of my cousins might want it, but they were already married and set up where they wanted to be, so he offered it to me. It came with so many things, and he told me I could do whatever I wanted to with them. Most of it I kept. Just...the history, y’know? And all of these decorations. Then I asked my mom if I could have the decorations from dad’s collection. And, you know, she made it this big thing. But she gave them to me eventually. Anyway.”

Atticus listened and nodded, scanning the scene again as he explained the history. They noticed how very old the ornaments were at that point. Timeless. Or, perhaps, trapped in time? They couldn’t pinpoint it, but they felt as if they’d stepped into a greeting card or the pictures in a book. Even the lights seemed to give the house a sepia feel. It gave them a swelling of emotion they didn’t exactly expect; they rubbed their hand on their chest at it.

“Yeah. Yeah, you know...my mom...she didn’t really care for Christmas,” Atticus said, “But, for my sake, she decorated every year despite it. My mom didn’t have great memories of her family. But she did have some ornaments. I kept them with me. Some stuff from when I packed up at her apartment after she died, I still have in boxes in the loft bedroom. Um...she was always surprised how much Christmas meant to me. But I’ve always loved it.”

Atty felt Otto’s arm around them and found themselves leaning into the softness of his side.

“My dad,” they continued, “he wasn’t really practicing. He had a menorah. I have that, too. Sometimes I give a light-hearted attempt at celebrating. But I wasn’t really brought up religiously Jewish. I think my mom made more of an attempt to connect me with that part of my culture than my dad ever did.”

“Yeah?” Otto said. “Well, if you want you are more than free to add anything you have. I mean...that would actually be pretty great. Mmk! I’d mmk! I’d li—like to se-mp!-see those ornaments and mk!mk! and men—norah! Heh. I thi-himp!-think the ex-ip!-excitement himp’k! gave me mmk! the hiccups!”

Atticus had felt a flush take over their body from the first soft jostle they’d felt as his side. They shivered involuntarily and Otto had the audacity to bring them closer into his body. Though, to be fair, Atty didn’t resist.

“Oh no…” Atticus said weakly with very little attempt at genuineness. They smiled up at the tall clock maker as he placed his hand on his chest and grinned sheepishly.

Still fairly new to celebrating their shared arousals Otto rocked them with his body as he shifted weight from one foot to the other feeling the thumps of his diaphragm pull at his abdomen and jerk his head.

“Guess herp! guess this hmm! is our fir—irst hmp! gift of the hup’k!hmp! of the season!” he said as he looked shyly down at them.

“You want to…” Atty said as they couldn’t resist putting a hand on his stomach to feel the movements “...open the present down here or upstairs?”

“Hmmhmmmk!-mm!” he said, rubbing his chest at the deepness of that one. The hiccups were getting stronger with his increasing arousal as he watched and felt Atticus’ reactions and their struggle to keep themselves together.

“May-hmm!-maybe upsta-huh’mmk! upstairs?” he suggested. “HU’ULK! Oh, excuse me! Hnk!-uh. huULK!-uh.”

Atticus let out a shaky breath at the quickening hiccups and his apology for the loud hiccup.

“Yeah. Yeah-yeah. Upstairs. Like, now,” they said, urgently.

With that same sense of urgency, the couple rushed to their shared bed. Lying next to each other, against each other, Atticus nearly on top of Otto with how close they were, they fed off of one another’s moans and sounds and movements as they masturbated simultaneously until they found themselves breathless and spent.

Atticus heard themselves vocalizing their pleasure excitedly as Otto’s hiccups continued and became worse, faster, as he gasped in his own excited self-administrations. Atty grew more and more aroused with every quickened breath and moan choked off by hiccup clusters hardly giving him space to breathe.

At one point the writer remembered looking up to make sure Otto was still okay as the hiccups hit him in such quick succession. The sounds ran into each other, gasping croakily in his throat as if he was experiencing one elongated hiccup instead of a cluster of several. But their concern was temporary as they only saw in Otto’s closed eyes an expression of intense arousal, brow furrowed as his body curled with the rhythmic administrations of his hand to himself. And then he vocalized a sighing moan before more hiccups interrupted him.

The visual electrified and quickened Atticus’ own pleasure and, though their climaxes were staggered they weren’t that far apart as they both eventually ended up lax and spent. Atticus’ head found its way to Otto’s chest and Otto’s arm wound around their body as they both gasped and panted into calmer breathing.

Otto’s diaphragm didn’t make it easy to calm his breathing, though, as it still tugged at his lungs in strong spasms.

“H’muuck!-uh. Hm’mmk!-mm. Guess they’re mmk! stubborn toda-hup’k!-today! Scuse me! Hrmk!-mm. Mm!mm!hmmk’m!-uh. Jeez. HU’UPK! Whew,” he said as he rubbed his chest and belly.

“Dang, those sound so strong, still,” Atticus noted, the buzz and afterglow softening their arousal reaction leaving them more concerned than turned on.

“Yeah they huh’mmk!-uh, they are a li-hip!-litt—little. Damn. HULP!HUP!-oof. They’ll mmk!hmp! they’ll calm do-hup!-down after hm’mmk! after a whi—ile, I think,” he said.

“Hope so,” Atticus said as they rubbed his jiggling and popping stomach sympathetically.

Otto smiled at the gesture.

“Have you eaten breakfast, yet?” they asked.

The question gave Otto pause.

“No actu—actually. HUP!-ooh. Sorry. Wonder hmk! wonder mk!mk!mm!…” Otto said and paused as his head and stomach jerked silently a few more times at the rapid attack before slowing again as he sighed. “Ugh. Mm. Wonder if th—that would hup! he—help! hu’uuck!”

“Let’s find out,” Atticus offered.

As it turned out, having food helped a great deal in slowing Otto’s hiccups. Sitting in the kitchen he watched Atticus stare into the living room, head leaning in hand, as they ate their eggs distractedly.

Otto’s hiccups hadn’t stopped completely, yet, but he could tell they were on the way out. He was relieved to have been given some more breathing room, and his throat was starting to feel less irritated with the cool water he was drinking. He smiled as Atticus’ attention continued to be distracted by his decorations.

“You reall—really do like them don’t y—don’t you?” he said as he swallowed another bite of eggs.

“I really do,” Atticus confirmed. They turned back to Otto with a soft smile. They gave his belly a gentle pat. “How’s your diaphragm?”

“Calming down, thankfully,” he said. His body bounced again with another silent spasm. “Mm. That was a nice surprise, though.” He jerked again and took another drink of water to ease his throat.

“Mmm. Yeah, it was. Thank you. I know you didn’t plan it, but thanks anyway. Heck, if advent calendars had gifts like that, I might consider actually participating!” Atticus said in humor.

Otto chuckled and released a small hup!

“Twelve days of—of hiccuping might be a little much. E—even for me,” he said.

“No kidding,” Atticus said with a nod of agreement.

“You know you’re not the only one who g—gets something out of it, right?” Otto asked.

Atticus shrugged.

“Yeah, but you do more for it,” they said, brushing off the comparison.

“Mm, I don’t really see it that way,” he said. He swallowed another mouthful of food and noticed a distinct lack of tickle in the back of his throat. Breathing in through his nose he confirmed the case had come to an end. “Having the hiccups isn’t something that takes effort, y’know? I just, sorta, it just happens! And it-it doesn’t really bother me to have them. Not really. So, don’t think you’re expecting me to sacrifice myself to any sort of, I dunno, laborious physical action. Hiccups are just...part of my life, I guess. And having you admire them and get aroused by them is, well, really convenient!”

Atticus was facing him now. Their eyes studied him as he spoke. They took a breath, trying to take in the truth of what he’d said.

“You’re sure? They don’t...they don’t bother you too much?” they asked.

Otto shook his head enthusiastically, lowering his eyebrows in emphasis.

“No, man! Seriously! I would have them if you found them arousing or not! I’m just...glad they don’t annoy you. The fact they please you is sort of a bonus! For both of us! Cause...cause when you get all hot and bothered and flustered I just...mm. Man. It gets me really nng! Y’know?!” he said as he bounced in his chair a little.

“Oh, I know ‘nng’ all too well!” they said with a smile.

Otto chuckled.

“Well...I guess Happy Holidays, then! To both of us!” Atticus said.

“Happy Holidays,” Otto agreed emphatically. “And, who knows, we might get a couple more advent presents today. This little dome shaped muscle feels frisky.”

Otto rubbed under his ribs.

“Oof. You tease!” Atty exclaimed.

“I would never!” Otto rebuked.

“Careful. Santa Clause will get you for lying…” Atty said.

“Actually, no, that would be Krampus,” Otto said.

“...What’s a Krampus?”

“Oh my god...okay...so…” Otto started.

[chihoshisai]

♡ Perona's Diary ♡ ch1

Goth Family (Perona, Zoro, Mihawk)

cw: found family, light-hearted, comedy, fluff, chaos / wc : 2,466K / Other : you are welcome to send requests for this fic ! It is also on ao3 if you prefer reading there I'm having quite some fun writing about these three and i hope you enjoy !

Sober Bet

With dim candles lighting her room, Perona looked down at her journal. She sighed in annoyance, having finally written down the last events of a bet with no winner. A bet she started four days ago on a whim.  

That night at diner, Perona squinted her eyes towards Zoro. Ignoring his table manners, she instead took notice of the unreasonable amount of sake he was consuming. 

It was a regular occurrence during meals, and like many things Mihawk didn’t seem to mind – as his reserve of wine wasn’t a target – alcohol was cheap and quite easy to acquire, unlike his fine imported liquor. It was a normal dinner, really, except a thought crossed Perona’s mind. 

“How do you expect to train properly if you drink that much?” she raised an eyebrow towards Zoro. It had been a few days since the newly arrived housemate’s training began, yet he showed no sign of slowing down on alcohol. 

“That’s none of your business is it?” Zoro lowered his glass just enough to return an annoyed look. 

“Of course it is!” Perona slammed her fists on the table, owning her a look from Mihawk, and giving an apologetic one as an excuse. “If you get hurt because you’re hungover, I’m the one who’ll have to treat you!” Her tone dropped in anger. 

“Then you’re in luck, I never get drunk,” Zoro grinned before gulping the rest of his drink.

It irked Perona, “that’s what all alcoholics say,” she rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her food. “I’m sure you’re incapable of staying sober.” She shrugged. 

“Of course I can!” Zoro placed his glass on the table and stared defiantly at Perona, who sat across her. 

“Oh ?” She grinned back at him, “then let’s say a week. No drinks allowed. Not mixed with juice, or anything else for that matter.” 

“I would never mix my sake with juice!” Zoro said, baffled. It sounded like a blasphemy. 

“Urgh, I don’t care how you like your drinks,” Perona gritted her teeth, “do we have a deal or not?” She extended a hand across the table.

“Yeah,” Zoro promptly accepted the handshake, “you better leave me alone and not complain about my drinking after this.”  

“We’ll see,” she gave him a devilish smile, “in the eventuality you cheat I’ll hit you with my ghosts.” And as a way to further prove her point, she made one of her spirits run through his chest, leaving Zoro completely depressed.

“I’m sorry I can’t make myself more useful,” he whispered. Perona laughed gaudily at the sight, unaware of the second look from Mihawk she caused to come her way.

“Please do refrain from using your powers at the table,” he said in a calm tone.

“Jeez you’re no fun,” she gave him a pout. “You have to help me and make sure this guy doesn’t drink for a week.” 

“Well I guess I can do that much,” Mihawk directed his gaze towards the still sulking swordsman, who kept mumbling incomprehensible things. He grabbed his glass of wine, feeling somewhat bad for the guy, before bringing the tip to his lips. 

“This is gonna be so fun!” Perona said in a sing song high pitched voice. She knew exactly what she had to do.

After dinner, whilst Zoro and Mihawk busied themselves with the dishes, she quickly went unnoticed in the castle’s cellar and emptied it. Well not entirely. Leaving nothing but Mihawk’s wine, she made sure to not even accidentally brush the bottles, knowing damn well the warlord would notice. His wine was off limit. She did not want an earful. 

With discretion, she purposefully hid the bottles in her room. Like that, if Zoro was desperate enough, he’d have to manage to sneak his way in, only to be caught red handed. Perona laughed at the plan she devised, before having an inkling of the swordsman's thoughts and deciding to beat him at his own game.

That night, she stayed awake, carefully listening for any footsteps from the hallway. With faint candlelight illuminating her room, Perona kept herself busy with her Kumacy plush, fighting the urge to sleep, as the time neared 3 am. It wasn’t until then that she finally heard what she stayed awake for. Her prediction had proven correct. 

“Just you wait,” she promptly floated herself to the door and into the hall. Simpletons like him were so easy to predict. 

Without even trying to follow the figure, she knew the destination of the footsteps, as she flew lower and lower down the castle’s stairs to arrive near the cellar. With a grin, Perona kept herself hidden, until the moment Zoro would find his way here. Which in all consideration took a while. In fact, it took so long she began second guessing whether he wasn’t heading somewhere else – to do something like late night practice. But the thoughts got quickly interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the stairway. She watched Zoro open the door without even bothering to check his surroundings.

“Look at you, so sure of yourself that no one is following” Perona whispered to herself, with a silent laugh. 

Zoro disappeared in the room and Perona waited until he exclaimed in surprise before appearing in the doorframe. 

“There’s no sake?!” Both of Zoro’s eyes and mouth grew. He turned around in alarm, the second he heard the voice behind him.

“That’s right,” Perona had her hands on her waist, visibly proud of herself, “I got rid of it.” 

“You what?” Zoro couldn’t believe what he just heard. 

“No need to thank me for making it easier for you, cheater.” She said that last word with a grave tone. 

“Cheater?” Zoro scoffed, “I was looking for the toilet.” He crossed his arms. 

“Give me a break! The toilet is right next to your room!” Perona pointed a finger at him, feet stomping. “I know you didn’t just end up here by mistake.” 

“Whatever, what have you done with the alcohol?” Zoro gave her an impatient look. Surely she wouldn’t be foolish enough to waste that huge amount of liquor just because of a bet.

“Hmph, it's up in my room,” Perona gave him a satisfied smile, “but I’m not giving it to you even if you beg.” She swiftly floated next to him and teasingly poked his arm. “But if you’re that desperate, you’re free to have a taste of Mihawk’s wine.” She laughed, pointing in the direction of the finely stored bottles.

A shiver ran down Zoro’s back. He too knew. Mihawk’s wine was off limits. He did not want an earful.

“I don’t like wine.” He could swear the bottles looked somewhat ominous. “It’s something fancy people like that Cook like to drink.” For a split second, a slight wave of longing crossed Zoro’s at the mention of one of his crew members. Quick on the uptake, Perona wasted no time to take notice of it, but paid it no mind. 

“Right, and you’re far too distasteful for that,” she teased. 

“Shut up,” Zoro groaned. 

Annoyed, she floated in front of him and planted her finger on his chest, “you’re the one who decided to come down here to steal booze despite making a bet of not drinking any for a week!” She hurled the words at Zoro.  

“All I wanted to do was take one last look–” he began, eyes darting away. 

“Don’t try to play dumb with me!” She pressed her finger against his chest harder. 

Zoro said nothing. It was too humiliating being caught red handed.

“Cheater,” Perona whispered. Seeing as he persisted in saying nothing, she flew to the side and pointed towards the door, “now, go on to sleep. I’ll walk you back”  

“Don’t treat me like some kid,” Zoro said, yet he still walked towards the door per her instruction. 

“Then don’t get lost like one!” She followed behind, still floating. 

Sure of himself, Zoro took the wrong turn as soon as they came up the stairs, resulting in Perona grabbing him by the collar. “I’m tired, so I’ll drag you all the way to your room.” Giving instructions to a pirate with no sense of direction required too much energy. 

“Woah, hey!” Zoro tried to swat her hand away.

“Just bear with it!” She gripped the back of his shirt tighter. “Unless you want me to hit you with my powers!” The usual two or three ghosts who kept her company, loomed over Zoro. 

He gulped, “alright fine.” And with much reluctance he let himself be led to his room. 

“Listen,” Perona stood in front of his door with a warning look, “I’ll turn a blind eye to tonight, but you better not try and drink anything, are we clear?” 

“I get it so just go to sleep already,” Zoro yawned. It wasn’t until she gave him a last look that she left, curls flowing at her back to get her well deserved sleep.

-----

Day 1 — No attempts were made by Zoro whatsoever to try and infiltrate Perona’s room. Neither did he complain throughout meals about the lack of alcohol. His training was the same as ever too. The day went on as usual, leaving Perona to feel like a fool for safeguarding the liquor most of the day. 

Day 2 — Zoro’s normal behavior was probably due to how close his last drink was. At least that’s what Perona told herself, as she floated next to him for most of the day. He was now sober for 24h and yet showed no sign of withdrawal syndromes. Maybe he wasn’t an alcoholic after all. 

Day 3 — Zoro increased the time of his training, which didn’t trouble Mihawk, and still not a single complaint had escaped him. Perona had been waiting for the slightest opportunity to tease him, make his life harder and remind him of the bet he had taken. Yet as she looked at him training harder than the day before, she found her opinion of him getting slightly better. 

Day 4 —  Still nothing. If not for the increasing hours of training. It wasn’t until dinner time that Perona finally found a way to nag at him. 

“You’re staring,” she said matter of factly. Zoro had in fact been staring at Mihawk’s wine glass for a while now. His being filled with the usual tasteless water. He refused when offered juice, saying it would be no good for his body. As if alcohol wasn’t worse. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he turned his gaze back to his plate. Mihawk had raised his eye to look at the scene but remained silent. 

“You poor thing, don’t start wavering now.” She filled the room with her usual hollow laugh.

“Don’t pity me!” Zoro spit back.

Day 5 — Perona sat nearby, as she watched Zoro train for what seemed like the whole day. 

“Doesn’t he have nothing better to do?” she said to herself, “it's like all he does is train. And he’s so serious at it it’s not like I can bother him… or go see the other swordsman, as this one might try something.” She sighed, bored. These past days had truly been dull. 

Mihawk appeared from behind Perona, but she felt too lethargic to even glance in his direction. 

“You here to train him again?” She said emotionlessly. 

Mihawk took a few seconds to reply, “No.” 

“Mmh,” her voice trailed. She had no will to further encourage a conversation. The swing of Zoro’s sword in the wind along with his occasional grunts echoed through the silence. After a brief moment, in which Perona felt her eyelids become heavier, Mihawk made his way towards Zoro, and the latter instinctively stopped all movement. The surprising change of dynamic, grasped Perona’s attention, didn’t you just say you weren’t gonna train him, she thought to herself. 

Being close enough to earshot, Mihawk blandly said, “you’re training too much. That’ll do you more harm than good.”

“Even if I trained for a whole day it still wouldn’t be enough,” Zoro stubbornly replied. 

“Training for a whole day? That’s all you’ve been doing these past few days,” Perona complained, yawning from afar. 

“There is uneasiness in your swings,” Mihawk continued his speech, “All things considered you’ve done well so far.” 

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Zoro sheathed his swords, and looked at Mihawk with uncertainty. 

“But you can’t afford to slow your progress any more than this,” Mihawk gave him an astute look, before turning his back to Zoro, “Wait here, I’ll be back.” And without delay he made his way to the inside of the castle.

“What’s with him?” Zoro asked Perona.

“How should I know? Maybe you’re in trouble?” She shrugged. 

“I haven’t done anything that could make him mad.” Zoro wiped his forehead sweat with the back of his hand. “Not that I’ve ever seen him mad.” He added.

“Me neither.”

They exchanged a look. Has Mihawk ever been mad?

Almost as soon as he left, he returned with a bottle full of sake. Perona jumped to her feet. 

“Where did you get that?!” She exclaimed.

“Sorry, I went and entered your room without asking,” he simply stared at her dumbfounded expression, face still stoic before heading towards Zoro.

He knew. 

Of course he knew!

Perona went and grabbed the warlord's arm, “wait! Zoro’s not supposed to drink! It hasn’t been a week yet!” She tried to pull him away. “Don’t interfere!” 

“Even so, he needs it or his training will be further impacted.” Mihawk made no attempt to push Perona away. He simply continued walking, half dragging the ghost girl who started floating along the way. 

“What?” She frowned, “How are his training and alcohol related?” She refused to let go. 

“That’s the way he copes,” Mihawk simply said. 

Perona raised an eyebrow towards Zoro, “so that’s why you’ve been doing nothing but aimlessly swing your sword?”

“Or what? Was I supposed to walk into your room filled with those ghosts, get run over and make you have a good laugh out of it?” Zoro groaned.

So he knew about the ghosts she set as a trap. Perona’s eyes widened as she wondered when and how he had gotten a look at her room. 

“I’m not giving you a reason to make fun of me,” Zoro added.

“Hmph, if that’s how it is then I’ll find another way” She distanced herself from Mihawk who was finally close enough to give the drink to Zoro. 

“Thanks, for saving me from this woman’s stupid scheme.” He gave a light smirk towards the warlord who nodded in response. 

“It wasn’t stupid! In fact it proved that you’re nothing but a stupid alcoholic!” She fumed, her cutesy voice gone. 

“I already knew that a long time ago,” Zoro said, before drinking.  

Chapter 2

[whumpitisthen]

Auden's Story

Main Masterlist

Hell has consumed Earth as we know it. The Fallen are highly sought after as they are defenceless, weak and precious. They aren't meant to survive, and Auden doesn't expect his life to go on for much longer either. Fortunately — or rather unfortunately, — it seems someone special will not let him go that easily...

Character refs: 1 2 3 4

Grim: 1

General cw: creepy/intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, carewhumper, angel whumpee, demon whumper, nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, gore, torture, abuse, blood, manipulation, death, power dynamics, cannibalism (?), religious undertones and fucky headspaces related to god and such, (fantasy) medwhump, tiny whump, collars, slavery, dehumanisation, gay ass deities, I'll add more as we go i guess

0. The Prelude - Auden's fall

1. Mercy - Auden arrives in rather rough shape to the Dragon Queen's manor, where he finds himself being taken care of by a seemingly gentle enough demon healer :3

2. Thoughts of Resentment - direct continuation of Mercy, we meet Miss Thu'lin

2.5. Chess - written after Foreboding Intermezzo, but happens right before Grim shows up at Miss Thu'lin's. tiny whump, gore :)

3. Death Comes Knocking - cont. from Thoughts of Resentment, Grim introduces himself in a rather dramatic fashion, the Doctor dips

4. The Shepherd Wolf - cont. from Death Comes Knocking, Grim takes a basically catatonic Auden 'home' as the angel boy tries his damnedest not to have a meltdown, and fails!

5. Mori - cont. from The Shepherd Wolf, Auden meets a friend :)

6. A Lesson in Selfishness - cont. from Mori, Auden learns how to eat things! :)

7. Bloodhound - after A Lesson in Selfishness, Grim's pov, introducing His Majesty

8. Brazen Arrogance - direct cont of Bloodhound, we finally meet some humans, His Majesty is not happy

9. Foreboding Intermezzo - Mori and Auden get some time to themselves while Grim is away

10. Abhorrent - Grim and His Majesty are being gay in public, also some people die

11. Blasphemy - Auden in his panic calls for Grim after Mori passes out, Grim and Auden have a nice pleasant little conversation! :D

11.5. Limbo - our favourite angel boy seems to be losing touch with reality somewhat, but not to worry, Grim is there to ease all his worries :3

Related:

Sickeningly Sweet Ichor - an angel boy with a demon owner, very eerie and more horror than whump but i think thats a plus actually [this is older, but moved to auden’s horribly hurty adventures, im sure theres no reason for that dont worry about it]

Pearls of Maroon - oneshot, his majesty punishes some poor servant in front of an audience

~

Consider supporting me here <3

Taglist: @whumpsday @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpifi @sordayciega @a-miscellaneous-number-of-rats

@letitbehurt @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[hymemena]

Sadderday Lyric Sentence Starters Part One

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: General angst, self-deprecation, abandonment, abandonment issues, mental health, anxiety, smoking, drinking, blasphemy, death, cheating, lying, depression

—

Mike Krol - Fifteen Minutes

"What if I told you that the world was gonna end and you had 15 minutes to spend with me or your friends?"

"Would you take the first bus over to my house? Or would you take the last plane over the west coast?"

"It was over and done before we had a start."

"It goes on in my head."

"What if all the stars came crashing through the ground?"

"Would you believe me?"

"Would you believe me and come home and sit back?"

"I can't do this by myself."

"I guess we don't even need to use the phone."

"I don't need your answer, I'll be spending it alone."

Candi Carpenter - Nervous System

"I lie to my doctor about how much I drink and smoke."

"They ask about my income and level of education."

"In the Middle Ages, they used to do this thing called trepanation, a procedure where the surgeon drills a hole into your skull to let the evil spirits out and take the pressure off. The precursor to lobotomy before neurobiology."

"I have a nervous system. I'm nervous all the time."

"I'm just a cannibal eating myself alive."

"They say that life's a party, but I've always hated parties."

"I imagine a car wreck every time I touch my car keys."

"I don't want to go anywhere."

"When I check the captcha box that says I'm not a robot, I'm lying to myself and I'm lying to my laptop."

"I wonder if Sigmund Freud turned into his dad, too?"

AJJ - Rejoice

"God's ears are stitches!"

"Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you."

"This world will kill you."

"This world will tear you to shreds."

"Rejoice because you're trying your best."

"The bed you sleep in is burning."

"The sky's fucking falling!"

"Your father's been calling."

"You will not survive."

"You'll never make it out alive."

The Orion Experience Feat. ORION & Linda XO - The Queen Of White Lies

"I like the way you make me feel like I could be the number one game in town."

"All those pretty words you say to me, they pick me up whenever I'm feeling down."

"I know you're just a white witch putting that spell on me."

"You know I love the punishment, so keep telling me that you love me."

"Look deep into my eyes, say there's no one else above me."

"I'm the King/Queen of Fools 'cause Baby, you're the Queen/King of White Lies."

"You're like the Cheshire Cat."

"There's a devil that resides behind your smile."

"You've got them diamond eyes, they hypnotize your unsuspecting victims with style."

"I know I'm not the one and only game you're playing."

Citizen Soldier - I Hate Myself

"I wish that I had somebody to call when I am not okay."

"I wish that I had anyone who cared when I am in that place."

"I wish I could have a mental breakdown without turning my life into a ghost town."

"More than anything, I wish somebody loved me as much as I hate myself."

"I wish somebody listened as much as I go through Hell."

"I wish there was a person that would miss me when I can't leave bed."

"I wish I wasn't stuck sharing my secrets with these made-up friends."

"I wish I could be honest."

"These days, it's hard to have faith."

"The more I speak, the more I see just how alone I really am."

[lucifers-nipple-piercing]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 | 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘𝖙!𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 pt. 2

priest!Levi x fem!religious!reader smut

Sorry this took me so long to upload! college is crazy.

Also, I hope i'm still writing this correctly. I'm a dramatic writing minor (screenplays) so I'm used to using a different set of rules for writing (present tense, active voice, etc.) and it feels so weird to come back to creative writing lol

part 1

cw: non-con/coercion, sacrilegious, Catholicism, mild age-gap, corruption, virginity kink kinda,bit of a size kink, rough sex, blasphemy, 18+ only!!

Levi was certain you hadn't made eye-contact with him once.

You guessed it was Levi who had been in the confessional--a correct assumption, of course. You didn't know how you were supposed to look him in the eye after revealing something so embarrassing to him.

Your downward gaze was of no complaint to Levi; he didn't have to worry about you catching the sinful look in his eyes as he drank in the sight of your body.

You almost always wore skirts and dresses, but they were always floor length, maybe to your knees on a warmer day. Today, however, you were wearing a cute white dress that hung just above your knees. It was still arguably modest, but it was a change for you. Levi couldn't help but hope it was an intentional choice on your part... That you were asking for something.

"Here," He handed you a box of candles, "look around and replace any of the candles that are almost burnt out."

You nod obediently. "Yes, Father."

He watches with lust as you hurry away. He palms himself through his pants.

...

"I've finished withe the candles, Father!" You call across the sanctuary.

Levi looks up from the stack of hymnals he's sorting through. "Very good. Go organize the robes in the choir room. Just make sure they're all hung up. If any look dirty or wrinkled, pull them out."

You nod eagerly, "Yes Father!" You hurry out of the sanctuary.

Levi sighs, slumping back against the pew. He wonders what you look like under the soft cotton of your dress. How your thighs curve up to your ass and how your breasts move when you walk. His cock twitches. He groans.

He looks up at the stained glass Jesus. "Forgive me," he mutters, unzipping his pants. He moans as he pulls his dick out, stroking himself slowly. "Fuck..."

He knew he was big. It was nothing he was particularly cocky about, but he acknowledged it. He wondered how you'd take him, if you could take him. He wondered how tight you would feel wrapped around him. He pictured how your cute face would scrunch up as he penetrated you, the way your fingers would dig into anything within reach as you whined for him to slow down.

He moans, dropping his head back and closing his eyes. He picks up his pace as he imagines how you'd sound as you screamed his name.

"Father?"

He jumps, looking up. You stood in the doorway, staring at him in shock, your face glowing red.

Maybe it was how horny he was, but a strange wave of confidence rushed over him.

"Come here."

You stare in shock. "F-father, I--"

Levi's voice is deep and rough. "Come here, y/n."

You obey, timidly approaching him.

He starts to stroke himself again. "You didn't think that some simple cleaning would be enough to atone for your sins, did you?"

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, Father."

"Get on your knees."

You look up at him, eyes widening. You stay still.

Levi reaches up, pulling the white slip out of his collar. "You're a good girl, aren't you? Don't you want to be forgiven for your sins?"

"But, Father... it's wrong!"

Levi sighs, tucking his cock back in his pants and redoing them.

"Y/n..." He stands, stepping towards you. You step back. "I have prayed to the Lord for your forgiveness and I am simply executing his will. Who are you to deny him? To deny me?

You take another step back and bump into the pulpit. "Are... are you sure, Father? We're not--"

"'For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?'” He replies calmly. "The lord works in mysterious ways and it is not in the power of us to question him.

You nod slowly, fear evident in your eyes. Levi leans forward, caressing your jaw. "Kneel for me, angel."

You slowly drop to your knees, staring up at him with wide eyes.

He clenches his teeth as his dick strains against his pants. His heart is beating loudly in his ears. Fuck, you're pretty.

"Take it out."

Your lip quivers as you reach up to his pants, undoing them with shaking hands. His cock swings down, nearly hitting you in the face. You gasp, leaning back and bumping your head on the pulpit.

"Careful," he mummers.

"What do I do now, Father?"

"Put it in your mouth, angel."

"I..." you shake your head "I don't know... I can't!"

"Tsk." Levi sticks his thumb in your mouth, pushing your jaw down. You go slack, and he takes the opportunity to push his cock in.

"Oh, fuck!" He grunts. Your mouth is so fucking warm. So fucking soft.

You whine, tears welling in your eyes as he pushes back into your throat.

You gag, pushing him away. You cough, spit dripping from your lips. "'It's too much!" You whine, looking up at him with a pleading look.

He chuckles lowly, caressing your jaw and holding your face. Suddenly, he slaps you across the face.

"Ah! Wha--" you look up at him, hurt, but he interrupts you.

"Don't act coy now," he leans down, getting in your face, "just last night you told me how you touched yourself to the idea of being slapped around and fucked like a whore."

You whine pathetically as he shoves his cock back in your mouth, face fucking you.

He groans, admiring the way tears stream down your face. Your mouth is so nice, he can only imagine….

He pulls away, panting. He steps back, grabs your ankles and pulls you forward. You yelp as you slide down, landing on your back.

“Father Ackerman, please!”

He doesn’t know if it’s because you said his name or because of how cute you sound begging, but something in him snaps.

He grabs your plush thighs, forcing your legs apart. His hands slide up your legs, leaving goosebumps on your skin. He pushes your dress up, revealing your lacy white panties.

“Fuck…” he murmurs, tracing a finger down your cunt.

You moan, jerking away from his touch.

“So fucking wet for me.” He reaches to pull them down, but you grab his hands, trying to push them away.

He laughs, easily overpowering you. “Don’t act like you don’t want this…”

You hold your hand between your legs, shaking your head fervently.

His smile slips. He pushes your hands out of the way, grabs your panties with both hands and rips them in two, discarding the pieces to the side.

You struggle to escape his grasp, but he holds you in place, pushing your legs back to your chest.

His hands pin your wrists down as he brings his hips forward, brushing his tip against your soft pussy.

"Ahh!" You whimper, jumping as it pokes your clit. Levi chuckles, pushing forward into you.

You both let out a loud moan as his tip slides past your entrance.

"Ah, fuck, you're so tight!" Levi growls, pushing further into you. You whimper, writhing underneath him. He pulls out, watching the way you cling to him. He snaps his hips back in.

"Oh God!" You whimper.

Levi slaps you across the face, catching your jaw.

"I'm the only God I want you to worship right now, understood?"

You nod, flinching as he raises his hand again. "Y-yes! Yes, Father."

"Good girl," He mumbles, leaning down and meeting your lips in a passionate kiss. He pulls away, lips brushing against your ear.

"You love the way my big cock stretches you out, don't you, sweetheart?"

You're only able to let out incoherent whines and moans as he pounds into you.

"Yeah, that's it..." his voice is low and gruff "fuck"

He pulls out, flipping you over so your ass is in the air. He shoves himself back in, fucking you roughly.

"Oh, fuck!" You whine, fingers digging into the rug.

"What was that?" Levi hummed, leaning down, "Did you just swear?"

"'M sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Levi grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you up so your back is flush with his front. He whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your skin. "Such a filthy girl for me... I wonder what the congregation would think if they could see what you're really like."

You let out a particularly loud whine. Levi chuckles, pushing you down and rolling you back over. "Wanna see your pretty face." He sticks his dick back inside you, bringing his hand down your stomach and resting right above your pussy. He gently brushes his thumb over your clit.

"Oh, God! Please, please...!" you whine.

"Beg. Who's your god?

"The Lord is my--"

Smack!

"I said beg!" Levi thrusts hard, smacking your clit at the same time.

"Please, oh God, please, Father Ackerman, please!"

"Who's your god?

"You are, Father! You're my god!"

Levi growls in satisfaction. He spits on your pussy, rubbing quick circles on your clit.

"Oh god! Oh my god, Father!! Please, please It feels so good, oh god, don't stop.... Ah!" Your back arches as you cum, pussy throbbing around Levi's cock. He moans, watching as your face contorts into pleasure. "Father, stop! 'S too much I'm--Oh, god, It feels--"

You let out a loud cry as you gush around his cock, covering the front of his uniform. His eyes widen, watching as you writhe in over-stimulation and embarrassment.

"Shit!" He hisses, throwing his head back. He lets out a loud moan as hot cum shoots out into your pussy.

He breaths deeply, calming himself. He slowly pulls out and watches his cum follow, dripping down to your ass.

You look up to him with your sweet eyes, tears running down your cheeks and leaving mascara stains behind. "Father, am... Am I forgiven?"

Levi chuckles darkly.

"Not yet, angel."

thank you all for reading! sorry again this took so long. tag list for anyone who commented about part two: @lik0 @6lunita6 @themissinghippogriff @nneuwiller @rxcked @escapethemaddness420 @leviackermanst @doctorsunknown

[novemquadragintillion]

⚠️ major spoilers LotM 2: Coi - chp 1034 ⚠️

OK I'm still disappointed that Zhou/Klein couldn't tell the Tarot Club all his secrets himself, but damn!!! I'm ecstatic about Volume 6 overall!! Celestial Worthy despairing was SO GOOD. LUMIAN GOT TO MEET MR. FOOL!! AND LUMIAN GOT TO DRAW A MAJOR ARCANA CARD?!!!!! HELP THIS IS SO BADASS SJDJDJJSJSJSJ

He first drew "The World", drew again, and then drew The Chariot!!!! (I wonder if that will be major foreshadowing later..??). LUMIAN IS MR. CHARIOT!! :D So that's the card that represents the Red Priest/ Hunter pathway!!

The Empress card is for Franca in the future, for the Demoness/ Assassin pathway!!

LUMIAN GOES TO HIS FIRST TAROT CLUB MEETING!!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHHH

JUSTICE CURTSIES AND SAYS HELLO TO MR. FOOL AGAIN!!!!! 😭💖

Lumian meets Madam Temperance (Sharron!!), who I guess is a Tarot Club member with a Card too!!

Gehrman Sparrow/ The Fool appears at the end of the bronze table!!!! :') YESSSSSS

AND THAT'S THE END!! Holy shittt. I'm screaming internally <3 It's so cool that Lumian is The Chariot!! I like it!!! This is insanely exciting!! I wonder what will happen in the future now!! Lumian will continue to go after the Sq0 throne or Above the Sq throne, and the resurrection of Aurore!! He has to continue to look into the situation with the Primordial Demoness too.. why did the Demoness blur out the ritual process for Sq0 within the Card of Blasphemy I wonder? And meanwhile Lumian will have to eventually fight Medici... Sksjdjsjsjsjdj

What will Gehrman Sparrow do? Can he exist in the physical world and help?? It was depressing when Mr. Fool told Lumian that it's inevitable that Mr. Fool will lose against CW :( I hope he gets to live life more normally before that... will he and the other transmigrators ever get back home?

Meanwhile, I need to look for more Lumian fan art sometime!! I want to see depictions of him as or with the Chariot card, and the dream team with their 'modern' clothing :') Also Demoness Lumian, I'll look for that too!! ok time for me to stop rambling

[nirikeehan]

happy friday!!! can i request thalia/samson, the world tarot prompt? 🌎🔮💜

Once I stopped screaming, I decided to commit an atrocity. Then I made myself sad.

the world: fulfillment, experience, completion;  “Do you remember, back when…” possible AUs/settings/ideas: old age, happy end, fantasy world au

I'll just go ahead and spoil the game and say this will likely go at the beginning of the next chapter of Through a Glass, Darkly as a dream sequence Samson has. Any similarities to the opening scene of Witcher 3 is entirely intentional.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1142

CW: Implied misogyny, a tiddy or two, a fake child briefly in peril I guess???

---

The warm breeze wafted in through the open door to the balcony, bringing with it the smell of spring. Samson thought he might never get that scent again: the sea salt mingled with flowering juniper as it blew up from the Wounded Coast. The sunlight gauzy filtering through the was yellow as lemon. 

He stood in the tower of the keep, the chambers they’d chosen for their own. It had all the trappings of splendor: a four-poster bed; large, round tub in which to luxuriate; vanities and armoires and writing desks for the lady, and of course the large, taxidermied halla atop which some of their more adventurous love-making had taken place. 

How long had it been since they’d settled here? He chose not to remember. 

He moved freely, easily, with no armor nor burden. Weapon and shield had been lain down a number of years ago, and it was strange to admit he didn’t miss them. He had spent so much of his life fighting and scraping for survival, but he had traded it all in when the battles had been won. 

And of course, the main attraction. Stretched nude on her side on a chaise lounge, long hair wrapped in a towel from her recent bath, Thalia faced away from him, nose buried in a large tome. He admired the view, the shapely curve of her hip and ass, the barest hint of breast. 

He chuckled low in his throat. “That book really so interesting you couldn’t wait to put clothes on first?” 

“I don’t hear you complaining,” Thalia replied drily. 

“No, and you won’t, neither.” He sidled closer. The tilt of her neck was delicate and supple, her skin creamy soft. A fair number of years separated him from her, but that had never bothered them. He might be sliding gracelessly into old age, but Thalia remained as beautiful and nubile as the first time he saw her.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss on her neck, then her shoulder. “D’you think it’s odd, the way we met?” 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her voice was light and coy. 

“Oh, you do.” 

He gently pulled the towel from her head, letting the damp wine red waves fall down about her shoulders and back. He threaded one hand through her hair and with the other reached around to squeeze her tit. She let out a delicious sigh, arching her back into his touch. 

“Remind me,” she whispered. 

He buried his face in her scented hair. “We were trying to kill each other,” he murmured. “You and that bore of a Commander, you were trying to find a way to break my armor. And I was working for a deluded monstrosity who fancied himself a god.” He felt a thrill of triumph, saying the words aloud. Like uttering blasphemies in the middle of Chantry service. 

Thalia dropped the book and twisted around to face him. She threaded arms around his neck and pressed herself close to him. “Ah, yes. I do remember now.” She threw her head back and looked at him through coquettish lashes. “I’m glad we managed to get past that, aren’t you?”

Maker, he wanted to take her right here, on this damn reclining chair. He climbed onto it beside her, and she pulled him down, giggling. 

“Don’t forget,” Thalia murmured in his ear as he showered her with kisses, “you’re wanted in the yard.” 

Samson groaned, halting with his lips on her clavicle. He rose above her and gazed down, annoyance mixed with fondness. “I bloody forgot.” 

“You forgot sword practice? For shame.” Thalia wriggled beneath him, smiling brightly — the little tease. 

He pushed himself to sitting, scrubbing a hand down his stubbly face. “She’s your daughter. What’s she need with swords? Can’t she just—?” He waved his hand around in a vague approximation of what it seemed to him mages could do. 

“She’s your daughter too.” Thalia leaned down beside him to retrieve her book. He watched the graceful curve of her back, the spring to her bosoms as she righted herself. “And she wants to learn swordplay.” 

Samson sighed, squinting out the round archway to the sweet morning. “She’s probably at the smithy anyhow, with Maddox.” 

The name hit him like a sour note in a pleasant melody. His chest twinged. Why should Maddox be here? The poor lad is—

“Teaching her everything he knows,” Thalia finished, although he hadn’t spoken aloud. Or had he? He stared at her, confused, but her pretty head was buried again in the wide, heavy tome. “You think soon she’ll start bringing us those little paper cranes he makes?” 

Samson stood, unsettled. “I never told you that.”

“Never told me what?” She did not look up. 

“The cranes. I never told anyone. That even after they made him Tranquil, he could still—” Samson broke off, his throat tight. 

“Love, what are you talking about?” Thalia gazed at him, wide eyes as blue as the day’s azure sky.  

“Nothing,” Samson said quickly. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head. “I’ll go check on the little one.”

He left her, strolling to the tower balcony that would lead him down to the inner bailey. Samson curled his fingers around the marble balustrade’s edge and fought his growing sense of unease. Everything was fine. Everything was bleeding perfect. Why did he have to ruin it? Why did he always have to—

A glint of red below drew his attention, and Samson caught sight of her: the tiny ragamuffin, with a mop of curly hair that matched her mother’s, but his dark eyes. She was dressed in old Templar recruit leathers — Maker knew where’d she’d got those — and proudly hoisted a wooden sword over her shoulder. She waved at him in the bright sunshine, flashing a gap-toothed smile. Nine, now, maybe? Or ten? The years hardly mattered anymore. 

“You comin’ down or what, Papa?” She sounded born and bred in Lowtown, just like him. 

“In a minute, sweetling.” Samson wanted to savor this moment for a little longer. Before… before what? 

The red of her hair captivated him — the deep scarlet, pulsating almost, like the veins that had cut through the towering crystals. Lyrium. Red lyrium. When it had once threatened to consume the world. 

A cloud passed over the sun; the sky darkened, and Samson’s mouth drew as dry as ash. “Wait. No. No, this isn’t right…”

There was a great crack of thunder. The blue sky disappeared, as did the thick tree line that extended toward the horizon. Above, clouds roiled in grey and green. The little one let out a scream. Surrounding her were the great glowing crystals, extending up and up, overtaking the walls of the keep, choking out the forest, blotting out what was left of the sun. 

[babsvibes]

Rather than inkwells for Tina or cakes for Gene, a hare sprang free. Breathing rapidly with wild eyes, the animal froze in its new surroundings.

“I seek the aid of Louise, god of fortune, strategy, and chaos.”

Prompt - Spitfire

[eikotheblue]

Some chat snippets from a tabletop game I was in

Lightweaver: "Given the nature of the thing I wish to warn you about, it is necessary that I first warn you about the warning."

Lightweaver: "Retat can you save me from my friends?" Retat-OSC: "Salvation is highly variable. Please specify utopia."

Mr. Damus: "Other questions we often get include things like, 'Hey, I think I've been infected by criminal memes by the Great Weabrain. Am I going to be executed?'And the answer to that is that we work hard to avoid executing anyone. Last year, we killed only thirty-six metahumans for legal violations, while suddenly rehabilitating four thousand more." 

(From Kathleen O'Toole): UNMETA has him listed as Tinker 7 with a note that his specialty is unknown and his powers in combat vary wildly. He's listed as having bested some of the best heroes alive in hand-to-hand by using a 'hobo buzzer attack'

Lightweaver: "I don't understand how this could harm us, but I think the whole deontological injunction from making deals with the devil thing comes about from people saying the thing I just said and then still getting fucked."  

Sugaryanhu: "Attention! Due to an exciting series of international war crimes, your homes will be destroyed soon! Please gather your belongings and gather outside Salt Lake City. Please remain calm. Nothing of value will be lost."

Senator Fulton: "Tell my daughter that isn't that I hypothetically love her if she existed and if she comes home I know someone who's always wanted a sister."

Mercades Serandipidee: "Okay, so, here's the situation as you've all described it. Senator Fulton is locked away researching some kind of dark magic ritual. Anubis is lying on the couch waiting for the world to end. Yoko and Jessica are doing something in the bedroom all the time and won't say what. Some big country is about to attack some other big country. Then a fungus-angel will kill everyone."

Alexander: "Yeah this sounds about right."

Mercades Serandipidee: "And then the Devil is going to fire a train into spaaaaaace."

Secret Google Kill Squad Member: "Keep looking for anything which survived. Remember our company's secret real motto: 'Actually, do be evil.'"

Sugaryanhu: "And she made ME do the administrative stuff! So borrrrrrrrrring. Who cares if refugees need food? UGH." Sugaryanhu laughs through the intercom system Sugaryanhu: "Just kidding, not going to let anyone starve. They're fun! And terrified."

Adam Dunmont: "I know why you've come here.” Lightweaver: "Wait, you do?" Adam Dunmont: "You've come here on the say-so of that tyrant, Obama." Lightweaver: "Uh, no? I work for a chat program that works for my boss.""Which is not the government." Amasis: "We also don't give a shit what Obama wants, and also I don't like him very much? He punched my maybe-dad, probably. It's unclear." Alexander: "Obama still hasn't let me take a picture of him." Lightweaver: "You've clearly overestimated us." Adam Dunmont looks momentarily confused, then sneers even harder. Lightweaver: "Happens a lot. Honest."

Manager Gabe: "I suppose introductions are in order. I am the Archangel Gabriel." Sugaryanhu: "They know." Manager Gabe: "And I would like to leave this isle." Sugaryanhu: "I know." Manager Gabe: "Don't be so sardonic, my dear little computer. I believe it was Providence which trapped you all here with me. And therefore, I believe that same Providence will provide us all with an escape." Sugaryanhu: "um, just gonna say, this would be more convincing if you didn't have a track record of complete lack of regard for human life?"

Lightweaver: "I think you might be under a mental compulsion as a side effect of the power you stole." Alex: "u think? ive got some dumb craving to steal a bunch of shit i dont care about" Lightweaver: "Can you stop? We're going to get in trouble. Well, you are."

Seconds later, another explosion belches forth a torrent of pink lawn flamingoes, ending in a solid gold one for some reason?

Alex: "cant stop, the urge is pretty much overpowering"

[elizabethrobertajones]

our lord jesus christ

Well I don't know him personally but in no particular order my top ships for this bloke:

Castiel Supernatural

The guy who kissed him in the Bible (I assume on the mouth, I never read it but I've seen clips of the musical of it)

Mary Magdalene because that foot washing thing did a number on me in school assembly when I was like 7 and paying half attention until our headteacher got really into describing the scene, and I never understood later why everyone made a big deal out of the ship wars on this one because I thought it was canon.

[deliriumcordias]

and I start to wonder

do you love your "God" more than you love Me?

if that's the case, renounce your faith

I'm all that you will ever need.