#skillfull

[skillpundit]

Knowledge Has A Beginning But Not End.

Skillpundit | India's No.1 | Learning | Communication Skills.

like programming,designing, problem solving , general information about our country, reasoning,mental ability etc. SkillPundit is world's best platform to show your talent. Which results in helping you build a professional career in this fast moving world."

[toaverse]

Hey Disney, instead of wasting your money on making soulless live-action remakes, milking Toy Story for all it's worth and race-swapping iconic characters for "representation", here are some fairytales and scrapped movies you can adapt and un-cancel.

The One-Handed Girl; A Swahili fairytale about the trials a girl goes through as she deals with the unfettered greed of her older brother.

The Cat and the Cradle; A Dutch legend about a baby and a cat floating in a cradle after a city named Kinderdijk floods.

Tawhaki; A Maori fairytale about the demigod Tawhaki going above and beyond to be reunited with his Sky-fairy wife. (Edith Howes’ version here)

The Sisters Envious of Their Cadette; An Arabic fairytale about two sisters plotting their younger sister's demise.

The Four Skillful Brothers; A German fairytale about four brothers each learning a different trade of skills, and learn to work together once their father puts them to the test.

Gigantic; A planned animated musical film by Disney that ended up being cancelled. It was suppose to be about Jack discovering a world of giants hidden within clouds and befriending an 11 year old giant named Inma who treats him like a living doll.

Newt; A planned animated movie by Pixar that also ended up being cancelled for multiple reasons. It was suppose to be about two blue-footed newts who can’t stand each other being forced by science to save their species from extinction.

Don’t be afraid to correct me if I got anything wrong. And feel free to add to the list if you want!

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

made a stamp without slicing my hand open and bleeding everywhere B) that’s like 2 in a row that didn’t result in scarring B)

[whoslaurapalmer]

back from the theater!!!!!! honestly one of the best parts was that the cast was teenagers and the audience was very obviously and very loudly a great deal of their friends who had a GREAT time seeing them on stage. including those theater kids who sat in front of us, it was so cute and so touching 💖💖💖💖💖

[allmyandroids]

can he PLEASE strangle me with his hands 😩

[xtruss]

Maki Yamamoto Found Herself Captivated by the Beauty of Palestinian Tatreez Ever Since Her Initial Encounter Two Decades Ago, and After Her First Visit to Palestine's Occupied West Bank, Began Skillfull Incorporating the Indigenous Cross-stitch Embroidery into Japan's Traditional Clothing, the Kimono.

[vonlipvig]

more prototyping of these supporting two since i changed genres after i originally envisioned them oops

anyway, agents bruckmann and lowe are on the case (aka barbie and ken, abuse of power edition 👍🏻).

[unhonestlymirror]

I usually don't put any signature because when I do - somehow, it always ends up looking like this:

[skillpundit]

Learning To Grow In Grace And Knowledge.

Skillpundit | India's No.1 | Learning | Communication Skills.

like programming,designing, problem solving , general information about our country, reasoning,mental ability etc. SkillPundit is world's best platform to show your talent. Which results in helping you build a professional career in this fast moving world."

[vaulttecvevo]

dune prophecy isnt very good :/

[lawsondanver]

Noah Zatzkin | highly skillfull Stockholder

When it comes to finance, economics, and accounting, there are few experts who can match the knowledge and experience of Noah Zatzkin. Over the years, he has developed a reputation for transforming businesses by helping individuals and enterprises grow and increase their profits through a range of profitable strategies. Let's take a closer look at what makes him such a valuable asset to the business world. read more;-

[mari-lair]

Will the Stargazer get a comb at some point? That situation looks worse than normal. (Then again they can't really see that. He might be bothered about their hair being against him tho)

The researcher didn't own a comb in their house/study, they straight up forgot such a thing existed, so the most they do is brush it with their hand, only to mess it up a second later by pulling at their hair. They are used to the feel.

Once they were dragged out, he was quickly introduced to a comb, and they tried out! More to 'fit in' than out of curiosity so he just hates it.

They brushed their hair properly once! And once was enough for them.

Mirabelle does eventually brush their hair though! And she is far more gentle and skillfull, she does a good job.

[gyaruhana]

Omg can we get some more player 120 (Cho Hyun-ju) sfw n nsfw headcanons where shes protective n dominant? Pls n thank uu I loved ur last work w her🩷

Cho Hyun-ju/Player 120 - Headcannons (sfw + nsfw)

Synopsis: more Hyun-ju headcannons !

A/N: ask and i shall serve !!

Warnings: smut content

SFW:

➠ i'm immediately jumping into the scene in the last episode where she was locked in bc holy moly she was so hot.. ➠ wouldn't let you go with her unless you were well-trained with a gun and able to handle it ➠ even then she's always keeping you close behind her ➠ When she's not shooting at the guards, she's looking at you to make sure you're doing okay ➠ if you run out of ammo, she doesn't hesitate to give you one of her magazines ➠ If you end up panicking she's immediately there to distract you from the gunshots and reassuring you that everything is fine and you'll both be okay ➠ and you both will be because she refuses to die or to let you die ➠ not when you both had already made plans for Thailand after you get out of here ➠ On a lighter note !! ➠ most doting girl ever ➠ does give you some of her food sometimes if you're feeling hungry ➠ If someone insults you, she's instantly at your side to defend you ➠ she HATES people thinking they can treat you badly ➠ do play with her hair she loves it sm ➠ expect her to hold your hand a lot because she's not afraid of PDA ➠ late night talks after lights out which sometimes just turns into staring into each others eyes ➠ so many quiet "I love you"'s whispered during those talks too ➠ likes when you cup her face in your hands honestly ➠ you guys are always talking about WHEN you make it out of this place and never if ➠ so so many plans for Thailand ➠ After the death of Young-mi, she definitely needed your comfort and got so much more protective of you ➠ if you go to the bathrooms, she's right there behind you ➠ you're basically never alone during the games ➠ Absolutely fights for you ➠ Overall, so protective of you and not afraid to put someone in their place if they disrespect you

"I have a few nice places to live in Thailand saved on my phone. I can show you them when we get out," you speak from your bed as you turn to face her. She smiles slightly at your words and nods her head. You both had been planning for Thailand since forever and now the dream seemed so much closer with the money you could take home. Even if some people died, neither of you would be next. Not as long as you were there to protect each other and survive this hellish place together. "I'd like that,"

NSFW:

➠ Again, she's gentle. ➠ not a big fan of having public sex so she often takes you to the bathroom with her if you guys are in the mood ➠ most skillfull pussy eater icl ➠ she knows exactly how to make you feel good ➠ gentle and meaningful kisses that convey so much love ➠ she's just a gentle cutie ➠ always whispering praises to you ➠ baby, my girl, sweetheart - literally every sweet pet name in the book ➠ refuses to be rough with you because she wants to help you relax and be calm from the stress of the games and the death ➠ always kisses you after making you cum on her fingers ➠ which happens quite quickly honestly.. ➠ she's just a little too good at fingering you.. ➠ she's practically memorized every part of you though that's why ➠ encourages volume and expressing how you feel ➠ she bases her pace on your facial expressions because she's ridiculously observant ➠ Overall, gentle girlfriend who knows how to please you<3

"You're close, yeah?" She says quietly as she looks up at you, her fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you quickly. The two of you didn't have a lot of time as the guard waiting just outside the bathroom likely wouldn't let you stay for long. That's why she was so quick with her fingers. The last thing she'd want is for you to be left without a release. "Go ahead. Cum on my fingers, my love,"

[mihii-i]

Could I have a fluff-smut Arlecchino x fem reader one-shot? Something with aftercare/mostly aftercare

Aftercare is so underrated in smutshots :(

water of affection.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, fluff, fingering, praise. sesbian lex, squirting, mention of arlecchino’s real name GIRLS KISSING WOAH, guys this art of arle is making me crawl on the ceiling again, have yall SEEN that art of her with her hair down oh my f, wlw stuffs yippee, this turned out good, not proofread.

A/N: i agree we absolutely need more aftercare cause a lack of that doesn’t make the boombayah feel like emotional yk- also school is starting tomorrow so if I end up being dead yk why 🕯️

Quiet moans drawled out of your feverish lips as you squirmed against Arlecchino’s fingers parting your cunt. Her hand was snaked between your waist as she buried herself knuckles deep within you, only pushing further to feel your velvety walls tighten against her digits. Filthy sounds of Arlecchino’s fingers pumping inside you echoed through the room, only serving to add more eroticism to the already heated moment, and heightening your arousal as her sharp nails raked along your sweet spot so sinfully.

Your breaths were ragged and uneven as beads of sweat dribbled down your flushed skin. Each quick movement of her fingers curling up, and her knuckles dragging along your pussy only drove you further over the edge as your gasps heightened in pitch with her skillfull motions. Arlecchino was the only woman who could ever make you feel this good. No matter what.

Not only that, she was the only one who could spiral you into madness, with both her presence and her performance in bed. No matter what you were doing, whenever you were in Arlecchino’s presence, you always felt warm and fuzzy inside, knowing for a fact that you’d cherish her with all you have for as long as you live. Whether it was her fucking you into the sheets with intense passion and fervor, or just her sitting beside you in comforting silence, you knew for a fact that your heart beat for her, and her only.

Her fingers parted your cunt as you let out a sharp whine in response, falling back to press your spine flush against her chest as your sweat adorned bodies stuck to each other with a thick fog of heat circling the two of you in the moment. You felt a piling knot of anticipation build up in your lower abdomen at her consistent movements, bucking your hips forward as your glassy eyes flickered over to her thighs hugged around your waist.

Body situated between her legs, you continued to grind your hips further into her hand as Arlecchino’s lips trailed a pattern of gentle kisses along your arched shoulder, free hand digging into your tense thighs to hold your squirming self.

“A-Arle- I’m gonna..” you babbled in a whiny voice, the stimulation driving you insane as her fingers scissored inside your leaking cunt. She simply nodded against your body pressed to her front, her fingers curling to massage that one soft spot buried inside your pussy. The sensations clouded your mind with an intense wash of ecstasy, making you detach from the present in pure pleasure as your juices coated her fingers, breathing shallow and throaty upon coming down from your high.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, your head draped low to collect some of your spent energy from the roughly passionate moment with your girlfriend. You let out a high pitched gasp of surprise when the warmth of her skin circled your waist, drawing you in against her chest once more. Arlecchino hugged you against her chest, arms fastened around you like a vice as she buried her face into your hair to take in your sweet scent.

“Are you alright, dear?” She questioned, her cold gaze fixated on you with an added softness, as if she was purely focused on your comfort and safety in her arms. Snaking your hand behind to rest upon her nape, you lightly pushed the back of her neck to gesture her to lean down further onto you, which she did. You simply smiled, giving a worn out nod as Arlecchino gently ran her thumb up and down your hunched up shoulders, nails lightly dragging up and down against your still sensitive skin.

As you rested within your lover’s shielding grasp comfortably, the exchange lacked words, yet harbored a sense of solace between the two of you. The sudden movement of Arlecchino shuffling away from you to stand up almost made you grumble out in annoyance, flashing a glare at her to signal that you wanted her to hold you once more. She only grasped a pillow to situate behind your head, her naked body still on full display so casually as you were flustered enough to turn the other direction while gripping the pillow.

“I’ll start you a bath, (Name). Just hold on.”

You only responded with a small nod, beginning to get comfortable against the cotton enveloping the sides of your head as your girlfriend headed into the bathroom. Rushes of water muffled through the bathroom door before your bed, inciting a sort of tranquility within you as you thought back on how much you truly cared for the Fatui harbinger.

It’s as if you were trapped in an endless void, vision blackened as nothingness enveloped your sights. Yet Arlecchino parted a brightened path for you to step on, a faint light in her unfeeling gaze that guided you out of the shackles of a dark void. Every gesture of hers, whether it was minuscule or grand, surged a fluffy feeling through your heart. Her thoughtful actions, along with the way she loved you with all her heart, caused a strong affection for her to seep into the shell of your beating heart.

The swishes of running water finally ceased, or rather slowed down significantly, making you slowly sit up as to not strain your already tightened muscles anymore. Arlecchino parted the door to reveal herself to you, stepping toward the foot of the bed as the silk covers drooping off the side brushed her ankles. You attempted to sit up, only for you to blink with a hint of embarrassment.

“Arle. I can’t move..” you admitted, averting your eyes as you knew she probably found that hilarious. She only let out a hum of laughter, before instantly reaching under your limp body and curling her arms around your waist, pulling you against her chest once more.

“Better?”

You simply nodded.

Arlecchino firmly kept you hoisted up in her arms as she pushed the door open once more, allowing you to take in the sight of the tub filled with warm water. The soft smell of rose petals lingering in the air tickled your nostrils. The presence of the scent coursed a calm and cozy feeling throughout you, only heightening your comfort further as Arlecchino set you down to sink in the tub.

Warm ripples of water outlined your sunken body below your shoulders, the rippling originating from your body’s location to disperse across the clear water of the tub and disappearing as it reached a scattered rose petal floating in the water. Arlecchino slowly situated herself down into the tub, closing her eyes as she sat in front of you in a comfortable position.

She beckoned you to come closer, arms extended to gesture you into her embrace. You couldn’t refuse such a charming woman, and practically threw yourself into her arms, making her stumble back against the swift splash of water. Arlecchino only gave a rare smile, hugging you against her chest as you two remained soaking in the serenity of the bathtub.

Her gentle kisses scattered across your back and rolled over to your front, soft lips tracing every reddened mark decorating your precious body to soothe any possible ache piling up in your muscles. You only let out a quiet sigh of contentment, relaxing against Arlecchino’s loving touch across your skin.

“You’re so gorgeous, (Name).”

“Mm..you really think so?”

“I know so.”

Your heart nearly soared from those three words alone, head tilting to the side as the hickeys adorning your neck exposed to the cold air. A rose petal slowly floated toward your chest, Arlecchino’s body looming over you as she held you close casting a faint shadow along the outlines of the petal. The rose of your relationship with Arlecchino would never die. No matter how much water you deprive the romantic flower, your love for her would always persist, finding a way to take in the so called water of affection.

“And I know you’re the one I’d love forever, Peruere.”

A/N: wait this fic kinda ate hold on

I was rlly into it when I wrote it so yay it turned out good imo I’m proud of this one :)

I DONT WANNA GO TO SCHOOL LET ME SLEEP.

[viridwns]

Mannequin

TW: Forced relationship, non-consensual kissing/touching, Douma being aight?, mention of gore if you squint, also didn't check grammar or spelling :/

A/N: I am working on so many requests rn, I had to work on one of my own ideas (I saw a dress on pinterest and had to make a story out of it).

"You look like a goddess."

"So beautiful."

"She's ethereal."

"Only the best for Lord Douma."

"This shows too much skin!"

You look at yourself in the mirror, turning your body every whichway to assess the dress (or rather a piece of cloth) that has been put on you.

You felt naked.

Douma kidnapping you to his cult wasn't something new. Especially after he was sent out on a mission did he just long for alone time with you. His followers taking you, dressing you, doing your hair wasn't new to you either.

But being put in this?!

Yeah, this was something new.

They never put you in a dress so revealing.

It was a strapless dress, with sleeves flowing over your lower arm, attached with a silver chain to the main part. Your top was made out of the same silver. It barely covered your breasts. You hoped the thin closing around your neck wouldn't break. The silver was further attached to the bottom of your dress. A waistband sitting snug on your hips, a sheer cloth billowing from it, and stopping just above your ankles. Aside from your lower arms and from the waist down, you were without coverage. Your only shield that protected the outing of your breasts to the rest of the world was the flimsy silver chain wrapping around your upper half.

No way you were going to wear this in front of the demon who ripped apart countless of kimono's off you. He couldn't even see your figure in those. You don't want to find out what he'd do when you were practically bare.

You let your fingers trace the silver; these chains wouldn't even survive a slight tug from him.

"Our seamstress worked tirelessly on this. Researching the western culture without Lord Douma's knowledge was a difficult task. Plus the seamstress had to start over many times; the fabric is so flimsy it ripped multiple times!" A woman looked at you via the mirror with begging eyes. You felt a pang of guilt shoot through your gut at her words.

"It's not that I don't like it! it's the most beautiful piece of clothing I ever laid my eyes on. It's just that...It's so immodest!"

You turn your head away from the mirror, getting embarrassed from seeing your form in such a state in front of all these women.

Counter arguments started to bounce off the walls. You shook your head.

"I'm not going to prance around in nothing but see through fabric and chains!"

"You must! you're Lord Douma's spouse, send by God himself to keep him company-"

You waved your hands in an attempt to cut her off. You didn't need them to obsess over the made up story Douma fed them. You were not God send, and you were definitely not here to keep the demon company.

You wished you could tell them the truth, but that would only result in carnage; The pile of corpses Douma left for you to find serving as a efficient warning the first time he brought you here.

You were never going to tattle on his secret again.

The arguing continued, a hand already pressed on you shoulder so you would sit down.

"Just let me do your hair first okay? If you really don't like it we'll dress you in different clothing.

You reluctantly gave in. Knowing that their say was final anyway. You can't even remember the last time your opinion was taken into serious account.

It's always about pleasing the demons', never about what you would like.

You watched the skillfull hand of the woman behind you doing your hair in the dressing table mirror. She was braiding it into a crown around your head, letting the back stay the way it is. She intertwined some white roses into the braid; it looked like you were wearing a flower crown.

Even though you did find yourself pretty in these fancy clothes and hairstyles; you couldn't enjoy yourself. You were treated like a dress up doll for the demons', only being allowed to look pretty for them, never for yourself.

You had forgotten the giddy emotion you got when being gifted a new dress and twirling in it in front of the mirror for the first time.

Another sigh, another careless smile from one of the followers.

"You couldn't look more beautiful. Lord Douma will ravish in the sight of you." The women all agreed in unison, complimenting you on your beauty.

You turned around to face them, a small smile on your lips.

"I will make sure to praise your work in front of Douma." A wave of excited and thankful shrieks came over you.

Douma tended to let the women you like live longer so you can enjoy their company more when you're here. You had to mention them in front of him.

A male follower came rushing into the room. The women all forming a protective circle around you-you were only to be seen by Douma's eyes.

"It's almost sunset, come quick." He rambled, waving to everyone to come with him. Urgency laced his words.

It was time for Douma to give the message of the Lord to his people.

Prick.

You stood up, relief slowly eating away the nerves that had build up in your stomach.

Sunset also meant that Akaza could go outside and get you out of here.

One thing about Douma is that he never asked if he can take you with him, he just does.

And hell be upon him when the rest finds out you're missing, coincidentally at the same time Douma isn't present either.

Akaza is always the one to get you, even if he can't stand up against Douma, he somehow always gets Douma to give you over.

Maybe it's because of the threatening shadow of Kokushibo always leaning over Akaza from behind; piercing his three pair of eyes into Douma's soul (if he even had one, you were fairly certain he didn't).

You feel the corners of your lips tug upwards at the sight of Douma being beheaded.

Maybe if you puppy-dog-eye Muzan enough when you get back he'll take away Douma's mouth for a bit. You could use a bit of peace and quiet.

You didn't notice you were being lead to the main hall, so lost in your daydreams that you only noticed where you were when a heavy silence deafened your ears.

The hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you, gaping at you, had you realize what you were wearing, or what you weren't wearing. Your arms slipped over your figure in an attempt to keep as much hidden as you could. Your futile attempt in creating a shield for yourself was met with two female followers grabbing both your hands and forcing them to your side, keeping you in place with their determination to show you to their Lord.

Your eyes were pinned forward, gaze focused on the tall figure slowly rising upright from his cushion.

Douma looked the same as he ever did. Same hair, same clothes, same cursed eyes and his trusty hat.

The only thing different was that his expression was...well not his usual 'grin'.

His eyes were wide, mouth closed. He was unreadable. You couldn't figure out what emotion he was wearing on his features.

You noticed his hands were in taut fists by his sides.

What was up with him?

"Douma?—"

That's when he stood up, rising to his full height. You swear you could feel the floor shake as he strode towards you.

You didn't—couldn't—move. Why was he so much more terrifying when not smiling?

The women let you go; getting on their knees as their Lord approached—heads touching the floor.

He didn't acknowledge any of them as he took your wrist in his hand. You saw his sharpened nails. bile climbed up your throat, you forced it down again as you swallowed.

Douma dragged you behind him, pace quick, eyes determined. You spluttered his name, trying to ask what was wrong. He was not himself, he never acted this way.

"Douma, what are you do-"

"Just shut up."

You were taken aback by his tone, shutting up immediately. He never had any emotion except for faux happiness in his voice. Now his tone was just empty, devoid of anything.

You could hear his heavy breathing as he took you outside. You spotted the white circle gifting the world with a guiding light in the darkness high up in the sky. It was a full-moon tonight.

Your eyes snapped to Douma as he stilled his movements. He shoved you in front of him, placing you in the holy glow of the moon. You faced him with confusion lining your features. You could not figure out what he was trying to do.

He took a few steps back; basking in the sight of you. He swallowed thickly. His eyes trailing slowly over you body, analyzing every dip, mole, crook, wrinkle, imperfection and perfection you had.

You looked like an angel in the heavenly glow of the nightlight. Douma couldn't stop inspecting you. When you walked into the hall, not wearing a kimono like always, he was put into a trance. He had never seen you wearing western clothing, and even though this was extreme and probably not accurate to the western style at all-he was captivated.

You had never looked more beautiful than you did at this moment. He wasn't used to emotions sizzling in his blood. He didn't know how to put the burning sensation in him out. For once he didn't want to throw you on a bed to eat you up to your very core, but he just wanted to take in you.

You played with the ends of your sleeves as you felt yourself getting smaller under Douma's multicolored gaze. You hated not knowing what to do, not being able to gauge the demon's feelings.

A snap of twigs made your head turn away from the stone-turning stare of Douma.

You sighed in relief.

"You bastard. You can't just take her with you! Not without Lord Muzan's permission! Love, you must've been te-."

Akaza stilled, his eyes met yours and slowly drifted over your body. You cocked your head.

Not him too.

"What are you wearing? What is she wearing?" He pointed an accusing finger to Douma,

"Doesn't matter, she is gorgeous."

You had to keep yourself upright form the whiplash Douma gave you with his words. He had never sounded to sincere, so soft.

Akaza walked over to you, his footfalls not heard. He was about to hold your hand when Douma spawned next to the two of you and gripped Akaza's hand in a bone-breaking grip. His muscles were bulging under his skin as he kept Akaza from touching you.

"Let her stay like this for a little." Douma never was serious with Akaza. Always letting the upper three do what he wanted. Akaza stopped all his actions. He knew Douma could kill him in seconds if he resisted him now.

"Douma I want to go. I don't feel comfortable." It was nerve-wrecking to break the tension. It was something you never dared to do, scared of loosing a limb if you did. The air was thick and if you had a knife you swore you could cut it.

Douma turned his focus towards you. Just like that you could breathe again, all tension leaving. It was like Douma realized that he had dropped his act.

You grimaced when his grin returned on his lips. You saw Akaza visibly relax when he did.

"Whatever you wish princess."

You looked at him with suspicion. He was never this easy to persuade. Usually he would whine for an hour before inevitably giving in.

Akaza shared a glance of doubt with you. He cautiously took your hand and within the blink of your eyes you were standing in the chaos of walls, lights, floors and stairs.

You felt light-headed, your stomach sloshing inside of you. This was never going to get easier.

You held Akaza's hand as you got your bearings, slowly pushing away the nausea and pressure that was building in your head. If it wasn't for him you would buckle and fall.

"You okay? I don't understand how you aren't used to this yet." Akaza rubbed your back. You shot him a glare and released your hand out of his.

"What is she wearing?" You pursed your lips in annoyance as Kokushibo appeared in your line of sight.

"I'm getting out of this dress right now, don't worry about it." You snapped, done with this whole night already. Why were they all acting like you never dressed up before?

You were wearing a dress for the first time though...maybe that's what had them reeling like this.

"No, I like it. You look beautiful." The upper one stared down at you, his hand resting at your shoulder, slowly gliding down to your lower back as he assessed you.

"We should get you more dresses, and have Daki braid your hair more often." He mused. A shiver ran up your spine as his cold fingers kissed your skin.

"I don't feel comfortable in this. I am practically naked." You objected, looking up at Kokushibo through your lashes.

"Only bonus points if you ask me." Douma winked, his eyes dark with lust as he cocked his head with a cheeky smile.

It was like whatever happened a few minutes ago never did. He was back to his old self. Much to your relief and dismay.

"Stop acting like an animal in heat you idiot." Akaza sneered, but the dust of pink on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Which one of you took her out of the kimono I picked for her?" There it was. A voice, cold as ice, heavy as stone and threatening like a knife against skin.

Muzan was standing across from you. His head high, hands behind his back and maroon eyes radiating annoyance.

Muzan was very controlling of what you wore, ate and just did overall.

Douma was in for a lot of shit.

"Ah Lord Muzan! isn't she pretty? My followers know exactly what to do with her!" Douma pushed you forward, showcasing you to the demon king.

You slightly pouted your lips. You hated being pranced around like an animal in a zoo. You just wanted to change into comfortable-covering-clothes.

Muzan took you in, walking around you as if he was deciding to buy a new piece of furnace. He was judging you.

"I've seen this style before. Did your followers research her western background?" Muzan asked as he let his hands wander over the material; tracing the silver that were hiding your breasts.

"They did, and they did such a magnificent job."

No they didn't. You never wore anything like this back home.

Home. You missed it.

"I wore dresses at home-" Muzan grabbed your jaw, you coughed.

"-back in my former country, they were nothing like this." You managed to get out with the aching grip of the demon king on your jugular.

You had to stop messing that up.

Muzan loosened his grip just a tat.

"You look nice in this. Maybe I should let you indulge in your own culture more."

Your eyes grew big.

"Are you serious?"

"Dare you question me?"

You shook your head no as best you could with his hands still lingering between oxygen and choking.

When was the last time you had enjoyed something from your culture?

When was the last time you spoke in your tongue?

Sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you made that realization, but you quickly cut the emotion off as you went down on your knees. Muzan letting your go to have you grovel at his feet.

You bowed down; head touching the floor the way he loved.

"Thank you, my lord." You felt the insides of your stomach climbing up your throat as you said it, but you forced it down. You had learned quickly enough to do what Muzan likes, and thank him for the smallest bit of gratitude.

Having you call him 'lord' was another one of his manipulation tactics. he wanted you to know the power dynamic between the two of you. He wanted you to know where you stood exactly.

Muzan hummed in satisfaction. You rose to your feet again with the help of Kokushibo, who so kindly stuck out his arm for you to take.

"No, stay on your knees." Muzan commanded. Your mouth fell open, but without any hesitation you bend down on your knees again. Your dress spread around you in a perfect circle.

Muzan tilted your chin up. He raveled in the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. You looked so fragile with those flowers in your hair and the white clothing your skin.

He felt his trousers tighten just at the thought of corrupting the innocent thing before him.

You felt the eyes of the three demons behind you burning holes in your body as Muzan traced his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Kiss me." He whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. you weren't feeling up to this right now, but the consequences of rejecting Muzan-rejecting the demon king-would be a grave mistake.

Muzan couldn't handle that a mere human could reject a near God like himself. It hurt is ego immensely.

You gently stood up, not breaking eye contact with him once, you let your breath fan over his lips, mentally preparing for what was about to come. Muzan grabbed your hips as he watched you.

Pushing back every urge to stop, you lunged forward, crashing your lips on the frozen ones of Muzan. Your warmth enveloped Muzan's nerves as he reciprocated the kiss. He was more fierce, more eager, and after a second he took back control. Forcing you to stay in place as he explored the cavity of your mouth. You felt your oxygen running out as Muzan bit and tugged on your bottom lip. He dominated you easily. Your hands were taut around Muzan's shoulders. Squeezing as the need for oxygen became to extreme.

The moment spots started forming in your vision, Muzan broke the connection. You heaved, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. You didn't stop looking at him, you knew he saw looking away as a form of 'not wanting' (even though that's what you did feel). You felt your lips swell and your face heat up. Your eyes were glossy and Muzan wore a small grin on his face.

He loved seeing you like this. Lips plump read, face hot and bothered and eyes doe-like.

"You are talented in putting on a show, darling." You furrowed your brows, Muzan guided your face in the direction of the other demons'.

You felt your muscles tense at the sight of all three looking at you like you were the first source of water they found after days of traveling in a dessert.

You felt fear fluttering in your stomach like moths pouncing on a flame.

You barely made it out alive when with one of them. You wouldn't be able to take all four.

"N-no, please, I-" Muzan raked his sharpened nails over the silver, it broke without any resistance, just like you predicted.

"Don't worry. They'll do as I say, and for now I want them to watch."

He kissed your shoulder as the shield slowly broke off your body.

You got what you wanted though, you got out of the dress.

[ghilliedubh]

Loki in Hiding

-upg-

I often see Loki in his 'outcast' or hermitic aspect. Here he hides in the wilderness, returning to perhaps an older form. I view him in a cave, lit by a modest fire. He sits cloaked and hooded. Before him is a low, rounded working surface on which he weaves a spiraling net that resembles a spider's web.

I believe that one of Loki's oldest forms is as the weaver of nets, setter of traps. He embodies the way humans have survived in the wild through outsmarting and tricking potential prey as well as predators. To the hunter-gatherer, stealth and trickery is a vital skill. I wonder to myself if his name could have the same roots as words like the Finnish loukku (trap) and Russian ло́вкий ('lóvkij' - skillfull, cunning).

As outcast, to me Loki does not seem uncomfortable or desperate, he returns to his natural state. Here he is not "Slanderer of the Gods" or "Forger of Evil", he is just Loki.