#but its like.....i do gotta hear their version too

[blackheart-6]

dess-ember day 31/31

very long thoughts below the read more!

hi yall

woo-hoo, ive finished another month of dess-ember!! it really has been fun, if very time consuming, but ive made many pieces over this month ive loved and had a great time sharing them all with yalls 😄😄😄

but anyways, lets get to the final entry! its a bit of an unusual one :D

its some pixel art!! i have only done 2 other pixel things this month (i originally wanted to do more, but i am very slow at it 😔), so i felt like ending with it wasnt a bad way to go!

i took dess, noelle, berdly, kris, ralsei, and susie and made some different sprites of them, which were taking the way i draw them and making them into sprite version, and also me making omori style versions as well

i had a couple different versions of the art, layed out in different ways, but stinky tumblr only lets me have 10 images. unfortunate 😔.

but anyways, now weve got the main part, each individual character! you can skip past this if you dont want to hear my thoughts i had while doing the individual drawings, its kinda alot :/

i put them all in a format like this, hopefully it isnt confusing!

we can go in order of how i have them in the very first image, so we can start with kris :D

kris was a very fun one to do, they were actually the second one i made, and them turning out so well is what led me to making even more. i feel like im pretty much entirety happy with them, the omori style turned out cute, and the deltarune style isnt half bad either! i did forget to give them bangs though, like i normally give them in my art, but i was too much of a bum to go back and fix it after i finished :|. i feel like they translated very well ❤️

next would be ralsei, but im doing him last actually, because he has the most to talk about 😤😤

now weve got susie! her hair in her canon form was tricky to translate into the omori style, but i think it was worth it, cause it turned out well! and i think her canon dark world omori sprite might be my favorite i made, her outfit turned out great!! im not as fond of my versions of her design, they didnt translate that well into sprites, but it could be worse lol. her face was a bit difficult to do, since the omori head shape is meant for a human, but i think she turned out good regardless 💜

next is berdly, and im so sorry for him, he turned out roughhh. if i thought someone like susie, with her head, was hard to translate into the omori style, it was nothing compared to trying to turn berdly into it. with his beak and his head feathers and wings and his legs... yeah, it was not a fun time 😔. i tried though, and i dont think its entirely bad! the legs are probably the worst part, they are kinda hard to see, but the rest of it came together... kinda. dont get me started on turning my version of him into a sprite though, i dont wanna talk about it 😫. sorry berdly, if i ever sprite you again ill make it up to you 🩵

next is noelle! she was the first i did, and i feel like she turned out so cute 🥰🥰🥰. her dark world, my version, deltarune style sprite might be my second favorite one i made, i think it actually translated well to sprite art. her fur is a bit rough, gradiants are tough in pixel art, but i dont think its that bad overall. but yeah, im pretty happy with her 🤎

penultimatly, weve got dess! gotta have her, its dess-ember after all!! hers was hard to do, trying to take my own design and alter it to make it more canon (mostly, i just simplified some things, but i dont think it looks enough like a canon sprite :( ill keep trying with it), but i think she turned out cute as well! im not entirely happy with it though, as i said, i might go back to fix up the deltarune styled ones at some point 💚

lastly, weve got ralsei. ohhh ralsei, how cute you are, but how difficult you were 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫. to start off with, i had a goal in mind for the deltarune style sprites. normally, when you look at the canon ralsei sprites, you might notice they look a bit different. obviously theres the hat, and the fur color, but its more than that.

theres so many differences, and yet my goal was to make the sprites lose all those differences, and be more consistent with each other. i didnt think it would be too bad, but it was a rough time. i made his hatless version easily, and i was like, oh, ill just add a hat, change his color, itll be easy!! ...it was not easy 😶‍🌫️. i did that and he looked so wrong, it barely even looked like hat ralsei at all 😖.

i mean, that doesnt look right, right?? so i had to keep editing, and changing both versions, trying to make them better. i spent so much longer on him than anyone else, but at the end, i think it was worth it! i feel like he ended up adorable, but boy was it work 😂

the omori sprites of his were pretty easy though, once i had all the deltarune sprites down i just omori-fied them, took barely any time. i did make his outline purple though, like the headspace denizens, since hes a darkner 🩷

but thats it for that! this is where youd wanna skip if you didnt wanna read all that lol. now for me to yap about this month, and dess!

i feel like this was a pretty productive dess-ember!! i definitely ramped up my art from last year, trying to do as few small drawings as possible. was that a mistake? maybe lol. it was certainly difficult, and led to pretty much every drawing being late because most of them took like 8 hours or so, but i suppose a couple hours late doesnt affect much, and i still did all 31 entries!

and id say while it was a struggle, it was a good thing i did it! i enjoyed my time drawing, and sharing all my art with yalls is always a fun time for me ^^ and i really do like drawing dess, i think i made a pretty good design for her all those years ago (like 2) 😊

there is the question though, of 'what about next year? will you do this again??' and to that i say... i dont actually know haha. i would want to, even if im busy i could always do a smaller one, but the real thing that could affect it is that, in 2025 we are getting more deltarune!!! im more excited than i could ever say, but if we see dess in canon, then i dont know if ill do another dess-ember. there would be my design vs canon design, which would be strange to reconcile with, and i imagine someone would probably do an official month for her of art prompts.

but thats all if she even appears. if she doesnt, well, expect me back next december to do this! if she does, ill have to think about it, so we will see then ^^

anyways, ive had a good month doing this! it may be a bit before i post new art, to give myself a break, but ill be back 😄

bye yall, and happy new year 2025!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[ipoddymouth]

nooooooo but the way the matty healy misinformation committee has taken off.....election season gonna be fuckin AWFUL

[crunchycrystals]

theories on what taylor swift WON'T play as a surprise song

see title. i just wanted to talk lol

dear john (after the speak now tour she said she didn't want to perform it anymore because it was really emotional, i'm assuming thats still true)

the moment i knew (same as dear john except it's never been performed live)

soon you'll get better (i have no basis for this it just feels like a lot)

me (me putting this on the list is mostly just wishful thinking lol but it was a big single and it wasnt on the main setlist)

ronan (same as sygb, it's a lot for a song)

thats all i got rn lol

[bmpmp3]

hold on. hold on im shifting into vocaloid mode. hold on

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 15)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Sleep eludes you. You toss and turn that first night, not used to sleeping on your own. Every sound makes you jump. When the sky goes black and the bushes rustle with the breeze, you have to double check the locks on the doors no less than three times, fastening it with the wooden bolt just to be safe. 

Without John around, the world is twice as loud; crickets chirp raucous melodies, buzzing so loud that sometimes you swear there must be one on the pillow right beside your head, and, in the distance, an owl hoots at an interval so irregular that each screech tugs you back from the brink of sleep. The house groans as it settles into itself; the first time you hear it, you spring upright in bed, heartbeat erratic, certain that it’s the sound of someone coming up the porch steps. 

You collapse back onto the mattress with a huff when you finally recognize the sound for what it is. 

You don’t sleep well that night. Dawn finds you awake before its arrival. The songbirds keep you from drifting off back to sleep when the first wispy rays of sunlight creep over the horizon, and you lie in bed until the possibility of sleep is well behind you. That makes you huff, bitter over the loss. 

Again, the day is slow to come over you. It seems almost reluctant to really get going, the sunlight clear and the air brisk but the day itself slow moving. An early morning chill forces you to don heavier garments than usual. 

After breakfast, you take Buttercup into the paddock to run around, watching her from the edge of the pen, humming to yourself under your breath. 

Most of the morning is spent cleaning and doing chores around the house. You muck the stables, feed the horses, scrub the dirty laundry on the washboard before hanging it up on the line, weed the garden, and promise yourself that next week you’ll work up the energy to boil linseed oil to polish and oil the furniture. As it is, you stagger into the kitchen around midday for lunch, sticky with sweat. 

Kate comes up the path on horseback not too long after that, a large swooped hat perched precariously on her head. She has to hold it in place by the brim to keep it from flying off. You watch her from the window at first, drying your hands from the quick wash you gave them after finishing your lunch.

“I ought to start making new friends,” you quip when she takes a seat next to you on the porch swing. 

“Sick of my company already?” she laughs. 

“Well, a girl’s gotta have options.” 

She snorts at that, tipping her hat lower on her head to shade her eyes from the sun. It has the effect of cutting a wide shadow across her face, leaving only a swath of white teeth exposed. 

Her beauty has always come as an afterthought. Tanned, freckled skin, and hair like golden wheat. But you look now and you see something different than the woman you’re used to seeing, and it dawns on you that what you’re seeing now is a version of Kate divorced from the idea of her that you’d always had in your head. Almost fuller; more robust. 

You tear your eyes away only when she catches you staring and cocks an eyebrow. 

She coaxes you into saddling Buttercup up and accompanying her on a trail ride. Part of you resists initially, still wounded from your last ride, and when Kate presses you for more information, you reluctantly divulge, recounting the events from the weeks prior with a tremble in your voice. She nods only once while you speak, keeping her comments to herself. That she must have already known doesn’t surprise you; she’d insinuated as much only the other week. 

You’d be wise to not keep secrets from Kate in the future, you realize. Best to keep someone as omniscient as her on your side. 

After some encouragement, she talks you into a leisurely stroll and even helps you dress Buttercup in the stables. The dizzying spell of apprehension settles over you like a heavy fog up until you blink and realize that the two of you have been riding beside each other in silence for the better part of a half mile. 

The fear doesn’t entirely evaporate, however. Any sudden dip in the terrain or unexpected noise from Buttercup makes you start. You take several breaks to breathe and walk around. At the top of a hill, you ask Kate in a voice verging on shrill if you can take a break and dismount before she’s even answered you. 

“She can sense if you’re on edge,” Kate reminds you, nodding to where Buttercup grazes in a nearby patch of grass. 

“Well, I can’t help that much. I am on edge.”

She tips her head back to look at the sky and sighs before looking back at you. “Sit down for a bit then. It’s not a race.”

And you do, for a spell. You sit and rest with your back against the trunk of a tree that branches high above you, the canopy blotting out any sunlight save for the tendril thin strands that sink through like stones in water. 

You’re striking a delicate balance between the needs of the flesh and the needs of the soul. What the soul wants is to push itself beyond the boundaries that formerly enclosed it; after a lifetime of servitude and desires suppressed, even a simple trail ride feels momentous. What the flesh wants, however, is to shade in the shade until the urge to retch wears off. 

The walk takes the two of you by a farm with a large, fenced-in enclosure. A couple houses sit around the enclosure. The smell of the livestock is pungent at first and your nose wrinkles as you approach the farm, but you adjust after a time. 

Recent weeks so far from home have spoiled you; back in the city, the pungent stench of waste and manure was commonplace, the sour cloak of tobacco stinking up the alehouses and alleyways as much as the parlors and lounges. You’d adjusted to it back then as well. 

The grazing cows rumble and low behind the fence. It’s a pleasant bucolic scene, one lifted straight from a painting that you swear you’ve seen before, though the artist’s name escapes you. 

Looking out into antediluvian pastures sets your heart at ease. When the farmer wanders out of the barn to greet the two of you, the two of you join him and his wife for coffee in the big house. 

For a brief period of time, it’s like stepping out of your body; there’s no impetus to get a move on, and inertia doesn’t set in like a rolling fog leaving you stranded in no man’s land. Nothing like the late evenings lying in bed in your aunt and uncle’s apartment, staring up at the pockmarked ceiling and praying for something to change. 

You, simply, have a coffee.

After bidding them farewell, the bulk of the afternoon is spent at Kate’s house, a tiny plot of land just outside of town surrounded by fields of ochre prairie grass. You’re wiped by the end of the ride, sweat running in rivulets down your back. While Kate brings the horses into her little stable to let them rest and eat, you fill up the porcelain bowl in her bathroom with water to wash your face. 

It’s quiet. You help with a few affairs around the house and you learn, to your own internal amusement, that Kate hums through her chores. Soap stops by in the early evening to drop off Kate’s mail and stays for supper, glad for the company. You watch bemusedly as he scarfs down three corned beef sandwiches with ease, mildly nauseated by the way he talks with his mouth full. 

“Can he even breathe?” you hiss to Kate while Soap is busy shoveling food into his gob. 

She nods, unbothered by the display in front of her. “You should see him when he’s actually hungry.”

You pale when he belches, pushing your plate away from you.

“Ye tell yer man when he’s back what a good job I’ve done, Mrs. Price,” he says, licking a leaking trail of sauce off his thumb. 

“Won’t the town still standing be sufficient evidence?”

“Aye, but it’s sweeter comin’ from the missus, ye dinnae think?” 

Incorrigible boy. You shake your head, acquiescing even if only to get him to shut up. That mollifies him, gets him crowing about the raise he’ll get, or the commendation. You think he’ll start going on about lofty aspirations towards sheriffdom, but he never quite gets to that point. You wonder if the rest of your life will be similarly composed of assumptions that fall flat when you look at them too hard.

He takes you home at the end of the night as a favor to Kate, who watches you from the door until she disappears into the faraway. You only have to yell at Soap twice to slow down when he tries to goad you into a faster gallop. 

You sleep better that night, but only just. This time, it’s the empty spot beside you on the bed that bothers you. His pillow is cold when you reach over to touch it. Your hand lingers on the pillow; there’s a passing thought that maybe the warmth of your hand will transfer into the pillow and trick you in sleep. You have another passing thought that maybe somewhere out there, wherever John is, he’ll feel a phantom hand creep across the bed to cup his cheek. 

The blooming flower of daylight comes again to wake you up and the cycle starts anew. 

The chores never end, but there’s some comfort in routine. Regularity breeds familiarity. Any contempt has long been bled out of you, almost without you even noticing.

The days pass slowly. A horse-drawn carriage. A robin nestled in the branches of a pine tree sings at evening twilight. You look up to find it stark against the dark green needles, the fir’s red heart.

A neighbor comes by with fresh strawberries that you eat from the bowl out in the sun, lying down in the grass by the paddock. You suck the juice out of a big one when you bite into it and it drips messy down your chin. When the achenes fleck off, you wipe them off on your dress. 

Though you half expect Kate to come by, she never does. Perhaps she’s busy in town. You remind yourself that the brevity of your friendship can hardly measure up to competing priorities. Minding the shop, for instance, or stopping by to check on other acquaintances. 

And then the waiting ends when you see a dark shadow on the horizon that you recognize all at once as a man on horseback headed towards the house. 

Elation clambers up your throat. You very nearly shout at the sheer sight of him, but at the last second, you manage to reign it in. 

You wave at John from the porch when you can finally make out the face of the man riding up the path. Despite the euphoric wave that washes over you at the sight of him, you feign composure, keeping your butt planted on the porch swing until he dismounts and heads down the path towards you.

There's something striking about watching him from a distance. Like Kate, you see him now from a new angle, an added weight to him. When he lumbers up the porch steps, you don't just see the man that dragged you to the court house and forced you to marry him, but a man in his prime. Square, masculine jaw; thick thighed. Something in your belly stirs when he rolls his shoulders back, accentuating the breadth of them. 

When he reaches you, he grips you under the arms to pull you up, but your arms wind around his neck without any coaxing, meeting him halfway. Every inch of your body presses into his, and he smells and feels exactly as you remembered. 

“Been missing you like hell, sweetheart,” John rasps into your ear. 

“Missed you too,” you mutter, lips smushed into a kiss against his cheek. 

And you did, didn’t you? You can say it for once without worrying that you’ll fall apart. 

The two of you stumble into the house in a daze. Your hands are already trembling well before you fist them into John’s hair to drag him into a kiss. Desperation claws up your throat, need choking you when you go to tell him how much you missed him. You missed him bone deep. 

He pulls away briefly, chuckling when you whine. “Darlin’, can I at least get cleaned up? I’m a mess.”

His beard has grown since you last kissed him, the mutton chops more pronounced now. It scratches your lips and cheeks when you tug him back down for a deeper kiss. He can clean himself later as far as you’re concerned. You’ve gone three days now without your husband and you can’t go a second more. 

You can feel his smile when he breaks the kiss again. “Honey—”

“No,” you cut him off, a whine threading your voice. You tighten your arms around his neck, pushing your bosom into his chest. “Please, John, don’t make me wait; I can’t—”

“Alright, alright,” John sighs, and then hunches slightly to fit his hands under your thighs  and hike you up his body until your legs wind around his waist. “Poor girl. Never seen you this needy before. You missed me that bad?”

“Yes,” you answer succinctly, already pressing kisses into the sweaty skin of his neck and his cheeks. His arms shake when he laughs.

He nearly trips up the stairs when you suck at the salty skin of his neck. 

John smiles amusedly when you whip your dress off, nearly getting tangled in it before letting it pile on the floor by the bed. 

In a different time, your eagerness might embarrass you, but you’re well beyond that now. It’s impossible to hear that distant voice in your head shrieking modesty when your husband watches you indulgently and unbuttons his shirt so slowly that you nearly bark at him to hurry it up. And then you actually do when he goes to fold his shirt instead of simply tossing it to the floor.

He laughs; it sends frissons of heat down your spine. 

It’s unclear who pursues and who is pursued this time. All you know is that you either push him onto the bed or he pulls you down with him, clothes long since stripped and piled onto the floor. Your hands sink into the meat of his chest when you sit astride his lap, wet folds grinding on the hard shaft jutting up between his legs. John hisses through clenched teeth, already worked up, fit to burst. You wonder if he tended to himself at all on his trip, whether he even had time. 

The hands tightening around your waist tell you that, whether or not he did, it’s inconsequential now when faced with the thing he’s been wanting most.

Your instinct is to lift your hips and line his member up with your sopping entrance before sinking down, but John surprises you by shifting up the bed and dragging you with him, not stopping until your pussy is hovering over his mouth. 

It’s easy to panic over that, easy to grow skittish. You start when the flat of his tongue runs up the seam of your cunt, the only thing keeping you from tumbling off the bed altogether being the big hands clamped around your hips.  

“You try to keep your pussy off my face and I’ll give you a licking you won’t like anywhere near as much,” John warns, and then pulls you down onto his face without further ado. 

Your back arches at the first lick, his tongue burrowing into your hole, softened by the slick leaking out of you. His lips and tongue work you over until you’re a shivering, coiled mess on top of his face, hands braced against the wall and toes burrowing into the mattress. 

A stiff tongue stabs up into your hole. The groan he lets out at the taste of you vibrates through you, making you clench around his tongue. 

You’ve never been much of a drinker, but you feel drunk now, grinding on his mouth. Hands running through his hair. Blissed out, sex leaking, throbbing. Shameful noises pouring out of you unbidden, your inhibitions packed up and long gone by now. His upper lip glistens with your juices and when his eyes blink open, they’re nearly black with desire. 

The hands on your bottom holding you over his head grip into you good and tight. He readjusts his hold on you whenever you try to pull off his face, yanking you back down and digging his fingers in harder, the tips wedged between your cheeks. You practically yowl when a finger prods at your back hole, worrying over the puckered flesh. 

The time for gentle words is far beyond him. When you glance down between your legs, his hair is matted with sweat and disheveled, a flush high on his cheekbones. Blue eyes peer out through slits, locked on the dripping mess between your thighs. His nose presses hard into your pubic bone when he pulls you down onto his waiting mouth, lips parting and tongue sawing over your clit. That part you can’t see, but you feel the wet slide of his tongue over your slit. 

You come with a finger lodged knuckle deep in your ass and his tongue rolling over your clit, coaxing it from you. Your whole body pulses and shivers. Chuckling to himself when you go dumb during it, slumped over him and panting hard. Tears dripping down your cheeks that John cleans up himself with his tongue when he drags you back down his chest and rolls the two of you over. 

“God, you look so pretty like this, honey,” he coos when he’s got you under him, pinching your cheeks between his fingers until your lips go plump and pursed. 

When he drags you into a kiss, his tongue still tastes of you. 

He takes you on your back after that, knees over his shoulders and bending you in ways you didn’t think possible. Whatever control he had before is gone now. He thrusts in to the hilt the second he gets you flat on your back, taking three days of frustration out on you, near punching your cervix with the head of his cock. 

“There we go— fuck—” John growls. “C’mon, squeeze me tight, honey; make me come in your pretty fuckin’ pussy.”

You feel like a creature turned inside of itself. All high yips, sharp pangs of pleasure, an ache in your hips that you know instinctively will worsen by morning, and a deep seated, unquenchable need. He mates you like a beast in heat, jaw clenched and brows furrowed; when your eyelids slip shut, he growls at you to keep them open, and you do only to find him staring down at you with that indelible, maddening intensity of his. 

“Nngh, John—John—” you gasp.

“Just a little, darlin’—shh, c’mon, just take it. Like that, yes—that’s it.” 

A dark urge flutters under your skin, blinking its eyes open. You stare up at him through half lidded eyes. “Gonna come in me and give me a baby, John?”

His eyes go black. “I’m gonna fill this tight cunt right up, you keep talking like that.”

You reach up to rake your hands through his hair. "Please give me a baby, John. Give me it, please."

His hips snap forward, knocking the breath out of you. He pounds into you with renewed vigor, lost in it, your nipples tagging his chest with every thrust. 

If you could peel back your skin and tuck him into your ribcage, you would. He’s already in you anyway; everywhere it counts. Leathery musk wafting under your nose, sweat-slicked skin, his spend deep in your cunt and leaking out around his throbbing cock, the heat steaming off him and warming you from the outside in and inside out. His come spurts into you hot and viscous, so deep that you swear you can taste it at the back of your throat. 

In the aftermath, you curl up against his chest and he traces a finger lazily up and down your spine. 

“You’ve been so patient with me.” You don’t know what prompts you to say that, but you know it’s been sitting in your chest and waiting for you to put it to words. 

His fingers pause in their ministrations, his hand resting flat on your back. “Patient?”

“Don’t play dumb, John. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Got some nerve accusing me of playing dumb,” he chuckles softly, leaning down to butt his forehead against yours. 

You nearly go cross eyed. Doe eyed. Treacle tart soft in your chest. You wonder if you’ll look back on this someday in fear and awe, and think that is the very moment when you finally let him in. 

This is how love suffuses into the girl: you wake up gasping to find it staring down at you. 

You’re brave enough now to ask what it is that you need. The world flashes briefly before you: in it, you see every possible version of a girl, how she goes from animal skin to teeth glinting in the night. She is perforated and vibrating; lacunae as the voice drips back into the sea, papyrus crackling hot in the fire. 

Maybe new love flounders again against the rhythms of the old, the song of you now sleeping beneath an alder tree, thickening with lemon and honey.

“I’m going to…—you know I’ll tell you. I just need time.”

“Darlin’, I know. There’s no use for rushing things. It happens when it happens,” John murmurs. He drops a bristly kiss on your forehead. 

“���And if it doesn’t happen?”

He shrugs. “Then it doesn’t happen.”

It’s a shock when love finds you because you don’t expect it. You’d open the door to anything else in a heartbeat, but it’s love that finds you cowering under the stairs. 

Love is not something you’ve ever touched, not even grazed. You recognize the insidious rot of lust or the gnarled grip of possession, but love? That has yet evaded your attempts on it. Not that you’ve ever given it a good go. 

But now, when you think of it, it looks at you through blue eyes. 

You sleep on it. You don’t contemplate when it’ll happen only because you know it’s inevitable. Your lips have already grown loose. When he eats you out in the early morning hours after a good night’s sleep for once since John left, you have to swallow back the wails of I love you, I love you, tell me you love me, please, please. 

Your lips part, lax. Only sinking your mouth down over his turgid length after he’s made you come keeps you from accidentally saying the words. The soft, grunted fuck he lets out at that empties out any thought in your head.

Desperate times, desperate measures. 

If John knows, he jealously guards your secret. Would take it to his grave you think. Just for him and you to know. Any temerity from the night before is squashed in the light of day, and you sit across from him at the table during breakfast wishing that he could hear the words in your head, if only so you didn’t have to say it out loud. 

God bites the lip when you want it most to part. Isn’t that just the nature of life?

John leaves you off at the general store as always, dropping a peck to your lips before heading out on his way, but when you wander inside, you find Miles behind the counter instead of Kate. That dims the excitement in your chest a tad. It’s no fault of his, but you’d hoped to regale Kate with the revelation you’d had the night previous, omitting some of the lewder details. Instead you’ll be forced to wait until she’s back in town. When you ask Miles when abouts that’ll be, he shrugs, unable to give you a definite answer.

“Visiting a friend, she said,” he tells you, and you blink like you don’t know exactly what that means. 

Her absence leaves you in a lurch though, little else to do but wander around the store. You’d leave entirely and try to find something else to occupy your time, but you feel a bit foolish coming in just to leave right away, though you’re sure Miles wouldn’t care either way. Still, you tell yourself you’ll linger for a few minutes before heading out to the library or down the road for a coffee at the inn. 

The bell over the door jingles, but you pay it no mind. 

You linger in the aisle with the fruit preserves and canned fish, gazing into the bottles. Tins with hand-drawn labels, branded packaging. On another shelf, you find oyster crackers, National Biscuit Company on the label. Nabisco. If Kate were minding the shop, you’d pop your head around the aisle to ask her what corned beef brand she used the other day. 

The sound of spurs jangling from behind you makes you frown and turn your head. 

A hand clamps down over your mouth, muffling the yelp that leaps instinctively from your throat, and you go shock cold when the blunt muzzle of a pistol wedges against the small of your back. 

“Bet you thought you were clever gettin’ me out of town, didn’t you, girl?”

Your eyes widen.

[holylulusworld]

Caught Cold - Alternative version

Summary: Something goes wrong on your latest mission.

Ship/Main Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Written for @buckybarnesevents “Hot Bucky Summer” - Week 6 - “I won’t be able to stop myself. + Sex Pollen + Gone feral + Fuck or die

Read the alternative version here: Caught Cold. Please consider, the beginning of the story is the same as its alternative version.

Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, chasing, sex pollen, smut, unprotected sex, mating bites, I’ll label this one dub-con due to sex pollen

A white mist fills the room after you drop one of the vials you found at the old warehouse. You curse yourself, already hearing Bucky nag. He’s not a big fan of you, especially because you are an omega. If you just screwed this mission up, you won’t hear the end of it.

Bucky holds up his right hand. “AGENT Y/L/N, no! What did you do?“ There’s something in his voice you’ve never heard before. Panic, fear, even. “We gotta get out of here.”

He covers his mouth and nose with his gloved hand. “OUT!”

“Out?” You look around the room. Everything was normal a few seconds ago, and now the former Winter Soldier looks like he saw a ghost. “Sergeant, we have our orders. Captain Rogers wants us to secure the information.”

“OUT!” It’s more of a growl than a word. Bucky takes one step toward you, still covering his mouth. “Y/N, stop talking back for once. We need to…”

His whole body suddenly sizes up. The strong and undefeatable super-soldier falls to his knees. He slams his fists into the ground.

“Sergeant?” You step away from him. Bucky is a little broody, grumpy even. But the man kneeling on the ground stares up at you with glowing eyes. “Sergeant Barnes?” Now you panic. He slams his metal fist into the ground. “You’re scaring me.”

“You…” He growls deep and guttural. “You need to run. Go now.” Bucky seems to fight with an invisible force. He rams his fist into the ground to keep himself from getting back up.

“Why?” You are panicking now. “Sergeant? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“I can smell your pussy,” he snarls in your direction.

“What?” You drop your eyes to your crotch. Can he really smell that his closeness arouses you? You heard that alphas could smell when you are fertile, but can he smell your slick too? "Sergeant, we can’t leave. Why do you want to leave?”

“I won’t be able to stop myself.” Bucky groans loudly as he rams his metal fist into the ground again. “OMEGA!” He purrs low in his throat.

“Oh. God.” You step back, shaking your head, when he gets back on his feet. Bucky cracks his neck and flexes his metal arm. He stares at you like he wants to eat you alive.

“RUN!” It’s the last warning you’ll get. Bucky is close to losing his mind. His alpha is taking over, and there is no rational thought left.

You finally set things into motion and run out of the room. While Bucky growls your name, you try to get in contact with Steve and the rest of the team.

“Captain Rogers, this is an emergency. I think something is wrong with Sergeant Barnes,” you pant while looking over your shoulder. “Can you hear me? Copy?”

All you get is radio silence. Crap. This is the worst time to lose contact with your team.

“OMEGA!” You shriek when you hear Bucky chase after you. Fuck, for a man his size, he’s fucking fast and stealthy. “Come here.”

Like a wild animal, he chases after you, growling your name as you start running again. Your heart thunders in your chest, and your brain goes a mile a minute. You’re torn between following his alpha command and the fear that causes you to run faster.

Until now, you believed that Bucky would never hurt you. But he’s not himself, and you fear he’ll kill you if he gets his hands on you.

He didn’t warn you for nothing.

“Stop running from me.” He’s so close you can smell his sweat. Fuck, how can that fucker run so fast without being out of breath? “OMEGA!”

“Sergeant,” you stumble back. “You need to calm down.” You raise your hands. “I know that I broke the vial, but that’s no reason to kill me!”

“Kill you,” he bares his teeth and chuckles. “I won’t kill you.” You swallow thickly as his eyes drop to your crotch. “I only want to claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Bucky dips his head. He smirks, and you swear, it looks like the fucker is having a blast chasing you around.

“Sergeant,” you giggle. “I’m flattered really, but…uh…this is not the time to think about your knot.” You point at him. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

His eyes darkened at your words. “Stop running away from me. Give up. This is your fault for breaking the vial. You released the sex pollen.”

“Sex pollen?” You release a shuddery breath as the realization hits you. Sex pollen. You heard that term before. Doctor Banner mentioned it months ago. “No…this can’t be. It shouldn’t exist any longer.”

Bucky watches you like a hawk. Every move you make gets noticed by him. He’s an apex predator, an alpha, and a super-soldier with higher senses. Outrunning him won’t work out for you.

“Captain Rogers, can you hear me,” you whisper into the void. Your earpiece is useless. White noise is all you hear. “Fuck…”

Bucky smirks darkly when you lick your lips. He looks like a wild wolf with his teeth bared and his eyes glowing. “They want me to mate you, omega.” He sniffs in your direction. “Lucky me, getting such a nice little pussy today.”

“Hah, yeah…you’re very funny.” You show your palms while slowly walking back. One step, after another.

Bucky cannot know that your panties are soaked and that you’d love to have him on top of you. He’s your supervisor and a fucking super-soldier. You’re not sure if you can take him.

What if he breaks your hips? You giggle at the thought, feeling silly. Bucky would never be interested in mating you. Right? Right…

“I told you to run,” he growls now. “I need to mate you.” Bucky curls his shoulders, eyes glued to you. His eyes flick to your face when you move back again.

“Can you not…jerk it out of your body?” You must sound hilarious because Bucky snorts at your comment. “No?” You frown. Bucky tries to fight the toxin; you can see it in his eyes.

“Come. Here,” he spits while talking. “OMEGA!”

You remember Bruce’s words now. Sex pollen was created to make the alphas compliant. A forced rut and an omega in heat were all they needed to control the soldiers. If they refused to mate, the sex pollen would kill them.

“Sergeant,” you slowly take a step back, and another. “I know you believe you must mate me. Believe me, I like me a good fuck but we’re in the middle of a mission.”

He grins darkly. Bucky watches you turn on your heels to go for a sprint. His growls echo through the abandoned building when you run along the corridor.

You don’t stand a chance. The fucker is fucking thick, and beefy but damn him, that man can run. He goes for a sprint, catching up with you in no time.

You feel his breath before he pounces on you. He tackles you to the ground, immediately burying you under his heavy body. “Sergeant,” you snarl feeling his lips nip at your neck. “This is inappropriate.”

Well, no shit. His erection is pressing against your ass, and you can tell, that man is packing. While Bucky tugs at your tactical suit, you wonder if his dick is another perk of being a super-soldier or if he was packing before Hydra got their hands on him.

“Hey, what,” you whimper when Bucky cuts your tactical suit open. He’s done fooling around. He needs to feel your cunt around him. “I liked that suit.”

You groan, and mutter but it’s no use. Bucky rips the remnants of your brand-new suit down your body before you can call him a jerk.

“Omega,” he hums in appreciation while staring at your exposed body. “Mine.” You debate to get up and try to run again. Bucky is much faster than you, he proved it more than once today. Plus, you always had a thing for the grumpy man.

You hate yourself for it, but you lie still and listen to him cursing and growling. Not because you are scared of fighting him, but to save his life. If the test results Doctor Banner told you about are true, Bucky could die if he doesn’t fuck the toxin out of his body.

“Fuck,” he curses behind you. Bucky is on you again, to cover your body with his large, hard one. He ruts against you, hoping to ease the pain in his groin. Bucky presses his aching cock between your legs, moving against your clit. “Mine…only mine.”

If anything, gets even harder feeling your slick cover his length. “Sergeant,” you wiggle your hips. If he forces you to feel his dick, you want to have him inside of you. “Fuck…” You pant heavily.

He’s growling incorrect words in your ear. You don’t understand a thing, only your name and that he wants to breed you.

His skilled hands, made to defeat any enemy, carefully lift your butt to line himself up with your soaked hole. Bucky fully sheaths himself inside your welcome warmth with one hard thrust. He whines into your neck, ready to pop his knot anytime.

Mine. Mine. Mine. He chants in his mind while slowly starting to rock into you. Bucky never felt so welcome inside a body.

His powerful thrusts make you groan. He’s mounting you like you’re some animal, but your body greedily welcomes him.

Bucky grips your hips, holding you pinned to the ground. “Mine.” His movement becomes erratic when you start to whimper his name. He doesn’t stop. Bucky plunges into you, with only one thought left; to breed and claim you and your body. “Mine…”

“Fuck… Sergeant…” you wiggle your hips, unable to meet his thrust. “I’m gonna…” Shit… fuck… it’s too late. Your cunt grips him tightly, forcing his knot to expand. Bucky sinks his teeth in your neck the moment his release fills you.

“Shit…” Bucky won’t let go of your neck. He grunts against you, feeling his knot lock you together. “What did you do?”

“I,” he finally releases your neck to stare at your now-marked mating gland. He releases an inhuman noise before rutting into you a few more times. “Mine…”

You’re too exhausted to argue. His body still presses you to the ground, and his knot won’t deflate for some time. Lying still you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest for a moment. It’s all too much.

Bucky moves his arms around your body and buries his face in your neck. He nuzzles you while feeling the fog clouding his mind slowly start to fade away.

“Y/N! BUCK!” You stiffen underneath Bucky when you recognize Steve’s voice. “BUCK!”

“Capsicle, can you slow down?” Tony whistles the moment his eyes land on Bucky’s naked ass. He snickers and decides to snap a few pictures. “Buckethead, that’s not how we train our rookies,” Tony tsks.

“Tony,” Steve grunts. He looks anywhere but at his friend and you buried under the heavy alpha. “Can you just not.”

“I told you it’s an emergency,” you mutter from under Bucky. “You didn’t listen.”

“What happened?” Steve tries to find out what happened while Tony snickers behind his back. “Tony, just stop it.” He angrily raises his fist.

“Sex pollen,” Bucky slurs. “She dropped sex pollen.” He huffs into your neck. “I had to breed her.”

“Yeah, can you not tell anyone about our little breeding escapade, Sergeant,” you grumble. It’s worse enough that Captain America and Tony walked in on you.

“Steve, some privacy please,” Bucky wraps his arms tighter around your body to roll to his side to take his weight off of you.

Steve gives Tony a stern look. He huffs and jerks his head toward the entrance. “Let’s give them some time. Sex pollen is the worst…”

Tony furrows his brows. “How do you know, Capsicle?” He follows Steve outside the building. “Did you…you know…experience it too.”

While Steve and Tony fight over his phone and the pictures he took of Bucky’s naked ass, Bucky nuzzles you and murmurs your name.

He worriedly looks at you in his arms, sighing deeply. “Are you cold? I can’t move but I can roll on my back. I’m sorry about…uh…everything.”

“I don’t want Tony to see my naked ass…” You both start laughing at that. There’s a lot to talk about, especially the fact that Bucky claimed you…”

Tags in reblog.

[mononijikayu]

why are you obsessed with me? — ryomen sukuna.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam. “Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through. Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.  You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern singers au!

WARNING/S: romance, fluff, secretly dating, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, elaborate roleplay, making out, smut, fingering, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, dancing and singing, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of sexual tension, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, frontman! sukuna, front!woman/soloist! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.9k words.

NOTE: finally the starter for this year's kinktober!!! i liked this idea of sukuna being a frontman and just dating another singer and just like getting off doing this play of them having this rivalry but they're actually together??? i sat there and was like 'actually, their bed activities must go wild after every fake fight!'; anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

kinktober 2024 - kayu's version

if you want to, tip! <3

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PEOPLE DIDN’T KNOW HOW IT STARTED. But everything about the rivalry was electric, charged with an intensity that made headlines and drew crowds. Anyone who had been there from the beginning would swear it was something you had to experience firsthand—a front-row seat to the wildfire that was your feud with Ryomen Sukuna. 

Both bands had climbed their way to the top on different wavelengths: you, with your poetic lyrics and magnetic stage presence, a master of drawing the crowd into the emotion of your songs; and Sukuna, with his raw, untamed energy and unapologetic attitude, commanding attention like a force of nature. The music industry loved pitting you against each other, fanning the flames of competition, but no one had expected it to escalate the way it did.

It started innocently enough. Sukuna, in a radio interview, casually commented, “Sure, they're good, if you’re into that whole soft and emotional vibe. I just think music should have a bit more… bite.” The host laughed, the audience cheered, and Ryomen Sukuna’s grin was all teeth—sharp, confident. “You know, you gotta expect more!”

You had fired back the next day on social media with a witty post: “Bite all you want, but if your bark’s louder than your music, maybe you’re just a dog chasing its own tail.”

The tweet went viral within minutes. 

The fans loved it. The music blogs devoured it, dissecting every word, every implication. Both your names were plastered across headlines, articles speculating about a burgeoning rivalry that was just too juicy to ignore. The tension simmered, but it was still lighthearted, still playful. 

Then Sukuna took it to the next level.

At his next concert, in front of a sold-out crowd, he made a spectacle of it. “This next song….” he announced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s dedicated to someone who thinks they can keep up with me.” His grin was wicked as the crowd roared in anticipation. The opening notes rang out—an aggressive beat, the kind that grabbed you by the throat. The lyrics were sharp, mocking, filled with clever jabs that made it unmistakable who they were about.

"Got your head in the clouds, but no feet on the ground, baby doll." Sukuna sang with a sneer. "You talk about a big game, but all I hear is sound. Nonsense!"

The audience went wild as the guitar line merged with the drums. The pyrotechnics were going insane with the beat. People ate it up. Social media exploded. Hashtags trended within the hour. Your name was on everyone’s lips, and suddenly, it was your turn.

Not to be outdone, you fired back at your own concert, taking shots at his image, his music, and even his fans. The cheers and screams were deafening; you knew you had his attention. From then on, it was an all-out war, a back-and-forth of jabs and taunts, each concert a new battleground. 

Then came the diss tracks.

You released yours first, a biting, cleverly constructed anthem that didn’t just mock his music but dissected his entire persona with surgical precision. The internet went wild. Memes, fan theories, reaction videos—your name was on everyone’s lips. Sukuna's response was swift, and his diss track hit like a punch to the gut. It was brutal, unapologetic, and catchy enough that even your own fans had to admit it was a banger.

Lines were drawn. Your fans and his went head-to-head on every platform imaginable, turning comment sections and fan forums into war zones. Arguments broke out, allegiances were tested, and friendships fractured. The media couldn’t get enough, fueling the fire with articles dissecting every lyric, every post, every glance exchanged between you two. It wasn't just a rivalry anymore; it was a movement.

And through it all, there was an unspoken understanding between you and Sukuna. A thrill in the way your eyes met across the stage, a shared smirk when your names were spoken in the same breath. You were rivals, sure, but there was something else there too—a magnetic pull that neither of you could deny. Every diss, every jab, was just a prelude to something bigger, something inevitable. 

People just had to be there. To witness the chaos, the passion, the music that became the soundtrack to an unforgettable war. To see how a feud could blur the line between hate and something far more dangerous. To feel the tension crackling in the air, knowing that this was only the beginning.

On your next concert, where you decided to strike back. “Heard some noise the other day, bothersome noise really.” you told the crowd, a sly smile playing on your lips. “Sounded like a toddler throwing a tantrum. So, I thought, why not give them something real to cry about?”

The audience cheered, sensing the impending retaliation. And you delivered, every line of your song a retort, every beat a blow aimed squarely at Sukuna. "You get on my nerves; You're so fuckin' annoying, you could poison poison?" you sang, a smirk on your lips as the crowd chanted along, the hook instantly catchy, an earworm that would haunt Sukuna’s name for weeks. 

By the next day, the diss track was trending everywhere. Ryomen Sukuna was asked about it during an interview, and his reaction was priceless. He chuckled, clearly amused, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously playful. “Oh, I’m annoying, am I?” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “Well, sweetheart, when you’re that easy to rile up, it’s just too tempting not to play.”

Behind closed doors, though, it was a different story.

Backstage at a private after-party for Uraume’s album reveal, Ryomen Sukuna cornered you with a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. "That was cute, baby doll." he said, his voice low, intimate. "But you know you just gave me more to work with, right?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Oh, please. As if you could come up with something half as clever."

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his smirk growing. “You think I’m not capable of playing your game?”

"I think you're used to being a blunt instrument, hm?" you teased, leaning closer. "But there's an art to this, darling. Not just noise."

His grin widened. “We’ll see about that, baby doll.” he murmured, his hand brushing yours—intentionally, deliberately. For a moment, your breath hitched. There was a charge in the air between you, an unspoken understanding.

It became a pattern. Each new concert brought a fresh wave of insults, veiled in clever lyrics. Every interview turned into an opportunity to stoke the fire, to keep the fans on the edge of their seats. The tension, the back-and-forth, the rapid-fire comebacks—it all played out in front of the world. But behind the scenes, it was like an elaborate game, a high-stakes dance that neither of you could quit.

"You seemed really into it tonight." he noted casually, though his eyes held that familiar gleam.

“Just playing my part, darling.” you replied with a shrug, but your voice was softer, a hint of something warmer seeping through.

Sukuna stepped closer, his gaze locked onto yours. "Maybe we’re both playing a little too well, aren’t we, baby doll?" he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. 

You met his gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Or maybe we’re not playing at all." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant sounds of the crowd outside.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his lips were a breath away from yours. "Careful, my baby doll." he whispered. "People might start thinking about something else.”

Your smile widened, eyes locked with his. "Maybe it is." you replied, your heart racing in your chest, as his lips finally met yours, soft yet insistent. “Maybe it isn’t.”

══════════════════

THERE WAS SO MUCH ADRENALINE. You were pacing back and forth, adrenaline coursing through your veins as your bandmates tuned their instruments, stealing glances at you. The festival was the biggest one yet, and your set was right after Sukuna and his folk. 

The perfect setup for another battle, another clash in this never-ending war. It was another festival gig and Sukuna was here again. But you weren’t just thinking about the performance. Your thoughts kept circling back to that smirk Sukuna flashed you from the stage earlier, as if daring you to make the first move tonight.

Your bassist nudges you with a grin. "You’re not seriously thinking about what he said last week, are you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Of course not." you lied. "But he’s been pushing it lately, don’t you think? I’m just figuring out how to outdo him this time."

Just as you said that, the door swung open, and there he was—Ryomen Sukuna, flanked by his own entourage, looking as smug as ever. His eyes zeroed in on you instantly, that familiar glint of mischief lighting up his gaze.

“Ready to get outclassed again?” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. Your set was… okay, if you’re into repetitive noise.”

He chuckled, stepping closer, ignoring the tension that rippled through the room. “Is that the best you’ve got, sweetheart? Because I’ve heard your new track… and honestly, I’m not impressed.”

You raised an eyebrow, your heart pounding with a mix of frustration and exhilaration. “Right, because your lyrical masterpiece about your ex was so groundbreaking. What was it called again? ‘Cliché’? Or was it ‘Cringe’? Hard to tell.”

Sukuna laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down your spine, though you’d never admit it. “At least people are talking about it, baby doll.” he shot back, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, you and I both know… this isn’t about the music anymore.”

You took a step closer, refusing to back down. “Oh? Then what’s it about, Sukuna? Enlighten me.”

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper that only you could hear. “It’s about this… you and me, driving each other crazy. Admit it—you’re having fun.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. For a second, the noise of the festival outside seemed to fade, and all you could hear was your heartbeat, loud and insistent.

“You wish.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m just here to win, Sukuna.”

His grin widened, and he moved even closer, so close you could see the sparks in his eyes. “Then let’s see who wins tonight, baby doll.” he murmured, a challenge in every word. "And maybe, just maybe… we’ll figure out what the hell this really is."

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel, heading out with a laugh that lingered in the air long after he was gone. You stood there, breathless, wondering how the hell he always managed to get under your skin—and why a part of you liked it so much.

Your drummer nudged you, pulling you back to reality. "So… what’s the plan now?"

You smirked, grabbing your microphone, your adrenaline surging. “The plan?” you said. “We give them a show they’ll never forget.”

As you took the stage, you saw him standing off to the side, watching you with that infuriating grin. The crowd was roaring, the lights were blinding, and somewhere in the midst of it all, you felt the spark ignite again.

This was far from over.

The roar of the crowd vibrated through the stage as you stepped up to the microphone, eyes scanning the sea of faces. And there he was, off to the side, arms crossed and a smirk plastered across his face. Ryomen Sukuna was waiting—waiting to see what you’d do, how you’d respond to his taunts, his challenges. The rivalry had become a game, but one neither of you were willing to lose.

You leaned into the mic, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. "How’s everyone doing tonight?" you shouted, and the crowd erupted in cheers, the noise almost deafening. "You know, I wasn’t sure if we should even bother showing up after that last set." 

You paused, letting the words sink in, and a wave of laughter and excited murmurs rippled through the audience. Your guitarist strummed a sharp chord, and the band jumped in with the opening notes of your new track—the one that had set the internet ablaze.

The fans knew the first lines by heart, screaming them back at you with an energy that could only come from shared devotion. You caught Sukuna’s eye, feeling that familiar thrill at the challenge that lay in his gaze.

Halfway through the set, you decided to escalate things. You turned back to the mic, catching your breath. "You know, guys…." you began. “There’s been a lot of talk lately… about who's really on top in this scene." 

The crowd cheered louder, sensing where you were going. "Some people think it’s that guy over there." You pointed in Sukuna’s direction, and the audience erupted into a mix of boos and cheers. “Hey pink head.”

Sukuna, ever the showman, gave an exaggerated bow, playing to the crowd’s reaction, which only made them more riled up.

“But I think we all know, everyone.” you continued, leaning forward with a grin. “That the real reason people are here tonight… is to see which one of us cracks first. So, what do you say, Sukuna?” You called out, your voice carrying over the noise. “Why don’t you come up here and face me?”

A ripple of excitement and disbelief swept through the crowd. Ryomen Sukuna’s smile grew wider, and without missing a beat, he moved toward the stage, his entourage trailing behind. He jumped up onto the platform, grabbing a mic from one of the stagehands, his eyes never leaving yours.

"You really wanna do this, baby doll?" he taunted, his voice low and teasing. "Because I don’t think your fans can handle what I’ve got in store."

You stepped closer, the tension thick between you, the audience practically buzzing with anticipation. “Oh, I think they can handle a lot more than you can, Sukuna.”

He laughed, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to echo off the stage walls. “Alright then, let’s give them a show.” He turned to the crowd. "How about a little live battle, right here, right now? Let’s see who’s really got the chops."

The crowd went wild, chanting both your name and his, the noise rising to a fever pitch. Your bandmates looked at you, uncertain but excited. You gave them a nod—it was on. You faced off with Sukuna, mics in hand, the beat dropping low and steady, building tension. The music swelled, and Sukuna started first, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. 

“You think you’re on top, but you’re just a phase,  

A flicker, a flame that’ll soon be erased.  

I’m the storm, the fire, the one they all fear,  

And when this is over, you’ll wish you weren’t here.”

The crowd erupted, and you could see the challenge in his eyes, daring you to match his intensity. He continued on, people saying ‘ey’ ‘oh’ and screaming as they echoed their words. You stepped up, not missing a beat as you grinned at him.

“You swagger and boast like you’re king of the stage,  

But all that you’ve got is that pathetic, tired old ass rage.  

I’m the light, the spark, you’re the one drinking cheap booze. 

When I’m done, your crowd’s gonna give you nothin’ but boos.”

The audience was in a frenzy now, torn between the two of you, your words cutting into the night air like knives. Sukuna leaned in closer, his grin still in place, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer force of his presence. He was electric, enigmatic. He was everything all at once as you looked at him.

“You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that, baby doll.” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear over the chaos. “But do you really think you can outlast me?”

You smirked, adrenaline coursing through you like a drug. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The beat dropped again, faster, harder, and the two of you kept going, each line sharper, each verse more biting than the last. It wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was a test of will, a clash of two forces too strong to coexist but too intrigued to stay apart.

And somewhere in the midst of it all, as the crowd surged and screamed, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t trying to win this battle. Maybe you were just trying to keep Sukuna’s eyes on you for as long as possible. 

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YOU DIDN’T WANT TO GO TO PRACTICE TODAY. But you decided that you were going to go anyway. Mainly because your bandmates said they’ll buy you your favorite matcha drink with your favorite croissant today. And you like to be given free stuff, so off you went, dressed in baggy clothes and headed to the studio.

The studio lights were dimmed low, and the energy in the room crackled with excitement. Your bandmates were clustered around, phones in hand, eyes glued to the social media explosion that followed your latest diss track.

They seemed more excited than you. Especially now that you get to perform it live. You sat in the center, drinking your matcha drink with a small, satisfied smile playing on your lips. The track had dropped at midnight, and by morning, it had already become the talk of the town.

The song was everywhere now. Fans and critics were dissecting every line, every beat, comparing it to Sukuna’s latest attempt at a rebuttal. But this time, you’d hit a nerve. You knew that already. Sukuna’s the type to enjoy saying something about anything and everything. Your phone buzzed on the table. You glanced down to see a message from your manager.

"Check his story." it read. “Now.”

You quickly grabbed your phone, pulling up Sukuna’s social media. Sure enough, an Instagram Live was broadcasting in real-time. Ryomen Sukuna lounged on a familiar couch, the blue glow of his phone screen casting a soft light on his face. His expression was a mix of amused disbelief and genuine intrigue, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, alright, you guys.” Sukuna drawled, glancing at the camera. “I gotta hand it to them—this track is… something. From you-know-who.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “But seriously, 'why you so obsessed with me?' That track is pretty interesting.”

He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “That hook… damn, it’s catchy. I’m almost flattered, really. Almost.” He paused, his grin widening. “You really think I got a Napoleon complex, baby doll? Because last I checked, I was standing pretty tall.”

The comments exploded—hearts, fire emojis, and a flurry of messages from fans of both sides, hurling playful and not-so-playful insults. He knew you would be watching his broadcast. You leaned back in your chair, smirking as you watched him. The song had clearly gotten under his skin, just as you’d intended.

Sukuna’s grin faded slightly as he continued, “But let’s talk about some of those lines. ‘Last man on earth still couldn’t get this’? Ouch. You know that’s not true, baby doll.” 

Hesnickers, a mischievous gleam in his scarlet eyes. “Because if I remember correctly… you were the one who couldn’t stop staring at me from across the room just a while ago.”

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks, but you kept your expression neutral. No way you’d give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his words affected you. At least….You shake your head, continuing to drink your matcha drink. Not here, you think. It would be too obvious.

Sukuna leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “But seriously, props to you and your crew. You got everyone talking, and that’s what it’s all about, right?” He winked at the camera. “Now, I guess I’ll just have to come up with something to top it… and I will.”

He ended the Live with a cocky grin, and your phone buzzed again—a new message from your manager. “He’s biting. Good job. This is gonna blow up.”

Your drummer chuckled, “Did you see the way he was trying so hard not to laugh? He’s loving this just as much as we are.”

Your guitarist nodded, absently strumming a few chords. “Oh, he’s definitely going to come back with something. What’s the next move?”

You grinned, leaning forward, fingers tapping rhythmically on your knee. “Next move? We keep pushing. He wants a war, we’ll give him a war.”

Your bassist chimed in, “And if he’s obsessed, we’re gonna make sure he stays that way.”

The room burst into laughter, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You had Sukuna’s attention, and you weren’t planning on letting go anytime soon. You stood up and put your drink away. “Alright, alright. Time to practice.”

A few hours later, as you were leaving the studio and headed for dinner with your bandmates, your phone buzzed again—a private message from Ryomen Sukuna himself.

“Nice track, baby doll. You got guts. But don’t think for a second this is over.”

You smirked at the screen, your fingers flying over the keyboard as you typed back a quick reply. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

With that, you hit send, knowing full well that this game of cat and mouse was far from over. The rivalry had taken on a life of its own, and you were ready to see it through to the end.

The days following the Instagram Live were a whirlwind of activity. The media coverage of your feud with Sukuna was relentless, and the buzz around both your diss track and Sukuna's playful response only grew louder. Your fans were eagerly waiting for the next move, while the anticipation among Sukuna's followers was palpable.

Your studio was buzzing with a new energy as your band prepared for the next stage of the rivalry. You were in a brainstorming session with your team, mapping out strategies and refining ideas. The stakes had never been higher, and everyone was determined to capitalize on the momentum.

As you reviewed some rough cuts of new material, your phone once more buzzed with a notification—a direct message from Sukuna on Instagram. You raised an eyebrow. Your curiosity piqued, and opened it to find a short video clip.

The video showed Sukuna lounging in his familiar and stylish, minimalistic apartment, the camera focused on his face. He had a relaxed, almost smug expression, and he started speaking directly to the camera.

“Hey, baby doll.” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “I see you’re still all fired up from our little game. Can’t say I’m surprised. But if you think you’ve got me cornered, you’re in for a surprise.”

He paused, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m working on something that’ll blow your track out of the water. Something special, just for you.” He leaned in closer, his tone dropping to a more intimate level. “And I promise, it’s going to make you rethink everything you thought you knew about this competition.”

Sukuna ended the video with a wink, and the message was signed with a flourish: “Yours truly, Sukuna.”

You chuckled, impressed by his confidence and intrigued by his hint. You knew this was only the beginning of a new round in your ongoing rivalry. You showed the video to your bandmates, and they were immediately excited. 

“Looks like Sukuna’s not holding back.” your drummer said, leaning over to get a better look. “What’s our move?”

You grinned, feeling the familiar thrill of competition. “We push the envelope even further. If he’s coming at us with something big, we need to be ready to top it. Let’s go all in.”

The team rallied, diving into planning and creative sessions with renewed vigor. Ideas were thrown around, debates sparked, and everyone was charged with the excitement of outdoing Sukuna. Later that evening, as you were reviewing the final mix of your new track, your phone buzzed again. 

It was another message from Sukuna, this time with a photo attached. It was a behind-the-scenes shot from his recording studio, showing him with headphones on, a focused expression on his face. The caption read: “Just a little preview of what’s coming your way. Can’t wait to see your reaction 😉”

You couldn’t help but smile. The rivalry was as thrilling as ever, and Sukuna’s antics only made it more engaging. You replied with a playful message: “Bring it on, Sukuna. We’re ready for whatever you’ve got.”

As you finished up for the night, you felt a rush of anticipation. The battle between you and Sukuna had transcended mere competition; it had become an electrifying dance, each of you pushing the other to new heights. And you were more than ready for the next move.

The stage lights cut through the darkness, bathing Sukuna in a dramatic, almost ethereal glow. The crowd roared with anticipation, their excitement palpable as they waited for Sukuna’s next performance. You were in the VIP section, surrounded by your bandmates, eyes fixed on the stage. The rivalry had reached a new peak, and tonight was the next chapter.

Sukuna appeared at the center of the stage, wearing a tailored black suit that accentuated his confident, charismatic presence. His expression was a mix of cocky assurance and playful challenge. He grabbed the microphone with an almost theatrical flair, and the band behind him struck up a powerful, bass-heavy beat.

He began to sing, his voice dripping with both charm and defiance. The lyrics were a direct response to your latest track, each line crafted to counter your words with his own brand of swagger and wit. 

“You think you’re clever with your little diss track, babe, 

But let me show you what I’ve got—watch me take it back. 

You throw punches in the dark, but I’m the light that blinds, 

Every move you make, every line you drop, I’m right behind.”

The crowd cheered, their energy feeding into Sukuna’s performance. His voice was smooth and commanding, each note perfectly delivered with an edge of playful arrogance. As the chorus hit, Sukuna took a moment to address the audience directly. He flashed a grin and winked in your direction, his eyes locking with yours for a brief, charged moment.

“And you think you know me? Think you’ve got my number? 

Watch me turn this game around, and watch you slumber. 

I’m the king of this stage, and you’re just a player, 

So step aside, baby doll, it’s time for a new layer.

Call me up, call me late, rumble some date.

Come on, be obsessed with me, get home late.”

The wink was truly unmistakable—a flirtatious, provocative gesture that carried both a challenge and a promise. You bit your lower lip. It was clear that Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just participating in this rivalry; he was fully immersed in it, relishing every moment and using it to his advantage.

Just as much, you also couldn’t help but be impressed, despite the competitive edge. The rest of his performance was electrifying, and Sukuna’s ability to blend his charm with his musical prowess only heightened the tension and excitement of your ongoing feud. 

As the song ended, Sukuna raised his arms in victory, soaking in the applause and cheers of his fans. He glanced over at you again, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. The crowd’s energy was palpable as they chanted Sukuna’s name, and you could feel the shift in the air—an unspoken understanding that this battle was far from over. 

You turned to your bandmates, a determined gleam in your eyes. “He’s got moves, no doubt about it. But we’ve got our own plans. Let’s give him something he won’t forget.”

══════════════════

YOU AGREED TO MEET UP IN HIS STUDIO. After all, you had a key to his studio. One of only two people, besides his manager. The echo of the door clicking shut behind you was the only sound in the dimly lit room.  The minute you stepped inside, a familiar hand grabbed your waist, spinning you around with a rough but playful urgency. You couldn’t help but feel adrenaline rush through you.

You looked up to see Ryomen Sukuna’s smirk inches from your face, his eyes dancing with mischief. You couldn’t help but bite your lips as he lets his attention stuck on you for a little while longer. He’d just gotten here after a long schedule today, that you knew. But he just couldn’t pass up this moment. He missed you, after all.

“You’ve really done it now, baby doll.” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "That track? You know it’s all anyone is talking about. Got my fans in a frenzy, and I can't say I'm not impressed."

You laughed, slipping your arms around his neck. “Wasn’t that the plan?” you whispered back, feeling his grip tighten possessively around your waist. “To keep everyone on their toes? To keep you on your toes?”

Sukuna’s smirk softened into something a little darker, a little more heated. “Oh, you’ve got me on my toes alright, baby doll.” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your ear. “You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?”

You shivered at the feel of his breath against your skin, but you didn’t back down. “And you love every second of it, darling.” you shot back, daring him with your eyes. “Admit it, Sukuna. You like it when I push your buttons.”

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a thrill through you. “Maybe I do, baby doll.” he admitted, nipping playfully at your earlobe. “Maybe I love watching you act all tough out there, throwing shade at me like you mean it. Gets my blood pumping.”

You tilted your head back, grinning up at him. “You think you’re the only one who gets a thrill out of this? Watching you strut around on stage, pretending you’re so unaffected…” You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. “I know better. I see how you watch me.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening. “Oh, you’ve got no idea what I think when I’m up there, you know.” he growled, his lips brushing against yours, the air between you charged with electricity. “No idea how much I want to drag you off that stage and—”

You cut him off with a kiss, fierce and demanding, pouring every bit of the adrenaline still buzzing through your veins into the press of your lips against his. He responded instantly, kissing you back with a hunger that made your knees weak, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer, until there was no space left between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, panting slightly, foreheads resting against each other. “I knew you’d enjoy it, our little roleplay.” you whispered, your lips brushing his with every word. “I knew you’d love playing this game.”

Sukuna laughed softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, it’s more than just a game, baby doll.” he murmured. “It’s our foreplay.” He grinned wickedly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Every line, every taunt, every verse… just getting me more worked up for moments like this.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned into his touch, your smile matching his. “So… what’s next?” you asked, teasingly. “Another diss track? Or are we moving on to something a little more… physical?”

He chuckled again, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “Both, baby doll.” he whispered. “Always both. I’ll keep you on your toes, and you keep me guessing. That’s how this works, right?”

You nodded, feeling the thrill of his words spark through you. “You already know it well, darling.” you grinned at him, pulling him closer for another kiss, deeper this time, more intense. 

Because behind all the public drama, the mock insults, the fan wars and the staged battles, there was something real—a chemistry, a connection, that neither of you could resist. No one else knows, and they didn’t have to. Because that’s what makes it fun, that’s what gets you hot, high for him. 

This elaborate game of rivals was just another way for you and Sukuna to both express that pull, that irresistible need to keep challenging each other, to keep pushing each other’s buttons in every way possible. And you knew, as he did, that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Sukuna’s lips moved against yours, his kiss deepening with a fervent intensity, you felt the world around you blur into a haze of desire and adrenaline. His hands roamed possessively over your body, each touch a reminder of the raw, unfiltered connection that existed between you.

The heat of his skin, the firm grip of his hands, and the way he pressed you closer only heightened the sensation that this was more than just a physical encounter—it was an embodiment of the fierce rivalry and undeniable attraction that had been building between you two.

The way his fingers traced your curves, his touch both commanding and tender, spoke volumes. It was as if he was claiming you, not just in the heat of the moment but in a way that was deeply intertwined with the ongoing battle of wits and passion you both were engaged in. The contrast between his rough, assertive touch and the gentle caresses created a whirlwind of emotions, each sensation adding to the already charged atmosphere.

As you pull back slightly, your breaths mingling, Sukuna’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. His smirk, still present, held a promise of more to come—more battles, more games, and an unspoken agreement that this was only the beginning of an exhilarating journey. For a moment, you think you fell in love deeper with him again.

The gradual approach of his fingertips was a slow, tantalizing tease, each moment stretched out with the deliberate pace of someone who knew exactly how to build anticipation. You could feel the heat from his touch even before his fingers made full contact, the mere thought of what was to come causing your breath to hitch and your body to respond eagerly.

As his fingers inched closer, their warmth and the promise of what lay ahead created a growing sense of urgency and need. The gentle caress of his fingertips, as they brushed against your inner thighs, was both intimate and assertive, a clear indication of his intent. The friction was electric, a stark contrast to the cool air around you, amplifying every sensation as his touch grew more purposeful.

You could feel his breath against your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine. His eyes, locked onto yours with an intense focus, conveyed both a challenge and a deep-seated desire. The way he watched you, his gaze dark and smoldering, only added to the overwhelming allure of the moment.

His fingers finally made contact with your womanhood, the touch both delicate and firm, exploring with a confident familiarity. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and anticipation as his fingers began to move in slow, deliberate circles, teasing and testing. Each stroke was designed to elicit a response, to push you further into a state of heightened arousal.

A satisfied smirk curled on Sukuna’s lips, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of pride and desire. “You know it don’t you, hm?” he growled, his voice rough with arousal. “No one else can touch you like this, no one else can make you feel what I do.”

His words were a taunt and a promise, each thrust a reminder of the exclusive, raw connection between you. “You need this, don’t you?” he continued, his voice low and seductive. “You need me to push you, to make you feel every inch of me.”

Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as a moan slipped from your lips. He was relentless, and he knew it, his movements intentional and powerful, his gaze never leaving yours. 

“Admit it, baby doll.” Sukuna demanded, his voice a husky whisper against your ear. “Admit that no one else can make you feel this way.”

You bit back a moan, your head tilting back as you fought for control, but the way he looked at you, the way he moved against you—it was overwhelming, intoxicating. “You… you’re so full of yourself, darling.” you managed to gasp, though the quiver in your voice betrayed how much he was getting to you.

Sukuna chuckled darkly, his breath hot against your skin. “Maybe.” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck, his teeth nipping at your pulse. “But you like that about me, don’t you? You like the way I take control… the way I make you lose yourself.”

As Sukuna’s breath grew heavier, mingling with yours, he leaned in closer, the heat of his body was all too much for you. His eyes, locked onto yours, held a smoldering intensity that combined both dominance and a profound passion. The teasing brush of his fingers, so close to your most intimate area, sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fiery need that built with every second.

When you finally released a groan escaping your lips, you held him tightly, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Sukuna’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and approval.

“You really get a load of it when it’s good, don’t you?” he teased, his voice low and filled with a playful edge. His tone was both confident and affectionate, the snicker that followed underscoring the satisfaction he felt in having pushed you to such a heightened state.

Sukuna’s words hung in the air, a provocative mix of satisfaction and challenge. His fingers continued their gentle, lingering caress, prolonging the aftershocks of your release. The smirk on his face was unmistakable—a blend of triumph and deep-seated affection that he only reserved for moments like these.

“You know, baby doll..." he said, his voice softening to a more intimate tone. “it’s not just about getting a reaction. It’s about knowing how much you need this—how much you crave every bit of it.” His hand moved with deliberate, gentle strokes, still teasing, ensuring that the aftermath was as intense as the build-up.

You looked up at him, breathless and flushed, meeting his gaze with a mix of desire and exhaustion. The connection between you two felt palpable, a mix of competition and passion that seemed to define every interaction.

“Is that so?” you managed to reply, your voice hoarse but laced with playful defiance. “And what makes you think you’re the only one who can bring me to that edge?”

Sukuna’s eyes sparkled with mischief, his lips curving into an even broader smile. “Oh, I don’t think I’m the only one. But I do like to think that I’m the best at it. There’s something about our… little games that just makes everything so much more exhilarating.”

He pulled you closer, his breath warm against your ear. “And you love it. Every second of it. The highs, the lows, the rivalry... it’s all part of the thrill.”

You shivered at his words, the heat of his body and the intimacy of the moment amplifying the connection between you. His touch was a constant reminder of the dynamic between you two—a blend of passion, competition, and mutual desire that made every encounter both electrifying and deeply personal.

As the intensity of the moment began to wane, Sukuna’s touch softened, and he held you close, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The playful glint in his eyes remained, but there was also a deeper sense of satisfaction, as if the night had cemented something unspoken between you two.

“I guess we’ll just have to keep this up, you know?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

He starts to emphasize his words, his voice low and commanding, as he enters you with a slow, deliberate thrust that sends a shudder through your entire body. Each movement is precise, calculated, as if he wants to draw out every sensation, making sure you feel the intensity of him.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens reflexively, your nails scraping against his skin, leaving faint trails in their wake. The contact seems to please him, a low, almost primal growl escaping from his throat, vibrating through his chest and into yours.

The warmth between you both intensifies, the heat of the moment engulfing you. It’s stifling, but you crave more of it, each moment more consuming than the last. Your mind, once racing with scattered thoughts, is now empty, surrendered entirely to the sensations overwhelming you.

Every nerve is alive, tuned to the rhythm of his body against yours. As Sukuna pushes deeper, your world narrows to the singular, undeniable reality of him filling you completely. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and you’re lost in the sheer intensity of it. All that exists is him, inside you, and the way your body responds to every movement he makes.

“Say it, baby doll.” he insisted, his hand moving to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to send a sharp thrill through you. “Say you need me.”

Your heart pounded with thunderous applause, and for a moment, you hesitated, the words caught in your throat. But the way he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper, pulled the confession from your lips.

“I… I need you, darling.” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your body arching against his, craving more. “I need you, Sukuna. All of you.”

A satisfied grin spread across his face, his hold on you tightening as he captured your lips in a fierce, claiming kiss. “That’s right.” he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with desire. “Only me. Always me.”

And with that, he moved with renewed intensity, each deep thrust and touch a declaration, a challenge, a promise that you were his—and that no one else could ever come close to what the two of you had. He was good, he was good at making you feel like this. 

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your shoulders, down the curve of your spine—each kiss a mark, a reminder that this, whatever it was between you, was uniquely yours. Every gasp, every moan he drew from you only seemed to fuel him more, his movements becoming more fervent, more determined to prove his point.

And you couldn’t help but revel in it—the way he knew your body, the way he knew exactly how to drive you to the edge and pull you back, just to see the need in your eyes grow stronger.

“You love it, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “You love the way I make you feel… the way I take you apart and put you back together again.”

You could only nod, lost in the rhythm of his movements, the intensity of his gaze, the heat that built between you. Because he was right—there was something about the way he touched you, the way he pushed you, that no one else could ever replicate. And in that moment, with his hands on your skin and his voice in your ear, you knew that you were exactly where you wanted to be.

He continued with a deliberate rhythm, his movements precise and relentless. You could feel the intensity building, every touch and motion sending waves of sensation coursing through you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, a mix of pleasure and the sheer force of his actions. He always knew how to push you to the edge, how to test your limits, and tonight was no different.

Each thrust was a carefully measured challenge, a dance of dominance and submission that left you breathless, gasping for air yet craving more. The friction between you was electric, sparking and crackling like a live wire, building with every moment until you felt like you might burst from the sheer pressure of it.

Sukuna’s eyes never left yours, a dark, consuming gaze that seemed to see right through you, drinking in every reaction, every gasp and shiver. “You feel that?” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “That’s what happens when you get me riled up and excited, baby doll.”

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat, your body trembling under his touch. He was relentless, every motion a reminder of his strength, his intensity, and the unique connection that bound you together. It was overwhelming, all-consuming, the kind of sensation that left you dizzy and reeling, your heart pounding in your chest.

But beneath the raw physicality, there was something more—a deep, unspoken understanding, a bond that neither of you could deny. His touch wasn’t just about possession or power; it was about claiming you in a way that no one else ever could. And in his eyes, you could see the same need reflected back at you, a hunger that matched your own.

“Tell me, baby doll.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Tell me you feel it too.”

“I feel it, darling.” you whispered, your voice breaking with the intensity of the moment, your hands gripping his arms as if anchoring yourself to him. “I always feel it… with you.”

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze softening for just a moment, a flicker of something almost tender beneath the heat. “Good, good…” he said softly. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now… not ever.”

And with those words, he moved with renewed determination, his hands tightening on your hips, his body pressing closer, as if trying to fuse the two of you together. The rhythm between you became more frantic, more desperate, as if neither of you could get enough, as if the very air between you was charged with the electricity of everything left unsaid.

The world around you faded, until there was nothing but him—his touch, his voice, his breath against your skin. And in that moment, you knew that whatever games you played in public, whatever battles you waged on stage, nothing could compare to this. To the way he made you feel, to the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch, you surrendered to the sensation, letting it take you over completely, knowing that with Sukuna, you would always find yourself right back where you belonged—in his arms, in his gaze, lost in the heat of this dangerous, undeniable connection.

Your bodies moved in perfect synchrony, a rhythm known only to the two of you. Sukuna’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of his presence, his power. His breath was hot against your neck, each word he whispered sending a fresh wave of heat through your veins.

"You're mine. Only mine." he murmured against your ear, his voice thick with conviction. "No one else gets to have this… to have you like this." His words sent a shiver down your spine, the possessiveness in his tone both thrilling and comforting in its intensity.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own dark desire and something deeper—something that made your heart clench in your chest. "You think anyone else could handle you?" he taunted, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "Handle us?"

You couldn’t help but smile back, despite the breathless state he had you in. "N–no one." you managed to reply, your voice a whisper, yet full of certainty. "No one else would even come close. Only you.”

His grin widened at your words, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mix of pride and satisfaction. "Damn right." he said, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, almost tender gesture before capturing them in a fierce kiss. “Only me.”

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, the air between you charged with an intensity that was almost palpable. "We could do this forever, you know," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his expression suddenly serious. "Keep pretending, keep pushing each other… but you and I both know the truth."

You looked up at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. "And what's that truth, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours as he spoke. "That no matter what happens on stage, no matter what anyone else thinks… this is real. What we have… it’s real."

For a moment, all the bravado, all the games, all the theatrics fell away, and it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of something deeper, something more profound. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of rightness settling in your bones. "Yeah, of course." you whispered back, your hand finding its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "It’s real."

And as his lips met yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, you knew that whatever this was—rivalry, love, obsession—it was something you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Because with Sukuna, every line blurred, every touch sparked, and every word spoken between you felt like the beginning of a song only the two of you knew the lyrics to.

A song that, no matter how many verses you added, would never truly end.

══════════════════

epilogue 

The social media buzz had been relentless since the rivalry between you and Sukuna had begun. Fans and media alike were glued to every update, eagerly dissecting every new development in your ongoing feud. It was a carefully crafted spectacle, each move calculated for maximum impact. But what came next was entirely unexpected.

Sukuna was known for his bold, often controversial social media presence, but this latest post took things to a whole new level.

The photo he shared was striking and intimate—a mirror selfie in which Sukuna stood with his back to the camera, his muscular body on full display. In front of him, you were barely visible, your form concealed mostly by his arm, his body strategically positioned to cover you. The image was provocative, suggesting an intimacy that had never been publicly acknowledged before.

The caption, simple yet loaded, read: “My baby doll likes excitement.”

The post exploded across the internet. Fans, already used to the charged tension between you two, were stunned into silence before erupting into a frenzy of speculation and excitement. The comments section was a whirlwind of reactions, from shock to adoration, as people tried to make sense of this unexpected revelation.

At first, there was a stunned silence from your side. You were sitting in your living room, scrolling through your feed, when you saw the post. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the image and the caption. The boldness of it was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

Minutes later, your phone buzzed with notifications. Your own social media accounts were flooded with messages, your fans reaching out with a mix of curiosity and support. Some were confused, others were jubilant, but everyone was talking about it.

You decided it was time to respond, and you crafted a post that acknowledged the new development without backing down from the playful rivalry. You shared a photo from one of your concerts, the stage lights casting a dramatic glow.

Your hands were littering towards his naked chest while you were dressed on your stage outfit. He came to visit you and well....had fun in your waiting room. You added a caption: “Guess Sukuna’s not the only one who likes a little excitement. See you on stage, my darling.”

Sukuna’s reaction was swift and equally bold. He replied to your post with a comment: “Looking forward to it. Let’s see who can keep the audience more entertained.”

The exchange between you two set the internet alight. The combination of intimacy and competition only fueled the frenzy, turning your personal revelation into the hottest topic of the moment.

Behind the scenes, the two of you found solace in the chaos, a private celebration of your bold move. When you next met, the atmosphere was charged with a new kind of excitement. 

Sukuna greeted you with a grin that spoke volumes. “Well, that certainly stirred things up, hm?” he said, pulling you into a fierce hug.

You laughed, your heart racing with the thrill of it all. “You’ve got that right.” you replied, looking up at him with a smile. “But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Ready for the next round?”

You looked into his eyes, a mix of challenge and affection in your gaze. “Always.” you whispered back. And with that, you both knew that whatever came next, it would be just as exhilarating and unpredictable as the ride you were already on.

[futurecorps3]

Hii, could you maybe write Remus with a big titty gf? I’m obsessed with the James one btw, I love the way you write the boys!! <3

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist<3

MINORS STAY AWAY I'LL BLOCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, THIS IS +18!!!

See also… All marauders versions in my marauders masterlist<3 (Sirius’ is up!!!)

oh my baby boy <3 I LOVE THIS OFC!! Now I gotta do a Sirius one too hehe. Tysm nonnie! Hope u like it

-We know Moony’s partner would have one of his sweaters at all times, right?

-He loves when you wear his clothes and how your tits look in them BUT

-HE ABSOLUTELY ADOOOORES HOLDING THEM WHEN YOURE WEARING HIS SWEATERS

-“For comfort, love. Helps m’sleep” he says as you’re about to take a nap in his dorm, voice deep and laced in tiredness “‘Course baby”.

-You think he’s just saying that but they do help him sleep, they’re warm and soft and :(

- While James is more of a buries his face in them, Remus just kind of

-Holds them gently, maybe even kneads them a bit

-He’s a smug, teasing bastard so he loves how you squirm when he moves his hands a bit too much<3

-“You alright there, luv?” while home smirks like PLEAAAAASE

-He’s not one to do stuff near the boys but

-He THRIVES when the boys stare at them but try to look away to be respectful!!!

-LIKE YES THOSE ARE HIS WHAT ABOUT IT

-Now if someone else is staring

-He gets so protective over you and so SO angry

-I think Remus has a very quiet anger, he very rarely blows up so he stares at them first (kind of like a Henry Winter stare iykyk)

-Then says something like “The fuck you staring at, mate?” but SO CALMLY ITS SCARY

-The other person usually gets so nervous they have no other option but to leave

-I feel like

-He loves seeing you in tight sweaters rather than clothes that purposely show your cleavage like crop tops

-If you like to wear those go ahead by all means, he enjoys the view! But yeah, he loves a good black turtleneck or knitted sweater that fits tightly to your pretty tits <333

-He likes when you sit on his lap, real close to him because your boobs push all the way up into his face

-Remus Lupin lays on your chest when he needs to relax

-What’s not to love about it? He can hear your heartbeat, read his books or hear you talk, maybe even doze off if he feels like it

-Lover boy is so very respectful ofc, if you don’t feel comfortable with any of those things he’ll understand

-But if you do, know he’ll always have time to take care of them or you, even when that means putting his assignments on hold for a while<3

[gotstabbedbyapen]

I have very complicated feelings for the Vengeance Saga (after the first listen)

Disclaimer: I will only criticize Epic the Vengeance Saga as a work on its own, not for its inaccuracy or deviation from mythology and The Odyssey. There are more knowledgable people who can point out and analyze the changes in Epic the Musical, but that is not what I'll be tackling here.

To put it bluntly, I'm not being angsty about it as I should. The whole saga just... didn't feel right with me.

Now, first off all, I'm a big fan of Epic and had been following it since the Cyclops saga (first version). I've been in love with many songs and hyperfixed it for months on end. But when the Vengeance saga came along, I didn't feel that same bubbling love rise in me.

Even as a fan, this isn't my first time having peeves with Epic. I didn't jam with the re-release sagas for a while, I'm underwhelmed with the Circe VS Odysseus fight and other issues, very unpopular opinion but "Monster" wasn't too impactful to me, and also the God Games (especially Zeus' attack).

The Vengeance Saga though? Well, they say we gotta do the Bun-Meat-Bun (or whatever the hell its name really is) technique when giving criticism, so I'll start with the good parts.

I love that Odysseus looked so done with Calypso in "Not Sorry For Loving You". They're basically this meme:

Like sorry you're a sad but you're still an abuser 😒

Then Odysseus starts singing the reprise for "Full Speed Ahead" but there's no one to back him up. That one hits me hard. To whoever on Tumblr said that after the Thunder Saga we will never hear the crew's back-up again and Odysseus' singing will be answered with silence, Apollo really blessed you with the red ball.

Hermes and the Winions' part was really cool too! I really like them being mischievous helper! The warning about the wind bag and the changing scene of Odysseus fighting off sea monsters while Hermes just vibing with the beats is 👌👌👌

But after that the hype started to sizzle out for me. You might want to skip this part if you're not comfortable with harsh criticism because I WON'T hold back.

It's really backward but I like the Odysseus VS Charybdis draft more than the final production. Charybdis' roars and music are somehow less intimidating, which is a shame because I thought this would be one of the biggest struggles Odysseus will face. Even with awesome illustrative animatics, the scene wasn't as thrilling as I've expected.

The other songs got massive improvement from its draft version (on top of my mind I can think of "Thunder Bringer", "There Are Other Ways", "Little Wolf"), but I don't get why "Charybdis" didn't get up-graded as much like them. It's like a cake that was throughly baked but half decorated and it just didn't taste as good as I've hoped.

Then we have the Odysseus VS Poseidon part in "Get In The Water" and "Six Hundred Strikes". The first thought I had for GITW is this song sounds like all the draft snippets were mashed together without a smooth transition/connection between them. Jorge and Steven's performance is great, but there's not enough tension for me to dread for Odysseus. When Poseidon first met Odysseus in "Ruthlessness", the whole opening was terrifyingly good! And we didn't even have any illustration animatic back then! (that's not to say the GITW animatics were bad, they just can't salvage much when the song itself was already weak)

I wasn't impressed with Poseidon's Shatter The Ocean move either. It's supposed to be the Strongest AttackTM but it's less scary than when he and the Laestrygonians destroyed Odysseus' eleven ships with probably 1% of their power. It didn't even help when Poseidon looked like he's having a seizure with lights pouring out of his eyes and mouth during the transformation.

Odysseus being literally on the brink of death with the souls of his loved ones pulling him into the abyss is a gem in the rough, but because we've seen Odysseus almost drowning before in the end of the Thunder Saga, it's not as shocking as it should be. Furthermore, Poseidon could have instant-killed Odysseus right then and there but didn't really annoyed me. But I guess he just wanted Odysseus to slowly suffer while dying.

Right when I thought the progress will get better, it... gets down. I can go with Odysseus using wind to escape the water, but him wearing it like a jetpack is so comical it ruined the drastic of the situation. And I'm officially let down when Odysseus FUCKING ATTACKED Poseidon in "Six Hundred Strike".

What? Just... why with that choice?

Look, I'm not gonna fault Epic for making creative liberties from the source material (as said in the disclaimer), but I will criticize if that change contradict itself in the transformative work. And this is one of them.

Poseidon and the gods have been proven time and time again in the musical just how powerful they are. Their ominous and grandiose entrances, them striking fear and inferiority in our hearts just by singing. Even Circe, a low-level goddess, poses a constant threat to the crew and Odysseus had to get help from Hermes just to get a chance to corner her (and Hermes even joked that he can still die!)

Poseidon easily destroyed almost all of Odysseus' fleet. Odysseus was very avoidant of him, opting to go to the literal Underworld to find instruction on how to dodge him and sailing through Scylla's lair + willing to sacrifice six men for safe passage. And when Poseidon said he can drown all of Ithaca, it's not just bluffing, he would and could have done that. Yeah, the King of the Sea is THAT BIG of a threat.

So no, Odysseus isn't cool to attack Poseidon, he's being stupid. I'm not even cheering for him the whole time he fight, just groaning at how ridiculous the whole thing is. If Epic is more believable and sticks to WHAT IT HAD ESTABLISHED BEFORE, having a sudden burst of anger and choosing ruthlessness won't save Odysseus from one swipe of Poseidon's trident. Odysseus stood no chance against one of the most powerful deity, even if he's the protagonist and love his family.

Not only that, Poseidon didn't even defend himself and was wounded by a mere human! And he just sat there and took all the blows and insults from Odysseus??? And he actually begged Odysseus to stop and agree to quell the storm to let him get home??? I'm not buy that bullshit. I'm more upset that a literal Olympian god was nerfed down than Odysseus having a Gary Stu moment. Give me a break, that try-hard moment to be cool and edgy just show how badly written the scene is.

What's the fucking point of hyping up how dangerous the gods are if a human can take one down? Tell me this isn't some Wattpad-y Greek myth retelling fanfic where the teenage Y/N sass her way to defeat an entire pantheon. Epic really traded its opportunity to be better for some cheap and out-of-the-blue dramas in this saga, dare I say it's even worse than Zeus' OOC attack on Athena. I'm very disappointed with that decision.

On an end note, the saga did have one saving point with the "After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?" - "Next to my wife" lines. Odysseus knew he could be the most horrendous man ever and Penelope would still choose his side, that just show how powerful their love and faith in each other are.

But not enough to excuse all the terrible cinematic choices.

[silent-stories]

𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐎

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Waking up with Eddie.

Warnings: fluff

When you woke up you were curled up in the blankets, warm, next to Eddie.

For a moment you wondered why you weren't at your house, then you remembered that the night before you fell asleep on Eddie's bed.

You noticed that the first lights of the day were filtering through the window, illuminating his bedroom with different shades of red and orange, so it must have been early morning.

Resting at the foot of the bed was Eddie's guitar that he'd kept in his lap all night before, occasionally running his fingers over the strings until you playfully said you were jealous and took its place.

You felt Eddie, next to you, starting to move when you tried to get out of the bed.

"What's happening?" He asked with a husky and sleepy voice, raising his head slightly and rubbing one eye with his hand.

His hair was unkempt and his dark curls went in all directions.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked again.

"Because you're cute." You said. "But I gotta go. My mom must be wondering where I am. I didn't tell her I wasn't coming home yesterday."

You were about to get up and get out of bed but he wrapped his arm around your waist and you fell back on the mattress.

"Eddie, c'mon." You laughed.

"You're not going anywhere." He said as he pushed you against his body and your legs got entangled.

Instinctively, you rested your head on his chest, even though you knew you should have gotten out of bed. He slowly ran his warm hand up and down your back.

"Eddie." You said again.

"Stay, it's too early." He muttered as he left a kiss in your hair. "Please."

That "please" almost convinced you, he soundend just like a little kid.

"I'm so sorry Eds, but my mom needs to know that I'm still alive. I have to go." You said as his arm still held you against his body.

"What about me?" He answered moving a lock of hair that had fallen on your face and placing it behind your ear. "I need you too."

Eddie's morning version was absolutely one of your favorites.

"Eddie." You muttered as you left a short but tender kiss on his lips. "If you keep acting like that, I'll never leave this room."

"That was the idea." He chuckled as he slowly wrapped the blanket better around your shoulders.

You sighed, enjoying the feeling of Eddie's arms around your waist for a few seconds, listening to his heartbeat.

"I really should go." You murmured.

"Or you can call your mom and tell her you're spending all Sunday in bed with your amazing boyfriend." He replied, his hand still running up and down your back. "Specify only cuddling"

"Eddie..." You tried to convince him, even though the exact opposite was happening.

"Don't go," he whispered "please."

"I-" You tried to say, but he continued.

"I'll give you one of my t-shirts because they look better on you than on me and then we can order a pizza, listen to some music and I can read you The Hobbit. Or even better, I can teach you how to play D&D." He said.

It sounded nice, you had to admit it.

"What do you think about it, mh?" He asked, you could hear the hope in his voice.

You knew you should go, that your mom was probably worried and you also had to do your physics homework by Monday. But you just couldn't say no to Eddie.

"I think I'll stay." You muttered as a smile formed on Eddie's lips and he left a kiss on your forehead.

"Good." He said simply as a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

You wrapped your arms around his torso.

"Good." You whispered back, placing your head better on his chest that you were still using as a pillow.

[jazzyblusnowflake]

OMG hi…I really like your art and was wondering if you wanna be mutuals??????????? Also tell me about your MD ships :3c

honey we are dating- .....okay yknow what- HI PRETTY & TALENTED LADY- yess i will absolutely love toooo 🙈💕💕💕💕💕

also lets see uhhh okay this is an excuse for me to just... expload-

keep in mind not every ship is meant for all of you so dont badger me about stuff that ISNT CANON or YOU DONT SHIP. contrary to whatever you believe, when somone posts about THEIR ships, nobody wants to hear about you NOT shipping it on THAT EXACT post.

hang in there, this gon be a long one >:p

First off we are starting strong with Nuzi- Biscuitbites obviously thats a given- these two just have too much to be said about why and how they make eachother the best version of eachother, whether they ever became canon or not- they fit like puzzle pieces- they lessen eachothers negative traits by being their for eachother.

next is Vuzi- Violentviolet, they are my favorite kind of enemies to lovers 😔 but its also tragic smh. kinda pissed off at how V always does something good in Uzis favor only when she is LITERALLY PASSED OUT- either in the camp ep on the bus or in Alices lab. like damn ofFUCKINGcourse Uzi wouldnt know she cares about her 😭😭😭

envuzi- Violentbitingbiscuits, i love these goobers with all my heart- they deserve the best 😔💕💕💕💕

envy - [does this poor ship just NOT have an exclusive FINDABLE tag name??? im calling them GoldenMemories...], i like to think that if they were in the manor still, and nothing bad had ever happened, these two would be comforting eachother in the healthiest way possible. V needs someone like N and N is just adorable like that uwu

Next we have JxTessa/Jessa- [calling them Fancyblades cuz why not-] J deserves some closure for the shit shes gone through smhhh 😔, its a tragic yuri of J loving and wanting something she probably already accepted she couldnt have, and even then she gotta deal with Ns ass being the favorite one regardless of how hard she tries to be perfect... sighhh i wanna imagine them in a future where Tessa was spared as the only human and J could save her 😭😭😭😭 Tessa might have loved doing mechanical stuff or wore black to hide grease/oil stains on her clothes from her parents and wore gloves to hide her oily stained hands- i want her to have a scene of wiring drones back to life and saving them and saying something like "hey there, you made it! dont worry, ill take care of you, youre my friend now :3" or something //dies//, also before anyone says it- even if Tessa was a teen in the flashbacks- romance is not exclusive to ADULTS, teens can love eachother without having sexual stuff involved. no she was not their MOTHER figure, she was their FRIEND who liked to fix robots for herself to not be alone in a house where her own parents literally chain her up as punishment. i dont even know why im arguing about this, people headcanon or make aus about characters NOT being dead all the time and if Tessa was alive for as long as J thought she was, Tessa would have been a perfectly fine adult either way. so counting this, yes shes canonically considered an adult when Cyn tries to imitate an adult humans body 🙄 makes as much sense as everything else i guess-

next ones i got is NorixYeva/Neva- Solverlilies- i just think theyre neat 😭😭😭 and once again, like everything else in this franchise- they are tragic yuris 😔 damn liam im finding a pattern over here 🤨 anyway, i like to think they either got closer in the lab experimentations or were already close when they were working as WDs in the campsite area for the humans. obviously canonically they were probably straight or just not into eachother romantically- [Nori either u have the worst taste men or Khan just fucking lost it after you died-] but also on the other handddd.... they have 2 hands and they are robots, i want them to kiss like two barbie dolls and im gonna make them do just that-

DollxLizzy/Dizzy- Bloodypink, wost fucking ship names ever, i cant find shit on them with these tags and it makes me angry >:/ at this point 2/3s of my ships are just tragic yuris smh, Doll did not deserve any of the things handed to her, even if she went about doing some things the wrong way i wish Lizzy didnt just abandon her- but then again, Doll did kinda abuse Lizzys trust and Lizzy got scared of being close to a serial murderer so.... morality calls this a draw? 😭 im crying... i wish someone was there to help Doll... sigh... i like to think Lizzy would have waited for Doll to just come back at some point... oh well, thats why AUs exist :"3 //sobs in the corner//

DollxUzi/Dollzi- Bloodybats, this ship is so underrated to me... they could have been... so much more. but why weren't they? did Yeva abandon ever getting close to Uzi when she was a kid after Nori died? did Uzi and Doll just never play around together as kids when their mothers were so close? were they ever close and something went wrong as they grew older? at worst they could have been like sisters together, and at best maybe more than friends. i just dont know what happened here, like Yeva could have tried to keep an eye on Uzi, maybe Uzi could have found Dolls powers so cool before having them too- i dont know theres literally tons of possibilities- but if Doll deserved to be saved or cared for by anyone, at least one of them should have been Uzi... sigh.

ThadxV- Killingblonde, yall this is... the cutest shit... ever???? like from here on out we kinda go into the more or less crackship territory but these two are adorable- Dumbass yet wholesome jock boy that just wants to keep his queen happy 😔👌👌👌 He and Uzi would have so much to talk about on "crushing on literal murder bots that stabbed and almost ate us" its literally love at first stab smhhh 😫💕

ThadxSam- Smokyjock ???? for some fucking reason??? i dont know what my brain did here man- i just like the trope of someone getting under Thads skin- like pair up the healthy sports loving gym boy with the lazy but wholesome dumbass that does drugs or is always just sleep deprived and Thad is always trying to just... take care of his ass and make him take care of himself but he just WONT SMHHH-

okay some more or less crack ships down here:

ThadxN: it speaks for itself. its too adorable and youll go blind from the light of wholesomeness-

ThadxNxUzi: Uzi will die here from the overwhelming wholesomeness... oh bonus if its just a 4s polycule of ThadxNxUzixV i mean i know im pushing my luck but.... random crackships go brr- V and Uzi will complain but love their dumbass golden puppy partners-

ThadxUzi: i think they could have been close and Thad caring about her as a childhood friend turned crush sounds just too cute for me 😔

LizzyxUzi: another random ass rivals to lovers or some shit idk what this is, Lizzy would pay Uzi to kiss the fuck out of her i dont make the rules-

ThadxLizzy: in some cases where they are NOT headcanoned as siblings or cousins, i think they have a good energy of wholesome jock bf and girly queen cheerleader lol, Thad is just a good bf eitherway-

DollxUzixLizzy: the gals would not leave a single second of silence for the small gremlin i swear to God- [Uzi is gay as FUCK for her gfs, absolute girloser unit with her gorgeous but crazy gfs]

okay for the end i have some characters that arent ships but i wish they could have become closer as friends or work out their issues...

J and N- too much abuse and toxicity here, i wish they could talk together more and see they have a lot of things in common- maybe a full line of dialogue from J without threatning N in every sense of the manner would be nice for a change =_=

Doll and V- again, a bit morally ambiguous to ship a character with the murderer of your family, esp when said murderer hasnt expressed regret lmao, but i wish they could at least be friends... Dolls disdain for the murder drones pushed her to end up the way she did. maybe if she didnt do it alone she would have been alive by now. so i like to think what would have happened if she and V could have made up- not necessarily Doll forgiving her- but at least having the space to grow and understand why they did they things that happened.

Cyn and literally ANYONE- i want the solver to be SEPARATE from Cyn- i wish Cyn would have still existed somewhere down there and was savable- i wish this poor child AI had a happy ending to her by connecting with the others as ACTUAL siblings... goddamnit 😔

aaaand thats it for this fine ass day 🫡 yall are welcome to ask about any of these- boy the tags are gonna be.... a lot.

[yinichigo]

Zelda: Light Enraged

A version of TOTK Zelda where Zelda; upon losing Sonia, snaps, temporarily forsaking her guiding principles of kindness and wisdom in a blind attempt to take out the man who keeps taking away everything she loves.

(little Free writing excerpt below for view into the Mindset of this little au.) (it's gonna be cringe but I gotta share the brainrot with someone. Don't worry it will be below the keep reading line.) (there's a reason I'm an artist not a writer)

____________________________________________

Red. Red like the tainted moon that bathed the world with its horrid light.

Red like Sonia's blood that now stained the late queen's gown.

Red that flowed onto Zelda's arms as she held a woman who she held the lifeless body of one she had come to see almost like a mother close.

Red like the light shining from the now crimson moon that reflected off the tears pouring down Zelda's face as her chest tightened and her body became paralyzed with grief.

Red like the Demon on the Balcony, laughing in victory at it all.

Despite the Demons horrid laugh and shrieking of monsters as they came to life echoed in this distance, Zelda could only hear silence as reality seemed to come to a halt as she looked upon the late queen. It was as if reality was closing in around her, the weight of all her past mistakes holding her like chains. It was as if she was not only looking at Sonia, but Daruk, Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and even her own father. It was as if they were all looming over her judging her for her inability to save anyone she loved. Zelda snapped back to reality momentarily as Rauru call out to Sonia as he entered the room. "You are too late Rauru." the demon said, Self-satisfaction dripping from his voice. "You took for granted the god-like power you had in your hands. Do you see the potential you squandered? As for her, she is merely the first victim of your arrogance." The words were aimed at Rauru, but neither king could how the words would strike the other person still in the room. Taking one hand from Sonia, Zelda slowly reached for the Secret Stone that lay on her chest. This was no demon in front of them, and it definitely was no god. It was just a power-hungry brute who was flaunting stolen might. Might she and Rauru still had. Might that rightfully belonged to sonia. "You tried to control me, Rauru, and you will die knowing that you failed." Ganondorf laughed as he ready to fire his dark magic as the group. "No." the word was barely a breath as it escaped Zelda. "What was that?" Ganon sneered in disgust "I said No" Zelda repeated as she started to stand, "We have given you mercy and in turn you have taken everything we love. Despite your aggression, we gave you mercy, but that is not a mistake we will make again. It is my duty to protect Hyrule, and that's exactly what Intend to do." The smile on Ganondorfs face twisted into a sick grin as the small woman rose and began to approach, "If that is your wish, I would love to see you try." And fired off the spell he had been preparing.

The dark blast approached Zelda, but just as it would consume her, the growing light from the Secret Stone between her fingers deflected it like a shield. When the darkness and smoke cleared, the once gentle Zelda standing had taken on a new appearance; one as powerful as the demon king standing before her and as dark as her rage.

Rauru called out to her but she could no longer hear. For the time being he or she had become just as lost to him as the late queen. Though he didn't want Rauru knew he had to retreat without Zelda, and though he may be able to lay Sonia to rest, a part of him feared that Zelda may never rest again so long as Ganondorf yet lived. He just hoped that perhaps Zelda's lapse in judgement may yet buy him enough time to rally the nations to aid their fight to save Hyrule, and hopefully save Zelda as well.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Hello, I came across your post for Damian Priest requests, and thought I'd drop by and make one.

If it isn't too much trouble, can you do Damian Priest being protective of the reader after they were injured? The reader nicknames him Harbinger of Doom in response to a nickname he calls the reader. Angst/Fluff. (I'm a sucker for a fluffy ending). It doesn't matter which version of Priesty it is. He's awesome through it all lol.

damian priest x reader

i’m so sorry i had no idea of how to use the nickname :(( i hope you like it anyway!

nothing to prove

being the youngest and the last member of the judgment day had its pros a cons. you loved how everyone cared about you, especially a cute guy named damian. you and him bonded immediately and even if it started as a simple and cute friendship, everyone knew that you were in love with him.

and everyone knew that he was in love with you.

you were the official couple in the squad, making the fans going crazy everytime you teased each other on live television.

the constant flirting and stolen kisses were enough for the fans to start calling you “mom and dad” and even if it seemed a little weird at first you ended up loving it.

but despite everyone loving you, you started to hate how they all became protective of you. you didn’t matter damian or rhea - mostly damian - throwing a tantrum everytime you got slightly injured, it was cute how he was protecting you but overtime you got bored and even if you told him that, he never stopped doing so.

one special night turned to be a living nightmare.

you were so happy to have your own match against zoey stark. you two were friends but you knew how she could get everytime she was wrestling. she would be brutal and she wouldn’t care if she played dirty, as long as she gets the win, everything is fine to her.

and that’s what she did.

it wasn’t supposed to go like that, you were supposed to win, it was an easy match but of course she played dirty and she slightly injured your back. but the constant hits on your shoulders and back made it hurt more that you could barely stand. you just wanted the match to end so you rapidly tap out, just to end everything.

you were in too much pain that you didn’t even hear rhea attacking zoey and damian kneeling in front of inside the ring.

“you’re crazy!” you slightly heard rhea yelling “i’m gonna make you pay for this” and you knew she wasn’t kidding. she was your best friend and even if that was all a play, you were injured for rhea and that was something she couldn’t forgive.

“mi amor are you okay? estas bien?” damian asked in a whisper.

your back was killing you and your head was spinning. even the fans realised something was wrong when they saw how you couldn’t even move nor stand.

you only felt damian scooping you up in his arms and taking you to get checked. your head was hurting and when damian laid you on the bed you drifted off. tired and in pain.

when you regain consciousness you watched in the small tv inside the locker room how rhea was attacking zoey and how damian was doing nothing to stop her.

referees were trying to stop her but they couldn’t get her away from zoey. damian was laughing and teasing her in spanish.

you didn’t want that to happen. you knew zoey overstepped but that was your business, not theirs. damian was only protecting you but he was acting crazy and you couldn’t handle it anymore so you violently turned off the tv and threw the remote somewhere in the room.

you waited patiently for their feud to be over so you could talk to damian - no, so you could scream at damian for his childish behaviour.

he definitely didn’t expect to see you awake but what he also didn’t expect was to see your pissed look.

“are you okay hermosa?” he slowly started walking towards the couch you decided to sit on.

“don’t come closer damian…”

“what? are you okay?” he asked a little worried.

“you gotta explain why you went all crazy on zoey…that was none of your business” you said. you were clearly still in pain and having a fight right now wasn’t the greatest idea you ever had but you needed to speak with him.

“why? the way your face looks in pain is the reason i went all crazy on her…” he tried to keep his tone low, as he hated fighting with you.

“i know but that wasn’t your business…i could have handled her”

“oh, could you ?” he said back probably too fast.

that was low, even for him.

“i didn’t mean it like that…” he immediately apologised but if you were pissed before, now you were completely mad.

“you know what? i can handle her and i can handle myself, i have nothing to prove, especially not to you damian so if you think i’m not good enough, you can leave…” you knew you were hurting him but his words already hurt you.

“i get it, you’re mad…you’re mad because i overstepped and i shouldn’t have…but i was here backstage watching you crying in pain and knowing that i couldn’t do anything for you was killing me. it took everything in rhea’s power to hold me back from running to you when she first hit your back, knowing that she shouldn’t have…” he started explaining himself and truth be told, you couldn’t stay mad at him for longer than 10 minutes “…i was scared when i saw you almost paralyzed inside the ring…and everything i told her was because she deserved it, i don’t care if she’s your friend, she shouldn’t have done that, so yeah maybe i’m too protective of you but it’s because i love you and i can’t fucking stand seeing you hurt and in pain” he slowly knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his bigger ones “i know you can handle yourself and you proved it so many times now, but if there’s a way i can protect you from getting hurt, i might get hurt from trying princess…” he whispered, bringing your hands to his lips.

you even forgot why you were mad in the first place “you would really get hurt for me?”

“i would take a hundred of bullets for you, i gotta protect what’s mine…” he slowly teased you.

“so i’m yours…”

“from the moment i saw you in the gym training with rhea” he helped you standing up “now…we’re gonna get you checked one more time and when you’re all clear to go, i’m gonna take you back to the hotel and we’re gonna have a very nice and cozy night in…just me and you” he proposed and you nodded.

happy that someone was there to take care of you, and that the person was damian himself.

[mothdustts]

A sorta rant about Sam from Stardew Valley and his 4 heart event cuz i cant sleep and hes my wee lil goober

So apparently sam is a pretty underrated bachelor mainly due to his behaviour and personality in heart events that can cause him to come off as “immature and too young” which yea it’s understandable. So this is coming off from a perspective of a almost 20 year old uni student who really find Sam rather interesting and relatable.

So seems like a lot of people tend to point out his 4 and 10 heart events (sometime 6 even) as to their reason on finding Sam like a bit distasteful. I wanna talk about his 4 heart event cuz the more i looked back onto it, the more it hits me and find him very relatable in terms of personal experiences. So lemme bring up his 4 hear event and give yall my personal lense of it.

The 4 heart event has Sam trying to get you a snack but dropped an egg by accident, which caught Jodi’s attention.

And of course Sam seemed distressed about it, and so is Jodi’s reaction as she got mad about something as minuscule as an egg crack on the kitchen floor. We as the player has to be the one to tell Jodi what happen (where you can either tell what actually happened or choose to lie and say you dropped the egg btw)

Pretty much the best option is to lie and say you did it, and Jodi forgives you and plays it cool ofc. Jodi gives off the same reaction when you tell the truth and said that Sam dropped by accident.

I’m guessing that’s because it’s YOU who’s telling her what happened rather than it coming from Sam, which of course Jodi would be a bit more forgiving so she would cause a scene in front of their guest. Had you not been there and its just a casual day in their household, it’s likely that Sam will get hella berated and scolded by Jodi over an egg.

It seems very subtle I guess but Sam not responding to Jodi’s question may be the cause of previous experience with causing minor accidents around the house and getting scolded by his Mom. He may also seem really scared to respond with the truth, fearing his mom’s reaction hence relies on you to do the talking.

And personally, this had happened to me a lot growing up, with my mom literally scolding the fuck outta me if I ever made a minor mess or an accident around the house, so it did impacted me growing up anf maturing into adulthood. I remember as a kid I had to lie a lot because i fear that she would shout at me or worse hit me and yikes that got a wee bit dark didnt it bruh.

Sam may have not mature out in that department and of course it would have to do with his upbringing, being raised by Jodi and having an absent father as well which i’d say makes him hard to be mentally matured.

So yea i guess that all i gotta say and since this is all just speculation and basically my interpretation of this heart event, do take it with a grain of salt.

I might make a revised version of this to make it more cohesive and shit, i mean like i literally am writing this at 3am so meow :3

Y’all are welcomed to reply or reblog to open up a discussion and id love to hear and chat with you about your thoughts and insight about this hehe :D

goodnight gois!!! especially to you Sam stans out there!!!

[majorproblems77]

Linked maze fans! Hello, its me, its time for part 3!

So our good friend Frulleboi has been absolutely cooking with these update's with three in quick succession and I am loving it cause I love it and is great.

So Like Fruelleboi, I too am going to send these out in quick succession , This is for Soul stone part 3!

Now a link to the comic page can be found Here! Please go give it some love :D

For the important stuff!

Linked Maze belongs to @linked-maze and its wonderful creator @frulleboi. (You should follow them, they are wonderful) And as a heads up, Linked maze is for more mature audiences! :)

As usual, you know the drill, Grab some water, Grab some popcorn and prepare for me to ramble at you for however long it is!

Lets do this!

Understandable fear

It kinda looks like this hurts?

Does this hurt wolfy? It kinda looks painful. Maybe the forced teleport hurts him?

That's gotta hurt

Poor Four. Help himmmm.

I love how the twili teleportation looks, it's so close to the game's version that I can hear the sound in my head as I see this panel.

Very well done.

oooooooooooooohhhhhhhhh

Somebody's pissed

GET THEM FOUR!

GO GO GO

YESSSSSSSSSSS

LETS GOOOOOOO

Okay now I've stopped cheering, I am certainly intrigued as to what is gonna happen now. Are we gonna get a four-sword split thing? Is this another spell?

Do the split links have names?

I'm aware of the basics in this universe from this post

I'm excited for this! :D

You know that feeling you get when a comic you like ends on a fun bit and you are just bouncing excited hoping the next one comes soon because you're so excited for it?

Thats me rn

(Frulle I know you read these please don't rush I'll be excited as long as it takes. Also hello! I love this comic!)

:D

Alright, Thats me done. Consider this the pause while you refuel and I figure out a thought I've got hanging out in my head about this maze layout from pt1 cause I've been trying to write it for ages haha.

Have a wonderful day!

See you soon

[asleepyyeti]

longtime best friend!simon, johnny x reader

johnny discovers that simon has someone waiting at home for him. they fall for each other, but simons friend has to make it clear--simon will always come first, to them.

Simon is regretting his decisions.

He supposes this isn’t really his decision–Johnny (because of course it was Johnny) had caught him rifling through a package you had sent him, and it had been downhill from there. 

(Knew you had a bird at home! Gaz is going to love this–

Not my bird.

Aye, ‘n i’m the king of bleedin’ Scotland–

Just a friend.

Oh, even better–didnae think ye had any o those either! You’ll have to introduce us to the lass.

Over my dead body.

C’mon, L. T., we’ve gotta meet the only other person who can bear to put up with ye–

Johnny narrowly dodges the paperweight thrown at his head.)

He regrets not locking the door to his room, though in his defence, no one but Johnny was stupid enough to enter without knocking. You’d texted him a week ago to tell him the package was on the way, and he’d been itching to get his hands on something like home.

(His favourite blondies; a balaclava and a gaiter you’d made him; a tea blend you’d tried while exploring Cardiff with a friend; a photo of the neighbours cat, Pappardelle (that preferred the two of you) lounging on the sofa; an envelope thick with notes, all the things you’d wanted to share with your best friend that were too long for a text; one of your hoodies.)

Johnny had made good his threat to tell Gaz, and the two of them had somehow won the war of attrition. Even Price appeared interested, though he seemed to think he was doing a good job at hiding it. Simon gave no sign that he'd been worn down until he entered the rec room one Friday afternoon and told them to scrub up.

“Meeting ‘er at 1830. Leaving at 1730, with or without you.” 

They’d all been beside his vehicle at 1715.

Now, he was watching (and, unfortunately, hearing) you and Johnny perform a horrendously loud and off-key version of ‘Shut Up and Dance’ at the karaoke machine of your favourite bar, and the regret rears its head again. It’s not that he cares that the two of you had thrown your extremely drunk arms around each others shoulders, or that Johnny’s eyes are sparkling with something, it’s that he knows, now, that he’ll have to share you.

“I–I don’t think… hm. This is harder than I thought.”

“Take yer time, hen. I’ve nowhere else to be.”

You nod. “Right. Yeah. Okay. It’s just–no potential partner ever gets past this bit. And I’m not exactly chomping at the bit to ruin," you gesture between the two of you, "this.”

“Try me,” he says, his grin as easy as ever.

You sigh. “Okay. It’s Simon–I’m not in love with him. Before you jump to conclusions.” He holds his hands up in faux-surrender. “Sorry–everyone always thinks… anyway. Simon is family to me. Not like family, he is my family. And sometimes… sometimes you have to prioritise family. What I think I’m saying is, sometimes Simon is going to come first. And I understand if that’s a dealbreaker, but I–I won’t compromise on that.”

Johnny beams at you as if you’d just told him they'd discovered the moon was made of shortbread.

“Hen, that is–come here.” He doesn’t give you a chance to move before he’s bundling you in his arms, squeezing the life out of you even though you make noises of protest. “Thank ye for being honest, love. Ye know the way the L.T. described ye when he was off his face on anaesthesia?” You shake your head. “His soulmate.”

“Simon? Simon said that.”

“Aye, well, he was fuddlet up ta the eyeballs, but–medicated words, sober thoughts, ye ken.”

“Well, I’d agree. He’s--platonically--a part of me.”

“I feel the same way about my family–though I suppose you ‘n Ghostie got to skip the bit in your teenage years where you’re trying to kill each other.”

You hum. “Feels like he’s trying to kill me when we go to the gym together.”

“O, aye, he’s a monster–anyway, this hasn’t changed anything, love.”

“You’re sure?” you eye him skeptically.

“Well, ye wouldnae begrudge me having to skip a date or miss ye on leave to visit my sisters, would ye?”

“No, of course not.”

“So if ye have to–or want to–cancel or rearrange things because of Ghost, I won’t hold it against you. Was that the only thing ye wanted to talk about?"

You nod. "Yeah. Well, didn't think there'd be much else to say."

"Nae bother," he grins, "I've plenty to catch you up on. Let me get ye another drink--Gaz and I got up to something last month that I've been dying to tell ye about."

You don’t fully trust Johnny's word until it’s put to the test.

He and Simon were both on leave at the same time, and Johnny had spent the first week of that leave with his family. During the second week, the two of you had planned to stay near Lake Windermere for a few days, a midpoint between you. That had been the plan–until Simon came home from therapy.

You could tell it hadn’t gone well from the lack of greeting. Simon always called out when he knew you would be home–your answering call gave him the comforting knowledge of your safety. You don’t hear him shuck off his shoes, or shuffle out of his coat. Instead, he shuffles into the living room and all but collapses into the sofa. His eyes are almost glazed over. You wonder how he even managed to get home.

Immediately, you know you won't be leaving him alone for the rest of the week. You're loathe to even take your eyes off of him for the time it takes to shoot Johnny a message.

< johnny i’m really sorry

< but i can’t meet you tomorrow

> ?? what’s going on hen

< simon needs me

< i wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving him on his own right now

< i’m sorry i know you’ve already paid for this place

< how much was it? i’ll pay

> don’t be silly!!

> now we’ve a couple of options

< ???

> if you think he’d be okay, you could bring ol ghostie up with ye

> if he’s doing better, we could stay for a couple of days at the end of the week, with him or without

> if none of that works out, i can always come down to you if he doesn’t mind

> but how could he say no to my charming company 😎

< you are a godsend, john mactavish. thank you so much

< i’ll keep you posted

> of course love

> let me know if either of you need anything

> <3

“‘m surprised I’ve not had the shovel talk yet, L.T,” Johnny says one evening. They’re sat on a step at base, staring out into the woods as Simon smokes and Johnny tries his best to peel a clementine. (‘Easy peelers’ my arse, he grumbles.)  

“Figure you know the score.”

“Aye, but, would ye not feel better threatening me a bit?”

“Why’d I need to do that?”

“Dunno, make sure I stay on the straight ‘n narrow, treat yer lass well.”

“You will.”

“Well ‘o course a will, L.T, just–”

“If I didn’t think you’d treat ‘er well, you wouldn’t ‘ave got this far.”

He can tell it isn’t an empty threat. “There been others who didn’t make it this far?”

“A few,” Simon grunts.

“An’ where are they buried?” Johnny jokes.

Simon takes a deep drag. He exhales even deeper. There’s something like a smirk in his voice when he replies–something knowing, something a little off. “Now, that’d be telling, MacTavish.”