#let the parasite slowly take over you

[sandeewithtwoe]

What have you done. I always used to hate Fresh cuz I can't draw him.

W H Y A M I S U C C E S S F U L L Y D R A W I N G H I M .

YOU HAVE NOW GAINED THE POWER TO FINALLY SEE HOW MUCH FUN HE IS TO DRAW. YOU CANNOT UNDO THIS.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[oceantornadoo]

ch 1 of the wrong john: masterlist | next

john price x f!reader (johnny's twin)

--

You figure one whiskey in the fancy bar across from your hotel can’t hurt.

Johnny put you up in a nice hotel, considerate with all the travel and logistics it took to get here. Two days of your PTO gone, an almost-argument with the gate agent who lost your luggage, chasing down an AirTag with said luggage, and a very uncomfortable taxi ride. But it was fine. It was for Johnny.

Johnny: the brother, the twin, you hadn’t seen face-to-face in over a year. The one who got in a screaming match with your Catholic family last Christmas over who he can love. Nevermind the sacrifices he makes for the safety of the world, it’s where he puts his dick that matters to them. You told him it was bullshit and thus remained the only family member he contacts. You were worried for a second that he’d group you in with them, would sever your holy twin connection for it, but you should have remembered who you were thinking about. If anything, you’d do that to Johnny before he did it to you, a fact you both pretended did not exist. That scrappy self-awareness that somehow only you had been born with, mistaking protection with isolation. So when he said he had a slow week, said he had a partner (a boyfriend!) he wanted you to meet, you couldn’t say no. That was as good as siding with your family.

The meeting was tomorrow (“1000 sharp, m'eudail. Come t’ base an’ we’ll show ye around. Yer gonna love Simon, ‘es all claws like you.”) For the oddest reason, you were nervous. It wasn’t like Johnny needed his family’s approval, if anything, you needed to meet the approval of his found family. The one he created when he left, the one he was slowly opening to you like a secret garden. One sense of a parasite and the gate would be locked forever. He never said as much, too happy-go-lucky for that, but you could sense the protectiveness behind his words during glitchy monthly phone calls. “Price, Gaz, an’ there’s the L.T. Calls himself Ghost but ‘es more bark tha’ bite. You’ll see, m'eudail.” And so you ordered a whiskey to quell the nerves.

“Miss, a drink for you.” The bartender placed a gin and tonic down that was certainly not what you ordered. “I’m sorry, I wanted a whiskey? You can take this back, I haven’t touched it, I swear.” He shook his head, reaching down to grab a whiskey glass. “‘S from the gentleman on the corner. Told me to say our gin is better than our whiskey, which I disagree with, but whatever pays the tips.” He placed a glass of whiskey (on the rocks) in front of you. “Both are on the house, courtesy of your admirer. Let me know if ya need anything or he bothers you.” You nodded your thanks, glancing around for this mystery man. The bar wasn’t too packed but with a game of football on, there were more single men than not.

Finally, you felt a pair of eyes on you, sticking to the back of your head like honey. You turn and there he is, icy blue eyes and a lumberjack look, bearded in flannel. He’s broad and he knows it, carrying himself with the grace of self-confidence. To add to it, he’s sitting alone in a back corner table, perfect view of all exits (like how Johnny told you to look for one tipsy night eons ago.) When you catch his eyes, he raises a glass, giving you a glimpse of hands you want to examine. Are they soft or worn? What about his beard? You promised yourself a drink to settle you nerves, a bubble bath and lights out before 11, but he’s throwing a wrench into your plans. It feels like foreshadowing, to what you don’t know.

“Bit rude to tell the bartender you don’t like his whiskey. Doesn’t give a good first impression.” Somehow, your feet took you over to his table without your permission. You’re standing while he’s sitting and somehow you’re still tilting your head to meet his eyes. They’re darker than they were on first glance, swimming with something that sends a shiver down your spine. You purposefully take a sip of whiskey, your gin and tonic abandoned at the bar, to will that feeling away.

“Jus’ givin’ some advice to a pretty traveler. Can’t have y’ thinkin’ this part of London has no drinks f’ a woman like you.” You find a gray hair in his beard and track it to the curve of his lips as he speaks, taking in the small details you couldn’t see from the bar. Like the way his eyes crinkle in a world-weary manner or the gruffness of his tone, like he’s used to giving orders rather than initiating conversation. It’s your new mission to unpeel the layers of this man tonight.

“And how did you know I’m a traveler? Could be a local for all you know.” He snorts, and in any other man, the arrogance would put you off, but it’s somehow attractive on him. “Well, sweetheart, everyone’s payin’ attention t’ Arsenal playin’ an’ y’ve barely given ‘em a glance. And any local worth their salt knows the whiskey here is watered down an’ grimy.” You take a sip of your drink, again, to prove a point, biting back a grimace at the taste. You can’t let him win.

“Does that make you a local?” Gracefully, he ignores how you could barely swallow down the last drop in your cup. Instead of answering, he signals the bartender for two gin and tonics, then gestures at you to sit in the other seat at his table. His silent command, and consequential dismal of your question, pulls at a string in your belly you didn’t know existed. Perhaps it’s the whiskey.

“Nah, ‘v been around. Been in London for work a while an’ hav’ learned about whiskey choices the hard way. And you? Not from ‘ere, can tell by the accent.” You write that down in your imaginary notebook, hoping a whiskey enthusiast doesn’t equal a reliance on alcohol. You’re fast to determine red flags, especially with strangers. “From Scotland but haven’t been home in a while so the accent’s a bit over the place. What’s your work?”

He takes a sip of the newly arrived gin and tonic, savoring the taste with his tongue. It darts out to catch a drop the edge of his lip and you’re hit with visions of where else he could put it. God, you don’t even know his name yet. “Security consultant. Protectin’ whatever they pay me to protect. An’ you?” It’s a lie. His eyes don’t stray from your face but your bullshit-o-meter is ringing somewhere. You let him have it, deciding a lie for a lie is the best way to go.

“I’m interviewing with a company around here, so I’m currently in between jobs. But I trade in corporate bullshit.” He chuckles, smooth and low like good whiskey, and it’s enough that you forgive the lie, letting it gather dust in the back of your mind. “My name’s John, sweetheart. An’ yours?” You murmur it sweet and slow, fluttering your lashes to lock in the deal. It’s near 10 now, and you don’t want to be yawning when you meet Johnny tomorrow. You have a feeling the man in front of you could keep you up all night if you let him.

John pulls your chair into his until your thighs are slotted in between each other like puzzle pieces. “Got any plans tonight?” You shake your head no, pressing your leg into his own. The harsh denim of his jeans scrapes against your well-worn ones, reminding you of how rugged he seems. You want to see how untamed he can be, and your panties dampen at the thought.

“Well, John,” you overemphasize the last syllable of his name to make sure he’s paying attention. “My hotel is across the street if you need to expand your London knowledge. Really give you that local aura.” His thumb grazes your knee, stroking against the grain pattern. “Sounds good t’ me, sweetheart. Let’s give it a go.”

–

Few thoughts:

m'eudail - my darling, my dear

The base is on the outskirts of London but the hotel is in the city because I said so.

I don’t know anything about London football, Arsenal was the first team that showed up. Thanks google

This was all build up but the next chapter will have some smut! 

This is more for a plot based audience so here’s my AO3 if you’d like to subscribe

Comment if you want to be tagged 🙂

[suksatoru]

004. CARNATIONS

"Oh my."

You squint at the paper in your hands and try to decipher the words Touya had written on them with a wince. The letters were jumbled up—some of them didn't even resemble anything in the alphabet. The majority of the words you were able to understand were spelt wrong, and the proportion from one letter to the next was horrific.

"We'll work on your writing skills later this week, alright? But I'm proud you could get this much down! " You say with a smile as Touya snorts

"There's only one word I know I spelt right." He smirks, proudly pointing a finger to a sentence you'd missed towards the bottom of the page

Y/n L/n is beyutiful.

You laugh quietly as his smirk quickly transforms into a scowl. His poor attempt at flirting didn't really seem to work if you were laughing at him.

"Are you talking about how you wrote my name correctly? Because its spelling is clearly displayed on my name tag, Touya."

You can only laugh more at his grimace, folding the written paper in half before tucking it into his file folder to go over later.

"And thank you I suppose. Oh, I just wanted to let you know I won't be able to go on our walk today, Touya. I have a meeting with my supervisor. Would you like me to find another doctor for you to—"

"No. And what's the meeting about?"

You shake your head softly at his defiance before smiling

"You. You are my only patient, after all."

He smiles a little bit at those words.

The conversation slowly drifted to Touya giving you small snippets of the skills he had to learn after waking up all those years ago. By the end of the conversation though, his mood had fallen quite a bit. He didn't like talking about his past. The words were bitter on his tongue, but he forced them out for you. He wanted you to understand him—he needed you to.

"I couldn't understand what happened to me. I had so much shit going for me... so much potential. Then I went and fucked it all up. You know, I blamed him for how I turned out, but I think I was messed up from the start. Can't blame that piece of shit if I was born like this. Defected. " He mutters, his eyes hard as his nails dig into his palm.

Defected. He swears under his breath when he sees the blood trickling down his arm from clenching his fist too tightly. His gaze moves towards you when he feels your fingers press a soft cloth to his hand to soak up the blood. You clear your throat before speaking

"You're no defect."

"No one is. You had these terrible expectations set for you when you were so young. You can't possibly blame yourself for what happened! So many young children struggle with their quirk, and you weren't fortunate enough to get the help you deserved. That is not your fault—"

"But I could've been better. If I worked hard enough. Fuck, it might have all been my fault from the start!" He laughs hoarsely, and his eyes have a crazed look in them as he actually considers the possibility with furrowed brows

"But—"

"Maybe if I had just—"

"Touya!"

Your voice is strained. You're trying so hard not to let him hear the tremble in your voice, but the way his shoulders slump lets you know he had caught it. He looks away, his lips set in a firm line as his eyes harden

"I don't want to talk about this." He mutters. Every muscle in his body was tense as a feeling of unease settled over him.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm being too pushy about this." You sigh, frowning as you lean back in your seat. You were his doctor, you can't be the one having an emotional crisis! You were meant to be his emotional support, and the guilt you feel gnaws at you like a parasite.

He lets out a long sigh, shifting on the bed uncomfortably as you take a deep breath

"Okay—alright, we can talk about something else. Is there anything besides this on your mind? Maybe we could—"

"Can I be alone for a bit? Can you, just, leave?"

The look on your face is like a slap to his face. He bites his tongue from saying anything he'd regret as your eyes fill with a mix of something between sadness and disappointment.

"Yes—yes of course. Uhm, would you still like to eat dinner together tonight?"

"I just need some time alone. My head hurts. It's my fault, it's never yours. Just... yeah, yeah you can come later." He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as his guilt finally settles in

"...Okay."

Your whisper is the last thing he hears before the door to his room clicks close, and when he lifts his head from his palms—he's alone.

Touya doesn't know if he'll ever be able to face his family again.

He thought he couldn't feel anything anymore. The pain he'd once felt was immeasurable, something uncontainable to the point where he'd grown numb and accustomed to it. But now he felt all sorts of things he didn't understand. You made him feel again. He wasn't sure if he should curse you out or thank you for it.

Your long awaited return came after almost two hours, his dinner tray in hand as you carefully placed the steaming rice bowl in front of him. You stand beside his bed with an awkward smile, your hands behind your back as you speak a quiet hi.

He tugs on your sleeve, pulling you down so you were seated on your chair. A quiet squeak leaves the back of your throat when he tucks a single hand under your thigh, dragging your chair closer to him easily with little effort. Your eyes are wide from the new proximity as he turns back to his food, acting like nothing had happened.

You're speechless for a moment, swallowing the lump in your throat as he begins his dinner. He points to your bowl with his chopsticks, gently nudging it towards you

"You hungry?"

He had broken the ice so easily—and you both fell back into your usual routine. An unspoken 'it's ok' was what he'd said as he handed you your bowl. You blow on the hot rice with a small smile as he begins questioning you about your meeting, asking whether or not you said good things about him.

You shouldn't like this so much.

Your chin is resting on your knees, you laugh as Touya tells you tales about the League. They were a unique group—but knowing Touya wasn't completely alone during his time as 'Dabi' makes your heart feel a little lighter.

He speaks about the League as if they were still here. Fondly.

Your eyes catch onto the clock on his bedside, the block letters on them reading 11:32 PM. Your time with him had passed faster than you wished—and he watches you stretch before you stand

"Time for you to turn in for the night, mister." You smile with a yawn. He frowns a bit as he glances at the clock, watching you reach over and grab the empty bowls from dinner.

"I'll take this down to the kitchen. You wash up while I'm gone, all right?" You smile, holding the tray in your hands as Touya nods slowly, not giving you a verbal response.

When the door closes, he gets off of the bed with a quiet sigh. Even after splashing his face with freezing water—his heart still hurts.

You were making him feel a little too much.

His mind keeps trailing back to your soft giggles and the way your professional face falls with the stupidly silly stories he tells you of the League.

He wonders if they'd be happy for him.

Touya hears your approaching footsteps as he's exiting the bathroom, and quickly opens the main room door for you.

You look surprised when the door opens before you can even get your keys out. You have to crane your head up a bit to meet his eyes—which are watching you intently.

Sometimes you forget how Touya's much taller than you are. He's usually at eye level with you when he's sitting in the hospital bed—but as he stands in front of the open door, your lips part a bit from the way he looms over you.

He silently moves over a bit to give you space to enter before closing the door behind you. You send him a small smile before tilting your head towards his bed

"I'll check your heart rate before I leave tonight. That's ok with you, right?"

Your eyes are pretty. Touya thinks if he ever has a staring competition with you, he'd win for sure. He likes staring at you especially when you're unaware. There's something about just knowing you exist that calms him. He likes seeing you smile, he likes hearing you talk—he especially loves that you seem to enjoy his company. He didn't think of himself as someone enjoyable to be around, but he feels wanted around you.

Touya's never felt wanted before. You were so refreshing to simply be around—he'd be perfectly content with living the rest of his life with only you. He didn't need or want anyone else.

"Yeah. That's fine with me."

Touya waits for you on the edge of his bed, his eyes trailing on you quietly as you wrap a stethoscope around your neck. The cold metal is pressed against his chest, and he realizes you've never been this close to him before.

"Touya, your heartbeat is a little faster than it should be." You frown, leaning in closer as he stays absolutely silent—he's been holding his breath since the moment you pressed the stethoscope to his skin

He's staring at you, and his heart only beats faster when you turn to meet his gaze.

No. Your eyes are beautiful.

He abruptly flicks off the lamp on his bedside table, which was the only source of light in the dark room before immediately laying himself down on the bed—his heart was pounding now.

"I'm fine."

He can already imagine your lips forming that adorable 'O' you make when you're startled, and he rests his forearm against his eyes before letting out a steadying breath.

"Oh! Well, are you sure Touya? Your vitals this morning were fine, so—"

"Y/n."

Your silence, for once, is a welcomed thing. Touya's face was burning—every fiber of his being was. He didn't think he'd be able to go another second listening to your wonderful voice utter another damned word.

You whisper a quiet goodnight before leaving.

He stares up at the ceiling, the glowing stars almost mocking him as he sighs

"Goodnight."

You've already left the room, but he whispers the word anyway.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n~ i was listening to taylor swift on repeat while writing this... safe to say she is my fuel when it comes to writing for carnations heh. AND WOWW SO MANY ON THE TAGLIST?! u guys are now my children i've chosen to adopt you all!!! it's getting a little hard to keep track of but i got this 🫡

@kelin-is-writing

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@bbluefllame @summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @marsoverthestars @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @shugs1801 @imaginationmess @lasa27 @sophiathefrog

@etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo @hvnares @ephmeraloblivion

@lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006 @jesuschrist2006

@dabislittlemouse (i got u B!!)

[neuvilette-tea-party]

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎ Il faut être deux... Part 1 ❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Steb x F!reader

You get home, excited to visit the Montains like you are sure Steb does each year for his leave! But when you discover your lover, you realize you're going to climb something different...

Tags: Some fish anatomy quirks, established relationship, heavy making out, pining, sexual tension, caresses, mating season (yeah, I'm going that route, sue me!), Steb is selectively non-verbal and that never prevented him from asking/respecting consent, lovey-dovey

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You sigh entering your little house, unclipping your helmet. You throw the house keys in the bowl and put your helmet next to Steb’s who did not move an inch the entire day. 

You plan your leaves whenever you feel like it, but Steb goes like clockwork and always takes two weeks of leave at the same time of year. Everyone at the barracks knows that those two weeks are his and he will not leave them to anyone else no matter their arguments or urgencies.  

He goes completely no-contact and vanishes without a single trace. 

What does he do during those two weeks? Beats you! He does not speak, and especially not about that. The first year under his tutelage you got to his home for a friendly chat, trying to break the ice with your mentor, but you found his house completely locked, shutters closed and mail piling up in the mailbox. 

Your best guess is that he goes to the mountain to bathe in the rivers and lacs of fresh, pure water to soothe his scales bruised by the water of Piltover soiled with chemicals. 

But now that you live together, you will discover his little secret! You have already put some clothes discreetly on the side for packing. When you got home a minute ago, the shudders of the second floor were already closed, just an inch ajar to let pass a thin ray of sun for you to finish packaging this evening and then swiftly jump into a train, to the Mountains you go! 

You turn your head as you open your boots, hearing piano music from the living room. Steb must be playing.  

You smile to yourself, taking off your boots. You love listening to Steb’s music, you could spend hours doing nothing but listening and watching him play his electronic piano. You always wanted to learn music and Steb patiently teaches you short simple melodies that you play on repeat until you can’t bear a single more note. 

Steb doesn’t mind it, he appreciates the waves and vibrations of music with his sensible Vastaya ears, apparently, it feels pretty close to sounds underwater for him, helping him relax after a long day.   

“Hi, Steb!” You chant entering the living room as you take off your harness holster, “I managed to take one week’s leave matching yours!” You announce your little surprise. 

You stagger as you hear Steb slams his hands on the key brutally. You turn to him to see him, his back turned to you, frozen still, shirtless, his large shoulder moving up and down like after an intended exercise. 

“Steb?” You ask gently, cautiously approaching the Aquatic Vastaya.  

You frown. What the...? 

You get closer, squinting. 

Is that...? 

“Oh my goodness, Steb! Are you all right?!” You shout. 

You grab his shoulder to make him turn towards you. Red scales all over! Steb’s deep green stripes are now invaded with a deep red shade, the same for the tip of his fins and ears. You’re no aquatic Vastaya expert, but a sudden change of scale color patterns cannot be a good sign. 

Steb looks at you with eyes rounded in surprise, cheek rosy, and with a feverish gaze. 

“Are you sick?! Since when?! Did you go to the hospital?! Did you visit a physician?!” You drown him questions as he slowly gets up, grabbing your hand in his. 

You detail his chest, covered in sweat and new red scales, parasitizing his lovely green stripes. His chest rises up and down deeply and when you raise your gaze to look into his ocean eyes, you discover them febrile and dark. 

“Oh Steb... Are you all right?” You beg.  

Steb details you, remaining silent, slightly disheveled, his cheek fins waving repeatedly. His gaze lowers slightly to your lips and he licks his teeth. He raises your hand to his mouth and reverently kisses your fingertips and your palm, closing his eyes as a purr starts resonating in his chest. 

“...Steb? I am worried for you!” You insist, voice cracking in fear for your lover. 

Color change so swiftly is surely the prelude to a blood disease or even an organ failure... You know he pushes himself so much! Never allows others to see when he is tired or in pain, preferring to suck it up for his team’s benefit, but now it catches up with him! 

You try to resonate with him but he looks... out of here, like in some sort of daze. 

His large hand sneaks around your lower back and pulls you close to him, pressing his forehead against yours, purring deeply. You try to control your breath as he only blinks with his third eyelids,  his attention solely on you. 

He starts to cradle you, swaying your hips together gently, intertwining your fingers together. He brushes the tips of your noses together as he slowly dances with you in your small living room. 

“Steb... Is that an illness?” You ask, recovering your calm to think logically. 

He slowly shakes his head, blue eyes dead focused in your eyes. 

“Should I be worried?” His eyes lower down to a corner as he thinks, before returning to yours and shrug, his purr deepening. 

You gulp and nod, rationalising the situation. 

“Can I know what this is all about now?” You put your hand on his pec, strangely warm to the touch and vibrating with the purr. 

He takes a fistful of your hair and kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand in his. He lowers himself to kiss the tip of your nose tenderly and he releases your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your lower lips fondly, parting them just a bit. 

This is his usual move to ask for a kiss.  

Patiently waiting for your consent, devouring you with his blue eyes. 

You gulp, feeling his heartbeat against your palm, beating rapidly but steadily in his ribcage. 

He releases your cheek to take your chin between two fingers, still playing with your lower lip, and tilts your head as he brushes your nose tips together again, his lips hovering tantalizingly over yours, teasing you as you think he will close the gap several time, feeling his breath on your lips. 

But he remains patient. 

Simply toying with you, but never trespassing the limit without a clear ‘Yes’. 

His eyes are dark, a storm rages on inside of them, but an emotion pierces the fog. 

Imploration 

Despair 

Begging... 

You never saw him in such a state... 

You weakly nod once and close your eyes. Maybe acceding to his demand will relieve him a bit... 

He releases your hand to circle your hips and press them hard against his loins as you feel the ghost of his lips on yours.  

As to taste the water he leaves a single, trembling peck on your lips. 

Then another 

And another 

And one more  

Soon enough he is devouring your lips, giving demanding kisses, licking your lips to earn access. You open your mouth for him and his tongue enters, hugging and dancing with yours like a first time. 

He kisses you deep like he never did before, robbing you both of your oxygen. He bites down your lip with a growl as he pushes you until the back of your knees hits the sofa, unbalancing you and you fall with a yelp of surprise. 

Steb follows you easily, never letting go of your lips, you feel his weight pining you down the sofa, keeping you caged under him as his hands explore your back freely.  

You grab his side, his shoulders, his arms, his cheeks... You have no idea what to do with yourself when he treats you in such a way... 

You try to breathe in those demanding attentions while he lets escape a deep, rumbling sound between a purr and a growl, coming from the very depths of his chest. You start feeling dizzy, you have never been kissed like that by anyone, especially by Steb who prefers delicate touches and soft little attentions as he is a tender soul himself... 

Your ears are full of your gasps and pants and his subtle growl, your nose is invaded by his natural salty musk, getting straight into your head and making your heart palpitate even harder! His ears shake, and all his fins are coursed by a shudder, making him hiss. 

You take an immense breath when he finally lets go of your lips, a string of saliva connecting you together. He observes you panting, caressing your cheek with his knuckles so delicately. He reverently kisses your forehead once more before kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, and then taking a big lap with the flat of his long tongue on the entire length of your exposed throat. 

You lower your gaze as you feel Steb pulling on your jacket. He is looking at you while fiddling with the buttons, awaiting your go. 

You feel a fire in your cheeks and one starting between your legs. He never was so forward and demanding. Steb likes to take things slow for both of your comfort. 

He likes taking his time, appreciating each little step of the way...  

You just started exploring each other’s body after moving in together and if at first you felt frustrated it took so long to move things on, you started to get used to it, and even appreciated his method, reveling in the simple little things with delight. 

And now he is the one being impatient, confusing you in your newfound pace! 

The thought of stopping everything to get a straightforward answer crosses your mind, but you only have to dive into the agitated waters of his eyes to know. 

He had to hide from everyone in the dark each year, dealing with that storm all alone, without the warmth of a lover or a friendly shoulder that could understand his turmoil without judging him.  

Him always so composed, irreproachable, so well put together... 

What would they say if they ever saw him in such a state? Like an animal? 

They already have so little respect for non-humans... 

You cup his cheek tenderly, tracing the quivering gills on his jaws with the tip of your fingers and all his fins and ears tremble terribly instantly as he grits his teeth. You do it again and he exhales deeply, brushing his cheek In your hand with a relieved expression. Instinctively, you bite down the tip of his ear, licking the frills teasingly and you feel his grip tightening around you with a deep rumble, threatening to tear your clothes apart entirely. 

You release his ear, your hand cupping his cheek lowering down to the gills on his throat, and start caressing them as he captures your lips again, opening your jacket’s button expertly with one hand, your tongues entangled in a sensual embrace. 

He opens your jacket rapidly and opens your blouse a bit, just enough to create a cleavage that he tenderly kisses, before pressing his ear to your sternum and closing his eyes. 

Savoring your heartbeat while hugging you tight. 

You circle his shoulders and kiss the top if his head, diving your nose in his green strands.  

Steb did not close the shudder of the first floor, letting the sun’s rays bathing the living room illuminate his large back, making his red scales shine like they were real flames. You admire his powerful muscles rolling under his skin, creating waves of light on his scales, hypnotizing you entirely. 

He is absolutely stunning with theses shiny shades of red and green. 

You caress his hair as he deeply inhales, nudging his face between your bosoms, listening to the melody of your heart as you feel his finger digging into your flesh. He rolls his shoulders, agitated but evidently trying to control himself the best he can. 

You close your legs to hug him tight inadvertently putting pressure on his groin, which you now realize is really warm despite his pants and considerably swollen, making him hiss in response, his cheek scales shaking in tandem with the sound. 

Everything comes to a halt as Steb curls into your embrace, tightening his grip on you while you press your smaller body against his on the small sofa of your home. 

For a fleeting instant, both of your hearts beat at the same rhythm, like a single being. 

“I love you, Steb...” You confess, inhaling his salty scent deep into your lungs as you caress the top of his beautiful head, “You are my everything.” 

His purr peaks to higher notes at your words and he spins his head to reverently kiss your sternum again, soft pecks like butterfly wings, going higher and higher until he reaches the crook of your neck and he bites down the sensitive skin, nibbling it between his teeth, sucking on it, making you gasp. 

He parts from you, brushing his lovebite you feel flourishing on your skin. A chance you are on leave, you would have difficulties explaining this one to your colleagues. 

Steb tightly smiles, satisfied with what he sees on your delicate skin. You purse your lips and lunge forward to bite down his own neck, paying him back in his own coins. He lets out an audible gasp of surprise and a long moan as you suck the crook of his neck, holding the back of your head to keep you there. 

You part from him spitting little scales off your tongues, trying to scrub them off with your fingers, prompting him to chuckle, thoroughly amused by your demeanor, as he loudly purrs. You look up at him, leaning domineeringly over you, but his eyes spill love and adoration. 

”Mon amour...” He whispers like a secret, for your ears only. 

You nudge your noses 

But the storm still rages on in his ocean eyes... and between your legs. 

He looks into your eyes as one of his hands takes a handful of your thigh, slowly slipping under the fabric of your skirt, asking a silent, fated question  

You circle his shoulders and hips, locking him in your embrace and peck his nose, and extra sensible part of his face, like all aquatic Vastaya, and his purr skips a bit, like a hiccup. 

“Take me to our bedroom, Steb...” 

He reverently kisses your lips and lifts you up from the sofa, easily carrying you up the stairs toward your bed, both hearts palpitating in anticipation... 

[arminsumi]

PRIEST GETO

GETO すぐる + fem!reader

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains 18+ content, smut/erotica, religious themes, sacrilegious themes, solo m*sturbation, unprotected sex, creampies, virgin!Geto, not proofread

Priest!Geto has just one conversation with you, and immediately thinks to himself, "You're gonna be the reason I go to hell."

Priest!Geto's narrow eyes catch on your curves and he feels something click in his brain, then he quickly looks away as if singed by his sinful desires.

Priest!Geto is so taken aback when you outright tell him that you're sexually attracted to him. "Oh... well... I'm sorry I can't reciprocate the feeling... you know why." he tries to sound indifferent, but there's a heat rising up his neck.

Priest!Geto has to hook a finger on his clerical collar to tug at it when he sees you sitting in the pews. Your presence is so strong to him.

Priest!Geto is violently shaken up when you accidentally touch him. You once sat next to him, pressing your thigh to his more muscular thigh, and he could barely think, his brain malfunctioned like he was simply a 19 yr old college boy in need of pussy. You're so soft, you're so soft, you're so fucking soft and perfect he hates it with his soul. He just wants to know what it feels like to sink his pure fingers into the flesh of a creature as sinful as you.

Priest!Geto tries so hard not to think unholy thoughts of you, he clutches his rosary tight in his veiny hands and kneels at his bed every night, praying... but then you enter his mind like a beautiful little parasite and then he feels his cock sitting upright; stiff and leaky and begging for something soft to lay inside. He tells himself "Just once can't hurt..." and jerks himself nervously to the idea of you taking his cock in your sinning hands... sinning mouth... slutty sinning pussy... aw, he cums so hard he shakes and can't catch his breath. His cum is so thick, spurting out his curved cock, decorating his lower abdomen and trail of hair down there.

Priest!Geto inhales sharply when you stand too close next to him, like the proximity offends his whole body; his hands are folded neatly over his crotch as he tries to conceal the outline of his cock as it starts pronouncing itself through his pants.

Priest!Geto loathes the days you don't visit the church or come to enjoy lunch with your friend. He sits there, bored by dull conversations that he shouldn't be bored by, and pokes at his meal... the only thing that's appetizing to him is you, your company, your disrespectful flirting, your unexpected little remarks.

Priest!Geto to you is a steadfast believer, calm and unaffected by your provocations. But you see cracks in his demeanor; how he shifts uncomfortably when you talk to him in that soft voice, how he has to clear his throat before responding, how he zones out after you say something suggestive as if he's contemplating pouncing on you and sticking his tongue in your mouth.

Priest!Geto goes straight into denial about aching for your lips around his cock, even though he's having wet dreams about it. Some mornings he wakes from a dream of you sucking on his thick cock, and he looks up at the ceiling and groans... because he came against his thigh in his sleep... a gooey sticky sinful mess.

Priest!Geto is convinced that God sent you to him to test his discipline... and he knows he's fucked. He hates tying his hands behind his back. Do you know how badly those hands want to nest in your hair and pull on it while he stuffs you up?

Priest!Geto slowly feels his discipline weakening the more he's exposed to you and your charms.

Priest!Geto freezes up when you kiss him one day when you're alone together. "We can't do that..." he's breathlessly talking, hands grabbing your arms to pry you off of him... oh god how is he breathless over one kiss? His hands start shaking when you kiss him again. "F-fuck... we really can't do this..." he's moaning in no time, even whimpering and closing his eyes, letting himself get engulfed in dirty pleasure while you explore his body with your lips.

Priest!Geto whimpers from oversensitivity when he sinks his fat cock into you, telling himself that losing his virginity to a slut like you is forgivable... oh and his animalistic thrusts? Those are forgivable too. And the way he looks at you, like he's consumed by lust? That's also forgivable.

Priest!Geto crawls back to you for more after that, but at the same time pushes you away. He's a conflicted man. But when he's balls deep draining himself in your pussy, calling you a "bad girl" and a "sinner", he's a simple man.

Priest!Geto moans "sin for me, darling..." while cumming so deep inside that not a single drop of his sticky seed drips out. He leaves your pussy a sloppy, gushing mess.

Priest!Geto feels a rush, a dizzying and lustful rush, when you look at him during mass now; your little wink and lick of your lips makes him stutter throughout the passage he's reciting.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[huicitawrites]

Patiently Craving 

Yandere! Sukuna x Reader 

warnings: major jjk spoilers (non/manga readers, or manga readers not up to date), assault, yandere behaviour

word count: 4k

It has been a long, arduous, night of study- you and Yuuji stayed up past twelve to finish a history group work. Jujutsu history homework was no easy task, for there were various curses, clans, battles, cursed techniques, and objects to recall. Still, the two of you managed to push through with the blessed help of some energy drinks and snacks. 

Yuuji sighed as he carried over a blanket to your form that was passed out on the couch. The pink-haired boy felt a little bit guilty; he should be the one sleeping on the couch. It was common courtesy that he should lend you his bed if you were staying over at his dorm. 

But you insisted, and ever so persistent, Yuuji could not get past you. So now here he was, gently placing down a blanket over your form to keep you warm. 

The blanket was slowly descending when it happened again. 

For just a second, an extremely dangerous second, Yuuji’s body shook. His face contorted uncontrollably, his eyebrows trembled, and a wicked grin plastered itself. Out of his own bodily command, Yuuji’s eyes widened and the hidden eyelids in his cheekbones popped open. 

The monster threatened to come out. 

But then, Itadori Yuuji’s contained him, again. 

Yuuji’s hand had tossed the blanket. He bent over to pick it up. His lips were tight against each other and he flared his nostrils to get a good breath of air. He opened his mouth wide and as he exhaled, he tried to let his body loose and ignore the stiffness of his muscles. He settled the blanket on you, and this time, he was hesitant to touch your body or get any closer. 

His face showed despair and signs of concern, and his heartbeat fast and climbed in his throat. 

He was afraid, but he better not show, not let the monster know. Yet Yuuji knew of such to be naive, for the curse is one with his body, a parasite- and Yuuji is his vessel. 

“Don’t be a fool.” A voice, deep, rumbly, and cunning spoke. Its words laced with the venom of mockery as a soft, condensing, chuckle vibrated after. 

A voice, a tone, Yuuji was familiar with. The one he despised the most, Sukuna Ryomen. 

He glares down with his four eyes from the comfort of his skull-throne, a tall phantom tori-gate framing his body and painting him in a royal manner- The King of Curses, of course. 

Itadori clicked his tongue and blew air against his lips his eyebrows, furrowed, and with much annoyance he faced his enemy forth. 

“What do you want, Sukuna?” 

He is not scared to say his name, if anything, he is tired of saying it. He spits it out without any hint of respect, the King's antics have grown old and bothersome on him. Sukuna’s grin twists into a cheshire smile and he scrutinizes Yuuji with his hellish crimson irises. 

“You know well what I want,” His head cocks to the side and lands on his clawed palm, the other set of fingers tapping rhythmically on the throne’s armrest. 

Usually, Yuuji tries to keep his cool. The pink-haired boy is aware of the manipulative tactics and shenanigans of the curse, so he knows better than to give in and be played by his words to physically maintain him at bay. 

Albeit, this is not the case, not when it is about the life of a friend. More so when it is about his unexpected and inexplicable obsession, he has with you. Yuuji does not know how or why, but you have caught the eye of Sukuna. 

“Fuck you,” Yuuji spat at him, and Sukuna simply laughed, “I will never let you, ever.” Yuuji looked up at him to challenge him, meeting his piercing stare with one of his own dark eyes. 

Sukuna’s cheeks puffed, only to explode into wild laughter. Yuuji simply stand still, tall, and straight- unfazed. He must not lose his cool, not let him grasp the reigns. 

He must not take over, not with you here so close and vulnerable. 

Surely, people have priorly done this- the feat of impressing the King. Gojo, who is the strongest and Sukuna's biggest threat, and Megumi for some reason Yuuji has not yet deciphered. In any case, it is their power and potential that beckons Sukuna, and which made them appear worthy, he guessed.  

With you- it is completely different. You are not a particularly strong sorcerer; you are at the same level as him and Kugisaki. You also lack any inherited technique. heavenly pact or extraordinary mumbo-jumbo from the jujutsu world. 

And yet- you caught his interest. Somehow, your presence grew on Sukuna. At first Yuuji did not notice, for it was subtle. Like a little gut-feeling whenever he was around you, like he could suddenly feel Sukuna paying attention and listening with keen ears, 

After a while, it became more obvious, but not obvious enough. If Yuuji happened to walk away from you, be it because he was heading somewhere else or something, his body protested. His legs became a bit heavier, and his torso and shoulders tried slightly to twist in your direction. Even further- Sukuna's mouth began to pop out randomly but in your presence. Sometimes, the curse would tease you or mock you, or smile wickedly at you- all which made Yuuji apologize profusely. 

The last, most prominent, bright red flag which slapped Yuuji into the implications of Sukuna's undivided attention occurred in a mission two months ago. The four of you had been sent to exterminate a couple of small grade curses, and unfortunately the lot of you miscalculated the situation. A special-grade curse, a cursed womb to be precise, rose within the shadows and overwhelmed the team. Yuuji was out of breath, Kugisaki had only a few nails left and Fushiguro had already spent more than half his arsenal, and you were far from them, snatched by the throat by the curse. You were passing out on its claws as you thrashed through your last breath. Yuuji recalls vividly how your writhing form made the curse inside of him snap.  

Itadori was surprised to find himself detached from his body as he watched from a spectator's standpoint. His body launched at top velocity and obliterated the curse with one swipe of his hand. Merciless, unbound, and wild- yet delicate when he held you. This had never happened before, Sukuna would never help someone else, Yuuji was testimony to that when Sukuna laughed cruelly alongside Mahito at Junpei's tragic predicament. 

But there you were, unharmed on his arms, passed out, and Yuuji swore he even felt Sukuna clutch you tighter. Heck, his clawed hand carefully caressed your face and nudged aside the hair strands. Oh, this was fucked up, he realized. So, he did what was entrusted to him, and regained control of his body. Kugisaki and Megumi observed with widened eyes and slacked jaws. The silence between the three of them was loud and spoke volumes. That day the three of them expressed their concerns to their teacher and decided to hide this incident from you- in their version of the tale, Yuuji saved you, which was half-the-truth in the least. 

After the incident that almost cost you your life, Sukuna got worse. He was unbearable and unashamed, the curse attempted to take over his body numerous times. Anytime, anywhere. In Jujutsu High, during missions, in the streets even. It was tiresome, but Yuuji would not budge. He even tried to distance himself from you, but your friendly self was too naive to notice.  

Each day, Yuuji fights to keep his body to himself and protect you, and Sukuna fights to break free and do whatever he wants with you, which terrified Yuuji. 

Yuuji didn't realize how close Sukuna got to him whilst he was lost in thought and memory, but realization had been too late by the time the Cursed King delivered a blow right to his gut. The two-eyed salmon haired coughed in pain and fell to the ground, and his counterpart used this opportunity window to press the sole of his foot on his face, harshly. Yuuji's skull resisted, and the palm of his hands went to both sides of his chest, but he couldn't pick himself a centimeter up. His face was flushed and rubbed onto the mysterious watery floor, and Sukuna chuckled devilishly. 

"Just what exactly do you plan to do to stop me? You cannot even pick yourself up, idiotic brat" The force pushing him into the floor got stronger, the foot twisted deeper into his cheek. Yuuji opened his mouth in any way he mustered, but before any words came out of his mouth, Sukuna fully stomped his feet and Yuuji sank into the water. 

He woke up on the tatami of his dorm in cold sweat and rushing heartbeat, a dry throat to top it all. '(Y/n)!', Yuuji snapped his head to glance at the coach. He stood up desperately, his legs stumbling, and he fell on the coach's armrest. His own eyes scanned your sleeping form; indeed, you were resting peacefully.  

Itadori Yuuji's body collapsed on itself slowly. He fell on his rear, and then tired on his back. He faced the plain ceiling. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. Once he gathered himself, Yuuji glanced out the window and distinguished the light and smooth colors of dawn.  

Fuck, it was late. 

Naturally, he sought out the clock hanging on his dorm wall and his hand came to his forehead, where it damped. He brought it up his hair before it slid down to cover his eyes, and a series of swear words and curses left his mouth in a hush manner. 

Time, he was running out of time. 

“Fushigoro?” 

Itadori Yuuji asked with a cracked voice. As an answer, he only received the distorted laughs of his friend, Megumi Fushigoro - no, of the curse possessing his friend, Ryomen Sukuna. 

‘Fuck, fuck! How could this be?!’ 

Both you and Yuuji stood frozen in place, shocked. The tables had turned drastically, never had you entertained the thought of Sukuna switching into another vessel, least of all Megumi. 

You took a quick glance at Yuuji. He looked heartbroken. Sukuna looked delighted, joyous, ecstatic. He ran his hands on his new hair, feeling the black locks of Fushigoro Megumi. 

“Stupid brat, you didn’t really think through our Binding Vow,” he blurted in between laughs, his voice alien to his body as the red eyes filled with mockery and disdain. 

“Die.” 

You saw Megumi, no, Sukuna, incoming, and you picked up your stance, you looked sideways to Yuuji, and - 

“Yuuji!!! Dodge!!!” You cried out for your friend, your arm desperately reaching for him, your body ready to sabotage its survival instincts to push him out of the way. 

But you were too slow, and he did not move a muscle. He just stood there and took the powerful blow. 

Eyes widened; you saw him spit out blood. With a single blow to the gut, Sukuna blasted Yuuji away, and his body crashed through several buildings, far from your sight.  

It is about damn, fucking time. That Itadori brat has had his use, and at this point, he was becoming more of a prison than a vessel. Although dumb, weak, and naive, that brat did only one thing right. 

He could restrain him. 

Every.single.fucking.time. 

Sukuna had tried more than a couple of times to catch you off guard. When you turned around, when you were too focused to notice your surroundings, when you stayed over to sleep at the brat's, when you were too weak and exhausted to fight, or simply anytime Ryomen Sukuna desired. 

And each single fucking time, the damn brat stopped him. 

But now, now that was a thing of the past. A nuisance he no longer had to deal with. Not as he had the body of Megumi Fushigoro under his control, and with a single punch to the gut, that weakling was done with. 

Sukuna laughed, his eyes wide and mad, his pupils dilated, and his toothy grin wicked. 

About. Damn. Fucking. Time. 

Horror painted a canvas on your face, and despair formed a pit in your chest, but despite it all, you managed to cast a spell. Even with a tight lump inside your throat, you brought your hands together in a seal - your last two fingers crossed each other and the first three touched each other. 

“Caladrius!” You conjured a white owl Shinigami big enough to carry you. You grasped its feathers to propel yourself upwards and climb it, but a tough arm grabbed you by the ankle. 

“Oh, no, you won’t.” 

He pulled you down, and you failed to resist his strength, but you were quick to command the owl to set off on its own. It was more important that it reached Yuuji, for his sake, yours, and Megumi’s - if he was still there, he had to be there, deep down. 

With the usurped body of your friend, his black hair thrown back out of his usual hairstyle and sinister signature tattoos invading his skin, the ‘borrowed’ arms went around your waist, and his sharp claws slightly tore the layers of your clothes, prodding at the skin below. 

“Do you like my new host, [Y/n]? I sure do; it feels refreshing,” The usurper said nonchalantly in your ear as you struggled against his frame. He chuckled at your struggle, finding it cutely futile if anything. 

Sukuna lowered his head into the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent. He was slow, painfully so, taking his sweet time in tormenting you. 

"So sweet," he whispered in your ear, but blood did not rush to your face nor taint the tips of your ears. No. That intimidating aura, that immeasurable amount of cursed energy so close to you. 

You froze. 

You could die here and now. 

Only when you felt a slim sensation up your neck, dangerously close to your jugular, did you wince. Snapping out of your shocked state, you began to thrash in his hold. 

Sukuna merely chuckled; you could feel his chest and abdomen rising and falling against your back. He laughed and laughed, baring his teeth and fangs, his four eyes brimming with joy. He dragged his maniacal display until it ended with a satisfactory sigh. His expression fell, his grin fell flat, and his eyes narrowed. 

“You don’t have any idea how much I wanted out from that Itadori brat." the King of Curses sighed. 

His arms began to snake around your waist, and his clawed hands grasped your skin. His sharp nails dragged tightly against your skin, leaving a thin reddish trail behind, but you were too focused on his words. “All this time I have been looking at you, woman, my woman. My future queen.” Such a passionate confession would leave anyone stuttering with a mad blush, but this was Ryomen Sukuna, the enemy of all enemies, the worst of curses, a threat to any living being - he couldn’t be serious, this just could not be real. 

This was madness. 

“You made friends with two weak and idiotic boys, did you know? But I must admit, at least that damn Itadori brat did quite the job in restraining me.” His nails began to feel tighter on your skin and were threatening to tear into you at any moment. 

“All this time, I’ve been craving you.” He parted his lips and brought out his tongue, lapping it all the way up your neck. Sukuna relished it - he could taste your fear, and he loved it. 

It was addicting. 

He continued, “Now, now [Y/N]. If I had to tell you something with all my years of experience, is that I do not like being bothered” The King of Curses could sense people coming, and while he normally enjoyed torturing and murdering his enemies, just for this time he would rather be left alone, with you. 

Utilizing the body of the Fushigoro boy, he moved his grasp from your waist and brought them together in a seal, in front of your abdomen - of course, silly, he would not let you go. 

"Nue," his deep voice vibrated against your ear, and a wave of cursed energy flooded the area. You shot up your head, and your jaw dropped. Megumi's bird Shinigami had turned into a colossal predator, at least four times its usual size, and it even developed a tail. With the flap of its wings, thunder and lightning surged, attacking the neighboring area around you and Sukuna. 

The sight of the beast made you snap out of your haste. You had to do something. Although you were powerless against this demon, Megumi was still there. He was being held prisoner in his own body, but he could break free. If you could just reach out to him, "Megumi! I know you are there! You can snap out of it, just like Yuuji! C'mon Megumi!" 

Naively, your eyes sought for eye-contact. Only to see the four red irises of Sukuna, his tattoos shifting along with the grin on his face. 

"Megumi? Really? He may be able to hear you, [Y/N], but I assure you, he's not coming back," Sukuna purred, his grip on you tightening. "Don’t make me jealous now, calling out another man’s name... I’d rather you call out mine." 

Desperation and fear surged through your veins, but you refused to give in to Sukuna's taunts. Summoning every ounce of courage, you had left, you clenched your fists and glared defiantly at him. 

"You're wrong! Megumi is strong, and he won't let you control him forever. I believe in him, and we will find a way to break your hold on him!" You retorted, determination shining in your [e/c] eyes. 

Sukuna's laughter filled the air, echoing around you like sinister bells of doom. "Oh, how amusing! Your faith in him is laughable. But I'll humor you, my dear [Y/N]. Let's see how long you can hold on to that hope before I make you mine entirely." 

As Sukuna's laughter subsided, you felt a surge of raw energy emanating from him. The air crackled with malevolence as Sukuna prepared to unleash his Nue’s full power. But before he could strike, an unexpected presence intervened. 

A figure emerged from the shadows, radiating a powerful aura that seemed to challenge even Sukuna's might. Itadori Yuuji, battered, bruised and with several cuts from the earlier blow, stood tall with a determined glint in his eyes. 

"Leave [Y/N] alone, Sukuna! This is between you and me," Yuuji declared, his voice steady despite the pain. 

Sukuna's lips curled into a sinister grin. "You still think you can stand up to me, boy? I'll enjoy tearing you apart, scum." 

Yuuji's resolve only strengthened. He clenched his fists and channeled every ounce of cursed energy he possessed. "I won't let you hurt [Y/N], and I won't let you get away with what you've done." 

Using another set of Megumi’s shikigamis, Sukuna conjured the monster serpent (now, a full, intimidating horned cobra) and it curled tight around you- rendering you immobile as it drained you of your cursed energy.

The battlefield crackled with tension as Sukuna and Yuuji faced each other, locked in an inevitable clash. Meanwhile, you struggled against the shikigami’s tailed hold, trying to summon every ounce of cursed energy within you to break free. The ground trembled beneath your feet as the battle commenced. 

It soon became clear that Yuuji was no match for Sukuna's overwhelming power. Despite his valiant efforts, Sukuna's strength and cunning proved to be too much to handle. With a single devastating attack, Yuuji was defeated, lying unconscious on the ground. 

“Yuuji!!!” You screamed and tears welled up in your eyes. 

Sukuna stood triumphantly over Yuuji's fallen form, a sinister grin stretching across his face. "Pathetic brat," he sneered, "You were never worthy of her attention. But now, she's all mine." 

Your heart pounded in your chest as you faced the monstrous curse before you. Sukuna's eyes bore into yours with an unsettling mix of possessiveness and desire. He took a step closer, and you could feel his cursed energy suffocating you. 

You clenched your fists, trying to muster the courage to stand up to him. "I'll never be yours, Sukuna," you retorted, your voice wavering and cracking but determined.  

Sukuna's grin widened, reveling in your resistance. "Oh, how delightful. The more you resist, the more enticing you become," he said, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey. With a chask of his fingers, the shikigami which held you vanished, and you fell on Sukuna’s arms. One of his clawed and tattooed hands reached out to grasp you by the chin, forcing you into eye-contact and squeezing your cheeks- bringing your lips forward. 

Your heart raced with fear, and Sukuna's grin only grew wider. His face inched closer, his breath ghosting over your skin. "My love," he whispered, his voice laced with a possessive edge. “I will not let you escape me. You are mine, [Y/N], and I will gladly be yours " he murmured, pulling you closer to him. Anticipating his actions, you focused your remaining strength in struggling against him. Regardless, Sukuna leaned in and succeeded in sealing his lips against yours.  

Ryomen Sukuna kissed you with a passion you would never expect, or experience- a profound hunger and impatience that had been finally sated. A tongue, thick, slimy, and intrusive that relentlessly claimed a pair of lips it had been craving for so long, a desire long fulfilled. 

His onslaught was merciless; he wanted more, but when he looked at your flushed face and shut eyes, and attention to your weakening fists against his chest, he chuckled against your lips and broke the kiss. You gasped for air and breathed frantically, as Sukuna admired the trail of saliva that bridged his lips to yours. 

"You are mine, [Y/N], and there's no escape. I have been waiting for so long; I have been so patient. I think it’s time I deserved my reward." 

His lips peppered and trailed up your neck, climbing across your jaw, past your lips and near your ear. He whispered, hungrily and husky “I’m just so hungry for you.” 

A/n: I’ve literally been trying to write this a LONG time ago, and finally broke through! I hope you like a normal dickhead sukuna that is a hard simp for darling. One more sukuna fic that I’ve been saving to go!

[slttygeto]

THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.

⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for

જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k

જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.

જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.

ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)

⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.

Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.

You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.

It’s because of me.

When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.

And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.

--

Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.

You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.

Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.

You were avoiding him.

“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Huh?”

“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.

“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.

“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.

You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.

“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.

“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”

“Did Satoru—“

“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.

“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.

“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.

“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.

“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.

“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.

“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”

“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.

“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.

“You’re being selfish.”

Selfish? You were being selfish?

You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.

“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.

“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.

“Baby, I didn’t—“

“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”

The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.

“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”

“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”

“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.

“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.

“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”

“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“

“No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.

“Suguru—“

“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”

“Stop.” your lips quivers.

“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”

“You’re being mean, Sugu.”  

Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.

“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.

“What?”

“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?

This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.

You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.

--

Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.

He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.

And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.

“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.

He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.

“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“

“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”

Some space… So you were considering the break.

“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“

“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.

“Okay… can I still text you?”

“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.

“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.

“We’ll be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”

“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.

“Take care, Sugu.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only His

Feyd-Rautha x Concubine!reader

Summary: A diplomat from Caladan wants to borrow you for the night. Feyd doesn't take that very well. Requested by @midnight-serendipity

Words: 2700

Notes: cursing, mentions of smut (a little), gore, blood, death, typos.

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Feyd breathed Hatred. 

He bled Hatred. 

When he killed, Hatred controlled his movements. Like a parasite in the brain, Hatred determined the thrust of his blade, how deep it sunk into an enemy’s gut, and the degree to which he twisted the weapon before pulling it from a soon-to-be lifeless body. 

He’d cultivated a bond with Hatred. There was a mutual understanding of one another, he thought. But as Feyd listens to the proposition from the man sitting his opposite, Hatred slowly becomes a stranger.

Turns out Hatred has a claiming side, a how-dare-you-look-at-what’s-mine side, and from that, Feyd realizes he never knew Hatred, not truly. Because this feeling—whatever it is—has revealed that Hatred is more potent than he initially believed.

“You want to what?” Feyd grits out through clenched teeth. 

“There’s no need to get upset,” the man chuckles; a diplomat from Caladan sent on behalf of Duke Atreides who came to Giedi Prime to reinforce treaties and trade agreements with the Baron. Others were sent from their respective planets, but he is by far much bolder than the rest when it comes to stepping out of bounds.

“I'd give you something in return,” Nolas—that’s his name. Feyd could barely care to remember—continues. “Whatever you like. I just want her for the night. Something to make the long trip here worthwhile and the trip back more bearable.”

“You think my concubine can be bought?”

“All concubines can be bought,” he says. “At the very least, borrowed.”

If so, then you are a concubine of untraditional nature. You are not shareable. You cannot be divvied up amongst the group so each may enjoy their slice; not as long as Feyd lives. And should he not live, for reasons foreseen or not, he long ago requested that your life be ended as well. That way you could be together. That way no man could ever have you. 

The thought of another’s hands on you sets fire to Feyd’s veins, threatening to burn his pale skin from the inside out. His heavy brow dips forward to darken the light hue of his irises. He stands and crosses the bridge between his seat and the one occupied by the older, pudgy man, looming over him to the point that Nolas must tilt his head back so their eyes can meet. 

“I will not be giving you mine,” Feyd growls. “Not for anything you could offer.”

Nolas huffs. “Now be reasonab–” 

Feyd fists his fingers into the collar of Nolas’s jacket, twisting tightly and yanking upward until Nolas chokes from the constricting fabric pressing into his windpipe. 

“Let me be perfectly clear,” Feyd spits, leaning forward. He opens his mouth to continue, but just as his next words are ready to leap from his tongue, something odd takes root in Nolas’s vile eyes. Odd, because it is not fear.

The bulk of Feyd’s skills lies in his ability to incite fear, whether through words, or battle, or presence, and with the exception of his uncle, fear has successfully struck the core of any soul who has crossed his path. Civilians, servants, his brother, his mother, even you have not been spared, but the man in his grasp is not cowering. He is not trembling. He is not soaking in the vulnerability of the position he is in where Feyd could snap his neck in a half-second. Instead, he holds the spearing gaze of the youngest Harkonnen. Matches it, even.

Feyd sinks his teeth into his boiling rage and forces it to overpower the shock that has slipped in. “You will not get within fifty feet of her. You talk to her, you surrender your tongue. You touch her, you lose a finger. You look at her, I’ll take an eye and it can sit alongside the rest of my trophies.”

A smirk touches Nolas’s face, practically undetectable before it is gone, and suddenly Feyd feels it. That loss of control. He feels Nolas penetrate his skull and weave spindly tendrils through his brain, poking and prodding for Feyd’s secrets. And then there’s a moment; a moment when Feyd nearly stumbles—the moment Nolas latches on to the one thing Feyd can not afford to have known by anyone other than himself. 

The smirk returns. “Of course, na-Baron,” oozes off of Nolas’s slimy tongue. “I wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the woman you love.”

With another half-twist, the collar tightens, blocking the blood from leaving Nolas’s face. He’s cherry red—or at least what Feyd imagines is cherry red based on your description—and he thinks with a few more turns of his fist, he could get Nolas’s head to pop right off his shoulders and tumble onto the floor. 

“What are you doing!” Rabban snaps, stomping toward the duo. He rams his hand against Feyd’s chest, but despite being forced back a step, he does not release the diplomat. He does not blink, fingers transmuting to steel as Rabban works to pry them open. “Uncle wants him alive for tonight!”

Feyd doesn’t care about tonight. He doesn’t care for some party announcing his uncle’s plans for the future. He does not care that this man, this worm, is considered a vital messenger. Send a fucking letter. 

Rabban whips out a small blade and slashes downward, nicking Feyd’s knuckles. It stings but livens the rush of his blood. His heart pounds harder, teeth gritting and cracking. 

“Feyd!”

Nolas’s eyes begin to redden, threadlike veins almost glowing. No air exits his nostrils and just as he finally wraps his hands around Feyd’s wrist, yanking and jerking to free himself, the tension in the fabric snaps. 

Nolas gasps for air, falling forward and revealing the clean slice down the back of his jacket collar. Feyd’s head turns to Rabban’s disgusted glare. 

His brother sheathes his knife. “You’d defy our uncle’s orders?”

Feyd glances back at Nolas, who has yet to recover, before spinning on his heel and leaving.

—

“Are you embarrassed of me?” you ask, your attention focused on the precise wrapping of bandage tape around Feyd’s knuckles as you sit beside him on the bed. “Is that why you don’t want me to go tonight?”

“Yes,” Feyd grumbles. No, his mind snaps back at him, and he huffs. 

Your arrival on Giedi Prime birthed a conscience within him—a conscience that exists solely for your sake—and because he often fucks up when it comes to you and your feelings, it never shuts up. You’re hurting her. Look at her. Do you not see that devastation? He does, and little pinpricks nip at the organ in his chest. 

You lightly nod as you mutter a pathetic, “Oh.”

With a hefty sigh, Feyd says, “It’s for your protection.” There! Better!

Fingers pause their work and your head shoots up to meet his eyes, a small smile curving your lips. 

“Oh,” you repeat. There’s a hint of excitement in your tone, a glint in your bright irises that causes Feyd’s cheeks to warm. 

You rip the used tape from the rest of the roll and set it aside, and then that smile disappears. “Wait, protection from what?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe if you’re not there tonight.”

You hum, and from that hum alone, Feyd knows exactly what’s running through your mind. 

“And my safety is very important to you, is it?” you ask, lifting the skirts of your dress so it doesn’t catch under your knees as you move to straddle his hips. 

Feyd rolls his eyes. His hands settle on your waist. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he mildly scolds. 

You lean into his body until he falls back onto the mattress, your chest pressed to his chest, your face hovering above his. 

“I don’t know,” you tease as your fingertip skims over his bottom lip. “I’m starting to think you might like me more than you let on.”

“Think what you want,” he says, turning his head to the side and severing the taut band connecting your gazes. 

You chuckle and grip his chin, demanding he look at you again. “Fine, I will,” you whisper before inching your lips closer until they ghost over his. “I think you like me.”

You give him another feather-dusting of a kiss but it’s not enough. Never enough. Feyd growls, burying his hand into the strands of your hair to hold your head still so he can claim your lips in the devouring manner he desires. 

When you moan, he wraps his arm snuggly around your waist. When you suck on his tongue, his cock flinches in his pants and he involuntarily thrusts upward between your spread legs. 

Your responsive yelp is a drug. Addicting. So different from the yelps he expected to receive from you after he’d chosen you as his concubine. He’d gone into the situation wanting any noise your delicate throat could make to be a product of the pain he intended to inflict upon you, but when he’d taken you that first night, that yelp was of pleasure. He’d hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you and was instantly overcome with a desperate need to hear it again and again and again. 

You pull your lips apart from his. Your gentle pants fan his face. He brushes your loose locks behind your ear. 

“Promise me you’ll stay in the room,” he says. 

“I promise.”

—

He’s gone. Feyd took his eyes off the bastard for one second, and now he’s gone. It’s not as if Nolas will be capable of finding you—he’s not familiar with the fortress’s layout enough to know which room you’re in and you swore you wouldn’t so much as peek through a crack in the door—but still, a sense of dread stiffens Feyd’s limbs. Nolas has no reason to be outside of this room. He has no reason to be doing anything but drinking his fill and mingling with the others of his station. And yet…

“Did you hear me, brother?” Rabban’s voice intrudes upon Feyd’s third scan of the room. He’s not here. He’s not fucking here. 

“Brother–”

“No,” Feyd snaps before descending the short staircase. 

He snakes through the crowd toward the main doors of the vast room. They’re wide, tall, loud when opened and closed, and it’s impossible Nolas could’ve snuck out without Feyd’s notice. 

“Where’s the Caladanian?” Feyd demands of the guards posted on either side of the door. 

“No one has attempted to leave, my Lord,” one says. 

Feyd’s brow pinches. The only remaining exit is a side door specifically designed to blend with the wall. The fortress is speckled with similar doors, all of which connect to an inner walkway that servants and guards use to get around the massive structure quickly when needed. 

“Come with me,” Feyd instructs, receiving a curt nod in return. 

Feyd’s body traces the wall until he reaches the door. He pushes it open and slips inside, the guard on his heels. The noise of the room fades with every step down the corridor and at each new unexpected sound, his head cocks, his ear reaching for the source. 

Then he hears it. 

“Your na-Baron offered you to me,” travels through the wall separating him from the paralleling hallway.

And then your sweet voice. “Offered? N-No, Feyd wouldn’t.”

You’re right there, right on the other side of the thin barrier, but he can’t reach you. You’re trying to remain calm but you’re scared, Feyd knows it, and as he starts to rush to the next closest door, he begs that you keep the bastard at bay just a little longer. 

Once he shoves through the door into the hall, your voice comes in much clearer, but all sight of you is blocked by Nolas’s breadth and height. 

“He wouldn’t give me away,” you say. 

Nolas chuckles. “He hasn’t, sweetheart. I’m simply borrowing you for a little.”

“That’s not—hey, don’t touch me!”

Feyd bursts into the embodiment of fury. Everything goes red. He feels red; he sees red; he tastes and smells and hears red. His vision pulses to his heartbeat’s rhythm. He craves the death of his enemy. To have blood coat his tastebuds. To absorb the scent of freshly drawn iron. 

Feyd’s ears pound with pressure and he worries it will muffle the beautiful screams of his victim, but to his great pleasure, as his blade is stuffed into a meaty back, the screams come in loud and clear in perfectly pitched notes that echo down the hall.

The body collapses, knees slamming into stone flooring.

“Feyd,” you whimper. 

“I told you to stay in our room,” he says lowly, not sparing you a glance as his knife momentarily leaves the body to reenter at the spot where neck meets shoulder. Blood sputters from lips, adorning your dress with a sprinkling of rubies.

“One of the servants said you needed me and I–”

“Take her back,” Feyd orders his guard. “Now.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Feyd!” you cry, tripping over your skirt as you struggle to keep pace with the guard dragging you around the corner. 

It’s better this way. If you’re gone, he can give his undivided attention to the paling body and the scarlet puddle spreading beneath it. 

“You don’t listen,” Feyd says, coming to the front of his victim who is impressively still sitting upright. 

There’s a whimper, another lovely song before Feyd pries open the mouth, digs between a row of teeth, and pinches the tongue with two fingers. He pulls it as far as it can be pulled and then lops it clean off with his knife. It lands on the floor with a wet slap. The fingers follow—all ten—amputated from now lifeless hands. And then the eyes, plucked free from the skull with ease. One of them rolls a fair distance after being tossed aside. The other he keeps.

Feyd steps back to stare upon death at its purest; a flawless display of cause and effect, of crime and punishment. 

“I told you what would happen,” he says. 

He doesn’t get a response. 

—

It’s late when Feyd returns to you. He spent the last few hours explaining his role in the ending of a diplomat’s life. He was careful with his words. He had to be. If his uncle knew he killed in defense of his concubine, it would introduce a plethora of complications. No one can know just how far he would go for his woman lest he put you further at risk and open himself up to manipulation. And he can’t have that. 

Feyd expels a relieved sigh at finding you tucked under the sheets. You’re on your side, a palm between your cheek and the pillow. 

He moves to take a seat on the edge of the mattress. As he runs his hand over your hair, your eyes open. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, and you nod. 

“A servant came to the room, said you needed me,” you tell him. “I was led to that man instead of you. I wasn’t trying to go against what you asked of me.”

“I know,” Feyd says. “The servant was paid. Someone witnessed the exchange.” He watches a flash of shock and pain travel across your irises. “He’s dead now. They both are.”

You swallow, biting into your lip as your eyes and mind briefly drift elsewhere. Feyd waits for you to come back, and once you do, you look up at him and nod in acceptance. 

“Will you come to bed now?” you ask. “Please? I can't sleep without you.”

“You were asleep when I came in.” Your head shakes. 

In all fairness, you haven't spent a single night apart since he got you, and he doesn’t view it as clinginess—it’s more his decision than yours—but rather an expression of how much you want him near. And he likes being wanted. It’s different. Foreign. Nice. The both of you need it. Tonight, perhaps, more than ever.

Feyd stands and peels off his layers of clothes, then goes to the other side of the bed to slide under the covers. You flip over, nestling yourself against him and resting your head on his bicep.

“I thought you didn't want me anymore,” you whisper. “I thought–”

---

“Don't think,” he says. “You're mine; you know that.” He presses a kiss to your hairline. “I don't share you.”

And may fate have mercy on anyone who suggests otherwise.

Tag List (if you wanna join)

[pyxxiestyxx]

Truth and Rumors

You didn't exactly plan on being your space station's liaison to the Affini Compact, but everyone in leadership had fled into the darkness of space hours before the plant's first ships jumped into position. Clearly someone had tipped the C-Suite off somehow; honestly, you couldn't blame them. Everything you had heard about the Compact was…rather terrifying, really. Behemoth plants with rows upon rows of teeth, infectious parasites ready to take over your mind, eternal servitude and endless labor with no pay…you shuddered at the rumors, at the stories. Perhaps worse was the actual propaganda produced by the plants; not that you or anyone else on the station was legally allowed to watch it, but even the few still frames that were shown to you had painted a grisly picture. The limp figure of some Terran Navy hero, cuddled and coddled by the hulking beast of a plant behind her. Apparently they had changed the soldier's gender, or something? The report accompanying the image was rather unclear for that particular detail. And now, here you were: sitting nervously in the largest conference room on the station, the lone Terran at a desk made for over thirty to sit at comfortably. When the Compact had hailed your station, you were one of the few working the comms station, and everyone else had either fainted, screamed, or panicked. Not that you were much better, but it was apparently enough that you were voluntold to answer it. The voice of the caller was…strange. Different, somehow. Calming, and yet thrilling. She introduced herself as Lady Violetta Larella, Fourteenth Bloom, she/her. Blushing, you apologized for not referring to her by her title earlier. In your defense, you hadn't realized she was nobility. She seemed to enjoy that, for some reason. You had only been sitting at the table for a few minutes when there was a sharp knock at the door. The Lady entered as gracefully as one possibly could when entering a door made for someone at least five feet shorter, her long dress trailing behind her as she clasped her hands and smiled. "Hello, darling. It's so lovely to see you in the flesh, so to speak! And just look at you! Why, that video feed certainly dulled your charms~" Her voice was dripping with genuine affection as she stepped over to you, taking a knee and reaching an elegant hand out to tussle your hair. You couldn't help but shudder as she did so; your nerves dancing in abject joy as she gently pet your head. Your eyes slowly closed in utter delight as you sagged back into your chair, your tensed muscles relaxing one by one by one... "Oh, but I apologize! Playtime can come later, dear. Let's get down to business, shall we?" You blinked in confusion as you realized She had stopped petting you, and couldn't stop yourself from letting out the smallest of whimpers as She began to withdraw Her hand. Every single one of Her eyes, each of which ranked among some of the most verdant jewels you had ever seen, quickly seemed to shift and dance to a brilliant violet. Her hand returned, sending your worries scuttling for the door as She did so. "Well…perhaps we can take a few minutes, first. Just to make sure you have been thoroughly examined, of course; it would be my duty as Own…as Overseer of this operation to guarantee your mental and physical wellbeing~" You smiled dreamily as you were picked up and held by Lady Violetta, happy that everything you had heard about the Affini was so clearly wrong. She grinned at you, a wide smile that showed all Her many, many pretty teeth, and held up a single, succulent berry, the sight of which made your mouth water. "Now then…let's play a fun little game. When I stroke downward on your cheek, I want you to open your mouth…"

[aerynwrites]

Lost For Words

Gale Dekarios x gn!Reader

A/N: for the anon that sent in this request - I hope you and everyone else enjoys! I had such a fun time writing this haha.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit), grinding, reader is a tease, gale is a flustered mess, suggestive talk, kissing, fluff at the beginning.

*I tried to keep this gender neutral, but please let me know if anything slipped through my editing!*

It’s not often you get any downtime, what with the parasite in your brain and all. 

But this evening has afforded you and your companions a rare but much needed free night. Most everyone has decided to spend the evening down in the tavern, drinking or gambling or whatever other pastimes happen down there. However, you and Gale have opted to stay upstairs, reveling in the unusual peace and quiet. 

Gale had been reading to you for a while, a fantasy book of some sort, but you’d excused yourself a few moments ago. Not because you were enjoying lounging in bed with him, but because a certain item in your bag has been calling to you since you received it. 

The Wavemother’s Robe. 

It has been a gift for getting ride of that machine that was polluting the bay waters, and you hadn’t really had a chance to look at it. 

But now, after you’ve retrieved it and stepped behind the dressing screen, you find that there isn’t really much to look at, at all. 

As you slip into the delicate yet butter-soft fabric, you can’t help but notice that it leaves very little to the imagination. So, in that sense, there is a lot to look at depending on who’s doing the looking. 

The neckline of the detailed collar of robe plummets down in a tragically deep neckline, the end reaching your navel. And the skirt of the robe is much the same, the slits in the sides coming up all the way to above your hip, leaving the fabric covering yourself hanging dangerously loose in the front and back. 

For half a second, you're tempted to rip the thing off and get rid of it. The whole outfit is somewhat absurd. 

But, despite your question about the functionality of such a garment, you can’t help but admire the beauty of it. The blue, scaled fabric sparkles in the dim candle light of the room, iridescent light bouncing off the walls whenever you turn. Even the small delicate chains at your hips and resting against your sternum twinkle gently. 

When you look in the floor-length mirror you can’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly. 

You look…good. If not a bit exposed. 

Without thinking much about it, you turn and come out from behind the screen, approaching Gale where he still sits on the bed reading. If he hears your approach he doesn’t acknowledge it, only flipping a page every so often as you watch him in silence, a small smile on your face. 

He’s sat propped up against the headboard, legs outstretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He cradles the book gentle in his hands atop his lap, eyes trailing over the page quickly as he consumes the story. 

You take a couple steps closer to the bed, now just an arms length away. 

He still doesn’t look up. 

“Gale…” you call in a soft sing-song voice. 

The wizard merely hums, inclining his head your way ever so slightly, but never takes his eyes from the page. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You huff, rolling your eyes as your smile tugs further at your lips. 

“I wanted your thoughts on my new clothes.” 

You watch as his brows furrow, his thumb sliding down the page to hold his place as he closes the book before slowly turning to look at you. 

“Your clothes-?”

His questioning is cut off with the audible clack of his teeth as his mouth slams shut, his eyes going wide as they finally take you in, trailing from your head to your toes before whipping back up again. 

He blushes. Actually blushes - his cheeks turning several shades darker as his eyes flit over your form once more before he’s back to looking at you all wide-eyed and scandalized. 

A shit eating grin overtakes your earlier soft smile as you take the last few steps to the edge of the bed, reaching out to pluck the book from his hands to toss it to the side. 

“So…what do you think?” you ask, voice dripping sweetness. 

“W-what do I-? I - ehm…it’s certainly - revealing-“

You drop your lips into a pout as you crawl onto the bed, your nose barely brushing his own as you swing a leg over his hips to settle on his lap. The robe pools between you, but the position causes the silken fabric to rise up your hips even further. One wrong move and even less would be left to the imagination. 

Something Gale must take notice of, as he instinctively reaches out to tug at the fabric on your hips, keeping it in place as his fingers dig into the flesh beneath it. 

“Do you not like it?” you ask, feigning disappointment as you reach down to toy with the chain running down your chest. “I thought it was pretty.” 

Gale clears his throat and shifts his hips, the evidence of just how much he likes it evident against your inner thigh. 

“N-No not at all I -“ He coughs, the blush reaching down to his chest now, making his orb mark stand out against the flushed skin. “I simply was not expecting…”

His words taper off as you begin to trail a finger over the mark on his chest, following the tendrils up over his collarbone and onto the sensitive skin of his neck, making his breath hitch. 

“Not expecting…what?” 

“Well - I was deeply entrenched in m-my reading and then you come out like t - that!” 

His last word pitches up when you grind your hips against his own, his fingers now digging into your hip bones. 

You lean in close, lips brushing his cheek as you speak. 

“Thats a very…lackluster description,” you pout. “Have I left the great Gale of Waterdeep lost for words? What happened to your supposed verbosity? And I remember something about a practiced tongue -“ 

Your teasing words are cut off sharply as Gale's arms wrap around your waist and he flips you both over on the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft this just as his lips claim yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise. 

He wastes no time, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. 

Something you happily grant him. 

The kiss is eager, frenzied, leaving no room for the teasing banter you had established earlier.

His hands move to slide down over your bare thighs before hiking one of them up over his hip and holding it there as he presses his hips down into your own. 

Only when his hips meet your own in a desperate grind does he pull away from you, lips moving instead to trail kisses down your cheek and jaw. 

“If you had given me a moment to collect myself,” he chastises lightly. “I would have gathered my wits enough to tell you how magnificent you look.” 

“Ravishing.” He presses a kiss beneath your ear. “Captivating.” Another on the junction of your shoulder. 

“Absolutely sinful.” 

A sharp nip to your collarbone has you gasping, just as a calloused hand slides up the exposed expanse of your chest, fingers hooking beneath the delicate chains there. 

“So…” He trails off, his lips traveling down to where his hand lays and then lower, pressing lightly to where the deep plunge of your robe ends. 

“Since you were so impatient, I suppose I’ll just have to show you as well. To make up for my lack of…verbosity.” 

A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you can't stop the shiver of excitement that runs through as his hands slip beneath the fabric of the robe. 

Maybe you’ll keep the robe after all. 

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Can you write about toxic policule of andrew x reader x ashley. Reader is Ashley childhood friend, who genuinely befriended her not trying to get to Andrew. The type that will try to throw them food during quarantine.

The polycule is in shambles ❤️

Andrew and Ashley x ChildhoodFriend!Reader

Befriending Ashley Graves was no easy task

She made you work for it to say the least

Giving you her homework to do because a good friend wouldn’t let their friend fail.

Some girl was saying stuff about her, so a good friend would go punch her square in her ugly face!

A good friend wouldn’t stare at other people, or make other plans

Ashley was exhausting, yes- and a lot of the time you wonder why you’re even her friend.

You catch yourself wondering that sometimes too…

“Yeah! Fuck off to your whore mothers!”

Your vision was still hazy- only being able to crack it open ever so slightly as to not mess with your black eye. You flinched as a small hand placed itself on her bruised cheek.

“Hold still!” The shrill voice snapped, “Lemme get a look at cha..”

LeyLey hummed, her lips pursing as she inspected your beaten up face. She retracted her hand and reached into the pocket of her overalls, and pulled out a crumbled up bandaid still in the package. She fumbled with the wrapper and placed the bandaid overtop the cut on your chin. It did nothing, but she smiled proudly.

“There! Now if those assholes do that again, just let me know! I’ll make Andy join me!” She grinned. You couldn’t help but smile back.

No one ever stood up for you as a child, and Ashley always made the bullies go away.

Albeit, out of fear- but fear was better than anything

So you stayed by Ashley’s side, because without her….you’d just be a target again. She told you herself.

Being so close with Ashley only mean being close with her brother as well

To an extent

Ashley pitched fits whenever you two hung out without her, claiming you were scheming against her to leave her.

Neither of you would do that

There was a silent agreement between you and Andrew to shower Ashley with as much affection as you both could when you three were together

This is probably how you became so used to their closeness

You and Andrew somehow managed to find common interests outside of Ashley, something she made fun of you two for on a regular basis

You don’t know how, and you don’t know why, but you slowly fell for both of them

It just hit you like a bag of rocks

To say you were subtle would be a blatant lie, so it didn’t take long for the siblings to catch on.

And make note to tease you about it…

“Here, let me help you with that Y/N..”

Sirens went off in your head as Andrew pressed himself against your back, trapping you between him and the counter. He reached over you, grabbing the bowl you had been reaching for. The few seconds he did that felt like an eternity, and you feared your face boiling from the heat that had risen to it. Your brain buffered, not registering that he had left to sit with Ashley on the couch.

Mr and Mrs Graves were out, and normally this led to a movie night the pair would invite you along. It was just a movie, you told yourself, you could handle it.

Oh you could not have been more wrong.

The pair felt far more….touchy than usual- and it was slowly killing you. As you sat, sandwiched between the pair, Ashley clung tightly to your arm. Her nails dug into your skin possessively as she rested her chin on your shoulder. Andrew had his arm over the both of you, claiming to just be resting it. He was also awfully close.

You slowly blocked the movie, and any other sounds out, the only thing being audible to you was the rapid beating of your heart.

You could’ve sworn you died for a second when both of them placed a hand on your thigh.

Both of them had a bet to see how long it would take you to tell them

Neither had anticipated it would be over the phone…

The quarantine hit and you weren’t allowed to see them

The entire thing made you anxious

Parasites in the water supply…

As dramatic as it was, you were worried you wouldn’t see them again

So you called them, confessed everything

And like any good siblings would….they decided to share you <3

They took turns staring down at you fondly from the balcony when you came by to throw them food

They called you late into the night to pester you, Andrew especially when he couldn’t sleep

Eventually security became so tight you couldn’t even go near the apartment without risk of being shot.

And the calls had stopped

You were worried they were mad at you…that they hated you…

Until they showed up on your doorstep one night….

[imaginariumwanderer]

Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

[bunbun-mochi]

Queen of Onychinus III

Sylus x MC

Warning: Fluff and Smut (MDNI!!!!) smut, p in v, oral female receiving, breeding (if you squint), use of safe word

Word Count: 1843

Preview: Sylus' beloved wife tries to match her sleeping schedule with her husband, but fails to do so. While she's sleeping, Sylus uses that opportunity to clean up the messes that those "parasites" had caused, but it certainly drained his energy. When he goes to bed, his wife makes sure to pamper him. (She also uses the opportunity when Sylus is sleeping to drag Luke and Kieran for shopping.)

I apologize in advance if there's any error. I tried. I just suck at writing.

I stared out the car window as the city landscape zipped pass by. Sylus drove the car with his left hand while gently rubbing my thigh with his right. As the time goes by, I noticed his hand is going closer and closer between my legs. If I decided to be a brat, I would've slapped his hands away. But I miss him. I crave for his touch. The closer he is to my heat, the faster my heart beats.

His hand was so close to my heat when the car suddenly stops and Sylus removed his hand. "We're home."

I looked at him, bewildered. This man smirked like as if he had won in getting me worked up. I should've been a brat and slapped his hand.

I frustrately sighed, opened the car door and before I can step out, my whole body floats.

Sylus carried me from the car and walked into our home. His scent was so strong that it completely took over my senses.

Then it hit me.

My period was three weeks ago.

So my next period is next week.

So that means-- No wonder why I was craving for Sylus.

Before I knew it, I was already on my back in bed. Sylus immediately climbed on top of me and kissed me hungrily. Without breaking our kiss, his hands slowly slid behind my back, unzipped my dress and slowly dragged the dress down my body.

More.

I was a gasping and a moaning mess. My mind is just filled with my husband, of what he could do to me. His tongue slid into my mouth, trying to taste me.

More.

I wrapped my arms around neck, pushing him closer toward me. Sylus finally break off the kiss, giving us an opportunity to breath.

"You look so beautiful." Sylus leaned down and kissed down my neck. "So." Kiss. "Fucking" Kiss. "Beautiful." Kiss.

I couldn't respond. All I wanted is him to take me, devour me. I didn't even notice when Sylus unclasped my bra and tossed it aside. He leaned back to look at my near naked body. I don't even want to know what I look like now. That thought made me self conscious and I tried to cover myself up.

Sylus gently took my wrists and push them aside. "No, let me see you. You look so divine. I could worship you. No, I can worship you. I need to worship you."

Before I could respond, he leaned down and kissed my chest. I whimpered as I feel his tongue playing with my chest. I felt the heat from his mouth then coldness as the air blew on my wet chest.

Sylus certainly is worshipping me. His mouth is everywhere. He kissed, licked, and sucked my chest. Then he slowly goes down, worshipping my stomach. Then he go lower and lower. He finally reached to my heat. I shivered from both excitement and the coldness of the air. Sylus gently spread my legs and kissed on my thighs.

I whimped and slightly arced my back, trying to make him understand where I wanted him.

But he only smirked while continuing to kiss my thighs.

"Sylus~" I whined.

Sylus chucked, rich and deep. "Patience, sweetie." He slowly hooked his fingers on my panties and dragged it down my legs painfully slow. Part of me wanted to grab my panties and rip it off my legs and throw it away, along with my other discarded clothes.

Sylus could see my frustration because as soon as he got my panties off, his mouth dived between my legs.

I felt air knocked out of my lungs as I felt his lips and tongue between my legs. The only sounds in our shared bedroom are my moans and the filthy sounds between my legs as Sylus is making a mess there. Before I know it, I was silently screaming as my body came undone.

However, Sylus doesn't stop there. He continues to devour me as if he is a man who hasn't eaten for days. I shrieked as I tried to pry his face away and try to back away from his face, unsuccessful as he was so much stronger than me. He made me come undone the second time. Gibberish and nonsense are coming out of my mouth. Even I couldn't understand what I was trying to say. My mind was a mess and my legs were shaking violently.

Sylus finally finishes with a few more kisses between my thighs before he starts taking his clothes off. While I was on the bed, trying to catch my breath. Trying to come down from the high. But clearly, Sylus enjoyed seeing me in a mess as he did not wait for a few seconds before I felt him pressing into me.

I have one arm around his neck and the other on his chest as if my body doesn't know to keep him closer or push him away. Then I felt him pushing further into me and I could only silently moan. I felt tears threatening to overflow. I couldn't breathe.

Sylus leaned in and pecked my cheek. "Breath, sweetie. I can't have you pass out now."

I whimpered, "You... you're too... much..."

Sylus scowled in concern, "Are you in pain?"

I feel Sylus start to slide out and I quickly wrap my legs around him, preventing him from leaving. "No, I'm fine. It was just... too much. Just... don't move yet."

Sylus nodded, slid back in, and gently kissed my face as I adjusted to him. After a few seconds, I arched my back and moved my hip, asking him to start moving. Sylus smiled and pecked my lip before moving.

He was hitting every sweet spot and I started to see stars. I moaned so loudly, that I swear people around the perimeter could hear me. But my mind is too occupied to care. I screamed as I came undone and Sylus followed closely after. He groaned as I felt heat spreading inside me.

I wasn't aware my body was capable of staying awake for so long because we went through so many rounds and positions, I felt my entire body weak. Unable to move. Sylus made sure I came undone each round and he came undone himself inside me several times. It felt like we were animals. Animals in heat. The sounds in our room only consisted of my moans, his groans, and the wet sounds coming from our lower regions. The room smells like our sex. So intoxicating.

I feel like my body is going to give up. Mustering my last strength, I gasped, "Flowers."

Then everything turned black.

I woke up cold. The room is dimly lit from the morning light. I moved my sore arm around me, trying to feel a certain someone. When I felt was only the cold sheets, I slowly sit up and looked around the room.

The room is empty. My husband is nowhere to be found. But I knew him well. He probably went out deal with those "aristocrats" that are still kneeling at the meeting room. I lay back down, missing his body heat.

I turned over and grabbed my phone on the nightstand and started to message him.

The bed is so cold. How could someone be so heartless and leave their beloved in bed. Alone.

I waited for him to text back, which didn't take long. I can already see the three dots, dancing, as he types.

Sorry sweetie, had some business to take care of. will be home soon.

I sighed. It must be serious business whenever he types short. I brought the blanket over my head and drifted back to sleep.

I wasn't able to sleep long as the light shined through the window gotten stronger. I rubbed my tired eyes and dragged my sore body to the kitchen to make myself some food.

While making a simple breakfast, I saw the time on the stove, showing 11 in the morning. That concerned me. Sylus had been dealing with those people for that long?

It could be the loud cooking sound or I am so in my though that I didn't hear the front door open. I nearly jumped when I felt arms wrapped around me from behind. A familiar scent engolfed me. I smiled as I felt a familiar gentle kiss on the back of my neck.

"Good morning, love." I said as I greeted my lovely husband.

Sylus hummed in response and leaned his chin on my shoulder. I looked back and saw his tired face. I tilted my head toward him. "Tired?"

"A little bit." Sylus answered.

Of course he would say that. I bet he barely gotten enough sleep as he had to deal with his business overseas, then rush back home, then have to deal with those people in the meeting room.

"Want me to make you something to eat?"

Sylus nodded.

"Go sit down, I'll whip you something."

Sylus pecked my cheek, "Thanks, sweetie."

I hummed, "Of course, love."

I rummaged through the fridge for what I could cook for Sylus. This man is huge. He eats nearly five times more me. When I finished cooking, Sylus, was on the dining table, eyes closed and leaning on his hand. I quickly brought his food over. "Eat quick so you can sleep."

Sylus only hummed in response.

I was reading on the bed while Sylus slept on my lap. He said my lap is softer than any pillows and he'll sleep better there. I massaged his scalp through his soft hair.

As much as I wanted to keep up with Sylus' schedule unfortunately I can't. He only requires a few hours of sleep meanwhile I need at least 8 hours of sleep. Even though I try to stay awake during the night and sleep during the day, my body refuses to accept that change. The latest I can stay up is 3am. I typically would wake up around noon. Although it's not the sleep schedule I hoped for, I'm glad I can still snuggle in bed with Sylus.

I sighed as I read the last sentence of the book. Now I need something else to entertain me. Then I heard the door slowly click open and I saw two masked twins through the gap.

"Pst, there's a sale," Luke said.

Sale?

Shopping!

I excitedly grabbed a nearby plushie and gently shoved it under Sylus and I sneaked out of bed. I quickly and quietly changed, snatched Sylus' black card from the nightstand, and sneaked out of the bedroom.

"Go go go!" I gently pushed Luke and Kieran outside the mansion. "LET'S GO SHOPPING!"

Nothing can go between me and discounts!

Meanwhile:

Sylus woke up as he felt the "lap" he was sleeping on was lacking in body heat. He opened one eye, only to see eye to eye with a crow plushie.

"Sweetie?"

He looked around the room, trying to find his beloved wife, but only greeted with silence.

"SWEETIE!"

Thanks for reading!

dividers, templates, headers, and banners are from @uzmacchiato

[oskidontle]

HUNGRY SMILERS 🔪

Alright so first off I know this kinda stuff is not everyones cup of tea so for followers and randoms alike that don't want to see this AU pop up in the future block the #HungrySmilersAU tag as that's what I'll be tagging this.

Anyway! Took me long enough. I only hope that the few of you who have been lingering around find this worth it. I also hate how Tumblr absolutely demolishes quality.

While they all didn't know it out first. Slowly but surely something invaded their systems, changed them. Now they are at the mercy of something primal. The Hunger.

The Hunger. Is it a force? Infection? Parasite? Spell? It's unknown what it is exactly but now they have a hunger for human and critter flesh.

They remain stable most of the time but the longer they go without feeding the more their own bodies fight against them; eventually they loose control of themselves and their forms. (This form change can also be triggered at the start of a hunt)

They hunt their clients. Their main goal is still to make the client smile but it's a ploy to slowly gain trust of the client. When the client finally smiles The Hunger takes over and the hunt begins.

The Smiling Friends are completely aware of what they're doing but it is out of their control. As you can imagine being forced to kill people weighs heavy on a conscious.

Interestingly they are never caught. Nothing ever pops up on the news. No police reports aside from the occasional missing persons report. Mr.Boss also seems to know more than he lets on. But that's for a future post to get into.

Anyway sorry if you expected something like hyper detailed in design. Or analog found photos type of style. I wanted to keep the designs easily recognizable. Less scary to us as viewers and more scary in-universe. Of course I tried to still make em all a bit creepy to look at. Hope this will work regardless! ^^

[arminsumi]

. . . 𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭

Geto Suguru

Regret has haunted Suguru ever since he parted ways with you; he's pining, lost, going mad. It kills him that he's made an enemy out of someone he loved.

► "I know that I ended it... but why didn't you stop me?"

+ Warnings/content: angst, pining, friends to enemies to lovers

Suguru's deepest regret is that he didn't kiss you before he parted ways. It eats him up more and more every day, like a parasite in his chest, chewing slowly on his muscles down to his bones.

Why didn't I kiss you?

He asks himself this so often — too often, god, he can't catch a break from his own mind, can't stop this regret from gnawing on his ribcage.

But isn't he his own obstacle? He chooses not to get over you. Yes, he actively chooses to not move on. Day after day, Suguru chooses to vividly remember the day he said goodbye to you — it's become his favorite film, he's memorized all the expressions, words, tones and romanticized it to no end.

We were perfectly tragic.

Late spring, flowers on the floor, black night, his tears, his shivering lashes, that quivering voice. Looking into his eyes, you saw that he wasn't prepared to let go.

He was holding onto you. Claws in your flesh.

Maybe that's why he chose to say farewell behind the 7-eleven; it was the place where you and him first met. The story was that both your Jujutsu schools had coincidentally assigned you two to exorcise the same curse; you were confused by Suguru's technique and wrongly went for him, like he was the bad guy — isn't it all so ironic now? You remember how he panted with a smile, like he got a kick out of fighting you, how he explained to you that it was a misunderstanding and that he was on your side. He remembers receiving a hateful look from you; it made his heart tick, leading him to wonder to himself what's wrong with me? I always love women who hate me.

Because of how you met, you and Suguru being 'enemies' was a running joke that carried on through your late teenage years.

Springs passed. Things changed — no, things got worse. Suguru was drowning and no one could see it, not even you, the girl who knew him like the back of her hand.

Suddenly, all those years spent living side by side each other in blissful, oblivious youth converged into a moment of goodbye.

There went by the scent of those falling flowers. Suguru's nerves were at full attention, sharp and prickly all over his skin. Goosebumps. He was jittery, even shaking — a look that you never thought he'd wear, being as cool as he always was.

You told him, "You don't have to be someone you're not just because of me." but he didn't want to hear that. No, he needed to hear something else. He needed to be told "Suguru, no matter what path you take, I'll always love you, deep down inside."

The night breeze chilled him. He stared down at you, eyes full of hurt like you've never seen in a man's eyes before.

Stark neon light from the vending machines painting your features, he didn't miss how your lips quivered. He leaned into you slowly, but then there was a sudden stutter in his movements. Something held him back.

Suguru chickened out from kissing you — that's what it seemed like to you, anyways.

But it was deeper than that. He never opened up about it. He just left. He just went.

. . . 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭,

and he's still haunted by memories of that night, heart rotting with regret. He can hardly sleep, can hardly eat, can hardly keep any food down — how could he stomach food when he can't even stomach his own choices?

Suguru visits the place where you and him first met.

He trudges through snow in winter, kicks leaves off his path in autumn — leans against the wall where the both of you once stood and just stares at the floor, allowing himself to hurt all over.

But no season makes him hurt quite like spring, when the scent of blooming flowers is so potent and strong that he chokes up.

What would you do if you saw him again?

He's thought so deeply about what he'd say to you that it's become a script; he knows the words by heart.

Why didn't you stop me?

Did you have feelings for me?

Do you hate me?

Please let me kiss you. Just once.

No, he's scratched the last one off his script.

He sighs to himself all the time — all the time. How did he make an enemy out of the one he loved?

A question that plagues his brooding mind is do you still love me even after what I did? He wonders if it's even possible. Sometimes he just settles on the assumption that you and Satoru hold a deep hatred against him.

. . . 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮,

your face appears around the corner; he can't mistake it.

Meeting you again after years have passed, though as enemies, makes him feel stilled, like all the chaos stops momentarily.

He doesn't know what to say, or how to act, so he just stays silent and motionless in front of you.

You speak and feelings start to rip him apart. "Suguru, where have you been?"

It's awkward. It's melancholic. The tension between you and Suguru is not just because of the gruesome truth of what violence he committed, nor the betrayal; no, it's more than all that.

He's utterly speechless, holding an unbreaking eye contact with you. Gazing into your eyes after so many years of staring into fuzzy photographs makes him feel giddy like a little kid, despite the severe expression you have.

You talk slowly and carefully to him, almost warily, and it breaks his heart little by little.

"I know we're not allies, but I'm still the same Suguru that you used to spend nights talking to." he quietly reminds you, hurt evident in his voice.

He gazes deeper into your eyes, deeper and deeper until he's dizzy. You hardly know how to respond.

"Suguru," you whisper back, tearing up, "Why did you do it?"

He doesn't respond, completely ignoring this.

"... I still think of you."

"... hey, answer me."

As he comes two steps closer, you back two steps away.

"... and I left so many things unsaid."

"... Suguru, I know, but — "

"... and I should have kissed you before I left." he blurted out.

Shocked, you take a moment to register what he just said.

"Why didn't you?"

"I just didn't want to taint you." he breaths, "I'm too fucked up and you're too sweet for me."

He brings his face closer to you, casting a shadow over your whole body, backing you into the wall. The setting sun peeks out from behind him, the breeze slows.

Suguru looks at you like an adoring, sad puppy. His face is full of all his regret and lust and longing and desperation. You've never seen this look in his eyes before — he's kept everything to himself ever since you met him.

Looking intently at your lips and wetting his own, he begs you softly, "Please, let me kiss you."

You shake your head very slowly, feeling so conflicted.

"Just once? Please, I need it so badly." he admits desperately, and then says your name in the softest tone you've ever heard a man speak in; your name, every letter so special to him, each syllable quivering in the air between your faces.

He's so close you can see every detail in his face; the harrowed eyebags, the sorrow in the wrinkles of his eyes, and flashes of memories in his pupils. Even more than all that, you can see the downturn of his parted mouth.

"I want to," you admit, swallowing sharply, "But I can't."

Lashes fluttering so sorrowfully, Suguru pulls back a little.

It's the same place, the same season, and the same pitiful situation.

There's a small silence in which you feel a madly desperate feeling emanating from Suguru, and then he crashes his lips onto yours so hard that you whimper.

Breathing hard, heart thumping up against his chest, Suguru holds you in place while he presses his wettened lips against you, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss.

You quickly surrender to him, and when you reciprocate his kiss — he whimpers. It's so subtle and quiet, but you feel it on your lips and tongue.

Kissing until you both run out of breath, Suguru finally pulls away — plucking little kisses from your lips as he does, like he just can't stop yet.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes heavily, still keeping close to your face, not ready to let go. "I need you."

You look up into his eyes and he feels shivers going down his back.

"... I won't tell Satoru." you breathe.

His breath catches, and he doesn't hesitate to go in for the next kiss — and the next and the next and the next until you're letting him mark your neck with a harsh hickey.

Of course, you can't spend all day there, you realize after fifteen minutes of making out with your 'enemy'.

"I've got to report back." you tell him, "He's going to get suspicious if I'm out too long."

"Okay," Suguru pulls away, licking his lips and rubbing them together like he's just enjoyed a feast. "Can I see you again?"

"I don't know..." you mutter unsurely, "If Satoru finds out, he's going to — "

"So what?" Suguru feathers, "I don't care what he does, I don't care if I ruin your reputation — I need you in my arms tomorrow."

Your expression spoke volumes.

"Okay, I'll be here tomorrow night." you murmur.

Suguru's guilt hardly affects him as he goes home; your kisses meant everything to him. Your reciprocation and lamb-like weakness in his arms filled him with ecstasy.

He doesn't care that you were his 'enemy' — maybe the taboo makes it feel even better. It's wrong. It's not allowed. And he wants it so bad, he stands with eager anticipation behind the 7-eleven every night, waiting for you.

This place where you two first met, now five years later, has become a spot where you and him make out like teenagers.

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲