#hes in this i can probably throw the tag on

[lilghostiequinni]

Trying Something New

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Restaurant Owner!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy, None

Summary: You are probably the only one that can get Lando to try something new that involves the tiniest hint of fish.

Requested: NO / yes

You own a restaurant, well, a couple restaurants in England, and you are opening one in Monaco because you had moved there with your boyfriend and would rather be able to go to your restaurant in a short walk than a plane ride.

One thing you served in your restaurant was this dish that contained salmon, but there was little to no taste of the salmon in the dish.

You've had people come up to you and say that they normally don't eat fish, but they would eat again.

Then there's Lando, who is perfectly fine with acting like a child when it comes to fish and dishes that involve fish.

You knew that it would have to be some miracle that you were able to sneak fish into a dish and also have Lando be able to eat it without throwing a fit.

You found that if with enough sauce that Lando will eat some of the smaller seafood, like shrimp, and he will only eat scallops the way you make them.

He only ate scallops because you needed a taste tester, and he offered, which surprised you that he offered in the first place.

When he ate them he was amazed that they were actually good, and you were in shock that he actually put it in his mouth.

When he tried and ate the dish with salmon, Lando's nutritionist and trainer, Jon, was sitting right next to him, bringing some meals for while you're in England for a week.

You were going to England to check up on the restaurants there and to see your parents, and Lando had just got back from a race and you didn't want to make him leave on a plane again.

You knew that in the time you were gone, while Lando may eat the food that Jon brought, but you also knew your boyfriend and knew that he would order something in a few times and would most likely leave it in the fridge.

But you knew you would clean out the fridge when you got back because of your boyfriend. You just knew him.

He was the best thing to happen to you, and you were the best thing to happen to him.

Even his parents were shocked that you got their son to eat some fish and even a dish that is mostly fish and he loved and didn't make a face about it.

But you just shrugged whenever people expressed their shock because you were shocked, too.

But you didn't push the matter of him eating any more fish than he already has, and you also knew that he wouldn't eat any more fish than he already was.

Sometimes, you would question if you saw right when he ate fish or if you were dreaming.

Because normally, when you ate and made fish for yourself, he would make you wash your mouth out before you kissed him, which always made you giggle at him.

And he still would make you do it when you ate fish he didn't like but you still just giggled and laughed.

You still got him to try and eat fish, which is more than Carlos ever has done, which you lorded over your boyfriend's friend.

Which would make Carlos roll his eyes and shake his head at you, but you still did it.

Lando also just shakes his head at you with a smile on his face as he watches you.

It's always nice to try something new, especially when you know the person you're with isn't going to care whether or not you like it or what you do after you've tried it.

Whether you like it and eat it, or you don't and spit it out.

A/N: Winner in the 300 Follower Cele This or That poll

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @charli123456789 @smashcrabsblog @hadids-world @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @diaryofarandomkid @watermelonslut @gigicisneros @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[paishoeyeroh]

Bearer And The Bound

☰ Pairings: Sukuna x Reader, Slight Megumi x Reader

✧ Summary: When you stumble upon an ancient ring in an abandoned house, you unknowingly bind yourself to a cruel, powerful demon who thrives on torment. Trapped in a reluctant bond and forced to navigate a shared existence, Sukuna plots your downfall while you fight to survive his sadistic games. But as your fates entwine and secrets of Sukuna’s dark past begin to unravel, the lines between enemy and ally start to blur.

✧ Tags: True form Sukuna, Enemies to Lovers, Dark Romance, Demonic Bonds, Heavy Angst, Slow Burn, Sukuna is Bad at Feelings, Possessive Sukuna, Tension, Forced Proximity, Eventual Smut, College/University AU, More Tags To Be Added Later

✧ Status: Ongoing

✧ You can also read it on AO3

☰ CHAPTER TEN: Fracture

Chapter Summary: You push. Sukuna breaks.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Sukuna is ignoring you.

At first, you don’t think too much of it, assuming he’s just quiet this morning. You hadn’t seen him since last night, after all, and you figured things might be a little… tense. But by the time you’re sitting through your first lecture, tapping your pen against your notebook in distraction, the truth becomes evident. He’s doing it on purpose.

No odd comments thrown your way, no dry observations, no flickering glances. He follows, because he has to, but he doesn’t acknowledge you once. It’s as though you don’t exist.

You try to push it aside, to focus on your professor’s voice, on the words you should be writing down, but it hurts. There’s no denying that.

There’s really only one explanation for his coldness. Last night. The way you were drawn to each other like magnets. And then, Megumi’s call. A reminder of the one person Sukuna seems to despise, though you’ve never been entirely sure why. He’s never liked Megumi, never tried to hide his distaste. Whatever his reasoning, you know the timing isn’t a coincidence. Whether it was the moment itself or the interruption that followed, it’s clearly bothering him.

And if it’s not? If there’s something else behind his silence? That thought is even more frustrating, because it means you still don’t know what’s going on inside his head at all.

Between classes, you catch sight of a familiar head of pink hair bobbing above the crowd. Yuji. At the sight of him, you remember your conversation with Megumi last night. You decide to call out his name.

He turns immediately, eyes lighting up the second he spots you. A wide grin spreads across his face, and before you can brace yourself, he’s bounding toward you, all but skipping across the hall.

“Hey!” he exclaims, wrapping you in a tight, familiar hug. The embrace is warm, effortless, and you sink into it without hesitation. A real, genuine smile tugs at your lips, one you didn’t have to force. His energy, so bubbly and contagious, fills your insides with light, chasing away the darkness you’ve been carrying all morning.

“I was just thinking about you! Nobara and Megumi are coming over later to hang out. Wanna come?” he tilts his head closer to you, his hand coming up to cup the side of his mouth as he lowers his voice, “there’ll be weed and snaaaacks,” he sing-songs, as if he’s trying to bribe you into coming.

You giggle at his antics, but you feel a tight pang in your stomach at the realization that he’s trying to convince you, probably because he thinks you don’t want to go.

“Alright, I’ll come. But I’m not smoking any of your weed. Not after what happened last time,” you say with a grimace. Yuji’s weed is always incredibly strong, and since you’re not much of a smoker anyway, it had too great of an effect on you the last time you tried it. You don’t even want to think about it. The head spinning. The paranoia. The crying. Not fun.

Yuji throws his head back as he laughs, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and you have no doubt the memory is playing back through his mind.

“Oh yeah! I forgot about that. Good times,” he mocks as his hand comes up to squeeze your shoulder. “Well, just come over whenever after class. Nobara and Megumi are catching a ride with me, so we’ll all be there.” He waves his hand at you as he walks away. “See ya later!”

You find yourself still smiling long after Yuji passes by you in the hallway, his bright and bubbly mood never failing to cheer you up. Tonight is going to be just what you need.

As long as Sukuna behaves with Megumi around.

Your smile immediately falters at the thought. You glance over at him, standing a few feet away leaned up against the lockers, looking in the opposite direction of you. You sigh as you head to your next class.

The rest of the school day goes by quickly, now that you have something to look forward to. As Sukuna continues to neglect your existence, you become more and more certain that he will keep up the charade at Yuji’s place. The thought almost comforts you. Maybe it’ll feel like old times again, before you ever put on that damned ring.

You make your way up to Yuji’s apartment, lightly rapping your knuckles against the door.

It flings open suddenly, and Yuji’s standing there in all his marijuana-induced glory, having clearly started smoking already. His eyes are half-lidded and red rimmed, and there’s a wide, goofy smile plastered across his face as he welcomes you.

“Heeey! Guys, I told you she’d come!” he shouts back to the others, before beckoning you inside. You take a step in, with Sukuna following behind you before Yuji closes the door.

The moment you step inside, the thick, unmistakable scent of weed hits your nostrils. It’s warm in here, cozy in that lazy, indulgent kind of way. The coffee table is a mess of half eaten snacks—open bags of chips, crumpled candy wrappers, a box of cookies that’s already looking dangerously empty. And right in the middle of it all, Yuji’s bong sits proudly, a testament to the night they’ve obviously already been having.

Megumi is sprawled out on the couch, legs spread wide, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen him in months. His head tips lazily toward you, and a slow, lopsided smile spreads across his lips as he greets you. You return it, unable to control the tugging at your lips at the sight of him so at ease for once.

Yuji flops down beside him with a satisfied sigh, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. Meanwhile, you settle onto the floor next to Nobara, who turns to you with a look of pure relief.

“Thank god you’re here. I can’t listen to those two anymore, especially Yuji. I think I can actually feel him making me dumber.”

“That’s not because of me, it’s the weed, idiot,” Yuji quips, ducking to avoid the pillow she throws at his head in response.

You laugh, shaking your head, as you turn back to Nobara. “How’d your date go the other night?”

She immediately rolls her eyes, reaching into her bag of chips and pulling out a handful. “Ugh, don’t even get me started,” she shoves the chips into her mouth, crunching loudly. “First, he didn’t open the door for me. Then, he tried to, like, order my own food for me? And to top it all off, he didn’t even compliment my outfit!” she crushes her bag of chips in her fist in anger.

“So, naturally, I ghosted his ass. I don’t have time for that kind of disrespect.”

“Naturally,” you snort, as Megumi coughs loudly, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke as he takes a rip of the bong. He reaches out, offering it to you.

“Want some?”

You turn to him, shaking your head.

“Nah, I’m good.” you decline, watching him pass the bong to Yuji. As you do, you notice something out of the corner of your eye. It’s Sukuna, and you watch as he rounds the corner, walking out of sight. Probably off to go pout somewhere by himself like a sullen child, you think as you inwardly roll your eyes. You have no intention of dealing with that for the remainder of the night. You quickly turn your head back to the group as Megumi speaks.

“Guys, can we put a different show on?” he asks, his voice strained, almost pleading. He swallows thickly, his gaze locked onto the screen like it’s about to crawl out and grab him. “This one’s freaking me out.”

Yuji squints at the screen, then back at Megumi.

“What? It’s just Pokémon, dude,” he says before he leans forward, studying Megumi like he’s the most fascinating thing in the room. “Are you good?”

Megumi stands shakily, his face pale, quickly making his way down the hall. “I’ll be back,” he weakly mutters over his shoulder.

Nobara and Yuji watch him for a moment, bursting out in simultaneous laughter after the bathroom door slams shut.

“He must’ve smoked too much. He’s probably in there freaking out,” Nobara manages to get out through her wheezes.

“It’s not his fault,” you defend, “Yuji’s weed is way too strong. Last time I smoked with you guys, I convinced myself I was in a simulation.”

You shudder as you recall the memory, but it only encourages another round of cackles from the two.

You watch them for a moment, trying to contain your own laughter. But after what feels like way too long for a regular trip to the bathroom, Megumi still hasn’t returned.

You glance over at Yuji and Nobara, but they’re engrossed in their own conversation. They’ve either forgotten about the situation entirely or are too high to care. Or both. You realize that you’re going to have to be the one to go check on the poor guy.

You stand up with a sigh, preemptively pouring a glass of water in the kitchen before heading down the hall.

As you pass by Yuji’s bedroom, the open door offers a glimpse inside. You glance in casually, only to stop dead in your tracks at what you see.

Sukuna is there.

Flat on his back, sprawled across Yuji’s bed, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. But something’s off.

His upper set of hands are thrown over his face, fingers digging into his forehead, covering his eyes like he’s trying to block out the world. The lower set of hands are clenched into fists, the muscles in his forearms tight, twitching with some kind of barely restrained force. You don’t even have to see his face to know he’s seething. Pure, unadulterated anguish radiates off of him, thick enough to suffocate the air in your lungs.

You watch him for a second, concern twisting deep in your gut. You’ve never seen him like this. Ever. Sukuna does not unravel. But here he is, unraveling right in front of you, completely unaware that he now has an audience.

Your lips part, the start of his name forming on your tongue, but before you can speak, his hands slide up, gripping into his hair with so much force it looks like he might tear it straight from his skull.

You stand in the doorway, mouth open, quickly snapping it closed when you notice the look on his face.

His eyes are squeezed shut, brows furrowed so tight it looks like it hurts. His lips part slightly as he exhales a slow, trembling breath, one that sounds like it’s been forced from the depths of his chest. His jaw clenches, the muscles flexing repeatedly, and his fingers tighten their grip on his hair almost desperately, as if he’s trying to anchor himself, to keep from coming apart entirely.

Your own breath stills in your throat. Every muscle in your body goes rigid, your mind struggling to catch up with what you’re seeing.

What the hell is going on?

A lump forms in your throat as you try to make sense of it. He’s been avoiding you all day, shutting you out since last night, and now… this? The distance, the cold silence, was all a cover, that much is clear now. But for what?

A part of you wants to go to him. To reach out, to touch him, to offer anything that might ease whatever war is raging inside of him. The urge claws at you, visceral and insistent, your arms aching to wrap around him in comfort.

But another part of you hesitates.

I shouldn’t be here.

You’re witnessing something raw, something unguarded and deeply, painfully human. A moment he never meant for anyone to see—least of all you. You’ve been toeing a dangerous line with Sukuna for a while now, but this… this feels like stepping over it. Stumbling over it, straight into a place you don’t belong.

You should leave.

The need to understand him, to help him, gnaws at you like a hunger, but he isn’t someone who needs things like that. Sukuna doesn’t want help. He is power. He is control.

But right now…

He looks like he has neither.

You catch yourself before you do something you’ll regret, clenching your hands around the glass of water you’d forgotten you were holding. Slowly, as to not make a sound, you creep past the doorway, heading over to the bathroom.

You press your ear against the door, listening for any sign of life from inside. Nothing. No movement, no shuffling. Only silence.

After a brief hesitation, you turn the knob and push the door open, peeking your head inside.

Megumi is sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his elbows braced against his knees, his head cradled in his hands. His shoulders rise and fall with slow, deliberate breaths, the kind you take when you’re trying to will your heartbeat to steady.

“Megumi?”

He lifts his head at the sound of your voice, blinking sluggishly. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, his pupils blown wide. It takes him a second to register you standing there, and when he does, his posture stiffens just a little. A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips—weak, sheepish—before he clears his throat.

“I’m alright, I just needed to chill in here for a second.”

You step into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind you before lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. The cool tiles press against your legs as you settle in close to his feet, holding out the glass.

“Here, drink this. I got you some water.”

Megumi takes it, fingers brushing against yours for a fleeting moment. He doesn’t look at you right away, instead staring down at the rim of the glass like it suddenly holds the secrets of the universe.

“Thanks,” he mutters, finally lifting it to his lips. He swallows a few careful sips before adding, “Sorry for ruining the vibe.”

You shake your head, lips twitching into a small smile as you reach out, rubbing his arm in comfort.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure him, your voice soft, “you didn’t ruin anything.”

That gets him to look at you, but only briefly, his eyes flickering to yours before darting away. He shifts slightly on the edge of the tub.

You grin, deciding to tease him just a little. “Come back out whenever you’re ready. Oh, and I’ll make sure that show isn’t on when you do.”

His lips part slightly before pressing into a flat line. A weak chuckle escapes him, half amusement, half mortification. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”

You squeeze his arm lightly before rising to your feet. As you do, you glance down at him one last time, watching as he rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. Stifling a giggle, you reach for the doorknob.

“See you out there,” you say, stepping through the doorway.

As you make your way back to the living room, you pass by Yuji’s room once again. This time, you keep your gaze fixed straight ahead, resisting the urge to steal another glance inside. If Sukuna were to catch you looking, even for a second, he’d know you saw him earlier. He always knows. And you’re not sure you’d be able to school your expression fast enough to keep the truth from spilling across your face.

Right now isn’t the time to deal with whatever it is Sukuna’s got going on. Right now, you just want to have fun with your friends. You can deal with anything else once you get home.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

Upon re-entering the living room, you notice the show from earlier has already been turned off, the soft hum of music filling the space instead—low, rhythmic beats that sink into the atmosphere like a gentle pulse. Yuji is sprawled across the couch on his back with a half-eaten chip bag laying forgotten on his lap, one arm tucked behind his head, the other drumming lazy fingers against his stomach in time with the music. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his expression distant, no doubt lost somewhere in the hazy lull of his high.

Nobara mirrors his sprawl on the floor, phone in hand, absentmindedly scrolling as she occasionally pops a chip into her mouth. You retake your spot beside her, snatching one from the bag without a word.

“Do you think that grass is, like, the earth’s pubic hair?”

“Yuji. Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Nobara responds immediately. Based on her reply, you can only assume this has been going on for a while.

“I’m just saying! It makes sense if you think about it.”

“He’s kinda got a point,” you add with an amused tilt of your lips.

“Please, don’t encourage him.”

“You guys just need to get on my level. Nobody’s on my level,” Yuji pouts.

Before anyone can respond, Megumi reappears, looking far better than he did before. His complexion is no longer pale, his movements steadier, the color returned to his cheeks. He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the room, shaking off the last remnants of his ordeal.

“Welcome back, buddy!” Yuji exclaims, immediately sitting up to make room for him on the couch. “We were worried about you! Were you fighting demons in there or what?”

Megumi levels a deadpan look at him before scanning the room, his gaze settling on you and Nobara before he sinks back into his previous spot. In one swift motion, he reaches over and swipes the bag of chips right off Yuji’s lap with a little more force than necessary.

“Nobody speaks of this outside of this room,” he says, voice flat as he pops a chip into his mouth. “Or you’re all dead.”

“Alright, jeez. Relax. Not like we’ve never greened out before,” Nobara mutters without looking up from her phone.

As the night winds down, conversations fade into a comfortable lull, and Nobara suggests putting on a movie. You settle in as it plays, watching it unfold on screen, but your mind is elsewhere now.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about what you saw in Yuji’s room—Sukuna lying there, his hands fisted in his hair like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will, seemingly teetering on the edge of some sort of breakdown.

You’ve never seen him like that, so unguarded, so vulnerable. You’ve seen him express emotion, sure. Anger, usually. Or quieter flickers hidden beneath sharp words and sharper smiles. But you’ve never seen something like that, not from him. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Is it because of me?

The question nags at you, digging into your ribs like a phantom dagger, whispering doubts into the corners of your mind.

Would he be angry if he knew you saw him like that? Or would he shut you out even more?

The idea sends a wave of sadness through you. Your heart aches for him. Whatever it is he’s going through, you have a sinking feeling that he’ll never open up, no matter how much you pry.

You shift in your spot, eyes flitting toward Yuji’s bedroom before quickly turning away.

Don’t.

The urge to check on him gnaws at you, but after the cold shoulder he’s been giving you all day, you doubt he’d give you the answers you’re looking for.

So instead, you decide it’s time to head home for the night. Yujis passed out anyway, having fallen asleep almost as soon as the movie started, and Megumi looks like he’s close behind him. You stand, gathering your things as you whisper your goodbyes, heading to the door.

Just as your fingers curl around the doorknob and open it to step outside, Sukuna appears, rounding the corner with his usual quiet grace. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t look anywhere but forward. He just slips past you and steps out the door ahead of you, carefully maneuvering his body so that his arm doesn’t so much as slightly brush your own.

You exhale slowly, watching his back as he strides ahead, his steps long and deliberate. You’re not surprised to see him keeping up his silent act. He doesn’t know that you saw him in Yuji’s room, after all. He doesn’t know you stood there, rooted in place, witnessing him beginning to unravel at the seams.

You step outside after him, the cold air a sharp contrast to the cozy warmth of Yuji’s apartment, slapping you like an icy wake-up call. Sukuna is already way ahead of you. The wind tugs at the strands of his hair, but he doesn’t react—just keeps walking, his movements purposeful, controlled.

By the time you reach the car, he’s already inside, the door shutting with a firm click. You sigh, tightening the grip on your keys.

You settle into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. The hum of the car feels louder than usual in the empty space between you. Neither of you says a word.

You want to say something, anything, to break this awkward tension. But… what can you say? You glance over in his direction briefly, but Sukuna is turned away, the side of his face barely visible in the dim light coming off the dashboard. You can’t tell if he’s avoiding you, or just lost in his own thoughts. Probably both. Either way, you can feel the distance continuing to grow between you with every minute that ticks by.

You clench your jaw, fighting the urge to demand an explanation for his behavior today.

Just drive.

When you finally pull into the parking lot to your apartment, Sukuna doesn’t wait. As soon as the car comes to a stop and you shut the engine off, he’s already out, his door slamming shut before you can un-click your seatbelt.

You watch his back as he walks ahead, his long strides forcing you to pick up your pace just to keep up. With every step, frustration burns hotter inside of you, winding itself around the ache that’s been sitting there since you saw him in Yuji’s room.

Why won’t he let you in? He’s hurting, you saw it with your own eyes. So why is he still keeping you at arm’s length? Why does he insist on suffering in silence when you’re right here?

By the time you reach the door to your apartment, your chest feels tight with your unspoken thoughts, the urge to voice them aloud becoming harder and harder to resist. You step inside right behind him, closing the door softly despite your inner turmoil threatening to spill over. And once again, Sukuna moves past you without a word, already striding down the hall, probably planning to disappear to wherever the hell he goes when he doesn’t want to be seen.

You make a quick decision. You’ve had enough of being ignored. You can’t just keep pretending everything is fine, like you’re sure he intends to. You have to say something.

“Sukuna.”

He stops, turning halfway around to face you. You study him carefully, searching for even the faintest trace of what you witnessed earlier—the tension in his jaw, the desolation in his face, the silent war he was waging within himself.

But there’s nothing.

Where there should be emotion—something raw and real—there is only an empty stare, a hollow reflection of the man you know lurks beneath his mask.

Cold. Dark. Void.

It’s a door slammed shut, an unspoken message that whatever moment of weakness you glimpsed was never meant for you.

The air between you grows infinitely heavier, colder. You can almost physically feel it, the absence of him, like something vital has been drained from the space he occupies. It prickles at your skin, wrapping itself around you, a quiet, almost suffocating numbness that mirrors the emptiness in his gaze.

He raises his brows at you, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

“Have I?” his voice is steady, indifferent.

You fold your arms across your chest, feeling your irritation finally rising to the surface. “Yes. You haven’t said a word to me all day. You haven’t even looked at me, not since—“ you cut yourself off, afraid to bring up the almost-kiss directly, “not since last night.”

Sukuna turns away, dismissing you with the shift of his shoulders, as if the conversation itself is beneath him. “There’s nothing to say,” he replies flatly, his tone impersonal, like he’s already decided this discussion isn’t worth his time.

But you refuse to allow him to slip through your fingers so easily. “Come on, don’t do that,” you step closer to him, determined to not let him brush it off, “don’t just… shut me out. Haven’t we moved past this?” your voice softens, the concern evident in your words.

Sukuna remains still, his shoulders drawn tight, his entire body wound like a thread stretched too thin. He doesn’t turn to respond, but his silence speaks louder than any answer he could give. And still, you push, even knowing it might only drive him further away.

“Why won’t you just talk to me?” you continue, your frustration giving way to something dangerously close to pleading. “I’ve opened up to you about everything—about my past, my ex, my life. You’ve basically seen it all. But you? You’ve given me nothing. You hide behind this wall like you’re… some… untouchable thing.”

At that, Sukuna finally turns his head, just slightly, his narrowed eyes settling on you over his shoulder. There’s a shift in the way his eyes almost darken, like a tide pulling back before the wave crashes. His voice is low, almost a growl.

“What exactly do you want from me?”

His question stings, cutting deep. Your throat constricts, like his own words have wrapped themselves tight around your airway, but you swallow hard, willing yourself to push through it.

“I want you to stop pretending that this means nothing to you,” you say, gesturing between the two of you, between the space that feels impossibly vast despite how close you stand, “that I mean nothing to you.”

For a moment, he just stares blankly at you in response. Then, without warning, a low, humorless laugh escapes him, dry and sharp, like the crack of a splintering bone. “You think this… whatever this is, means something to me?”

You take a breath, the words that have been stuck inside you for days, weeks, finally crashing to the surface.

“I know it does,” you say, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts, “and I know you feel it too, Sukuna. You’re not as detached as you think you are.”

He whips around at that, his face twisting, a sharp flash of anger breaking through his emotionless exterior. His brows pull together in disbelief, a deep furrow forming between them.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he snaps, his voice sharp. “Let me guess, you think just because we’re stuck in this bond, you can ‘fix’ me, is that it? You think I can feel anything? Love? Don’t be foolish.”

You’re taken aback by his words, his sudden anger. This is not how you wanted this conversation to go at all. But it’s happening now, spiraling out of control right in front of you, and there’s no turning back.

“I’m not trying to fix you. I’m just asking you to let me in.” You step closer, desperate to break through the icy wall he continues to throw up, to finally see the real him that he’s been hiding behind it. You’re tired of him pretending there’s nothing left of the man he once was.

Fuck it. You might as well let it all out.

“I’m not like her, Sukuna.”

His reaction is immediate. Sukuna’s body stiffens, his shoulders locking into place as if he’s just been struck. His eyes widen dangerously as his stare burns straight through you, unsettling you to your core.

“What?” His voice is low, quiet, but full of warning, like a blade pressed to your throat.

Your pulse pounds rapidly in your ears, your instincts screaming at you to stop and retreat, but you can’t stop yourself. The words continue to spill out.

“Look, I know about Uraume. I know what she did to you. I—“

“If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully,” he interrupts, his tone razor-sharp and dripping with venom.

You really should stop talking. Any rational person would. But the next words are already on your tongue, your desperation outweighing your better judgment. If you just keep pushing, if you can just make him see—he’ll believe you. He has to.

“I’m not her, Sukuna. You can trust me. I would never do that to you.”

His eyes flash, cold rage igniting in them like a distant storm, dark and inevitable. He takes a slow step toward you, his presence suddenly overwhelming, and you have to lock your legs in place to fight the urge to step back in response.

“Since you think you know so much,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt, “then surely you know what happened to her, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head in response, your voice sounding much smaller and less confident than before. “No, I don’t.”

His expression changes, the sharp edges of his fury settling into something eerily calm. Too calm. His lips curl, not into a smirk, but something that resembles more of a grimace, though his eyes remain wide, uncanny and hollow.

“I killed her.”

He takes another step closer, and a sudden, primal fear rises inside you, sharp and instinctual. Your body tenses as you cower back.

His jaw tightens, and for a brief moment, a shadow of something—pain, maybe rage—contorts his features. But it’s gone in an instant, swallowed expertly by that cold, unrelenting mask.

“She screamed,” he continues, his voice dipping lower, “begged for mercy, for forgiveness.” A slow, humorless chuckle escapes him, causing a chill to run along your flesh. “As if it meant anything. As if I would ever grant her either.”

He takes a final step forward, and you don’t move, don’t breathe.

“I tore her apart, piece by piece for what she did to me. Watched her blood stain the ground like spilled ink. And when she finally stopped screaming, when she gasped that last, pitiful breath—“ he leans in, just slightly, “it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.”

Your stomach plummets, a sickening drop that leaves you dizzy. His words coil around your throat like a noose, tightening, choking. You had considered the possibility—of course you had. Sukuna had killed before. You had seen it yourself in the visions of his past. But those had been in battle, acts of war and conquest.

This… this was something else entirely.

A slow, merciless dismantling. A deliberate, calculated destruction of someone he once loved. Nausea rises in the pit of your stomach, threatening to bubble up into your throat. You stare at him, at the thing standing in front of you, and for the first time, you feel like you’re truly seeing him. The demon. The unrepentant, merciless king who had bathed in the blood of those who wronged him.

The Sukuna you’ve come to know—the one who met your wit with dry amusement, the one whose touch had once felt gentle against your skin, who had almost kissed you just yesterday—is gone.

“I…”

You take another step back, the words struggling to form on your trembling lips.

“You’re nothing like her,” he sneers, his voice laced with disdain, “and you never will be. You think just because you have some sort of odd little obsession with me, that makes you special? That I could ever feel for you what I once felt for her?” His lips curl into something akin to a snarl, “I am a monster. I kill, I destroy, I devour.”

His words strike like a blade, each syllable leaving his lips like tiny knives carving into your heart, stripping it away piece by piece, leaving you hollow. You can do nothing but watch, wide-eyed, empty, nothing left but the overwhelming ache where hope used to be.

“You’re nothing to me,” he continues, cruel and cutting. “Your pathetic little life is a mere speck in the grand scheme of things. I have been here for centuries. And I will continue to be here long after you’ve rotted, buried deep and forgotten underground.”

The room feels like it’s closing in on you, your vision blurring around the edges as your eyes begin to fill with unshed tears. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You have no words. The air is heavy, thick with the weight of his cold dismissal of you.

“I’m not capable of love, girl, and you’d do well to remember that.” He says, his voice quieter now, but no less harsh.

“I’m not some human you can change and mold into a version that you prefer. I’m a demon. That’s all I’ll ever be.” He takes a step back, his face hard and unrelenting. “And if you think for even a second that I could ever care about you, then you’re even more fucking pathetic than I thought.”

The tears come fast, scorching trails down your flushed cheeks as your breath turns ragged. Your vision blurs, the room shrinking in around you, and all you can think is that you need to get away. Away from him, from his words still ringing in your skull, splintering through your chest like jagged glass.

You don’t look at him. You don’t even think. You just run.

You barely make it to your bedroom before the first sob rips free, raw and uncontrollable. The door slams behind you, but it does nothing to stop the pain from clawing its way up your throat, your shoulders heaving with the force of it. You stumble forward, collapsing onto your bed, curling in on yourself like a wounded animal.

Your hands tangle in your hair, gripping tightly, desperately, as if you could anchor yourself, as if you could stop the ache spreading through your chest, sinking deep into your bones. But it’s useless. The sobs wrack through you, shaking you to your very core, your breaths coming sharp and fast, too fast, until you’re gasping, until it feels like you’re drowning in it, in him, in everything you thought you had and everything he just tore apart in an instant.

And still, his voice lingers. Still, it hurts.

How could you be so stupid?

Of course he doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t feel. He’s a demon—a creature of pure, unrelenting cruelty. You knew that. You’ve always known that. And still, somehow, you let yourself believe. You let yourself hope that there was something more beneath all that rage and ruin, something real. Something for you.

But there isn’t.

There never was.

You’re just a pathetic, lovesick fool, chasing a dream that was never yours to begin with. He’s not a man. He’s not someone to be understood or saved, not someone who could ever love you back. He is darkness, destruction, a force of nature that does not bend, does not break, does not care.

Your stomach twists with the sheer humiliation of it, shame seeping into your skin like poison. How could you let yourself fall? How could you have been so blind?

Your body trembles as you curl in tighter, rocking slightly, trying to push it away, to find some shred of comfort in the wreckage. But the thoughts won’t stop. The hurt won’t stop. It digs into your ribs, carves itself into your heart, reminding you over and over and over—

“You’re nothing to me.”

A strangled sob tears from your throat, raw and broken, as you bury your face into the pillow, desperate to muffle the sound. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. The ache in your chest is too big, too unbearable, clawing at your ribs, crushing the air from your lungs.

For a fleeting moment, you think about leaving. Just getting up and walking out the door, disappearing into the night, never looking back. Maybe if you run fast enough, far enough, you can outrun this pain, escape the weight of what you’ve done, what you let yourself believe.

But where would you go?

There is nowhere he wouldn’t follow. No distance you could put between you that the bond wouldn’t snap back into place, dragging you right back to him. He is inescapable.

And you are trapped.

Your chest tightens violently, a crushing, suffocating weight settling onto it, making it impossible to breathe. The walls feel smaller, the air thinner, the room closing in like a prison. You squeeze your eyes shut, fists clenching in the sheets, trying to steady yourself, to think, to breathe.

Breathe.

Eventually, the sobs fade, not because the pain lessens, but because your body simply can’t keep up with it anymore. You lie still, curled in on yourself, drained beyond measure. The tears don’t stop, though—they slip silently down your face, soaking into the pillow, leaving behind the sticky remnants of grief. The hurt remains, dull now, a hollow, throbbing thing inside your chest, like an open wound that refuses to close.

You take a trembling breath, staring blankly at the wall as the crushing silence of the room presses in around you, thick and suffocating.

“You’re nothing to me.”

The words replay in your head, slow and deliberate, sinking deeper with every repetition. Maybe he’s right. Maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe you were foolish, delusional to think you could ever be anything more than a passing amusement to him. To believe you could reach something inside him that simply doesn’t exist.

And yet.

Even as you think it, even as you try to carve the truth into your own heart, a part of you refuses to believe it. Because you know better.

You’ve seen it. Felt it.

Despite his cruelty, despite the ice in his voice, despite the way he shut you out like you were nothing—you know there’s something beneath it all, something he won’t let himself admit.

But if he refuses to acknowledge it… does it even matter?

The thought lingers, heavy and unresolved, sinking deep into the marrow of your bones.

It shouldn’t matter. It can’t matter.

As you lie there, hollowed out and aching, the weight of his words pressing into your ribs like iron, you know this wound won’t fade so easily. It’s carved too deep, settled too far inside you.

So you let the tears fall, silent and endless, tracing paths down your skin like a grief that refuses to be swallowed. You close your eyes against the darkness, but there is no escape—not from this, not from him.

All you can do now is endure.

☰ Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

☰ Taglist: @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @after-laughter-come-tears @rizzyjuney609 @prezzleyy

[adverbally]

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Written for the @stmarchmm prompt “breeding” | wc: 2,057 | rated: E | cw: sexual content, references to intentional pregnancy and babies/pups | tags: Steddie, omega Steve, alpha Eddie, established relationship, bondmates mating cycles/in heat, intersex omegas, trying to conceive, breeding kink, knotting | title from “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter

———

When Steve’s heat finally hits, he’s been anticipating it for so long that he’s not sure what to do.

For months, he and Eddie have been talking about trying to get pregnant. They’re bonded, they have a spare bedroom for a nursery, their loved ones are there to support them and spoil the hell out of their baby. Steve’s off his birth control. They’re ready. Really. All they need is one good heat.

But now Steve’s pacing the length of their bathroom before dawn, burning with fever but wracked with chills, pressing the heels of his hands into his aching eyes, feeling utterly terrified.

This isn’t just some abstract plan for the future anymore. Here and now, they’re taking responsibility for a living, breathing human being that they’re going to create together. It’s everything Steve has ever wanted. It’s his worst nightmare. His heart is racing with the need to have his alpha close, to be taken care of and knotted until he’s thoroughly pupped, but his hands won’t stop shaking and he thinks he might be sick.

Steve sits on the cold tile, the bathmat shoved aside so he can feel the comforting chill on his bare legs. The porcelain of the bathtub behind him has a similar effect along his back and shoulders. When he tilts his head back, the tub is the perfect height to rest his skull on the ledge next to their toiletries.

It has to be nerves, right? He still wants this so badly his hands twitch at the thought. A baby, their baby, with that powdery clean scent and Eddie’s big brown eyes, maybe Steve’s nose. A whole little person to watch over and teach and love until he takes his final breath. A family of their own. God, he can’t think of anything he wants more.

That soothes something in Steve’s gut, makes him feel like his chest isn’t about to collapse in on itself. Maybe what he thought was anxiety is really just excitement. Maybe it’s just a natural fear of change, even if the change is a good thing.

Steve gets to his feet. Enough freaking out. He splashes some cold water on his face, which doesn’t do much for the feverish pink spots high on his cheeks but makes him feel calmer. He’s gonna go back out there, call in his heat leave, and wake up his mate so they can make a baby.

Eddie promptly derails that plan by scaring the hell out of Steve, who wasn’t expecting him to be standing right outside the bathroom door.

“Sorry!” Eddie exclaims, his own eyes wide with surprise. “Just, you weren’t in bed when I woke up and your scent was—”

“My heat is starting.”

They blink at each other for a moment before Eddie breaks the stunned silence. “Oh my god,” he says softly, covering his mouth with both hands. Then he laughs and throws his arms out and shouts excitedly, “Oh my god!”

His enthusiasm is contagious. Steve smiles as Eddie pulls him into a clumsy kiss, their teeth clacking and noses bumping, hugging tightly enough to bruise.

“Really?” Eddie asks, pulling away to hold Steve’s face between his hands like he can tell whether he’s in heat just by looking at him. Actually, he probably can tell by the feverish flush across Steve’s cheeks and the warmth of his skin, but he still asks.

“Yes, really,” Steve confirms.

Eddie kisses him again, then he starts herding Steve toward the bed like he’s some kind of sheepdog. “Okay, you get comfy. I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be out for the week.”

“Will you call Robin, too? She’ll get the word out so nobody worries if we don’t answer the phone.”

“Of course. Be back in a jiffy.”

Eddie practically runs out of the room and all Steve can think is: That man’s gonna be the father of my children.

It sends a wave of want through him. Eddie will be here in less than five minutes, then he’ll fuck Steve and put a baby in him, just like they planned. A shiver runs up his spine, feverish and excited. He should be ready for Eddie when he comes back.

Steve steps out of his boxers and climbs into bed, settling himself on Eddie’s pillow. He inhales the scent of smoke and amber, dark and warm, and thinks about smelling it straight from the source. In just a few minutes, he’ll be nipping at the bonding mark on Eddie’s neck and breathing him in to his heart’s content.

Just thinking about it makes Steve squeeze his thighs together against the ache he feels. He’s so empty, and Eddie’s the only one who can fix it. Even as he slips two fingers, then three, inside himself, Steve imagines more: the perfect fullness of Eddie’s cock, the delicious stretch of his knot. The way his belly will swell after Eddie knocks him up.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

Steve lets out a whine at the prospect of having his mate so near but not being touched by him yet. His own hand is a poor substitute for Eddie’s, missing his calluses and the coolness of his poor circulation and the way he knows how to play Steve just like his beloved guitar. It’s not enough.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie’s voice is suddenly coming from right next to him, perched on the edge of the bed. His hand on Steve’s face is a relief, like a cold glass of water. “I’ve got you.”

“Want it,” Steve tells him, pleads with him as he gropes for any bare skin he can reach, desperate to feel Eddie, real and solid beside him.

Eddie gently grasps Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand from between his legs with a slick squelch. “Do you need more prep first or are you—?”

“Just your cock,” Steve huffs, shifting impatiently. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so affected by a heat before. Probably something to do with stopping his birth control, he guesses, but the cause doesn’t matter much when he’s being hollowed out and burned alive by the overwhelming want that’s flooding through him.

And he must have missed Eddie moving again, because he’s startled by the sensation of Eddie’s cock sliding through his folds. Kneeling between Steve’s spread thighs, Eddie doesn’t thrust inside yet, just nudges the head of his cock against Steve’s and smears his wetness around with every slow roll of his hips. He knows how badly Steve needs him and he’s still toying with him.

It’s starting to hurt now, the way his cunt clenches around nothing while his mate is right there. “Please, Alpha, please,” he begs, arching his back and reaching for Eddie’s hips to try to guide him inside.

Eddie catches both of his wrists in one giant hand and presses them into the pillows above Steve’s head. He leans down, their bodies pressed together from hips to shoulders, and buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, right over his mating bite.

The scrape of Eddie’s teeth is a silent reminder of their bond, thrumming through Steve like a plucked string. Telling Steve not to worry, asking for his trust, promising that he’ll be taken care of. Steve relaxes at his alpha’s reassurance. He’s still needy, still heat-drunk and aching for Eddie’s knot, but no longer frantic with it.

“So good for me,” Eddie murmurs, releasing Steve’s wrists. With his newly freed hand, Eddie takes hold of his cock, right at the base where his knot is already starting to swell, and slowly feeds it into Steve’s cunt.

Steve doesn’t think he could speak if he tried. Eddie is so hot and thick inside him, it’s like he’s pushing all the air out of Steve’s lungs so he can’t make a sound. All he can do is cling to him, fingers tangling in Eddie’s hair where his arms are locked around his neck, and let his mouth hang open as he gasps for breath.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he bottoms out. His first thrusts are tentative, gentle rocks in and out that glide smoothly through Steve’s slick. “That’s what you needed, huh? My cock filling you up?”

“Eddie.” His name feels so good in Steve’s mouth, as good as Eddie’s cock stuffing his pussy to the brim. They fit together like they were made to, so easy that Steve doesn’t have to think. He can just focus on the hot drag of each stroke, the way Eddie can get so deep with just a twitch of his hips, carving out a space inside Steve that nobody else will ever be able to fill.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I swear, it’s like you’re already glowing.”

He believes it, can practically feel it radiating from his skin, soaking into the sheets beneath him. It makes him smile, then chuckle when Eddie beams back at him. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way. Joy and pleasure just keep bubbling up in his chest, lighter than air, like he’s a helium balloon, bobbing as they rock together.

Then Eddie pauses to adjust the position of Steve’s knee, and the next thrust takes Steve’s breath away when Eddie’s cock hits him just right.

“Fuck,” he moans, rolls his hips into the next one to relish the way he feels even fuller at this angle. “More, please, I need—”

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” Speeding up his pace, Eddie drives in even deeper, the slap of his hips obscenely loud each time they meet the slick-smeared skin between Steve’s thighs. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, baby, don’t you worry.”

The promise pounds in Steve’s ears in time with his heartbeat. Eddie will take care of him. Eddie will fuck him better than anyone else ever could, will empty himself inside Steve and then knot him for good measure, again and again until Steve’s heat breaks. Until he’s bred, full with as many pups as Eddie can give him.

He must’ve been thinking out loud, because Eddie cups his cheek tenderly and murmurs, “That’s right, honey, all the puppies you want. Gonna be such a good mama.”

“Want it,” Steve agrees, nuzzling into Eddie’s touch. Warm and safe here in their nest, with his Alpha’s knot starting to catch at his hole, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s coming out of this heat pregnant. It feels too right to fail. He hums his satisfaction against Eddie’s hand.

“Getting close for me?” Eddie slows his hips, returning to the slow grinds that make Steve’s toes curl. “Wanna come on my cock like a good Omega? Squeeze every last drop out of my knot so you can have my baby—”

Steve goes silent when he comes, unable to catch his breath or put together a coherent thought. His pussy spasms around Eddie’s cock until his Alpha can’t pull away, can only rock into the wet clutch of him as his knot pops past Steve’s rim.

“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” Eddie pants. He muffles his groan in the crook of Steve’s neck, mouthing at his mating bite as he spills inside of him.

If he hadn’t still been riding out his first orgasm, the sensation would be enough to make Steve come again. He’s acutely aware of each jerk of Eddie’s cock, each hot spurt filling him, his Alpha’s knot swelling further to lock them together. It settles him in a way he didn’t know he needed, sates him so completely that he goes limp in Eddie’s arms.

He can hear Eddie speaking to him, though he sounds far away. “So good for me,” he soothes, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw and raking sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. “My beautiful mate. I love you so much.”

Steve ducks his head to capture Eddie’s lips with his, gasping when the movement makes Eddie’s knot twitch. “Love you, too, Alpha. Took such good care of me,” he croons. He laces his fingers with Eddie’s and tugs their joined hands to rest over his lower belly, still flat but full of promise. “Of us.”

“Always,” Eddie vows, sealing it with another soft kiss. “Now get some rest before the next wave hits.”

“Then you can make sure it takes,” Steve grins.

———

It does.

[rcmclachlan]

several sentences sun monday

I was tagged yesterday by the lovely @setmeatopthepyre, but I got in late last night and couldn't muster the energy to post.

Here's another flashback snippet from my yet-unnamed fic. This little scene takes place sometime between 7x10 and 8x01.

+

"Chris and I used to go to the Griffith's All Space Considered thing once a month, and one of the coolest things they taught me is that debris disks are found around stars with older planet systems." He pulled up the photo of Fomalhaut that he liked to look at sometimes. The disk was shaped like a giant, red eye, with the star acting as a pin-prick pupil in its center. "I mean, they can form if, like, asteroids crash into each other, too. This one is only 25 light-years away, but it's not in our part of the sky right now. We could look at Vega, though! Vega's got one, too."

It was second nature to open the Star Walk app, but tonight it felt almost superfluous, considering he could easily make out most of the constellations LA's light pollution normally hid. He held up his phone, slowly moving it until he landed in the Lyra constellation, a faded image of a harp superimposed over that patch of sky. He tilted his head so Tommy could see the screen.

"Very cool. Remind me to make you watch Contact at some point," Tommy murmured, reaching up to adjust the phone for a better look.

As Tommy studied it, his index finger started tapping almost thoughtfully against Buck's second knuckle, and then, haltingly, he covered Buck's hand on the phone case with his own and guided the phone leftward to a different point in the sky. Their fingers slid together. Buck wanted to throw his head back and howl at the sheer intimacy of it. He settled for gasping out a breath and chubbing up in his jeans.

Finally, the phone came to a stop, and on the screen the star map rearranged itself to accommodate the new position, and the image of the harp became a dog. Canis minor, it read.

Buck looked away from the screen and used their arms as a sightline to try and find the actual constellation in the sky.

"Is that your favorite? It's a good one. I love dogs."

Tommy's breath washed over his ear, dredging up goosebumps in its wake. "There's... there's a star in it."

"More than one, usually." Buck was loathe to break the hush of the night, but he couldn't help himself, so he split the difference to tease Tommy as quietly as he could, although it was probably drowned out by the pounding of his heart.

Where it held the phone up, Buck's hand began to shake, although he wasn't entirely sure why. He'd held up 50lb kettlebells for way longer. On the screen, the big, bright star in the dog's flank gained a name.

"I-Is it that one? Procyon?"

"No," Tommy said, just as quietly. "Not that one."

+

No pressure tags: @dadvans, @firehose118, @screamlet, @liminalmemories21, @beanarie, @geddyqueer, @leashybebes, @dharmaavocado

[nisbanisba]

Seven sentence Sunday and apparently also inspiration weekend? Instead of a little mood board, here is a video of Nelson talking (and slamming into my legs) and some pictures of my parents’ old cat Legba, who Ramon is modeled after lookswise.

I tried to find the Note from early in the pandemic when I got just ridiculously high on homemade edibles and transcribed everything Nelson said but I think it got lost when I switched phones. Nevertheless it was good practice for Ramon’s dialogue in Of Headaches and Housecats!

Then he’s in the kitchen, and he probably had a reason to be there, right? “Why am I here?” he asks, rubbing his forehead.

“Mah-ah-ROOOOOO,” answers Ramon, swaggering out of nowhere and throwing his bulk against Carlos’s legs, rubbing his head against Carlos’s shins and purring raucously as he tries to weave figure 8’s around Carlos’s feet. Carlos feels suddenly dizzy watching him and throws out a hand to steady himself, but the counter isn’t quite where he thought it would be. Ramon slams into Carlos’s legs again, begging to be loved. Carlos feels himself falling, the floor wavering below him. He flails his arm wildly.

Somehow, his hand finds purchase on the edge of the sink, and he holds on as tightly as he can, finding his feet under him. He grips the edge of the counter and takes slow, deliberate breaths, waiting for the room to stop rotating around him.

“Mra-a-aaaa?” asks Ramon curiously, jumping onto the counter next to Carlos and bestowing many loving headbutts to Carlos’s arms and ribs.

“No cats on the counter,” Carlos wheezes, but he instinctively drops a kiss on Ramon’s tiny forehead when his stripey boy leans in for it. Ramon is a criminal, but his intentions are mostly pure. Beezus has strolled in as well, and she prowls the kitchen rubbing her face against the table and chairs and cabinets and door frames, so that there can be no doubt who the true homeowner is. “Ok. We’re good. I’m good, guys, I can tell you were very worried,” Carlos tells the crew. “Now. …Uh, dinner, right?” He moves very cautiously, but the vertigo doesn’t seem so bad now. He can feed his cats. It’s not complicated.

Thank you for tags @lemonlyman-dotcom @welcometololaland @annoyingcloudearthquake @heartstringsduet @theghostofashton !

No pressure tags

@rmd-writes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @bonheur-cafe @liminalmemories21

@strandnreyes

@everlastingday

@reyesstrand @sunshineacd @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions

@sapphic--kiwi

@carlos-in-glasses

@my-beloved-lakes

@ladytessa74 @butchreyes @decafdino @never-blooms

@no-goodbyes-no-regrets @freneticfloetry @eclectic-sassycoweyes @herefortarlos

@alrightbuckaroo @tellmegoodbye @chicgeekgirl89 @lightningboltreader @captain-gillian

@paperstorm

@nancys-braids @pimento-playing-hopscotch @goodways @literateowl @carlos-tk @henrygrass @rangersoup

@futures-tense

[skaters-art-blog]

Soooo Undertales 10th anniversary is this year, yes? I wanted to create something special to celebrate how much this game means to me, so naturally this means creating the first full length, fully colored, (partially) animated "Lyric comic" I've ever made!!

This is just a WIP, and I already know many changes I want to make from now til the final product (which i hope to release in time with the anniversary in September) but for now, take this animatic that I banged out in just a month!

I'm so excited for the real thing and I hope you guys are too!

[beatcroc]

pest control.

bonus:

*UPDATE: i made a sequel

[clownsuu]

Hi hello, would you look at that, huh! Saw this lil fella on our backyard a dozen times already.. he looked lonely and it's getting cold here, so maybe I should take him in -

You seem to know a thing or two about bugs and I never seen one like this! So I thought I could ask for advice, like is he the friendly kind at all?

(Couldn't take much pictures cuz he kept wiggling around 😔😔)

I G A S P E D

THE LITTLEST OF GUYS

[starflungwaddledee]

Oooo starstruck dee has little stars at the bottom of her feet! Are they just aesthetic or would they make imprints into the ground? (like pawprints)

exactly like that! though she's not the only one...

edit: might need to add some additional dialogue to this to make it more clear, but a clarification in the interim; he knows about his own footprints. he's just surprised to see something similar already there when he knows he's only just landed. he lifts his own shoe to confirm that they're not identical (and also to reveal this to the viewer). seems his stoicism beat off the clarity in this one, sorry 😭

[winn-wynn]

I still wonder how Percy reacted to finding out Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew

[xxplastic-cubexx]

PROFESSOR X MARVEL RIVALS ANNOUNCEMENT REAL ???? ON MY BIRTHDAY ???

[sayakxmi]

Saiouma Puella Magi AU, but Kokichi takes Madoka's role and Shuichi takes Homura's.

For one, Kokichi's too naturally distrustful to just hear "I can grant you any wish :)" and not think ok where's the hook. So he just does what no one ever has & essentially interrogates Kyubey, so he knows it all even before he gets to make a contract. So, some of his classmstes are MGs & he won't become one himself BUT he still ends up tagging along to just protect them in his Kokichi ways. (Though I'm entertaining Kokichi lying about being a magical girl, because, well, it's Kokichi).

(I also got a small idea of Gonta being a magical girls and Kokichi originally tagging along him into labyrinths, Gonta also makes him a magic gun from the toy one he had, and at some point witches out & Kokichi manages to kill him with that gun. So he always has that spare Grief Seed on himself, bc it's still his best friend & he can't handle the idea of just giving it away or using it himself (he does anyway in the end).)

Shuichi prolly ends up being a new kid & it isn't like MadoHomu, the ppl who reach him first are Kaede & Kaito, classic. Kokichi's there, too, but he's his usual sus self. He's actually discouraging ppl from making a contract when they find out magic and miracles are real, which absolutely includes Shuichi. He's very vocal abt it, but he won't explain stutf, bc 1) he's a liar, so who'd believe him? and 2) he doesn't want them to witch out upon finding out the truth or, idk, murder everybody Mami-style.

Anyway, fast forward, bad things happen bingo & by the end of the run most charas are dead, there's Walpurgis nachting, and he makes his wish to bring back the ppl who died notably not as magical girls. Contract signed, he fights & fails, rip. I also thought it was similar to how he thought he could end the killing game by himself - he though he could finish Walpurgisnacht by himself, too. And he failed in both times. Whatevs.

Shuichi doesn't actually make his time travel wish for Ouma specifically, he wants to save all his friends. Timelines are messy esp at first bc he either tells then or it backfires or just makes himself look very sus bc he's trying not to tell them. He also realizes why Kokichi hadn't told anybody aby witches at some point, bc, yeah, it messes them a lot, assuming they believe it.

Still, Kokichi ends up one of the few people who are nearly always giving him a chance, not necessarily out of belief, but out of pragmatism - bro can stop time & knows the truth, that's just too useful. So they often work together & Shuichi grows closer to him but still we ain't there yet. But the thing is, Shuichi's time travel still makes Kokichi more & more powerful with each timeline, bc Shuichi usually goes back after Kokichi dies, so the universe figured out this guy's life's important. Anyway, another notable thing is the iconic Homura kills Madoka scene, but it's Saiouma with guest stars of Kaito & Maki. It's Walpy, it's not defeated yet, but the training trio are spent & just kinda accept their fate of turning into witches together. And then, boom, Kokichi appears & steals their Soul Gems for a sec & he's like did u know you can cleanse your Soul Gem with a darkened one? But it's a lie & he quickly tells them so, he just had a spare Grief Seed after cleansing his Soul Gem & he needs them to do some stuff. Shuichi can travel back in time & fix things, and Maki & Kaito are needed to fight Walpy here. He actually questions what happens to the timelines Shuichi leaves behin, and ofc he doesn't know. There's a chance they remain, so Kokichi needs Maki & Kaito to fight Walpy here.

Kaimaki leave, and Shuichi finally looks at Kokichi & realizes sth is Wrong. Kokichi struggles to hide how he's trembling & grimacing, and it's Kokichi, so obviously it must be extremely bad. Shuichi dreadfully realizes something worse, and he weakly asks Kokichi why aren't his wounds healing. And Kokichi just falls, laughing weakly, and Shuichi catches him & searches for his Soul Gem and, God, he knew it. It's nearly completely black. Kokichi laughs & admits he lied abt having two Grief Seeds, he only had one he never wanted to use. But they'll have the second one soon, so no need to worry. He asks Shuichi to maybe destroy his witch form as it's hatching, so he'll have the Grief Seed without any fighting… and he admits that he hates fighting, he hates this magical world and all its violence. He says that Kaito was right in calling him a coward, even here he just can't handle the idea of fighting any longer, he's so sorry. And Shuichi tells him he ISN'T a coward. He was scared, but he always followed everybody, trying to help, and when push came to shove he would always make a contract for the benefit of others rather than himself. He's a lot of things, but a coward isn't one. Kokichi actually tears up hearing that, and Shuichi promises he won't let him fight ever again, and especially he won't let him turn into a witch and hurt anybody, because he knows it's the last thing he's ever wanted. Even now he only accepts turning into a witch to help them fight to keep others safe. So Shuichi won't let him. Kokichi probably apologizes and thanks him and then he dies.

Keeping Kokichi from fighting starts off as a side quest that gains importance with time, bc it's something Shuichi won't compromise on (ah, trauma), which leads him to occassionally neglect others a bit, which makes them more likely to get hurt & ironically Kokichi more likely to make a contract, especially since he gets more powerful & Kyubey is more interested in him with each timeline. And that also makes him witch out super quick. Shuichi's paying more attention to him & over time grows resentful of others for how they're treating him. To Shuichi it's no question that Kokichi cares & is just doing his best to help, but nobody realizes that.

But the biggest obstacle in keeping Kokichi from fighting is actually Kokichi himself, bc he's too smart and nosy, lmao. Even if he knows nothing, he will find out quickly. Doesn't help that Kyubey wants him to make a contract.

Also, obviously Kaito is Sayaka-coded and Maki could be Kyouko-coded, so that's a thing, BUT it's usually Maki that witches out. Kaito is usually pretty close, but Kokichi intervenes & he survives, but Maki later cracks on her own (and since in the new timeline Kokichi isn't there, Kaito's the one to die, so he's still the secretary). So it's Kaito who gets the dramatic sacrifice. I imagine he genuinely hoped you could bring somebody back if you tried Very Hard & Kokichi called him a moron bc obviously it's not possible. If it was there'd be far less witches that there are. But it's Kaito, he doesn't listen to reason. So, Kokichi follows him to the labyrinth. At first Kaito's mad cuz what if Kokichi being there ruins the plan? Maki hates his guts! But eventually he gets hit pretty hard, and Kokichi is near immediately by his side, trying to help him get up, which kinda makes Kaito short circuit a little bc wait Kokichi's trying to help? But witch!Maki attacks them & Kokichi pushes Kaito away & gets caught himself (and choked until unconsciousness, naturally). Anyway, Kaito gets him away, Shuichi catches Kokichi & Kaito makes up his mind about going down with Maki & asks Shuichi to tell Kokichi that he's sorry. He doesn't get him, but he got hurt trying to protect him, so he'll believe in that if nothing else. F.

As for The WishTM, in the last timeline Shuichi lashes out at Kokichi for his willingness to just become part of the system. In no timeline has his wish actually helped, it did NOTHINHG, which OUCH but it also makes Kokichi think out of the box more & he becomes the Law of Cycles. And Shuichi realizes what is happening & freaks out bc Kokichi's doing it bc of what he told him & like Homura they end up having a momentTM in space & Shuichi remembers. He feels a lot of guilt even tho he also questions whether anything was real, but if it was, he pushed somebody he far too realized he loved into erasing himself from existence.

[sarellathesphinx]

Hey did you guys know Reeve is the one who had to tell Elmyra and Marlene that Aerith died in the original game. I think about this constantly

[legend-had-it]

theres two stray aus in my head that involve kuina

one where by some time travel bullshit she gets transported onto the sunny before her death and zoro has to cope with the fact that his dead best friend is back but only for a short amount of time and kuina keeps on bullying him older sister style,

the other where she Does die but she just haunts zoro throughout all of the op canon, since unfinished buisness and all that, zoros aware shes there and talks to her but is the only one that can see her. Eventually when they go to thriller bark some shenanigans happen and she can show herself to other people if she wanted

[mxdotpng]

the progression of events in this arc is so so good and great and i love how you can just clearly see where and how each characters thoughts begin and progress throughout each chapter as it goes on. while steven was probably set in stone about his view on how to handle the situation i earnestly believe zed and zapp set out to disobey steven's request. and then they make it very easy to understand leo's point of view and why hes doing what he is - its why they show us that flashback and don't tell anyone else, and why he speaks very little after zapp threatens him - and then immediately cuts to klaus, who knows absolutely nothing about the situation currently but he can figure it out just by looking at whats in front of him. and because klaus is so unflinching when it comes to upholding what he believes is morally right he does so without anyone needing to tell him whats going on. he sees this percieved 'monster' protecting someone else and immediately goes to protect it, too. and even though a lot of them disagreed with each other at the beginning there is still the scene afterwards where they all come together to try and catch each other when they begin falling. i think nightow should pay me for what its done to my mental health

[seventhdoctor]

Graduation photos, episodes 161 and 167