#makes her that much more unsettling
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goldensunset · 4 months ago
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the indecision between ‘i love this character and i want them to be happy/i want to see more of them’ and ‘it would be most narratively compelling/intriguing if they died or otherwise were (mysteriously) never seen or heard from again’
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afacelesschampion · 3 months ago
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LONGLEGS (2024) dir. Osgood Perkins
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clegfly · 1 month ago
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Puter au Plot basically. Based off of this
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cloudbends · 3 months ago
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Thank god I checked the official pokemon yt channel THEY UPLOADED THE FULL EPISODE?
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fragmentedblade · 5 months ago
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I think I've become an official HI3 player. I check the HSR leaks hoping for iterations of HI3 characters now
#I have little hope about some of them. For instance the Su and Kevin voice actors are taken by Aventurine and the Trailblazer iirc?#Kalpas' voice actor does the male Dreamseeker in Part 2 of HI3 which is not as terminal considering HSR is a different game but still#Luocha thankfully exists. I don't think they'll be introducing Kiana anytime soon#I would love Sakura but I'm way more into PE Sakura than CE Sakura and then there's what they did with Miko#Some of my favourite things of PE Sakura they gave to Jingliu or Acheron already (freeze time‚ haunted and corrupted by loss‚#unable to unsheathe a sword and memories coming back to her when she does‚#piercing someone's heart with her sword but the other person living on with a new life‚...)#Thus an iteration of all that but with the cool things missing could get messy and unsatisfactory pretty easily#Mobius and MEI are similar to Mei and Herta so they're in a similar situation to PE Sakura#I find Griseo somewhat unsettling in a good way and in a way same with Eden. I love all the loss weighing on her as if she had already dead#with the concept of her being The Era itself and the era dying. So I wouldn't mind seeing them too#Hua seems like she may appear in the Xianzhou? Given the Marshall existence and that the Xianzhou drinks a lot of those concepts#Blade‚ Dan Heng and Jingliu drink so much of Fu Hua. I don't care about Hua though. The Herrscher I did like though#I'm curious about what they'll do#Other than the Chinese voice actor having already a steady job in Mihoyo‚ there's echoes of Kalpas in Blade‚ Arlan and Sam#so I really don't have much hope there. Not as little as with Kevin and Su perhaps but... yeah not really a lot of hope#Yet here I am. Hopelessly hoping for a Kalpas iteration. Imagine how beautiful the fire would be *sigh*#I was so mad about him being my favourite in HI3 but it just makes sense#Besides the Guzm.a process he went me go through‚ he truly has a lot of themes going on that recall Blade. I don't know...#I like his CN voice actor a lot‚ and how he plays Kalpas in particular‚ both when he's calm and when he's deranged#The Dreamseeker doesn't have the same voice at all unfortunately. I would really love to see him in HSR what can I say#That's the kind of person I've become. In a little bit of time I'll be wanting a Kalpas plushie at this rate#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later
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swordmaid · 5 months ago
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have this hc that shri’iia has a particular way of talking as in she’s been conditioned to treat every conversation as a (sort of interrogation) and that she always tries to fish out more info about the person she’s talking to and give little to no info about herself but it’s not obvious …. the high charisma and charm ! makes it feel like you’re having a nice convo with her but by the end you realize you’ve just info dumped and told her about your backstory and trauma and name of your first best friend, security pin number, mother’s maiden name and the only thing you know about her is her name and she has a mole on her chest.
oathbreaker shri’iia is trying to break out of that habit obvi she’s trying to unlearn everything her matriarch has programmed into her but it’s funny to think about…. like if she was a bg3 companion and you talk about the first tadpole dream/dream guardian visit to her she’ll be like
‘well mine wasn’t anything significant, what about you? what did the dream figure look like? what could they want? did they look familiar to you? someone from your past? did they tell you anything that could be useful to us?’ and so on and so forth and she’ll just let you yap but she won’t share anything from her end
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rosecrowned · 1 year ago
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margaery when she heard renly and loras were scheming to get her to court so robert would become infatuated with her and replace cersei with her
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#♡ about. ⊱ ❝ 𝘌𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴. ❞#I think this is like . . . the one scheme of theirs that she wasn't really a willing participant in lmao#like I'm sorry boys but that was SUCH a fucking stupid play to try to make. and not one I see marg attempting on her own volition.#it would have done a lot to give renly and loras more sway but would have done jack shit for marg personally and she would recognize that#the sad thing is I don't think she would have refused to do it altogether but it definitely wasn't the same prospect to her#as trying to marry joffrey or tommen#like yes marg wanted power she wanted to be THE queen but it's just Different under those circumstances#unsettling implications aside#with joffrey or tommen she felt she could have power over them at the very least#which is what put her into competition with cersei bc cersei wanted to keep that control over her sons#robert was much older and already married and she wouldn't have any power over him. cersei didn't and she's cersei fucking lannister.#and plus being seen as a 'mistress' first would have been bad for her reputation and we know how important her reputation is to her#and on top of all of that what is the fucking point??? if robert was almost guaranteed to die when she's still young????#then she'd just have to marry joffrey anyway if she had any hope to remain queen#but that would be almost impossible given the circumstances of her being previously married to his 'father'#also the irony of them planning this because they think she looks like lyanna and that will be enough to entice robert isn't lost on me#if they succeeded they would have just been damning her to the same fate lyanna had tried to run from#anyway the whole situation is just Nasty and I am shaking renly and loras by their well-conditioned hair#it's scary its gross it's ironic and sad
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bylertruther · 1 year ago
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the way tht i immediately thought abt s5 and certain potential character arcs when i watched prey last year. now i'm not saying i'm a prophet but i'm just saying that maybe . Maybe. we ought to consider the possibility....................... 🧐
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glamserve · 1 year ago
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stella seeing springtrap in that hidden room and deciding to repair him is truly the most literal depiction of seeing a bunch of red flags and going "I can fix him."
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alyimoss · 8 days ago
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he would do this as in it fits his character, but he wouldnt do it in canon bc he literally would not get a chance to as xtale and the skelebros becoming his kids was basically an accident (or, rather, it was planned i think but the timing of when it happened wasnt?? and it caused some things like him being unable to see that frisk had given muffet a family and him just straight up forgetting to give monsters a history) BUT he would definitely monitor what is watched in his house to compensate.
hes shown in canon to have visions of his desired future that he uses to make decisions in the present that will lead him to it (biggest example i can think of is him ordering cross to get frisk down from a tree with his magic and then immediately stopping him from doing so as he saw that frisk getting down safely would somehow compromise that future. and then he immediately goes to blame it all on cross lmao father of the year) so i think part of the decision making process is. that. like yeah he wants to keep media like this out of the brothers reach for easier manipulation, but also if the visions tell him them seeing this movie is going to butterfly effect into the future he strives towards?? fuck it.
that being said cross definitely watches that movie at some point and does not get the point.
its suggested by killer as part of a movie night (he chooses all the disney princess movies. kind of as a joke. horror and dust dont care enough abt movie choice bc theyre gonna sleep thru that shit anyway and cross doesnt wanna be the one with a dissenting opinion so he doesnt say anything) and as hes watching he just keeps asking questions like "why are they painting the mother as a villain? shes being a good mother. this is what good parents do. rapunzel should feel lucky to have such a good mother" and the others are like "ohhh they done boinked you up at the boy factory.... your dad fucked you right up at the son factory huh."
xgaster the kind of dad to make sure the tangled movie doesn’t exist in his universe just in case his kids see it and realize something might be up with his choice in parenting style
#i havent watched that movie since i was like 10 so i honestly dont even know if cross not getting the point is like. feasible#but also no offense cross you really are that stupid and indoctrinated that youd miss the point staring you right in the face#anyway the others are a little like. weirded out?? by his tragic backstory like i dont think any of them would care thaattt much#like canonically. or as close to canon as i ever get.#but theyd feel a little unsettled by it like. damn you got a dad in your universe and all he did was use you as a tool.#like wow you never got a break your life just started out sucking. you were made to be a little lackey. wild.#meanwhile cross just starts sobbing halfway thru the movie bc shitty as xgaster is. seeing his behaviors in the mother makes him miss#his world terribly. even his shitty abusive dad. and he both understands rapunzel for wanting to leave her captivity#and sees his own naive mistakes in her behaviors. thinking he could make his world better and ending up just losing it all...#he fears the same will happen to her the whole movie. and he just sobs thinking abt his world and i think movie night ends there#bc everyone else feels too awkward LMAO#also meant to add but forgor that neither killer dust nor horror paid attention to any of the movies#cross went in thinking hes just gonna pretend to be paying attention but actually do smthn else and then.#got really invested in the movies. didnt notice noone else was into it just him.#i simultaneously think hes the type to ask a million questions as the movie is going and someone who used to be like that#and then got scared into just staying silent the whole time by xgaster. bc he would definitely find that shit annoying as hell#ok anyway i think thats it im just gonna get more derailed if this goes on#I FUCKING LOOOVEEE TALKING ABT XFAMILY theyre so fucked up and traumatized and fucked up <3 love them#rebog#finking#ig
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beeapocalypse · 1 year ago
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AUGH karins orphanage dialogue where she says if anyone does you wrong you have to retaliate swiftly + violently. girl you have gotten into so many fist fights for sure
#if her day was just two percent worse the moment daan started teasing her when the train stopped she wouldve tackled him like a dog lol#her backstory of getting kidnapped and living unknowingly With her kidnapper for years in a country she didnt know the language of is--#--so much man there is no way she feels safe around anyone unless shes seen them at their worst / has grilled them for hours with deeply--#--uncomfortable questions. unsatisfied to be anything but the one in charge bc if she isnt shes in danger. the sheer DISGUST that comes--#--thru in her anger! gah !#shes so interesting. she feels awkward around children bc her only frame of reference of childhood herself is a deeply uncomfortable--#--and unsettling period of time where nobody believed her about anything but it is SO hard for her to put aside her own--#--roughness to get down on their level. an entire lifetime where authority figures failed her so now shes--#--got to fight for every single inch of ground gained#GAH. contrasting that with daans tendency to mold himself into the shape that authority wants from him. they make me SICK !!!!!#daan teasing her abt her bremen unethical experiments theory + his being a doctor putting him in a position of Opposing Authority in her--#--head that makes her feel like shes touching a hot stove or some shit for a while jsut looking at him when rlly they both have the same--#--exact issues and have just learned to cope w them differently. the moment karin swallows down that trigger finger anger and has a real--#--conversation with him just makes being around him all the more uncomfortable bc she is forced to acknowledge he is just a man and not an-#--enemy. constantly going after him and all her snappy anger was directed at this weird + sad victim of the war. like ummmmm oops. but she-#--never apologizes .
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ohproserpine · 10 months ago
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i. deer dolly
part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love
"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"
"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"
“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”
“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”
"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"
"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."
Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."
Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."
"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him. 
Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~" 
Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"
Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."
Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."
"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.
Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."
"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."
“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”
Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."
“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”
"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”
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Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town. 
A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.
It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.
Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers." 
Charming. 
With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman. 
Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow. 
As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.
"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"
"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"
‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'
"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”
Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."
Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.
"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.
Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.
Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.
"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.
The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.
Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.
As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.
"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"
Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"
"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.
In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.
Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale
The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.
He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.
She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around
As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.
“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.
Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.
The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.
"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”
With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.
‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.
Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.
There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features. 
“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile. 
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.
"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.
Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "
"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."
A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.
"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"
"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."
Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."
“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.
With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.
Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead. 
This man could fucking dance.
As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.
"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.
"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."
After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.
"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.
Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."
While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.
As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose. 
What were you doing to him?
"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"
Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.
"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.
Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."
Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.
Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.
However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.
"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."
Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.
Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.
"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout. 
"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."
Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"
He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.
"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"
“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.
“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.
Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."
You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."
Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.
"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said. 
Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.
"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.
With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit. 
Yes, he shall see you very soon.
Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."
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lovecuprite · 2 months ago
Text
Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna
contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (reader giving), v brief breath play, no aftercare, this is consensual but it might seem dubcon at times so i'll say that just in case
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc:- 7.3k (sorry!)
an: if you saw this yesterday, tumblr ate most of it, so this is the proper version with the full 7k
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The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries.
Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you. Either way, your defiance had earned you more than a few sharp looks throughout the day.
He had been so patient at first, watching as you deliberately disobeyed his orders, meeting his gaze with a silent challenge in your eyes. It was a dangerous game, one which you knew would only end one way, but a small part of you relished it, even craved the inevitable punishment that would follow.
Piqued annoyance now danced in his expression as you stood before him in the dark-lit room. The light of the candles danced across his tattooed skin as he leaned back into the cushion, arms over his chest, eyes intent on him-like some sort of predator sizing his prey.
"You have been bold today, haven't you?" Sukuna said, his voice low and almost a purr, but beneath the smoothness lay a warning. Crimson eyes shone with something dark and predatory as he watched you with unsettling intensity.
You didn't move, not as your heart raced in your chest; your eyes still flashed defiance, though it wavered a little under his gaze. Sukuna noticed, of course-he noticed everything.
He laughed darkly, the sound rumbling through the room like distant thunder. "What's the matter? The little concubine thinks she can disobey her king?" His voice was thick with mockery, but beneath it lay an unmistakable edge of menace.
You still wouldn't back down, even as the chill ran down your spine. "I'm not scared of you," you said-the defiance in your voice, a lot stronger than the quiver in your chest.
His smirk only widened, eyes glinting in the low light. "Is that so?" He pushed off from the cushions, standing to his full height in a fluid-almost graceful-movement. Sukuna towered over you, the suffocating presence of his power that made the air around you thick and heavy.
He took a slow, deliberate step toward you, each step echoing in the chamber as he never so much as broke gaze with yours. “You forget your place, little one. And I think it’s about time I remind you exactly who you answer to.”
You swallowed hard but stood your ground, your heart pounding while he drew nearer. He was testing you now, pushing the limits of your defiance, testing how far you would go. But you couldn't halt the quickening of your pulse in anticipation, the thrill coursing through you despite the danger.
Sukuna stopped only a few millimetres away from you, his giant physique casting a shadow over your small frame. He cocked his head as he reached out, crimson eyes shining with dark humour, and brushed one of his hands against your cheek, the touch feather light, deceptive.
"You've been a brat all day," he mused, the soft low tone of his voice a direct contrast to the danger swimming inside him. "And I'm not fond of brats. You know that."
And before he could receive a reaction from you, the other hand shot out, clutching at your chin in a firm grip, making you look up at him. His touch wasn't gentle anymore; it was commanding, dominant, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.
"You really think you can challenge me?" His voice now a dark growl, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to hold his gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing, almost mocking, as he leaned down closer. "You forget who I am, don't you?"
You shivered, but the stubborn fire in your eyes remained, even as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip until you parted them with a soft gasp; he smirked, clearly amused despite himself.
“I could break you,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous as his lips hovered just above yours. “Make you beg for me. But I can also make you wait… draw it out until you remember who’s in control.”
The heat between your bodies flared and he held you there, so close yet still out of reach. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of desire and fear as the resolve within you started to crumble under the fierce stare that bound you against your will to him.
When he finally moved, it was with brutal precision. Sukuna spun you around, pressing your front to the cool wall of the chamber with ease, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back slightly. "You wanted my attention, didn't you?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper in your ear as his hot breath danced across your skin, his hand trailing down your back. “Well, now you have it.”
You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch as his hand slid lower, gripping your hips possessively. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away with this behaviour” he growled, his voice a dangerous promise as his fingers dug into your flesh.
Sukuna yanked your hips back against him, his body pressing firmly against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re going to regret testing me,” he whispered darkly, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hand slid around to your front, teasing you just enough "Now," he growled huskily, the scent of dominance emanating s he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and nipping the sensitive skin there to set fireworks, something he could so easily do with a mere touch. "Beg me to put you back in your place."
You knew he was playing with you, waiting for you to submit again, but you couldn't help how your body betrayed you-the pooling of heat so low in your stomach as his words fired up something deep inside. Caged in his grip, cornered against the wall, you still couldn’t refrain from pushing once more.
“No.”
“No? Okay.” he chuckled darkly, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. “Strip.”
You briefly turned your head and looked at him, unsure and as you hesitated, he added with a wicked smirk, “Do it or I’ll do it for you.”
The thought of him tearing the delicate fabric from your body sent a thrill through you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you felt the pull of his dominance wrapping around you like a shroud. Your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, but a deeper part of you—a primal instinct—began to ache for his approval.
With a deep breath, you decided to relent, knowing that fighting him any longer would only provoke him further. You turned your back to him and slowly began to slide the silk off your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your arms. The dress pooled at your feet, baring your skin to him. The cool air brushed against you, sending goosebumps cascading across your body as you stood looking vulnerable before him.
Yet despite that, his eyes never wavered to admire your body, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before but right now he didn’t seem the least bit interested.
You faced him, expecting praise or the usual good girl, but he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, making your heart race with both anticipation and confusion. Sukuna’s gaze was piercing, roaming over your exposed form, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny igniting something deep within you—a desperate yearning for his approval.
You swallowed hard, the heat pooling in your stomach igniting a mixture of shame and desire. Sukuna was playing with you, aware of your need for his validation, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of submission and rebellion.
“Please,” you whispered, desperate to shift the balance back in your favour, to spark that glimmer of approval in his eyes. “I just wanted—”
“What?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. “Attention? Affection? Or perhaps you wanted to remind me how unruly you can be?”
The words were both exhilarating and terrifying, as you recognized the game he was playing. Sukuna knew exactly what you craved and was determined to toy with it, twisting your desires into something that left you vulnerable.
“You should know by now,” he continued, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “My favourite concubine doesn’t act like this.” he whispers as his hand cups your face. “She knows her place—knows how to please me.”
Your heart clenched at his words, the subtle reminder of your position stoking the embers of your longing. You craved his approval, his affection, and each taunt felt like a jagged edge against your pride. But the harder he pushed, the greater the need for his acknowledgment became.
"Look at you, practically begging for it," he teased, his voice low as his fingers brushed over the uncovered skin of you. "But you'll learn, in time, that defiance only leads to disappointment."
With a predatory grace, Sukuna shifted, his gaze never leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of his royal bed, the dark fabric of the covers contrasting sharply against his skin. The way he was sitting-relaxed, yet commanding-sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine.
"Come here," he ordered; it was an order reverberating with a sternness that was impossible to disregard. Your heart racing, you moved closer until the space between you two was charged with tension. "Get over my knee," he said, the corners of his mouth raising into a sly grin. The words were spoken as though this was a test, a test of how well you'd do.
The heat in your cheeks flared as you hesitated, caught between pride and the undeniable desire to submit. But the need for his approval was overwhelming, and as you moved closer, the thrill of obedience battled against your rebellious spirit.
Sukuna’s gaze held you captive, eyes glimmering with amusement as he patted his knee, the gesture both inviting and authoritative. “I won't ask twice," he warned, his voice low and full of promise.
You swallowed hard as you took a deep breath and realised it was your call. You leaned over reluctantly, laying across his lap and positioning yourself, your hands resting on the coolness of the sheets-a sharp contrast to the heat emitting from your body.
“There we go” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rested a hand on your back, keeping you in place.
As you settled over him, a rush of vulnerability coursed through you, yet beneath it lay a profound sense of longing for his approval, making it impossible to feel anything but exhilarated. In that moment, you knew there would be no escaping the power he held over you/
His hand travelled further up your thigh, fingers teasingly close to your ass but never quite crossing that line. It was an intentionally deliberate choice, placing you on edge, and you could feel that anticipation, coiling in your belly like a spring, ready to burst.
"Remember," he warned, his voice dropping to that low growl again, "Just because I'm kinder to you than the rest does not mean I won't punish disobedience." You swallowed hard as your heart began to pound with what was to come. You could feel the power dynamic shifting, the game the two of you were playing getting heavier with every passing second.
Sukuna's hand came down sharp against your ass, the loud smack reverberating through the room and slapping you back into reality. A gasp escaped your lips, half in surprise, half in delight at the sting that suddenly fired into your skin. It was a delicious concoction of pain and pleasure, which left you short of breath as you adjusted to the sensations that swirled around you.
"Count," he instructed, his voice firm, yet laced with underlying humour. "Loudly. I want to hear you."
"One," you exhaled the word as it tumbled from your lips, your heart racing wildly as you fought to steady it. The thrill of it all, mixed with your need for his approval, had you wanting each strike more than the last.
Sukuna's hand lingered on the curve of your ass for a moment before falling again in a sharp slap, the sound echoing off stone walls. You gasped again, a mixture of shock and thrill racing through you as the sting blossomed into a warm ache.
“Two,” you gasped, as you fought against the swell of emotions within you.
He lifted his hand, but this time he held back just before the strike, making you tense in anticipation. The sudden hesitation had you bracing for impact, but then he only gently smoothed his palm flat against your skin, teasing you with his warmth.
But before you could even acknowledge it, a sudden one came down on your other ass cheek.
“Three,” you managed to say, voice trembling slightly, the sensation catching you off guard as he switched up the rhythm.
“Good,” he replied, and the next strike came almost immediately after, catching you off guard. “Four!” you exclaimed, the sound of his hand meeting your skin sending shockwaves through your body.
He continued this pattern, alternating between sharp slaps and moments of tension where he would simply tease you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Sometimes, he would deliver a strike that felt harder than the last, and other times he’d pull back, letting you feel only the ghost of his hand as your body quivered in anticipation.
You felt yourself teetering on the brink of overwhelming sensations as you counted up to ten, each strike igniting a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through your body. Each impact left you breathless, the rhythm of his hand striking you creating a melody of desire that echoed in your mind.
“Eleven” you finally gasped, the word escaping your lips as you savoured the ache that lingered in your skin.
Sukuna paused, letting the silence stretch between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, assessing and possessive. The air was thick with tension, and you could sense the power dynamics shifting once more.
“Are you sorry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, sending a thrill down your spine.
You bit your lip, a mix of defiance and longing swirling within you as you processed his question. The sharp sting of his earlier strikes still pulsed against your skin. The heat emanating from your skin, a reminder of your rebelliousness, yet the way he held you—firm, possessive—made your heart race with exhilaration.
“Sorry?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You could see the smirk playing on his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. The challenge was palpable; he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge your submission in a way that would give him satisfaction. Yet all that came out of your mouth was…
“I don’t know yet-”
“Do you even know what you want?” he pressed, his voice smooth and taunting. “Because I can give you everything, but you seem intent on making this harder for yourself.”
“Do you want my approval?” he asked, his voice a sultry caress that made your heart race. The question hung between you, laden with implications that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know I could give it to you if you just admit what you truly want.”
As if sensing the conflict within you, he slowly guided you off his lap, the absence of his warmth leaving you yearning for more. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the limbo of desire and pride, before he leaned back slightly, a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, the authority in his voice making it impossible to resist.
The command was a double-edged sword, igniting a rush of eagerness and vulnerability in your chest. There was something intoxicating about being at his mercy, and even as the thought of submission sent pangs of uncertainty through you, the need for his love and approval surged stronger than your pride.
You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy on you as you knelt before him, the coolness of the floor contrasting sharply with the warmth that enveloped your body. Sukuna watched you, a predator sizing up his prey, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny as you knelt there, heart racing and breath shallow.
“Good girl” he praised, the words wrapping around you like silk, soothing yet igniting a fire in your core. “This is where you belong—submissive, yearning for my affection.” His voice was low and sultry, and you could hear the satisfaction lacing his tone as he took in your posture, his eyes gleaming with approval. “But you have to earn it. Tell me what you want.”
You hesitated, the vulnerability of your position mingling with your desire to please him. “I want… I want your approval,” you murmured, the admission spilling from your lips almost involuntarily. “Your love”
His smirk widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction that made your heart flutter. “And how do you plan to earn it?” he asked, his voice smooth and seductive, coaxing you into deeper submission. “Show me how desperate you really are for my love.”
With deliberate slowness, he shrugged off his robe, letting the luxurious fabric cascade down his broad shoulders and pool around his waist. The movement revealed the powerful contours of his body, muscles coiling under his skin, each movement exuding confidence and dominance. You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in your throat as you drank in the sight of him—strikingly captivating and impossibly alluring. His cock sprung free, dauntingly big, thick and girthy with a prominent vein running along the underside of it.
As you positioned yourself at his feet, your heart raced with anticipation. You looked up at him, and in that moment, you could see the mixture of dominance and desire reflected in his gaze. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and the thought of it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you.
“Go on,” he urged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “show me just how much you crave my approval.” The challenge ignited something deep within you, urging you to submit fully to his will.
You reached forward, taking his cock in your hand at first, feeling the heat radiate from it as your fingers wrapped around his length. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, awakening every nerve ending and amplifying the intensity of your need. You could feel his gaze boring into you, an intoxicating mix of desire and power, and the weight of it only fueled your eagerness.
Sukuna watched you intently, his expression a mixture of approval and amusement as you began to stroke him slowly.
You leaned in closer, your breath hitching as you pressed soft kisses along his shaft, savouring the taste of his skin and the intoxicating musk that enveloped you. With each kiss, you felt a thrill of exhilaration at your submission, and the thought of earning his approval made you more eager to please.
“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice low and demanding.
You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, and it spurred you on as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him with fervent devotion. Every now and then you’d pull back and focus on the tip, only to resume taking his cock in as deep as you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—his dominance and your willingness to submit completely to him.
As you continued, you could feel his hand find its way to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he guided your movements, controlling the pace with a delicious authority. The mix of his control and your surrender sent waves of heat pooling in your core, and you could feel the ache of longing building within you.
The warmth of his body radiated against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you as you leaned in further, taking him deeper. Each careful stroke of your tongue was met with a soft, approving grunt from Sukuna, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with just the right amount of pressure. You revelled in the way he took charge, the way he made you feel both desired and utterly submissive.
“Such a good little pet,” he praised, his voice smooth yet commanding, sending tremors of excitement through you. “You’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”
You couldn’t deny it, the words igniting something primal within you, and you nodded as best you could with him filling your mouth. The mixture of your eagerness and his control heightened the stakes, pushing you to give him everything you had.
His hips shifted slightly, guiding your rhythm as he pressed deeper, the sensation making your head spin. You could feel the tension building within you, a mix of longing and excitement as you became more attuned to his desires. The slick warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and each movement you made was deliberate, an offering of your devotion.
“More,” he demanded, his voice thick with pleasure as he tilted his head back slightly. “I want to hear you.”
You moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, eliciting another low growl from deep within him. The noise made your core throb with need, the desperate ache for him only growing stronger as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your actions.
He couldn’t help but want to set the pace himself, the next time you went to pull back, he guided your head further, forcing you to take him deeper until your nose was pressed up against his pubes. You sputtered, unable to stop yourself from gagging as he held you there for a moment before pulling back and letting you pull off and catch your breath. You coughed a little, a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips.
His hand tightened in your hair, gently pulling your head up for a moment so he could meet your gaze. “Look at me,” he commanded, his eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”
As you surrendered fully to him, the heat pooling in your core became unbearable, a delicious reminder of just how much you craved his approval. The world outside faded further, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you—his power and your submission—and you knew that you would do anything to keep that connection alive.
You gazed up at him, his commanding presence making your heart race. As you took him deeper, this time by your own choice, a rush of exhilaration surged through you, and with a playful impulse, you let your teeth graze lightly against his length. The sensation was meant to tease, to elicit a reaction, but the moment you did, a sharp intake of breath escaped him, followed by a sudden yank of your hair that pulled you away.
Sukuna’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and warning, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours like a steel trap. “What did I say about behaving?” His voice was low, tinged with authority, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire laced within it. You felt a thrill race through you, the tension in the air thickening.
You looked up at him, trying to read the storm brewing in his eyes. His grip on your hair was firm yet controlled, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sharpness of his warning sent a jolt through you, igniting a mix of fear and excitement.
“I... I’m sorry,” you stammered, your breath shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Do that once more and I won’t touch you again, I’ll give you to one of my men. Do you want that?”
The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved. You could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a deep-seated need for his approval. The thought of disappointing him was far more terrifying than the idea of punishment.
“Now,” he said, releasing his hold on your hair but still leaning forward, his presence overwhelming, “Show me that you can be the good girl I know you can be.” There was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip, a challenge wrapped in a promise.
Nodding slightly, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the delicate balance you had to maintain. You could do this. You could earn his affection and approval. You leaned in closer once more, eyes locked onto his, feeling the pulse of desire thrumming between you.
With renewed determination, you took him back into your mouth, moving slowly at first, allowing your tongue to swirl around him in languid strokes. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent understanding that every movement you made was a testament to your willingness to submit completely to him. You focused on doing it right, savouring the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched as you worked your mouth around him.
You couldn’t help but grin slightly as you ran your tongue along his shaft.
“You think this is funny?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips with a possessive touch. “You think you’re in control here?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, simmering intensity that made your pulse quicken.
Before you could respond, Sukuna yanked you up, pulling you to your feet with a force that left your heart racing. He spun you around again, pressing your back against the wall, his chest flush against your front as his hands roamed over your body. The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with the mix of pleasure and dominance that radiated from him.
“Let’s see how long you can hold on to that defiance,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the full weight of his cock pressing against your stomach. “You’ll break eventually. You always do.”
Your body responded instinctively to his dominance as you clenched your thighs together. Sukuna was testing your limits, pushing you to the brink of submission, and you knew that the game you had started was far from over. The tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.
He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand as his other hand travelled down your body, his touch rough and demanding. His smirk widening as he saw the way your chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, your defiance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "To be at my mercy? To feel my power over you?"
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with desire as Sukuna’s fingers danced over across your breasts, playfully rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them slightly, teasing you but never giving you the satisfaction you craved. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him, the control he held over you absolute.
"You don’t get to decide when I reward you," he grumbled, "I do."
Sukuna’s hand tightened around your wrists, his grip firm but not painful as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me who you belong to," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, filled with an authority that made your heart race.
You swallowed hard, your defiance wavering under the weight of his dominance. "You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. "I belong to you."
Sukuna’s lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and demanding, filled with the intensity of his dominance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as he claimed your mouth with brutal precision. His hands explored your curves, gripping your hips, your thighs, your ass that was still sore, as if he was staking his claim on every inch of you.
With each deliberate breath, you steadied yourself, your heart racing as you mentally prepared for the brutal onslaught of his strength. You knew what was coming—the way he would thrust into you with a force that left you gasping, the raw power behind every movement. The pleasure and pain that would mingle into a heady mixture, overwhelming your senses until there was nothing left but him.
The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for the release you knew only Sukuna could give. His fingers trailed down your back, a possessive touch that claimed you inch by inch, as if reminding you that you were his to do with as he pleased.
And then, without warning or any preparation he thrust into you with a brutal force that knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, struggling to maintain your balance as Sukuna’s body slammed into yours, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the chamber.
You were thankful that seeing him like this had you already soaked, else that stretch would’ve been a lot more painful with his size.
He didn’t hold back. Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping. The intensity of it was overwhelming, his movements claiming you completely, pushing you past the point of pleasure and into a realm where pain and ecstasy became one.
Your body rocked against the wall, your breath coming in ragged, desperate pants as Sukuna’s pace only quickened. The sheer force of his movements left you clinging to the stone for support, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. He hooked a hand under your leg as he lifted you up slightly to get a better angle, your walls clenching around his cock every time he drove it in.
"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Already falling apart."
His hand tightened on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. "You’re my favourite," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "So don’t give me reason to neglect you."
Every punishing thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, building higher and higher until it was almost too much to bear. The heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect, brutal sync, the rhythm of your connection raw and primal.
"You feel that?" Sukuna’s voice was a low, dangerous growl in your ear as he brought his other hand to your belly, his hand over the bulge he was causing. "You will never feel this anywhere else.”
He drove into you with even greater force, his body demanding your submission with every movement. And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch inside you, your mind blanked, consumed by the sheer intensity of what he was doing to you.
Sukuna’s thrusts became more brutal, more relentless with each passing second. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, your body barely able to keep up with the raw, savage force of him. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, and his hand on your leg, the only thing holding you upright as Sukuna claimed you with an aggression that sent shivers through your entire being.
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, pulling you into him with every movement, demanding your full surrender. The overwhelming pleasure mingled with a burning ache that left you trembling, each sensation more intense than the one before.
"Is this what you wanted?" Sukuna growled, his voice thick with both anger and lust. "You wanted to test me? Thought you could defy me, hmm?"
His tone was sharp, laced with danger, and each word only made your pulse race faster. You could feel the fury in his movements, the way he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. Your mind spun, the pleasure so overwhelming it was hard to think straight, but through the haze of sensation, you realised the truth: you’d pushed him too far.
"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of his body slamming into yours. "I'm sorry, Sukuna… I didn’t mean—"
Before you could finish, he thrust into you harder, his hand yanking your hair back so that your head snapped up, forcing you to meet his eyes as he leaned over you. His gaze burned with fury and satisfaction, and the sight of it made your stomach flip.
"Oh, you’re sorry now, are you?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "Begging for forgiveness already? Pathetic."
His hips slammed into yours again, the brutal pace leaving you reeling, the sheer force of his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your fingers digging into the stone wall as you tried to brace yourself against the onslaught of pleasure and pain.
"Please," you gasped, your voice trembling as his relentless thrusts made it hard to speak. "I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—"
But Sukuna wasn’t interested in your apologies. If anything, your desperate pleas only seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hand snaked around your throat, gripping it just tightly enough to make you aware of his control, his dominance over you absolute.
"You think I care about your sorry little words?" Sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think an apology is going to stop me now?"
His grip on your neck tightened just enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your body responding, the ache between your legs growing more intense with every punishing thrust. His pace was faster now, the rhythm of his hips brutal, leaving you no time to catch your breath as he took you harder, faster.
Your body was on fire, each thrust pushing you further into a dizzying spiral of pleasure that made it impossible to think of anything but him. Every time you tried to form words, they were swallowed by gasps and cries of pleasure, your mind barely able to keep up with the sheer intensity of what Sukuna was doing to you.
"I’m sorry," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pounded into you, the force of his movements overwhelming every sense. "I… I won’t disobey again… I promise…"
Sukuna’s hand moved from your throat to your waist, pulling you back into him with a bruising grip as he sped up even more, the wet sound of your bodies crashing together filling the air. His breathing was ragged now, and you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his body enveloped you, completely dominating you.
"Is that so?" he snarled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you harder. "You’re sorry now… but it’s too late for that."
His hips slammed into yours with a ferocity that made your legs shake, your entire body trembling as he took you mercilessly. You could barely keep yourself upright, every muscle in your body tensing with the effort of staying grounded under the relentless onslaught of his thrusts, your pussy welcoming him in with every movement of his cock, it was embarrassing how much your body betrayed you.
"I’ll make sure you remember this," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his pace became almost punishing. "Next time you think about disobeying me, you’ll remember exactly what happens."
Sukuna's grip tightened as he drove into you with merciless abandon, his pace unrelenting as your body quaked beneath him. The overwhelming sensation was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of release. But just as you felt that familiar surge of pleasure coil tighter, ready to snap, Sukuna suddenly pulled back, leaving you teetering on the brink, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss.
Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure was ripped away from you. He slowed his movements, rolling his hips with an agonisingly deliberate pace, teasing you with just enough sensation to keep you trembling but never enough to send you over.
"S-Sukuna," you gasped, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. "Please... please, I—"
He cut you off with a low, mocking laugh, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still, his chest pressed against your back. The heat of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he leaned down to speak directly into your ear.
"You really think you deserve to come after all that?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "After the way you acted? You don’t get to have what you want."
You whimpered again, your body trembling with frustration as Sukuna slowed his thrusts to a maddening crawl, each movement deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge without ever granting you the release you so desperately craved.
His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, spreading you wider as he pushed his cock deeper inside, filling you completely with slow, torturous strokes. Your breath came in shallow gasps, every nerve in your body strung tight with anticipation, but no matter how hard you tried to chase that elusive climax, Sukuna remained in control.
"I’m the one who decides when you get to come," he growled, his voice dark and commanding. "And you haven’t earned it today."
He increased the pace only slightly, enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, but still holding you just at the edge of satisfaction. You could feel him nearing his own release, his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts more forceful, but even as his body tensed with his impending climax, he refused to let you finish.
"Look at you," he mocked, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Begging for something you’re not even worthy of."
Sukuna’s rhythm grew faster, his hips snapping into you with an intensity that sent you reeling. The heat between your bodies built to a fever pitch, his ragged breaths mingling with your gasps as you clung to the edge of control. You could feel yourself spiralling toward the brink of release, your entire body tensing, desperate to fall over that edge. But just as the pleasure began to crest, Sukuna let out a low, guttural growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak.
With one last deep thrust, he groaned, his body stilling as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips tightening with possessive force. His cum shot out, thick streams of white painting your walls, a neverending load it felt like with how prolonged it was. His breath came in hot, uneven pants against your skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his climax. You could feel the heat of him inside you, the weight of his release, but the moment your own release seemed within reach, Sukuna stopped moving completely.
You whimpered, the need still burning fiercely in your core, your body quaking with the intensity of being left teetering on the edge. You tried to grind against him, desperate for that final push, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place. The realisation hit you hard — he really wasn’t going to let you finish.
"Sukuna... please," you gasped, your voice strained, body trembling with unfulfilled need. "I-I need to—"
He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look down at you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, you thought I’d change my mind?" His voice was thick with amusement, utterly unapologetic. "Not this time."
You moaned in frustration, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of his rough pace, the pleasure so close yet just out of reach. Sukuna’s grip on your hips remained firm as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.
"You're lucky I let you have this much," he growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before misbehaving."
He pulled out slowly, his absence leaving you feeling unbearably empty, your body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. He watched you squirm beneath him, clearly revelling in your frustration, a twisted smile playing on his lips.
Sukuna’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he loomed over you, watching the frustration play across your features. You could feel your body trembling with the intensity of everything left unresolved, a quiet whine escaping your throat as you tried, one last time, to reach for him. But before you could make any move, he shifted, his hand coming to rest atop your head.
The touch was shockingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness you’d just endured, as he stroked your hair almost… fondly. You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face, but Sukuna’s expression was one of twisted amusement.
"Don’t pout," he murmured, still smirking as he patted your head in that condescending way. "I’m not so heartless as to leave you completely unsatisfied." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was an underlying promise there—something dark and teasing.
You bit your lip, your heart still racing, unsure what he meant. Did he intend to give you an orgasm after all? Yet instead of returning his hands to your body, he let them slide away, leaving you even more bewildered.
With a casual shrug, Sukuna stood, towering over you, clearly savouring the sight of your needy, trembling form sprawled before him. As he moved toward the door, you caught his last remark.
"I’ll let you sleep in my chambers tonight," he tossed over his shoulder, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider that a kindness."
His words hung in the air, thick with his typical arrogance. Sleeping in his chambers meant you’d be close, within reach of him, and perhaps he’d allow more later. But it also meant the control still belonged to him, and you would have to wait, to endure.
He looked back at you once more, that cruel, satisfied grin still etched on his face. "See? I’m not entirely heartless," he teased, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you to gather yourself, the heat of your desire still thrumming in your veins. His presence lingered even after he was gone, the promise of what might come next hanging over you like a heavy, tantalising shadow.
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books-and-omens · 1 year ago
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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.
Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 
As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.
And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.
Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.
And just—
Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.
But the ball is still different.
We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)
I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?
In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).
And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 
In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.
There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.
GOD the ball is so dark.
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fragmentedblade · 11 months ago
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The more I think about it the more intrigued I am about the future development of Ruan Mei
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shrimpybbq · 2 months ago
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Gwayne Hightower corrupting his sweet Targaryen niece!
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His young niece is sent to Oldtown with her younger brother Daeron, much to Gwayne’s delight.
Though she’s a Targaryen, she looks so much like her mother and Gwayne is simply infatuated with her. His niece was Helaena’s twin, the girl much more lucid and rooted in the earth than her sister.
Gwayne who takes her under his wing, allowing the pair to form a strong bond as she learns more about Oldtown and the history of the Hightower’s.
Gwayne watches as his sweet niece seems to grow even more beautiful as she’s older. He notices the attention she draws and the leering gazes men level at her. It makes something in his chest burn.
His niece was expected to return to Kings Landing when she became of age, and yet the time has passed and her mother and father have not sent for her yet. Gwayne comforts his sweet niece though he’s secretly happy and enjoying her presence remaining longer.
Gwayne finds it more and more difficult to resist his niece as she clings to him more in her sadness, his body growing warm at the idea of taking her for himself. He reasons with himself: if her mother married her other daughter to her full-blooded brother then surely an uncle is a less egregious pairing. Gwayne’s been influenced too much by the Targaryen views at this point.
Gwayne seizes the opportunity to corrupt his niece once and for all when she cries desperately in her arms. She’s sobbing about how no man will ever want her as a wife if she never returns to the capital, how her family do not love her, how her mother sent away.
He’s taking her teary face in his hands softly, brushing her hair back from her face as he looks into her wide eyes. The heavy kiss he places on her lips has her momentarily shocked before she tentatively responds. Gwayne’s slowly guiding her lips in the way he likes, revelling in the feeling as her fingers begin threading through his hair.
Gwayne doesn’t fuck her straight away, no, he waits and waits until his niece is so dependant on him, hanging off his every word. She’s visiting the sept with him each day, dining with him and letting him kiss her as much as he wants.
But once he does, there is no one in the world that he would let take her away from him. He would show Otto the bloodied sheets from their coupling and watch his face fall in horror, disgusted at the sullying of a proper Targaryen princess. Otto didn’t think he had it in him, not to do something so vile.
Gwayne gets his way and soon his pretty little niece is standing in front of him in the Sept at Oldtown, exchanging vows with him.
Alicent is beside herself. Her sweet daughter corrupted and defiled by her own uncle, someone she trusted her with.
Gwayne and his new wife are the picture of marital bliss, always giggling and mumbling to each other. The maids in the keep at Oldtown are always giggling as they walk past their chambers; the gasps and groans escaping enough to make a grown man blush.
Gwayne fucks his wife good. I said it. He’s a munch too and 100% makes his wife cum at least once before getting into the main action. He’s got his niece wrapped around his finger and anytime he wants her, he has her.
It’s no surprise when the Red Keep receives a raven announcing the pregnancy of the Targaryen princess, a babe expected no more than 9 months after their wedding (they got down to business right away!).
(Aegon’s giggling at the rage colouring his mothers expression. He loves seeing her so unsettled and makes a note to tease her AS MUCH as possible.)
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