#spy that poor man is going to die....

[darkrablue]

reverse inspection

hellooooo freedom fries nation!!

[stuckyslut8]

I'm so very tamed now .part 2

Part 1. Masterlist.

A/N : don't know what took me so long to make a part 2 ( just life I guess)but her you go lovelies, sorry for the delay.

Pairing: mafia stucky x spy reader.(poly)

Summary: Bucky finally gets the information our of you, but you both manage piss steve off even more, so you have to deal with the consequences .

Warnning :poly stucky dom steve, bratty Bucky, sub reader , self proclaimed brat tamer Bucky,edging, spanking, angy steve 😡, a few tears. No beta reader. 18+ under the cut. Minors dni.

Bucky has you all spread out on his bed, hands cuffed to the bed, completely naked , completely at his mercy.

"are you gonna do something barnes or are you just gonna stare at me all day " you ask him mockingly.

"oh you'll see sweets." He says with a wicked grin, as he pulls out your favourite vibrator and before he pushes it into you , turning it up to the highest setting.

"ughh Bucky." You moan not being able to control your pleasure.

"see pretty girl, I don't have much time , steve is already annoyed so you better tell me everything." He asks as he tries not to palm himself at the sight of your but he couldn't resist he takes out his already hard cock and starts jerking off in front of you, adding to your pleasure.

"or -ughh - or what barnes?" You manage to say in between moans.

"or I'm gonna keep making ya cum until you can't." Your eyes widen at that.

"you see last time I edged ya ,it didn't turn out well so now I'm gonna make try something different." You came instantly as he said that.

"see that's my good girlz we'll see how long you can keep going before giving in." He said as hmm.

Five orgasms later , you still wouldn't budge.

"see I'm almost getting bored ,just spit it out already, the vibrator's battery is gonna die"

"that's all you got?" You challenged him but you were in the verge of giving up.

"fine , I'll do this my way." Bucky said as he pulled the vibrator away from you, looking at your wet pussy.

"see my poor pussy can't take it , she's exhausted.." he cooed as he collected some of your cum with his fingers and sucked them.

"don't tell me what I can take barnes."

"if you insist sweets." Bucky suddenly fills you up with his cock and starts pounding into you, lifting your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. You both moan, and grunt.

"now you better tell me sweets , who do you work for?" He asks as he fucks you into oblivion.

"ughh Bucky ... I'm gonna ." You said as you reached your high.

"me too angel, me too, now why don't you tell me ,so we can both come together ." You were about to give in Bucky knew, you just needed a little push.

"you know steve is gonna be very mad at me, if I don't get the information Outta you after all this trouble...so please tell me sweets,I swear I'll stay right by you whatever it is."

"fine fine...i ughh work for stark, stark sent me " you finally spit out the truth.

Just then steve came barging in the door, " steve i found the information, she works for..." Bucky was about to say .

"stark i know" steve finished his sentence" i just met him. " Not impressed by Bucky.

"well I just got the information Outta her, see i told you my tactics never fail." Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky's answers, although he was certainly aroused by the scene in front of him,you begging Bucky to let you cum.

"well of course I'll let you cum sweets, daddy is having a conversation right now wait a minute" the brunette man told you.

"stop being such a whore buck" steve yelled at him.

"you know you damn well you love it steve, infact i know you're enjoying our doll begging to cum right now" while you were still whimpering begging Bucky to cum.

Steve was definitely aroused by the sight in front of him but tried to keep his composure.

"shut up Bucky, she's being a brat and you're defending her." Steve said.

"she is brat and I'm not defending her , I'm punishing her can't you see?" Bucky asks

"damn well you are, look at her ,not one ounce of regret in her face,you're not making her realise anything,you're just giving in to her bratiness."

"daddy please lemme cum" you beg him with doe eyes, Bucky is still in you , you try to fuck yourself on him, lifting your hips. "Just a minute sweets" Bucky says.

"no get off of her" steve says angrily.

"what the hell steve" but steve pushes Bucky aside before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm gonna show her what real punishment is and make her realise what she has really done to us, how much she's hurt us, so stop coddling her and move buck" steve says as he takes off his clothes.

"stevie.." you whimper as Bucky's thick cock is removed from your heat.

"shh shut up you brat ,you only call me sir from now, understood?" Steve said giving a hard spank to your dripping pussy making me moan.

"yes sir" steve flips you onto your stomach, you were waiting nervously as to what he was gonna do.

"now I'm gonna spank you properly you brat and you're gonna take it like a good slut and thank me alright " he says

"yes sir." All while Bucky watched the scene unfold in front of him, he knew you were in big trouble now but he enjoyed it at the same time.

"good girl do what daddy steve says " Bucky said .

Steve gave his first spank it was real, unlike the playful ones Bucky gave you, it stung almost leaving an impression.

"thank you sir." I say. *He spanks again.

"thank you sir"

*spank

*th thank you sir."

After 10 spanks , Steve stops leaving your bottom so red and your pussy dripping.

"you did so good doll taking your punishment like a good girl" Bucky said patting your head.

"thanks daddy" you manage to whimper.

"your punishment is not over yet brat." Steve says with a stern look.

"but.."

"no buts get on your knees .."

You do as he says, steve roughly grabs your hips and thrusts his hard cock in you, making you moan. "Ahh daddy.." steve pulled out immediately,and spanked you again." What did I tell you to call me you brat.."

"sir?"

"yes and you'll only call me sir from now, no stevie, no daddy understood?" He said slapping my ass again.

"yes sir"

Bucky thought he was being a little too harsh on you. "Oh come on steve she just called you daddy she -" Bucky started to reason .

"you shut up punk or youre gonna be punished next." Steve said and went to sinking his cock back into your dripping cunt in one swift motion.

"ohh yess sir please-" you moaned

"please what you little slut?" Steve asked pounding into you ,making the bed shake, Bucky was happily jerking off to it at this point, knowing trying to defend you was pointless and that would only get you into more trouble, plus he knew steve would never hurt you,no matter how mad he was , he was only doing this because he was deeply hurt by your betrayal.

"please sir, fuck me, please don't stop." You pleaded .

"and why would I listen to you?" The blonde said.

"because...because..."

"because what ?" He said slamming his hips into you.

"because I love you and ...Bucky i uh-" tears we're streaming down your face at this point, both from the pleasure and the guilt of the whole situation,you knew you hurt steve and pushed him to this point.

Steve laughed mockingly. "Really you love- you love us? Don't lie you little slut" steve was about to cum but he contained himself not giving you the satisfaction.

"I'm not lying...i really, really love you both. I'm sorry about everything." A million things were going on Steve's mind.

Just then Steve's phone rang, he picked it up from the night stand while still in you.

"hmm alright I'll be there-" he spoke into the phone. He pulled out of you, leaving you whimpering.

"what happened baby?" Bucky asked , knowing something was wrong.

"nothing it's uh- take her to the safehouse right now, I'll go take care of some things."

Bucky knew better than to argue with steve at times like these so he only nodded.

Steve left the room, Bucky gently cleaned you up, while you were still getting out of the haze. "Pack your things baby." He said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"what's going on?" You finally decide to ask

"stevie's orders ,don't ask any questions for a while." He said .

And you complied, going on to pack some of your stuff ,but you had a pretty good idea of what's going on, you took your pistol from the hidden cabinet in your bathroom just in case .

[nibbelraz]

I am endlessly entertained by the prospect of MBJ just having literally no clue how human physiology works, and thus believing everything he hears (which, paired with SQH's propensity for saying dumb shit without thinking, is a recipe for disaster)

like:

SQH: ugh if I read any more expense reports my eyeballs will fall out of my head

MBJ: *frantically gathering as many expense reports as he can carry before shoving them into the fire*

SQH: *literally watching all his work burn up in flames* i-

MBJ: please hold in your eyeballs

______

SQH, offhandedly: lmao wei qingwei ate so many bao buns at the festival that I honestly think he's going to turn into one

MBJ, absolutely horrified, actually gives his condolences to the (very confused) human man because this affliction which will soon take his humanity is a fate worse than death. Also he starts hiding SQH's melon seeds

_____

SQH: ugh I'm so stressed out i'm gonna EXPLODE

MBJ: NO-

Yes YES OH man Shang Qinghua definitely has no filter when complaining about stuff, Poor Mobei he's learning so many awful things about humans and how MUCH DANGER THEYRE IN (how much danger his favorite human is in)

He tries to learn more about what can happen to his poor human so he's spying on Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghuas meetings only to hear them BOTH dramatically explain how tired they are, Shen Qingqiu with some peak lord duties juggled with Binghe and Shang Qinghua with just the amount of paper work and how they both won't make it if things don't slow down soon which prompts Mobei to immediately tell Luo Binghe that his consort is going to DIE if he doesn't get rest immediately this second

I can see this getting SO out of hand so fast, He'd bury Shang Qinghua in blankets and hold him tight so absolutely nothing can bother him and he'd be safe

[apenapaperandadoofus]

I love re reading the “first” Hualian meeting bc HC is probably 1. Fangirling so hard 2. Going over his very meticulous plan of what to do and say when he met XL. Like you know that one part in Spy x Fanily where fluffy head boy goes on a date and asks Loid for help and he makes him ENDLESS pages of what to say and responses? That’s what I’m sure HC (Yin Yu) did for this.

AND HES TRYING SO HARD ADHSHSHA

“Gege I didn’t know you had superpowers!” 😱🤩

He’s trying so hard to be a normal boy 😭

“Gege Im so scared! Pls protect me😖😖”

SIR YOU ARE A GHOST KING HELLO?!

And him saying XL scared the ghost away after he gave them A GLARE (keep in mind he’s very scared for real he’s just a silly little boy)

AND THE LAUGH. He looks smooth outside but inside he’s probably like “omg gege called me San Lang I can die again happy now holy crap he’s so pretty and he called me San Lang we’re going to get married in a beautiful garden and have 8 kids and-”

(No but really it’s so cute how he immediately laughs bc he is SO happy, like SO HAPPY that he’s finally with XL and he called him smth only wives call their husbands aaaa my BABY)

AND HOW HE SAYS HE WILL SLEEP IN THE STREETS 😭😭

“Yes I am just a sad little twink that ran away OH how I WISH a very handsome cultivator pls let me stay with him on this SCARY night im just a defenseless poor twink pls”

AND HE SAYS A CAVE THIS DRAMATIC ASS MAN I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AHDHDHSB

And the immediate:

HC: hmm where will we sleep?

XL: I have only one bed so if you don’t mind we-

HC: YES

Like I love how we all think he’s this smooth guy 24/7 but no. He’s pathetic. He’s a fan boy. He’s so in love his brain cells all die. He probably tried outfits for an hour and tried his best to come up with what to say before he met XL again. He made sure everything was PERFECT. He’s trying so hard not to scream and fanboy over XL rn. In fact hes trying his best not to get on one knee and propose.

HES SUCH A BABY GIRL I LOVE HIM 😭😭😭😭

[vienssunshine]

Don’t know how to feel

pairing: Choso x fem-coded!reader nsfw: sub!Choso, oral sex choso receiving word count: 3k description: while attempting to escape the chaos in Shibuya station, you run into a man dressed in a strange Halloween costume

Your friends said Shibuya was the place to be for Halloween, that they would just die if you didn’t join them for the party tonight. You surrendered to their begging, it’s not like you had other plans, and put on a more-slutty-than-tasteful vampire costume to accompany them for the festivities in the square. It should be a good time, you thought, the perfect opportunity to get buzzed and maybe laid. But as the screams got louder and you realized that no, someone hadn’t slipped something into your drink and that yes, the stampede coming towards you was real, your only concern became staying alive.

You’re torn away from your friends, elbows jabbing your sides, hands pushing you to keep moving or be trampled under frenzied feet. When you look to the sky, fighting to stay upright, you see that some kind of boundary has fallen over the surrounding area, keeping you all trapped. Despite this, the crowd still searches for escape, lurching in directionless surges and crushing you with pounds of body weight every time the current turns. So when you get to the edge of the mob, you take the chance to break free and run to the first shelter you can see: Shibuya station. You hurry inside, trying to not let the blood coating the stairs leading underground deter you. If you can’t escape whatever’s going on, you’ll have to hide until it blows over.

The bottom of the stairs is covered in rubble, the gaping hole in the ceiling above it the clear perpetrator. You clamber over the loose rock and steel to land on the tile of the train station. Behind you, strange noises from the world above begin to bellow through the staircase. You don't know what could be causing such unnatural sounds, but it's clear it would be best to put distance between you and their origin.

Your feet hit the ground hard, and you��re panting as you whip your head around, looking for anything to use as cover. You spot a small divot in the wall—maybe there’s a tunnel out of here—but when you approach it, you find it filled with the crouched form of a man. He’s in a Halloween costume too—though you’re not sure what he’s dressed up as—and leaning on the cracked wall, eyes wide in a thousand yard stare. It’s clear he’s not taking the situation at hand well, but if he wants to have any chance of surviving, he can’t stay out in the open like this.

A loud roar and a flurry of screams from the ground above echos through the station.

“Hey,” you whisper-shout, “Come with me.”

Unaffected, he mumbles something.

You try again, the urgency in your voice unhidden, but are interrupted by footsteps rumbling down the steps of the train station—though it doesn't sound like a crowd of humans, rather a parade of zoo animals. You’ve got to go, now. Still, you reach down and grab his forearm, offering the poor man one more chance to come with you and save himself. He must've had a moment of clarity because because he allows you to get him to his feet and drag him behind you.

The stampede is reaching the bottom of the stairs when you turn the corner and pull the man through the first door you see, slamming it behind you. An emergency light overhead casts a dim, yellow haze over what you recognize as a closet, allowing you to spy a tall shelf of cleaning supplies—a janitor's closet.

“Help me move this in front of the door,” you command.

You get behind the shelf and begin pushing, digging your feet into the cement ground and pressing your weight against it. Fuck, it’s too heavy. The weird sounds are getting closer. You push even harder.

The shelf flies forward, causing you to stumble and steady yourself with the wall to your side. Though you wish it had been, it wasn't your strength that moved it.

You turn around to see that the man is right behind you, having joined in the effort to barricade the door, and from his extended arm, had only used one hand to do so.

He drops his arm down by his side and looks down at you. For the first time since you’ve met, he makes eye contact. There’s a horizontal line drawn across his face, just under his eyes, with what you assume is make-up, but you’re only able to study it up close for a second before his expression crumples. He backs up, pressing his back flat against the furthest wall—which doesn’t get him very far in such a cramped closet—while his eyes frantically dart over your tattered costume. Then he looks down, staring at the dirty floor beneath his feet. It doesn’t appear that his mental state has improved since you found him.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask softly, speaking as if you were trying to not spook a stray animal. His hands are gripping the sides of his pants. He must’ve seen something terrible in the commotion above ground.

You try something else. “What’s your name?” you whisper. Hopefully this question is easier to answer and you can work on calming the poor man down.

He doesn’t meet your gaze as he mutters once again.

“What was that?” you say, taking a minuscule step forward.

Thankfully, the movement doesn't startle him, but he stays curled into himself when he answers. “Choso Kamo,” he says.

You introduce yourself, and though he gives you a few quick looks, he can’t keep his eyes on you as you speak. He must be really freaked out. “I know this is a traumatic situation, Choso,” you say, “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to make you feel better.”

Choso shifts his weight, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. “You’re making me feel weird,” he replies.

You furrow your brow. Out of the two of you, you’re definitely the one acting the most normal. “I’m sorry,” you say, folding your arms over your black corset—it's a miracle it stayed up after all that running. “We’ll only have to be here until everything dies down. Then you won’t have to see me again.”

“It’s not like that,” he says, fidgeting with the sleeve of his costume. He glances at you. His pale face is flushed pink. “The feeling feels…good.”

Now you’re puzzled. “…okay?”

“Can I…can I try something?” he asks.

Well, at least he’s talking now. And he seems to have calmed down, making him less likely to do something stupid and get both of you killed. It's a good idea to keep him this way, make sure he stays relaxed and reassured.

So you agree. “Um…sure,” you respond.

The yellow light flickers.

Choso takes a step forward, a step that crosses the entirety of the small closet, and lays a big hand on your shoulder. You lost the cape of your ‘sexy vampire costume’ in the commotion, so your shoulder is bare; it can directly feel the roughness and warmth of his hands.

“It feels good to…touch you,” he breathes. He turns his attention from your shoulder to your eyes, “and look at you, too.”

You shudder; his gaze is heavy. This…isn’t what you expected.

“I thought I was scaring you,” you say, looking down. There's a few bottles of cleaning supplies scattered on the floor.

“A little bit,” he says, working it out as he speaks, “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s so intense.”

That’s when you notice how strong his grip on your shoulder is, not tight enough to bruise, but enough to communicate a possessiveness. A desire for more. You flick your eyes back up to him, evaluating. He is good-looking, and the expression he has on his face as he waits for your response—cheeks flushed and mouth slightly ajar in gentle pants—is stirring up something warm in your stomach.

You place your hand on his chest. Oh, how his heart is pounding. “You really don’t know what’s going on?” you ask.

He looks down at your hand, then back to you. “I-I don’t, just that…your hand feels so warm and nice.”

You smile a little, tilting your head. “It seems that you’re attracted to me.”

“I didn’t know that was possible–for me to be attracted to someone,” Choso responds. You laugh to yourself, is this guy an alien or something? Maybe that’s what his costume is. Alien or not, he’s still cute.

“Congrats on the revelation,” you say, dropping your hand.

Choso takes a moment to ponder, and you watch with amusement. This interaction doesn’t seem real. Well, this whole situation doesn’t seem real. You hope everything will blow over soon. You’re trying not to catastrophize, to think worse case scenario. And this—

“Are you…attracted to me?” Choso asks.

—is a good distraction.

“You’re handsome,” you say. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think we are getting off to a good start.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, breathless. He’s trying not to, but his gaze is roaming what he can make out of your body in the dim light. There’s probably a lot to see due to how much your vampire costume already reveals and that parts of it were lost in the scramble for safety.

“Do you want me to keep touching you?” you ask, coy. His breath hitches at the idea.

“If…if it feels good for you too,” Choso responds.

“It does,” you say, taking the final step to have your chest pressing against his. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hovering your lips just a millimeter away from a kiss. “It feels really good to me.”

He leans forward, not able to bear another second without, but just before he can get that release, you lean back.

He voices his frustration wordlessly and you giggle. “So desperate, aren’t you?”

“You’re teasing me,” he says, a whine in his voice.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you say, bringing your lips to the side of his neck. Choso gasps, a sweet sound, and when you open your mouth, licking a stripe on his skin, his fingers squeeze your waist.

“Fuck,” he says, breath shaky. Enjoying his reactions, you begin to suck on his skin, earning another swear and no doubt leaving a mark. You push yourself into him, and his back hits the wall, his chin raised, exposing more of his neck to be kissed.

With your body flat against his, it’s easy to feel the hardness beneath his waist. He's so eager; you only kissed him a few times. You slide your hand past his collarbone, down his chest, slender but strong, down to just above his aching erection.

Choso is caught off guard. “What are you”—you palm it—“ngh…shit, that feels so…”

“You like it?” you ask, proud because you already know the answer. His eyes are pressed shut as he nods.

“Use your words,” you say, squeezing his erection—he winces—“and I’ll make you feel even better.”

You continue to rub your hand over the erection pushing through his robe in slow, circular strokes as he forces himself to speak. “Yes, I—ah—like it—a lot.”

“So good,” you tell him. The simple praise makes his dick twitch against your palm.

Your eyes flick down to his white pants, billowing in fabric. You tug at it, but it doesn’t move.

���It’s–uh–all one thing.” He blushes, the color prominent on his pale cheeks. “Do you want me to take it off?”

You nod, and he clumsily pulls off his purple and white robe. You still haven’t been able to place what he’s dressed up as, but you don’t offer that thought another second when Choso stands in front of you, naked and impatiently waiting for whatever it is you'll do to him next.

You don’t deprive him long, stepping forward and running your fingers over his bare chest. Yes, you were able to feel how strong he was when you had your body pressed against his, but being able to see the defined ridges of his torso makes his strength unquestionable. He shivers under your fingers, needing more, needing you to touch him lower than you are.

“Can you…?” He’s squirming against the wall, looking down at you with needy eyes. “Sorry, it just feels so,” he exhales, the breath uneven, “so good.”

“Yeah?” you say, wrapping your hand around his length. It’s hot and throbbing. “You want me to touch you here?”

“Yes,” he whimpers, “There. Please.”

You begin to move your hand up and down his erection in a loose fist, spreading the precum dripping from his tip down his length, and adding some of your spit to coat it completely. Choso’s head falls back against the wall and he meets your hand with shallow thrusts of his hips.

“You’re so sensitive,” you notice. He’s reacting so sweetly to your every movement, every soft swipe of your thumb over his tip, every kiss you press to his neck as you stroke him. “I like it.”

You like it enough to get on your knees on the cold, hard closet floor, and position his length in front of your mouth, just so you can get even more of a reaction from him.

“What?” Choso gasps, “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel good,” you coo, pumping him a few more times—which quickly stops the questions and starts the moans—and then take him into your mouth.

He spasms, hand tangling in your hair, unsure of whether he should pull you away or push you further down on him.

“You’re so warm…and wet,” Choso gets out.

You hum your response, something that only makes him tighten the strong fingers knotted into your hair, and keep going, working your mouth around his dick. You wrap your hands around the backs of his thighs, bracing yourself as you take him in deeper with every bob of your head. He fills your throat significantly, so you take a few breaks, kissing and sucking on his tip as you catch your breath.

Choso doesn’t seem to mind that it’s hard to take his full length, he’s too busy writhing from the sensation of your mouth on him. He's new to all this, not able to process or understand what you're doing and why it feels so fucking good. But explanations don't matter, not when the pretty girl in the outfit that made him hot just from looking at it is on her knees for him, dedicated to blessing him with a pleasure that doesn't belong to this universe.

“Fuck, please–ah–keep going, feels so good.”

Choso's moans are filling the closet and he’s holding onto you for dear life. His thighs are shaking enough to make you worry his legs will give out. “Feel like I’m gonna die,” he murmurs, lost in pleasure.

You’d smile in victory if you weren’t so focused on getting him there, and with the way he’s tensing up, he’s close. It’s funny, how he’s gonna cum already; he must’ve been worked up from the beginning.

You dig your fingers into the thick muscle of his thighs, holding on as he takes over, placing his hands on the side of your head to keep you still, and sloppily slipping his length in and out of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, and it’s obvious that you’re taking him well because he’s choking on his own moans, incoherent as he slurs his words.

“I can’t–fuck–oh–please–please–”

A final thrust into your mouth and his hot cum is pouring down your throat. It’s salty, but you’re able to swallow it, coughing a little as he pulls himself out of you. Then his strong arms come down under your armpits and lift you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. He pulls you into his body, gasping and shuddering as he recovers from the orgasm. Poor thing.

You press gentle kisses on his collarbone, soothing him. “You’re okay, Choso. You did so good.”

“Really?” Choso responds, his face nuzzled in your shoulder. He presses a small kiss there.

“Mhmm,” you affirm, smoothing his tied-up hair.

A rumble shakes the ground beneath you.

You swear, taking a step back to see the makeshift barricade you set up come crashing to the ground. Someone enters the closet.

You hold Choso’s arm tight. Surely you're dead now. Who the fuck is this dude? He’s in a weird costume too, possibly a movie villain because he has stitches all along his skin, even all over his face.

“Ah, Choso! There you are!” The patch-faced man is indifferent to Choso’s lack of clothing. He regards you, his grin unsettling. “And you have a friend.”

Choso’s face darkens, “She’s mine.”

“So territorial!” The intruder leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t gonna do anything…not to a friend of yours.” His words are lined with a playful deceit. “I’ll find someone else to have fun with.”

He turns on his heel, but before he leaves he says, “One more thing! Does this mean you’re out of our little game? Occupied with”—his slimy gaze oozes over you—“something else?”

“You’re not to lay a hand on Yuji Itadori,” Choso states, narrowing his eyes.

“No way! Guess you'll have to stop me then!” the man jeers, grinning like a bratty child as he disappears from the doorframe.

Choso turns to you. “I need to go help my brother…but not before I get you somewhere safe,” he says. Choso dresses quickly as you watch in a dumbfounded silence. What the fuck is going on?

He wraps a heavy arm around you and leads you out of the closet into the destroyed Shibuya station.

“Trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

Unable to make sense of anything that’s going on, you have no choice but to believe him.

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 26: The Proposal

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.

Word Count: 7734 words.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“Yorozu?” King Gojo asked you.

Hundreds of eyes watched you with deadly curiosity. All the air in your lungs tightened after hearing that name. You may have killed her, but you were still bound to her for life. Blood is thicker than water. She had told you that she had met the divine man in front of you, but why did he ask you about her? Rather, why did he confuse you if they had already met? That bitch was surely mocking you from the urn you decorated for her.

“Huh?” Was the only thing you could answer, in shock.

Gojo leaned to inspect you more closely, making the difference of height more evident. Even though he was not as tall as Sukuna, he still towered over you. His eyes narrowed, and his thin white eyebrows came together as he scanned your face carefully.

“Oh, you are different.” Gojo blinked a few times as if he had noticed something that wasn't there before. "You must be…"

"Her sister." You closed your hands into fists to control the whirlwind of emotions that her simple name caused in you.

"Oh, I see!" Gojo returned to his normal, long and elegant posture, with a big pearly smile. "How is she?" He asked as if they were old friends who hadn't seen each other in years.

"She passed away," you answered honestly.

"Oh…" It was the only thing Gojo could say, not expecting that answer. "What did she die of?"

"I killed her" was not an answer you wanted to say openly with hundreds of judging eyes floating around you. You were going to answer with some illness, but King Nanami interjected into the conversation.

"King Gojo, please be more careful," Nanami implored him. “I’m sorry for your loss, young lady.” He looked at you with pitying eyes.

His kind, yet direct way of speaking reminded you of an old friend of yours. A boy with his head in books, always trying to help everyone, with a strong sense of justice. The person who taught you how to read. Being so busy worrying about yours and your sister’s survival, you hadn’t taken the time to miss him. What a terrible friend you were.

“Don’t worry, King Nanami.” You gave him a sad smile. This was your chance to draw pity to you. “King Sukuna killed my sister.”

The crowd gasped around you upon hearing that terrible event. You refrained from smiling in satisfaction as you found the perfect way to distance yourself from the terrible tyrant so you could spy on the nobility. Even though he dressed you like a princess from head to toe, that fact now made you look like a poor lost soul being dragged along by the king of curses. To the surprise of the newly arrived kings, Commander Naoya approached them.

“This is Y/n, the maid that King Sukuna brought," he whispered the context to them.

“Is King Sukuna here?” Nanami opened his eyes in perplexity.

“This evening is just beginning, and it's already gotten interesting. I'm so glad that you forced me to come, Nanamin!” Gojo exclaimed excitedly, downplaying the fact that the king of curses was under the same roof.

“He's in a private meeting with King Toji. They shouldn't be long,” Naoya answered Nanami's question.

"So he beat me to it, damn!" Gojo raised his eyebrow before lowering the white blindfold over his eyes.

That last sentence caught your attention. King Gojo wanted to see your king too? Why? That was your new mission: find out what he wanted from the King of Curses.

"Well, it seems I'll have to wait until they're done." Gojo sighed angrily. "I'll have to entertain myself with a pretty lady in the meantime."

The surrounding girls squealed in excitement, raising their hand to be chosen to hang out with his majesty. This was the part you were never good at, getting attention. Despite wearing a dress to kill, you didn't have the confidence to compete with girls who were actually royalty. But this wasn't the time to hesitate, just act. You took a deep breath, filling yourself with courage. If he didn't choose you, you would choose yourself.

"King Gojo, allow me the honor of keeping you company until King Sukuna is free," you offered, bowing to show him the utmost of your respect. His lips parted, surprised by your bravery.

"I'd be a real idiot to say no to a beautiful woman in a daring red dress." King Gojo took your hand gently and kissed your knuckles as if they were fragile rose petals. "The honor is all mine." He smiled flirtatiously at you. You felt the murderous glances of the other girls against your neck, but that was the least of your problems now.

The meeting room was illuminated by the soft flames of the fireplace. The orchid tapestry lay softly on the walls, the symbol of the Zen'in family. Sukuna had his large buttocks on the elegant forest green chair that creaked with each shuffle move, barely supporting his weight. King Toji uncorked a bottle of sake and poured two glasses as he proudly told him about his kingdom. Despite the calm sound, the tension could be felt with every breath. Two powerful kings, faithful enemies who never thought they would meet, were now in the same room.

“I was supposed to open this bottle when my baby was born, but I think this is an even more impressive moment than life itself.” King Toji commented as he handed one of the glasses to Sukuna. “Let's make a toast, what do you think?” Toji said as he sat down on the opposite chair.

“What are we toasting to?” Sukuna asked disinterestedly.

“There are many reasons. The bright future, the stability of our kingdoms, having beautiful women by our side, just to mention a few examples.”

Sukuna saw his reflection in the glass. He wondered what you were doing at that moment. Probably gawking at the orchestra or talking to some polite duchess, trying your best not to be obvious enough that you were a spy. The corner of his lip smiled as he thought how lucky he was that he hadn't killed you the day he met you. If he had, he wouldn't have the perfect queen and the mother of his future children by his side. It was amazing how you did whatever he wanted without batting an eyelid, where had you been all this time?

“You said you wanted to do business,” Sukuna reminded him, returning to his role as the insolent king.

“A little conversation doesn't kill anyone.” Toji took a sip of his glass before placing it on the table.

His posture went from relaxed to attentive. He straightened his spine against the chair, placed both feet on the floor, and bowed his torso to the tyrant in front of him. Toji had to think very carefully about his next move. He knew the proposal was very good, but he wasn't dealing with a normal king. This was the king of curses, the one who cares about nothing but himself and his curses. For the simple fact that he was a human, there was a high chance that King Sukuna would reject him completely.

“I imagine you know the Kamo’s very well,” Toji asked.

The Kamo Kingdom. Located south of the Gojo Kingdom and east of the New Sukuna Kingdom. One of the three most powerful sorcerer families in the world. Persevering, agile and highly traditional. 500 years ago, they were a much more powerful kingdom than the Gojo and Zen'in combined… until Sukuna came along.

“A little, why?” Sukuna raised his eyebrow.

“You see, 100 years ago, the sorcerer kingdoms formed an alliance to help each other in case of an invasion by curses.” Toji explained.

Sukuna was aware of that thanks to Kenjaku. After Sukuna conquered the land of the Kamo and King Jogo took part of the land of the Gojo. The kingdoms of Gojo, Zen’in, Nanami, Yaga, Geto and Tsukumo signed an agreement where they established the necessary measures that would be taken in case a curse conquered their lands. Everyone signed except the Kamo, who were very upset with the other kingdoms, because no one helped them when he attacked them. The Kamo's never forget.

“Not only did they not sign the agreement, but they also closed their doors to the other sorcerer kingdoms forever. Now they only dedicate themselves to killing curses by tradition. It may be a small kingdom, but you must know that they are very powerful.” Toji poured another glass of sake for Sukuna.

“And what does that have to do with me?” Sukuna took the glass and drank it with disdain.

“If I want to get close to the Kamo, I must do it with something that catches their attention, and you have just what I need.” Toji explained. “The human commune that you own may have descendants of the Kamo.” Sukuna could not help but burst out laughing.

“Believe me, there is none. I dedicated myself to killing each one of those bastards 500 years ago.” Sukuna sneered. “Also, those rats don't believe in sorcerers, nor have my curses reported any sorcerers to me. If there was a plague like that, I would have already taken the time of day to eradicate it.”

“They may not be sorcerers, but those "rats" are still descendants of the Kamo.” Toji laughed at the absurd nickname. “I propose the following: you give me 20 humans from the commune in exchange for leaving the forest of curses free of Zen'in sorcerers. What do you think?”

He smiled, satisfied with himself, it was a great proposal. Toji got a key to enter the Kamo kingdom, and Sukuna got the curses to live in peace in the forest. A good win-win. Unfortunately, King Zen'in didn't consider a minor detail. Sukuna kept looking at him, annoyed.

“The forest of curses? Why should I care about that shitty place?”

“Because you are the king of curses?” The human king raised his eyebrow.

“Because I rule over them, not because I care about them.” Sukuna crossed his arms, annoyed at being wasted of his time with idiotic proposals.

King Toji's nostrils flared as he noticed the small problem in his proposal. He had thought wrong when he thought Sukuna cared about his curses, but that wasn't the case. He didn't care about anything but himself. He had underestimated him. The king of curses was much worse than he believed.

“If you don't make that deal with me, you'll leave me no choice but to take what I want by force,” Toji said.

“Good luck with the Impossible Belt,” Sukuna defended.

“If Commander Naoya can cross it, any other Zen'in can.” Toji smiled, proud of his troops.

Sukuna squeezed the glass, but stopped as soon as the porcelain creaked under his fingers. It turns out that he had also underestimated the Zen'in. He had always thought that Commander Naoya came to Sukuna's kingdom by sea, but now it turned out that he also crossed it by land, like you and your family. How come he was just finding out that his greatest defense was failing in such an embarrassing way? The first thing he would do upon returning home was to find out why the defenses were so low.

"What is there to think?" Toji leaned in to speak directly to him. "Take the deal, it's the easiest route for both of us. I'll get what I want and leave you alone."

"How much of a foul do you think I am?" Sukuna asked with an offended smile. "Once you obtain your alliance with the Kamo, what guarantees me that you won't attack me afterward?"

"You need some trust issues to solve," Toji sneered.

"You eventually lose everything when you trust," Sukuna replied before taking his glass.

“I can't offer you anything more than a promise,” Toji looked him straight in the eyes. “You can choose. Do we walk hand in hand, or do I have to go against you?”

Sukuna smiled offended at the threat, and Toji imitated the gesture when he understood his clear answer. It was already official what the final decision was. The black-haired man poured the last round of sake. He had already lost count of how many he had drunk so far.

“May the best sorcerer win,” Toji toasted, clearly referring to himself. Sukuna smiled at him.

“You are seeing him.” Sukuna elegantly gulped the light alcohol to the sound of Toji's glass crashing against the floor.

The dance followed its natural rhythm. People danced, ate and established political relationships that you could barely understand. This dance was very different from the ones you were used to. They always used to be in smaller mansions, people were already drunk by this point and Yorozu was making out with some military man in the dark hallways. King Gojo was gently caressing Queen Nozomi’s belly as they talked about their trip to the kingdom. He already wanted to dance with you, but King Nanami forced him to greet the Zen’in first out of politeness. “Sukuna hasn’t come back yet.” You looked worriedly at the hallway where he had disappeared.

“Excuse me, miss.” King Nanami approached your side, pulling you away from your thoughts. “I know this is none of my business, but if you want to escape from King Sukuna, I will help you. Just give the order and I will move earth and sea to keep you safe.” He whispered in your ear.

That was the first time you had been offered help in a long time. You stared at King Nanami, dumbfounded. Despite his serious and reserved face, there was a hint of assertiveness in his voice. Something that made you trust him, that intrigue you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I couldn't. Sukuna would start a stealthy search for my head." You excused yourself, although you were afraid that would be the case if you dared to even think about it.

Nanami thought about his options. "I have a mansion on No Man's Island. I could help you get there without any problem."

You remembered that Sukuna had told you about the war that took place to conquer No Man's Island, and that it was now a vacation land that was difficult to access. You were sure that even he would look for you there too if you were to lose sight of him.

"Thank you for the offer, but I really must return to Sukuna's kingdom. Not for the king, but for my family," you answered, thinking of Mrs. Inoue and Mr. Wasuke.

“If you change your mind, I'll be here to serve you.” Nanami accepted your answer.

“Hey, Nanamin, stop flirting with my lady.” King Gojo pushed him in a friendly manner to take your hand. “Let's dance, the night is young.”

“Be nice to her, King Gojo.” King Nanami told him before greeting Queen Nozomi.

King Gojo had an impressive way of commanding the room with just his presence. As soon as they went down the stairs that led to the dance floor, the orchestra changed songs and the people with their mouths agape moved out of the way to give him all the space in the world. They stood in the center and bowed to introduce themselves. Their white clothes fell like light feathers as he smiled at you, excited to take possession of you. To the beat of the soft piano, you slowly approached. He held you tightly by the waist and extended your arm to put you in position.

There was something strange in the air as you danced. When you danced with Commander Naoya, everyone looked at you badly, but now that you were dancing with Gojo, it felt like you had shocked everyone. Although maybe it was just the change of dance partner, it was as if there was something you couldn't quite understand.

"Maybe this is none of my business, but how can you see with the blindfold on?" You asked to make some conversation, it was the best way to get the answers you wanted.

"Only the weak use their eyes to see." Gojo answered with a flirtatious smile. "I don't need my eyes to know what your body is like." His hand moved nimbly down your back as a shiver ran down your spine. "I don't need my eyes to know that you are a fine woman." He brought his face closer to your neck to breathe in your perfume. "I don't need my eyes to know how soft your skin is." He lightly bit your earlobe, causing you to gulp as your face turned the same color as your dress. Gojo smiled as he caught that. “I don’t need my eyes to know you’re nervous.”

“How could I not be when you’re acting like that in front of everyone?” You asked, avoiding his face.

“How could I not be, when you deserve for me to be on my knees in front of you?” He answered your question. “And not exactly to pray to you.” He purred before planting a kiss on your cheek.

“What’s wrong with this guy?!” You wondered, flabbergasted. He was so blunt that it even seemed offensive to you, but something inside you wanted him to continue disrespecting you. “No! You’re a spy and you’re engaged!” You scolded yourself as you came back to reality.

The song ended and a round of applause enveloped them. The next song immediately began to play, enclosing them in the crowd of people. You were excited to get back on the track with the others, but Satoru pulled you by the arm. You didn't know exactly how, but everything stopped around you. As if it were a game of statues, everything fell silent. There was no music, dancing steps or conversations. You turned your gaze to King Satoru, and he gave you a smile as if you were alone in the world. He pulled you with him towards the nearest hallway to get away from everyone.

Queen Nozomi quickly noticed your disappearance. She analyzed the situation cautiously. King Gojo seemed very interested in you, but why? There was only one way to find out. She let out a sigh of tiredness due to her pregnancy, caressing her belly with a certain protective air.

"Commander Naoya, you know what to do," the queen ordered the man resting next to her.

"Yes, my queen," he answered seriously before disappearing like the wind.

The sound came back, and you regained your balance suddenly as soon as he closed the door behind you. You ran through the halls like two naughty children, escaping from their parents to play away from everyone. You climbed several stairs and walked through several candle-lit hallways as if the king knew exactly where to go. Gojo took you to a huge room that was illuminated only by the power of the full moon on the huge skylight. The signs couldn't be more obvious. Targets, cursed weapons displayed on the walls and sandbags suspended above the floor. You quickly deduced it was a training room.

"I thought you would like some privacy," Satoru told you as he walked around the place as if it were his home. "The truth is that I wanted to keep dancing," you thought, disappointed.

"Yes, thank you," you lied. "Can we be here?" You asked when you saw that all the candles were out.

"I am King Gojo Satoru, special guest. The only thing that limits me is my imagination,” he commented with certain superiority as he approached the wall that displayed several daggers with different edges.

Besides being a mortal enemy of your king, something was not right with the way he acted. You did not feel comfortable like you did with King Nanami. That did not mean he was a bad person, but you had to be alert in case he wanted to take advantage of you. You remembered the dagger that rested on your thigh. You blushed as you remembered the ghost trail he left behind.

“Why don't you entertain me with your technique?” Gojo asked you before giving you one of the daggers.

“Excuse me? Technique?” You stuttered, almost cutting yourself with the blade from the shock.

“Yes, you have a very interesting technique like your sister's,” Gojo smiled at you.

“Umm... I don't have any technique, you must be confused.” You tried to return the dagger, but he didn't receive it.

Gojo removed the white blindfold from his eyes, revealing his beautiful crystalline lagoons. There was that feeling of exposure, despite being dressed, it was as if you were baring your soul. Gojo noticed that you had an enormous amount of cursed energy just like Yorozu, but instead of flowing through your body, it focused on your eyes, just like his.

“I've never been so sure in my life, you have a technique and a very good one if you ask me.” The king put his blindfold back on, but still managed to see your face in shock. “You didn't know?”

“Do I look like I knew?” You asked with a certain sarcasm that came out of your chest. Gojo laughed.

“I think I'm getting it now,” Gojo smiled in a moment of eureka. “When I told your sister that she had an impressive technique, she also made fun of me. She told me that sorcerers didn't exist and that I was crazy.”

“Oh, Yorozu,” you thought sadly. In her defense, that was the upbringing they had grown up with. Sorcerers were just legendary characters who were supposed to one day come to protect them from the tyranny of Sukuna Ryomen, but they remained as simple myths. You realized that everything was real once you met Uraume, and it became concrete with everything that Kenjaku has taught you about sorcery.

“Where we come from, Sukuna took it upon himself to get rid of all possible sorcerers, so all the humans in Sukuna's kingdom don't know that they exist. They are our hope, but they have never come to save us.” You explained with some sadness.

“It's because sorcerers only kill curses, not save people,” he explained.

“Isn't it the same thing?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You'll realize the difference when you become one.” Gojo took your hand and guided you towards the targets. “I will baptize you.”

You already understood why you didn't trust him. Unlike Nanami, who tried to help you out of your situation. King Gojo, the most powerful sorcerer of this generation, didn't offer you anything. The fact that you were Sukuna's servant suited him well, as if it were normal. Gojo placed you about 20 meters from a target, like when you practiced archery.

“Throw the dagger towards the center of the target,” he ordered you.

You had never thrown a dagger in your life, but there is always a first time for everything, right? You handled it by the handle, took a deep breath and threw it with all the strength you could muster. The dagger traced an erratic arc in the air, spinning clumsily before falling to the ground with a metallic crash. The echo of the impact resonated longer than you would have liked. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at that terrible attempt. Gojo mocked mercilessly, but with his characteristic carefree tone, he handed you another dagger.

“Now, pay close attention,” Gojo stood behind you and took your head so that you would direct your gaze forward. He corrected your posture by pushing your back and grabbed your chin tightly. “Focus on the center and when you feel that you are in it, throw the dagger. Forget everything that is around you, ignore any distraction. The only thing that matters now is you and your target. Ignore everything else. My touch, my voice, the moon, everything…”

Your eyes sharpened, focusing at the center of the target with precision. The yellow dot was the only thing that mattered to you now. You had experienced this before. The trance, the need to do something, the focus. The ice block, the blows to Mahito, the arrow in Naoya's back, and your sister's head. You pushed that out of your head to focus on what mattered now. You exhaled and threw the dagger when all you could feel was the yellow dot.

The dagger flew through the air. You squealed when you saw that you threw it too far to the left, and it was going to end up on the ground again, but it changed its path in the air like a boomerang until it stuck perfectly in the yellow center. “That's physically impossible” you thought confused.

“Like your sister, the nature of your technique is object manipulation. Yours is simpler but no less powerful.” Gojo explained as you picked up the daggers used. “Your technique works like this: If you focus one hundred percent on your target, the object to which you transmit your cursed energy is destined to hit the target one hundred percent of the time.”

“Even if my aim is terrible?” You asked confused.

“That's what makes your technique interesting. You could throw a dagger in the opposite direction, and it would deviate to the right path if you were very focused on your target.” He explained.

You looked at your hands and smiled to yourself. You finally had something worthy to offer your king beyond your skills as a housewife and a womb to give him an heir. You had a technique, you were a sorceress. You would make the most of this power.

Sukuna and Toji staggered back to the grand ball. It was past midnight, but the night was still young. The nobles were still dancing, but with their left feet from all the extravagant alcohol they had consumed. Queen Nozomi interrupted her conversation with King Nanami to give her husband a kiss. Sukuna scanned the great hall. It should be easy to find his girl over the sea of ​​white fabric, but it wasn't. Not a single red sequin was to be seen in the place. This was the exact reason why he had chosen that color.

“Where is my servant?” Sukuna roared in annoyance.

“Don’t worry, she’s with King Gojo,” King Nanami replied.

Although he was a king used to dealing with curses for as long as he could remember, he had never seen eyes as terrifying as King Sukuna’s fiery rubies. An icy chill slid down his spine, leaving him shaking like a leaf in the middle of a storm. Before he could react, one of Sukuna’s claws closed tightly around the collar of his shirt, like a silent but lethal warning.

“Where is she?!” He demanded.

You took a deep breath and stared at the center of the target again. Your eyebrows drew closer, you stuck out the tip of your tongue and your eyes were glued to that fucking yellow that called your name. You were about to throw the dagger, but King Gojo grabbed your shoulders. You lost your concentration as soon as you let go of the dagger. It flew until it got stuck into the edge of the target.

"Damn..." You muttered.

"That's what happens when you lose concentration." Gojo playfully patted your shoulders. "It's a unique technique and takes a long time to perfect." He gave you an encouraging smile.

"Thank you for taking the time to teach me." You bowed to show your gratitude.

"Anything for a beautiful colleague." He winked at you.

"Colleague?”

“Of course! You're a sorceress now! You're one of us!” Gojo dramatically threw his arms out to welcome you into his wonderful world. “I'm sure you'll have a bright future ahead of you and, maybe, you could even be the one to defeat King Sukuna.”

“Me? Defeat the king?”, you thought, mouth agape. It wasn't possible that someone who had just discovered his powers could stand up to King Sukuna. An entire nation of sorcerers couldn't stand up to him, how would you be capable of something like that?

“That would be insane,” you whispered as you turned around to drop the subject, but King Gojo grabbed your arm and pulled you into his body.

“I've never been more sane in my entire life, young lady.”

One of his hands cupped your cheek tenderly. His face was the personification of a snowy night. His fingertips traced the curve of your warm cheek, and his index finger traced your jaw. A flirtatious smile escaped his lips as he realized you were enthralled under his touch.

“Marry me,” he proposed.

“What?!” You asked, offended.

You tore your face away from his touch, but he pulled you back towards him. He spun you on your heels until you were pinned against the nearest wall. He placed one of his long hands next to your head and moved closer until he was mere inches from your nose.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best way to ask,” Gojo reflected on his actions.

“N-no, not at all,” you stammered. “I-I’m s-sorry, but I can’t accept.”

“Is it because of King Sukuna?” Gojo inquired. “I’m stronger than him. I'm willing to tear you away from him for your hand in matrimony.”

“That would start a war!” You warned.

“So what? I'll do anything to have you by my side.”

“But you don't know anything about me…”

“It's a good thing we have a lifetime to do it.” Gojo leaned towards you, getting dangerously close until his nose caught that peculiar scent, one he hadn't perceived in a long time. “Your sweet lips don't deserve this horrible taste, Satoru.”

His thin lips crashed against yours. His hidden eyes expanded as he realized it was the same taste he longed to taste every night. Bitter, burnt, greasy… It was just as he remembered it. He pushed his body against yours to deepen that sensation he once thought lost.

Your hands went straight to his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he was taller and stronger than you. You still didn't understand how you had gotten into this situation, but you had to stop him at all costs. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were only with him to get information of any kind, not for him to shove his tongue down your throat in search of something you didn't even know you had. Your eyes widened as soon as you felt his huge erection on your stomach, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse. It got worse.

"Get down." Gojo warned before suddenly pulling you to the ground.

You fell to the ground with Gojo on top of you. Your mind was barely trying to understand what was happening until you saw the huge figure on the other side of the room. "Now he's going to kill me" you thought as you saw Sukuna with the face of a thousand demons and two of his fingers in front of him. Dust fell on your back, you looked up to realize there was a large cut in the wall at the height of your neck. "He almost killed me" you thought with teary eyes. This was your end.

“It seems your meeting with King Toji is over.” Gojo commented before getting up to greet his enemy, completely ignoring that you were still on the ground. “I wanted to meet you sooner, but your servant offered to keep me company.” “You’re not helping me, King Gojo,” you scolded him in your mind.

“I’m glad. She’ll also keep you company in the afterlife when I’m done with you two.” Sukuna said before giving you a murderous look that made you look away in shame.

It’s been a long time since he saw that expression on your face, not since the hunt. Your lower lip was trembling, and your body was frozen. His body was tense, he no longer knew if it was because of the betrayal or the tears falling from your eyes. You were scared, or rather, terrified, but that didn’t matter, this was something he had to do.

“No one threatens me and lives to tell.” Gojo smiled before attacking him head on.

Sukuna Ryomen. The one and only, the myth, the legend. Everything and nothing was known about him, an enigma shrouded in fame and obscurity. Now he was there, facing the sorcerer king who was afraid of nothing, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity to understand him better, even if it was through the clash of forces. Sukuna didn't hesitate for a moment; he responded to the attack with a fury that only a curse of his caliber could unleash.

The sorcerer and the terrible curse faced each other hand to hand in a duel that seemed straight out of an epic. You could barely follow the speed of their movements; their attacks were an unstoppable whirlwind, but to you, the outcome was as clear as water. With impeccable precision, Gojo launched a blow directly into Sukuna's stomach, sending him flying to the other end of the room with the force of a hurricane. Before Sukuna could react, Gojo, lightning fast, had already appeared behind him, ready to continue the battle.

“I’m going to show off just because the lady is watching,” Gojo whispered to him with a proud smile. Sukuna tried to elbow him, but it disappeared completely.

Gojo’s quick movements were beginning to deeply irritate Sukuna. He was like an annoying mosquito, slippery and impossible to swat. Although Gojo had a thinner build, that didn’t make him any less dangerous. Each blow was calculated to aim for the vital organs, forcing Sukuna to stay alert.

Intending to finish quickly, Sukuna tried to slash as he always did: direct and lethal. But something strange was happening; his claws were unable to pierce the barrier protecting Gojo. Frustrated, he threw a random slash that passed dangerously close to you, tearing the skirt of your dress. Any further, and you could have lost your leg. Panic took over you. “I have to get out of here,” you thought as fear chilled your body.

Meanwhile, Gojo, with an almost theatrical grace, landed softly on one of the ruined platforms. His eyes shone with satisfaction. He had seen enough. Sukuna was everything they said: strong, fast and skilled enough to keep up with him. Perfect. He had accomplished his goal for the night, and now it was up to him to decide what his next move would be.

“Look, I don’t think it’s fair the young lady sees more of this fight. Why don’t we call it even?” Gojo proposed, but only received a frustrated grunt from his great opponent. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Gojo smiled. “See you later, beautiful.” He said goodbye to you before disappearing.

“That idiot left me with him!” You thought in surprise. You were about to get up and run away, but you saw Sukuna walking like a tiger savoring its prey. You thought about taking the dagger from your thigh and defending yourself. You stared at his exposed neck. “What are you thinking?” You couldn’t kill your king. Tears kept falling down your face. You couldn’t do anything to hurt him after he had treated you so lovingly. You remembered his attentive gazes, his warm hugs, his soft kisses in what seemed like your last seconds of life. You loved him so much that you couldn’t hurt him, even if it was self-defense. You preferred a thousand times that he ended your life than you ended his.

You closed your eyes, thinking that you had reached the end of the road. Of all the reasons, he would kill you for adultery. Infidelity against you. Oh, life is funny. What was the taste of death? Bitter and short, or peaceful but elongated? You were about to find out… One, two, three seconds passed. Nothing. You opened one eye and only saw a hand stretched out in front of you. Sukuna was offering you his help to get up with a distressed look.

The blindfold fell from your eyes, and you saw the pawns you could play with. A simple glance at the board and you already knew how to win a game that seemed lost from the start. The stroke of luck was so strong it almost knocked you out. You were going to take the game seriously once and for all. The plan, which you had started a month ago, was finally bearing fruit. Tonight, you would return home.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

Sukuna brought one of his hands closer to help you up. Clearly, you were scared, it was the first time you saw him in the middle of combat. Although the bitterness of defeat embarrassed his throat in a lump that was impossible to undo, it was much worse to see you cry because of his murderous instinct. Your eyes saw his hand, but you completely ignored his gesture of kindness and got up on your own, shaking the dust off your dress.

“You almost killed me…” You said with a shaky voice, you clenched your skirt in frustration.

“I only did it so that idiot would leave you alone.” Sukuna growled, they were in enemy lands, there was no time for drama. “I knew he would save you one way or another.”

“What if that wasn't the case? What if he had saved just himself? My head would be on the floor right now.” You burst into tears, feeling the end of your neck.

“If you weren't making out with him, this wouldn't have happened.” Sukuna gave you a reproachful look in order to calm you down.

“Ah! So now it's my fault?” Your offended eyes lashed out at him like whips, as if he had kicked your dog. “You put me in this sexy red dress that highlights every curve in my body and expected no man to approach me?!” You exclaimed, transforming your sadness into anger.

Sukuna ground his molars at that statement, but you were right. His plan for you to wear a red dress to make you stand out had backfired to him. You stood out so much that all the men were looking at you. More attractive men, kind men, normal men…

“Still, you shouldn’t have kissed that idiot!” Sukuna roared in an attempt to silence your screams, but it only turned the conversation into a heated argument.

“For your information, I was just doing what you asked when he was the one who kissed me! I tried to back off, but he looked like he wanted a bite of the hot stuff you made!” You complained again.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t be loyal to me for one night.” He scoffed angrily, crossing his arms twice.

“Loyalty? You want to talk about loyalty? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you since I met you. I washed your body for you, ate human flesh for you, jumped out of a tree for you, studied for you, trained for you. Not only that, but I killed my own sister for you, dammit!” You exclaimed in frustration. The lump in Sukuna’s throat tightened further. “And how do you repay me? You ignored me, walked away, and if it hadn't been for the shameless letter, you wouldn't have asked me to marry me.” You decided to admit your mastercard.

Your words sank into his heart like sharp daggers, revealing a truth that, deep down, he had always suspected, but which was now completely exposed. The way you decided to bring that confession to light, at such a critical moment, took him completely by surprise. That letter that he read every night, that he kept as an intimate and tormenting secret, finally had a face. And that face was none other than his beloved.

“So... you're the one who feels that way about me...” Sukuna stammered, forgetting why he was upset in the first place.

“He is so down bad.” You avoided letting out a proud smile to continue with your act. You had turned the situation around. You went from the king being about to kill you, to wanting a hug, like an anxious dog waiting for a bone. The manipulation tactics you had learned from your mother and Yorozu did serve some purpose in the end.

“I’m not sure anymore…” You sighed, shedding another tear. ‘Stretch’. “I don’t know if I can love someone who was about to decapitate me,” you complained quietly.

Sukuna had faced everything: cursed techniques, lethal weapons, stones thrown in fury, deadly poisons and poisoned fruits. His body had resisted each attack without yielding, but nothing prepared him for the devastating impact of the words of the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand. It was as if she squeezed it hard, until it exploded in an invisible but scorching torrent of blood.

He clenched his fists, trembling with rage and frustration. This was exactly what he had tried to avoid from the beginning: becoming this pathetic and vulnerable being, trapped in the abyss of feelings. This bond, this weakness, connected him to the humanity he despised, and it infuriated him more than any physical wound.

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have brought you to the ball.” Sukuna whined, returning to the original conversation.

“Sorry…” You blew your nose, earning the red glare you could barely read. “Sorry for enjoying the attention of a man who doesn’t want to kill me.” You said before threatening to leave the room, dragging the poorly cut train of your dress.

Sukuna followed you with his gaze, thinking he would go after you later after calming down, so as not to cause more scenes in front of all the other nobles. After all, he wasn’t ready for a war.

“Another thing.” You called out to him as you opened the door. “King Gojo proposed to me. I told him no…” You confessed before seeing him for the last time. Sukuna didn’t even flinch at that. “… Don’t make me regret it.” ‘Pull’. You closed the door behind you as you watched his eyes go from frustration to hope.

You made your way into the dimly lit hallway, where the extinguished candles left a trail of smoke barely visible in the air. You had overcome the most difficult part of the plan; now all that was left was to escape. With bated breath, your eyes searched for an exit or a staircase that would take you away from the third floor. Each step resonated with a disturbing echo, reminding you that danger was not yet behind you.

“You have him eating out of your hand, don’t you?” That danger asked behind you.

You had left a demon behind, only to encounter an even more fearsome one. Commander Naoya emerged from the shadows, claiming his territory with an imposing presence. The moonlight outlined his sharp eyes and the impeccable cut of his elegant military suit. Your heart raced, invaded by a wave of adrenaline, as you realized he had heard everything.

“Is that how you do it? You give them a piece of yourself and then leave them wanting more?” He paced around you, a shark swimming in circles to corner his delicious prey. “Looks like you and I are more alike than you think.” He smirked at you before offering you his hand.

“You and I are not alike. I’m doing this for a greater good,” you commented before turning your disdain to his hand. “What are you up to?”

“I’ll help you escape,” he offered.

“Why?”

“I know this castle better than the back of my hand, I’m your best bet.” He evaded the question.

“I don't trust you.” You ignored his hand.

“As you wish, idiot. For all I care, you could jump out the window.” Naoya crossed his arms and ignored you, offended that you didn’t want his help.

“Do the windows open?” You saw that this castle didn't have the giant windows like the ones you were used to. These were small windows with handles to open them, so the air would circulate better.

"Of course the windows open, stupid," Naoya replied. After a few seconds of silence, he looked back at you, but you were no longer there. His green eyes widened when he saw you were opening the window.

"Hey, sorry!" He ran towards you to stop you from committing suicide, but he didn't reach you in time.

You threw yourself out the window, letting the abyss swallow you up. A déjà vu of the day of the hunt was drawn before your eyes, intertwining with the shadows of your nightmares. The contrast between the tenderness of your hero and the ruthless edge of your villain mixed in a mosaic of chaotic emotions. Was this the last thing you would see before you died?

The void seemed eternal, until the roar of adrenaline broke the moment. You belched out a scream that summoned the rainbow dragon Kenjaku had lent you. Its majestic body unfurled itself in the air, catching your fall with precision. You felt the controlled impact as you landed on its back, your back briefly sinking into its soft, dense fur.

You clung to it, allowing vertigo to give way to euphoria in front of the starry night. A wide smile lit up your face as you straightened up, confidently taking a seat on the creature. Your plan had worked perfectly, and victory tasted like freedom. Now, with the wind cutting through your face and phase one completed, you headed home to prepare the next move in your strategy.

“Thank you!” You shouted to Naoya who watched you open-mouthed from the window as you rode away on a dragon that had emerged from your body.

Naoya gritted his molars as he watched you escape in true sorceress chaotic style. He was frustrated, but he couldn't hate you. That had been extravagantly cool. “Damn,” he thought as he realized he had fallen into the same game you had King Sukuna entangled in. His cheeks flushed as he watched the girl who stole his heart ride through the air on a sublime curse.

“DAMN YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH!” He exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

THE UPDATE DATE WILL BE SUNDAYS FROM NOW DUE TO PROOFREADING! THX :3

Next →

Masterlist.

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady @danniwerner @paradisestarfishh

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

[neutralitymybeloved]

A lil bit of an idea that's been running in my head for a bit,

Immortal and/or invincible Bad Kids AU

Because of the lovely event in freshman year where they were all healed (and revived) by a phoenix egg (which think about it. An egg?? Of the ashy bird?? I'd assume it's pretty damn legendary) that it turns into a "you can't really die" effect of some sort.

But not the way Ayda does it, that's phoenix blood relation specifically. Just some sort of weird egg immortality where you can't stay dead.

Like, say Adaine died from a critical weapon attack. She'll get up maybe 2-3 rounds later? But for poor Riz that got fireballed, it'll take at least 4-5 days to reconstitute the burnt flesh. And scaring the shit out of everyone, leading to them figuring out they're immortal.

I can imagine Gorgug becoming the wild scientist of Aguefort since he's got the whole teacher thing going on. But then a student befriends him and finds out that hey he's pretty chill.

Adaine and Fig being largely unaffected bcs they’re gonna be alive anyway for a really long frickin time but now they can't really die? Maybe Fig will do some taking over Hell shit with Bill, and Adaine can finally burn Fallinel's government to the ground.

Riz kicks ass being an old Spy bcs for some reason no one really questions the nice grey-haired little green man walking by until he Black Widow style kicks you in the face.

Kristen’s already got weird shit going on with being the Saint of Cassandra? But yeah she's gonna have some fun in her now built up congregation going "back in my day"

Fabian's going to rub it in his elvish relatives faces first. Tell me Hilariel stayed in that egg bcs she's in the same boat as Telemaine. But yeah just be a kick ass pirate or a privateer, hang out with Ayda every so often.

[the-laughing-lunatic]

OH MY GOD TF2 WRITER!!! You are my savior.

ANYWAYS I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MERCS (more specifically Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer if you don’t wanna do them all) WITH A MALE S/O WHO IS CONSTANTLY DYING OR GETTING INJURED DUE TO BADLUCK?

(Of course! Hope you enjoy, thx for reqesting!)

Scout, Spy, Sniper & Engineer x a m!s/o with bad luck (ROMANTIC)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

☆Scout☆

Holy cow is it hard for him to get used to

You die at least once a day but he still cries like a baby whenever it happens

Denies it every time though

“Oh god, it never takes this long, what if my baby’s gone for good? That ain’t gonna happen, you’re bein’ stupid Jeremy. But what if it does? *sniffle* I mean, I- I dunno what I’d do, an just—”

“Hey babe! I grabbed some sodas for us on the way back from respawn, the vending machine was being a pain though. …you alright?

He’d immediately hug you and wipe away his tears. “ ‘m fine. Just glad you’re back, doll. Missed ya.”

Though this guy knows nothing about first aid, he’ll do what his ma always did when he got injured:

“Prince, stop freakin’ out and let me kiss your boo-boo better, kay?”

“Jeremy, I’m not ten, I can handle a tiny bullet wound.”

“Don’t care, c'mere sweetheart. You need some kisses from your hot-ass boyfriend to feel better.”

“What I need is a Medic.”

“C’mon, please?”

“...fine.”

☆Spy☆

Like Scout he’s also dramatic as fuck when you die

Falls to his knees and cries silently over your dead body kind of dramatic

He’s lost one of his lovers before, and it kills him to see it happen in front of him everyday

He’s absolutely terrified that one day you won’t respawn

Doesn’t like to talk about how he feels though, he wants to be strong for his lover

He will require a lot of quality time after you get respawned to calm his mind down that you’re okay

Cuddling, holding your hand in his smoking room, he just needs to be close to you

Helps you when you’re injured, though he does chastise you

(cue homoerotic fixing injuries scene)

“Mon amour, it was simply irresponsible of you to go into the sewers with your luck, it was reckless,” he’d say as he patched you up.

“But you dropped your watch down there, I had to get it back for you.”

“You are insufferably eager, my beau…but it is sweet. Never do anything like that again, though, I worry about you enough as is.”

“Awww, you worry about me?”

“Of course I do, je t'aime. Now shut up and let me help you.”

☆Sniper☆

We all know this guy is hella protective, so of course he’ll protect you even more with how much you get injured.

He’d want nothing more than to keep you in a locked room with nothing to hurt yourself with all day so no harm could ever come to you, but unfortunately that’s “weird” and “illegal”

He constantly wants to be around you to at least try to prevent the inevitable

Even during battles, he tends to double-check where you are on the map to make sure you’re okay, and if you’re not, see who hurt you so he could kill them

He may not have the most traditional sense of first aid training, he mostly knows natural tricks when you’re injured to help you. 

“Love, love, calm down, I got some razor strop for your cut there, ‘s like a bandaid. Fix you up real quick, spunk.”

He wants to take you camping but he knows he’d just be anxious about his boyfriend the entire time

“Mick, c’mon, I can handle one tiny camping trip.”

“You burnt yourself on the coffee kettle twice today. It was unplugged.”

“No coffee kettles in the forest though.”

“Can we just stay here where I know you’ll be okay, love?”

“But you wante—”

“I know, but anytime I spend with you makes me happy, okay? If you’re safe and with me, I’m grand.”

☆Engineer☆

This poor man

He’s worried sick about you all the time

You’re not allowed into his workshop anymore after a few too many incidents with the machinery

During battle he’ll constantly do what you want if it’ll keep you safer

You need a dispenser by you even if the rest of the team needs it somewhere else? He’s putting it by you

He makes you wear a spare hardhat of his in case an anvil falls on you or some shit (with your luck it probably would happen) 

Since you’re not allowed in his workshop it kind of forces him to be less of a workaholic so he can hang out with his boyfriend

Will stay by your side when you’re injured

“Dell, it’s sweet of you to stay while I have a broken leg, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with the rest of the team instead of here? I mean, it’s gonna be really boring.”

“Darling, I’m staying. I’d rather be here with you than at the snazziest rodeo out there.”

“Ach, young love. Now my patient, here is your paste you must eat. It is good for you, it has plenty of nutrients in it, and definitely not drugs you need to take. And your straw, now tschüss!”

“.....are you still sure you wanna stay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else, sugar.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[reijamira]

THK EP 7: Uh-oh, trouble in paradise. (My reaction.) 

I tried to stay away from spoilers, but I’m weak. I sneaked a few glances at my Xitter timeline and one at my tumblr dash. What I learned beforehand was: 

It’s Bison’s birthday, and Fadel gifts him a cute cake despite him being angry (Why angry?) 

Keen is spying on FadelStyle in the restroom (it’s a trend, right? JoongDunk have a restroom scene in literally every one of their shows. What's more: Dunk said when they met for the very first time ever, they also went together to the restroom to have a little chat. 🤣 Coming back after I watched EP7 to add: Now Style's comment about making friends in restrooms is all the more funnier.)

Fadel’s arm is in the sling. 

Fadel uses chloroform on Style. (Why??? 😭)

They do paintball. 

Style gets jealous. 

There is a scene with a husband? 

Style drives while Fadel points a gun at his head. 

Style, with his arms tied behind his back, clad in only his boxers, sits on the side of an empty swimming pool. (Help! I’m so scared!)  

That’s it! How does this all add up? Joong said on his IG today that it’s not a sad episode. Let’s see if he’s right. 

Wow, 1:09 hours long! Make that at least two for me. (In the end it took me three. 🤣) I will have to pause and rewind a lot. Roll around on my bed, hitting my pillow, squeeing and screaming. Like always. 😂 

My hands are cold as ice. I’m already so emotional and I’m not even two minutes in. Uhh! 

Oh Jesus, Bison’s fake smiles and his overly cute expressions! 🤣😭 

Those little kisses and pecks Kant gives Bison are so adorable. Oh my, he is so whipped. 

Omg! That scene with Style on that garage trolley! HOT! Love how Fadel gets Style to consider with a challenging “are you scared?” It’s always the challenges between them. 

OMFG, the dad!!! Muhahahaha! Lol he didn’t buy Style’s explanation! 😂😂

Style’s dad is so wonderful! I like him a lot. Yes, give Fadel a hint that Style loves with his whole heart! 

The scene with Kant and Bison in bed: It’s so tragic. If you know where Kant is coming from, it’s all in his dialogue. He thinks about family and work. Yes. Ooooh, my poor guy.

“No matter what happens, I’ll keep all the good memories.” Please, no foreshadowing! 

WOW! Bison just said “I love you, Kant.” And Kant said it right back! My heart is aching! Will Style confess his feelings for Fadel in this episode as well? 

Man, I really feel for Kant here. His broken expression. What should he do in a situation like that? 

I LOVE Fadel wearing Style’s shirt and him loving Style’s scent! 😍

Both Kant and Style have noticed and commented upon the fact that their boyfriends act weirdly. Interesting. 

Soooooo adorable! Fadel smelling Style, loving how he smells. Omg! He is an addict. 🫠 He looks like a cute dog. 

Please, no sad Fadel face! I can’t bear seeing that man so miserable. 

The paintball game is so much fun. lol Style’s worried look when he sees Fadel firing his gun. 😂

Bisooon, come on “lovers in the trenches”, “like we are going to die together”. Enough with this nonsense. This is a rom com. No one of the couples dies! Kant’s “we’ll fight through it hand in hand” is killing me! 😭 

Bison: “You gotta protect me, then. Don’t let anyone harm me.” 

Please, why so much foreshadowing?? 💀

Fadel saying Kant “started all of this”. Uhhhhh lord, the heavy double meaning! Style did notice something. 

I can’t with the heavy double meaning in this scene. Style doesn’t know that Fadel knows. 😭

Style: “Professional BB gun shooter” 😂😂🤣😂🤣😂 Saved at the last second. 

Fadel: “Make sure no one shoots me in the back.” 

And then their talk about trust. Whew! Love the subtext! 

FUCK! I knew it! They did intend to shoot them for real! Shit! Kant!! 

Okay, apparently, Bison did intend to shoot Kant for real? 

Ah, no, so there IS still a plan? 😭 

Whoah! FLASHBACK!

Not Bison burning their trophy! 💀😭😱

Uh oh!!! So, that’s how Fadel learns how Style got involved! Jesus! Bison just told him straight up. Intense! No, Fadel, don’t hit him! 

Gods, their shouting at each other was hard to watch. I know that Style and Fadel will also have a scene where they will be shouting at each other. I’m not ready for this. Not. One. Bit. 

No, Fadel, you weren’t happy before Style. You said so yourself. Stop lying to yourself! 😭🥺

My goodness, make them fall head over heels in love and then kill them. But they ARE already heads over heels in love! Just open your eyes and see!! 

Man, you are all so wrong! They don’t think you are fools, you FOOLS! Seriously, if any of you would just open their eyes and interpret the evidence (couldn’t resist the Hannibal reference 😄). 

HELP!!! I did not expect to witness Bison’s murder fantasies in such explicit detail! 💀😱

Oh, my heart is melting! Fadel, you adorable man! The cake is so sweet! With the little house! 🥺 They want to be safe and normal. 

Style and Kant in the shower. I love how positive Style is. It’s so refreshing. He really brings a bit of light in the darkness of late. 

Well, was that the husband from my spoiler? The disgusting guy with the death glare at Fadel and Bison? Maybe he is the shooter, not Keen? 

It’s getting exciting now! 

Oh no, not me tearing up about Kant’s thoughtful gift to Bison. 😍🥺

Not Fadel and Style watching this cute, romantic scene play out right before their very eyes. Fadel’s expression is getting to me. He had a partner once, who apparently vanished. Now he has a new partner, but this one is seemingly fake. 😨

Fadel saying Style is unique. My god, just lay it all on the table. All the cards. Enough with these games! 

WHAT!!! Style?? A ring and ask Fadel to marry you!!! Jesus, this is foreshadowing I LOVE! 

WAIT!! WHAT?!!? JESUS, WHAT?? WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE? 

For a second, I was worried, Style’s intended way to go was by poison! Look y'all, how worried Fadel got in a blink of an eye! Wasn’t he supposed to murder him? Doesn’t look to me like he could, though. 🤣 

Did Style really just cough up a ring? The fuck? Muhahahaha, this is such a Style thing to do! I bet Fadel found it secretly endearing. Yeah, look, he calls himself a fool. Yes, a fool for love. Good thing, Style’s love for you is genuine! Open your eyes, Fadel! And please, do marry him! 

Uhh, Fadel? What did you just intend to put into Style and Kant’s beer? 

What’s Keen’s plan? Appreciating the antiques?

lol Style, you are so naughty. Wash your hands first, please, would you? 😂 I bet Keen is perking up his ears now. 

I think Keen will set his eyes on Style now, right? I believe he had something to do with Fadel's ex, too.

Oh gosh, it’s happening! So, Keen wanted to shoot, but it’s the disgusting husband from outside the bar! 

Hahaha, Style! lol way to show your jealousy! 😂😂😂

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Everything I thought was WRONG! Bison gets stabbed!!! Not shot! And Fadel gets shot protecting the woman! My goodness! What a mess! 

Fucking hell! STYLE! Just like that, yes? Picking up a gun and training it at someone with a death threat on your lips. How freaking badass! 

What a captivating scene!! Jesus, lord! 

Huh, a broken arm? Thought he got shot? 

My boys, Fadel and Style! Just realize that there is genuine love between the two of you! 

No, no, no, don’t push Style away, Fadel! 😭😭😭

Kant breaks my heart. 🥺🥺🥺 No, man, I’m crying with Kant here. 😭

Oh shit, Kant! Bison! Behave!!! 

Hehehe, Captain Christ cursing is hot! 

No, but Bison’s crazy psycho look at Kant in the trunk was scary. And sexy.  

Nooo, the chloroform scene! Why, Fadel??! 😭😭😭😭

Nooo, I can’t watch this scene!!! Help! I was hoping it wasn’t Fadel who would do this to Style! 

Great cinematographic shot, btw. Style has a beautiful back. 

Good god, what is Fadel’s plan? (How did he even do all of that with a broken arm???)

Jesus, I can’t! Style said he loved Fadel! Man, this scene does my heart no good. It wants to beat out of my chest. 

No, what? Don’t hurt him! Whaaat??? You can’t end this scene on a gunshot and then nothing! What the hell?? 

Shit! Goosebumps! Oh my lord, that’s why Kant is afraid of the ocean! Jesus Christ! 

Oh, he really did jumb. For Bison! 😭😭😭😭 

NO! Not another cut! 

lol Style! Flirting with your enraged hitman lover. You sure love the rough, romantic side! 😂😂

What’s with the appreciative glances at Fadel? 🤣 Style, you are beyond help. 

Wellll, that was an emotional rollercoaster! I love this freaking show so much! Next week, we finally get the bathtub scene, y’all! 

What’s with the car bed scene? 

I think they will angrily shout at each other and the car bed scene comes right after that (Dunk said in a clip I watched on YT that both their voices were still raw from shouting at each other for a scene of THK.) 

Kant has to do penance with Bison. Poor man, but he did fall in love with the crazy one. 😂 

It looks like Fadel and Style get attacked? Is this the scene where Style gets his injury? 

Gosh, I can’t believe the seven days of waiting in doom and misery have begun anew. 😭

Joong was right. This episode had its heartbreaking moments, but overall, it wasn't sad, rather dramatic and scary and thrilling. 

[azacat-alias-lost]

Okay so artblock is being a bitch rn but i just had a BRAINBLAST of a crossover au idea

@sinisterspoon you're gonna lose your shit about this

So picture this. The TF2 Red mercs are getting back from yet another fight with Blu, and yknow its the typical banter n stuff. Then, out of NOWHERE, two people crash through their ceiling. One is a large, freckled man with whitening hair and a horribly stained blue sweater, knocked out cold. The other is a thin, dark-skinned man with salt and pepper hair and oh my god thats a lot of eyes. Holy shit. And they're all open. Dazed, unconscious, but open. He also has a stab wound that is healing unnaturally fast.

Medic is like "Well we should probably make sure they don't die" And so he does. He takes them into his clinic and is going to heal them, and maayyybe do a few experiments along the way. But before he can even make the first incision (he chose the smaller guy), the man's hand shoots up and grabs his wrist. In a voice tinged with the static of a tape recorder, he whispers..

"Where am I? I Know for a fact this isn't London"

Eventually, they both wake up, recover, etc. The Mercs are very intrigued as to where they came from, y'know with falling out of the sky and all. As they hang around each other more, it becomes exceedingly clear that they are Not Human. Fog, Knowing, the way the cameras move to watch them... Heavy is the first to point it out, and Engie is the first to confront them directly.

The Magnus Institute, London. The Fears. The Apocalypse.

Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood are sitting at the table with 9 unrealized avatars of the Slaughter.

What do they do? Well naturally, they ask the two to help in the Gravel Wars. They give them gear, test their abilities, and train them in combat. They connect them to the respawn machine, and familiarize them with the proceedings. The first (and only) time Medic tries to experiment on Jon, he nearly bites his arm off. Yeah, the end of the world kinda made him feral.

And so two new Mercs are created.

JONATHAN SIMS: THE INTEL - The Intel can certainly fight, although their damage is very weak. Mostly specializing in overseeing the battlefield, they give information and locations to members of their team. They have a spot on the map that they can go to view cameras, picking off Spies and warning of Snipers and Engineer's turrets. In this zone, they cannot be harmed, but no one else is able to get in range to be harmed by them. They also have the ability, (once per game) to pick one person on the enemy team and just absolutely obliterate them. Smite them, if you will.

MARTIN BLACKWOOD: THE WISP - A master of stealth, the Wisp has the ability to float around the battlefield like a cloud of mist. Just barely visible, they can hide in almost any place. The moment they materialize to fight, however, they become vulnerable. Extremely vulnerable. Their damage hits like a tank, but their defense is very poor. After materializing, they have a cooldown before they can turn to mist again. Their weapon of choice is a damage-heavy knife, much sturdier and more jagged than Spy's switchblade.

This is NOT what they thought their Somewhere Else would be like. But hell, it beats being stuck at the Supernatural Horror Collecting Factory.

"Where you go, I go."

"Always."

Anyway, please let me know what you think!! This has been rotating in my mind for a little bit and might be the best crossover I've ever come up with

[mags-writes]

Sunlight Masterlist

Summary: frank castle finds his match in a woman from another dimension

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Main Masterlist

PROLOGUE (you are here)

PART I || frank comes to stay

PART II || frank helps out in the kitchen

PART III || frank offers his shoulder for you to cry on

PART IV || frank gives you a call

PART V || frank contemplates homicide

PART VI || frank gets his worldview changed

PART VII || frank gets some insight

PART VIII || frank comes over for dinner

One moment you were walking down the street arm in arm with Matt Murdock and the next you were shrouded in darkness, alone in the rain. A flash of light, like something from a camera, was the only indication you got that something was about to change.

You'd heard of things like this happening. Flashes of light and then a missing persons report. It was happening all over the world and no one, not even the Avengers, had an explanation to give. The only thought running through your mind, despite the rain seeping into your shoes, was poor Matt would have no idea what just happened.

Everything looked similar although, you suppose, Hells Kitchen could look like any city in the dark. You took deep and calming breaths, willing the panic to subside long enough to get yourself together. You squared your shoulders and started walking until you came across a street name that looked familiar. The second you did, everything clicked, you knew exactly where you were in Hell's Kitchen, all you needed to do was hang a right, and three blocks down would be Josies.

You walked through the door and there were your friends like nothing had happened at all. Matt, Foggy, and Karen sharing drinks and laughing at something Matt probably said. You sighed in relief. Maybe you got lucky? Maybe you just randomly blacked out?

"Matt! Guys!" You grabbed onto Matt's arm, nearly hanging off of him. "You are never going to believe this. One minute I'm walking down the street with Matt and next thing I know I'm getting soaked-"

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Matt put a reassuring hand over yours on his bicep, frowning kindly in your direction. Ma'am was the first clue that had you stiffening. Matt not looking at you was the next. Yes, the man was blind but you were his girl in the chair, the one in his ear, and his makeshift nurse before you called Clair for help. Matt always looked at you. "Do I know you?"

The world stopped spinning.

"Matthew. Michael. Murdock." You said with wide and unflinching eyes and your tone made him drop his hand. "I have known you since your eyes could spy on the women's boxing matches that your dad dragged us away from. I did not just walk, at the very least, four blocks in the pouring rain for you to call me ma'am. Take it back."

"Uh, I'm sorry," Foggy leaned forward holding his hand out like he was about to try and move you away.

"Franklin Percy Nelson! Don't fuck with me!" You hissed, stiffening up further and giving him a sidelong glare that had him recoiling.

"Hang on Foggy," Matt said, before putting his hand back over yours. "Explain what's happened."

So you did. From the moment you woke up to the moment you walked in through Josie's doors. Every painstaking detail, telling him about the missing people around the world and the very, very disgusting and specific coffee order he gets.

"She's telling the truth." Matt said, completely shocked. "I don't know how, but she is."

"Listen to this," Karen piped up, looking down at her phone. "There are several reports of doppelgangers showing up in homes with similar or near identical memories of Earth citizens. And even more reports of formerly dead citizens showing up at their old homes they used to live in."

"How have we not heard more about this?" Foggy asked, throwing his hands up. "This is right up our alley."

"Probably because anyone who ends up in New York is weird enough to just blend in." You answered sarcastically.

"She's got a point." Karen shrugged.

[rosemary-rothlorein]

Victor Hugo: not relevant but there is an urgent need for a close-up shot of Enjolras.

Text was copied and pasted from wikisource.

3.4.1, introduction paragraph

Woe to the love-affair which should have risked itself beside him! If any grisette of the Place Cambrai or the Rue Saint-Jean-de-Beauvais, seeing that face of a youth escaped from college, that page's mien, those long, golden lashes, those blue eyes, that hair billowing in the wind, those rosy cheeks, those fresh lips, those exquisite teeth, had conceived an appetite for that complete aurora, and had tried her beauty on Enjolras…

Poor Enj, walks on the street and gets harassed by random passers-by.

Also Victor Hugo, next paragraph: now let’s talk about Combeferre, “He was less lofty, but broader. That’s all. Thank you.”

Enjolras, the believer, disdained this sceptic; and, a sober man himself, scorned this drunkard. He accorded him a little lofty pity. Grantaire was an unaccepted Pylades. Always harshly treated by Enjolras, roughly repulsed, rejected yet ever returning to the charge, he said of Enjolras: "What fine marble!"

Grantaire, are you sure you are there for Enjolras’s faith and (chaste, healthy, firm, upright, hard, candid) nature NOT FOR HIS FACE???

3.4.5, Combeferre’s être-libre big show

Enjolras, whose blue eye was not fixed on anyone, and who seemed to be gazing at space, replied, without glancing at Marius:

Thanks, Victor, for reminding us of something you said four chapters ago.

4.12.3, basically Grantaire’s love confession

Enjolras, who was standing on the crest of the barricade, gun in hand, raised his beautiful, austere face. Enjolras, as the reader knows, had something of the Spartan and of the Puritan in his composition.

Maybe the reader also knows Enjolras has a beautiful and austere face.

4.12.7, Javert’s identity is discovered.

"Spy," said the handsome Enjolras, "we are judges and not assassins."

Javert: …Why?

4.12.8, Le Cabuc’s execution

Enjolras, pale, with bare neck and dishevelled hair, and his woman's face, had about him at that moment something of the antique Themis…

Victor Hugo: I know one minute ago you were not doing anything intense, merely talking to Javert, but now I need you to cosplay Themis, so please get rid of your cravat and dishevel your (beautiful, golden, shining) hair.

Enjolras: …okay.

His dilated nostrils, his downcast eyes, gave to his implacable Greek profile that expression of wrath and that expression of Chastity which, as the ancient world viewed the matter, befit Justice.

Victor Hugo: Killing in the name of justice can easily get us into endless and heated ethical debates, and the issue is further complicated by the very situation, given it is a revolution, where a judicial system has not really been established. Let’s not get into deep water but make our life easier: this is divine justice.

Le Cabuc attempted to resist, but he seemed to have been seized by a superhuman hand.

Le Cabuc: I am armed, and I am evil and impetuous enough to murder someone without a second thought. Am I not supposed to fight this schoolboy?

Victor Hugo: No. You are supposed to be shocked by his beauty. And chastity.

Le Cabuc: Is that something I can tell by LOOKING AT HIM?

Enjolras ceased. His virgin lips closed; and he remained for some time standing on the spot where he had shed blood, in marble immobility.

Marble x2.

Jean Prouvaire and Combeferre pressed each other's hands silently, and, leaning against each other in an angle of the barricade, they watched with an admiration in which there was some compassion, that grave young man, executioner and priest, composed of light, like crystal, and also of rock.

5.1.3

Enjolras reappeared. He returned from his sombre eagle flight into outer darkness. He listened for a moment to all this joy with folded arms, and one hand on his mouth. Then, fresh and rosy in the growing whiteness of the dawn, he said:

…He literally says hey guys, we are going to die now.

Victor Hugo: Yeah I know. But light technician, light on Enjolras please!

5.1.5 barricade speech.

All at once he threw back his head, his blond locks fell back like those of an angel on the sombre quadriga made of stars, they were like the mane of a startled lion in the flaming of a halo, and Enjolras cried…

How can Victor Hugo forget to highlight his revolutionary gold boy’s beauty?

Enjolras paused rather than became silent; his lips continued to move silently, as though he were talking to himself, which caused them all to gaze attentively at him, in the endeavor to hear more. There was no applause; but they whispered together for a long time. Speech being a breath, the rustling of intelligences resembles the rustling of leaves.

No virgin lip this time. Good thing that Victor is learning self-restraint (but not for long, apparently).

5.1.8 the death of sergeant of artillery

And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras' marble cheek.

Marble x3.

Victor you are using Grantaire’s vocabulary.

5.1.23 the martyrdom of Enjolras

The audacity of a fine death always affects men. As soon as Enjolras folded his arms and accepted his end, the din of strife ceased in the room, and this chaos suddenly stilled into a sort of sepulchral solemnity. The menacing majesty of Enjolras disarmed and motionless, appeared to oppress this tumult, and this young man, haughty, bloody, and charming, who alone had not a wound, who was as indifferent as an invulnerable being, seemed, by the authority of his tranquil glance, to constrain this sinister rabble to kill him respectfully. His beauty, at that moment augmented by his pride, was resplendent, and he was fresh and rosy after the fearful four and twenty hours which had just elapsed, as though he could no more be fatigued than wounded.

(The most obvious evidence that this guy is divine. Human biology DOES NOT work in this way.)

It was of him, possibly, that a witness spoke afterwards, before the council of war: "There was an insurgent whom I heard called Apollo."

Were you at the barricade for the revolution or for something (someone) else???

A National Guardsman who had taken aim at Enjolras, lowered his gun, saying: "It seems to me that I am about to shoot a flower."

Le Cabuc symptom: brain stops functioning properly at the sight of Enjolras’s beauty.

Noise does not rouse a drunken man; silence awakens him. The fall of everything around him only augmented Grantaire's prostration; the crumbling of all things was his lullaby. The sort of halt which the tumult underwent in the presence of Enjolras was a shock to this heavy slumber. It had the effect of a carriage going at full speed, which suddenly comes to a dead stop. The persons dozing within it wake up.

Now we have music fading into a suffocating silence, light focuses on Enjolras, twelve guns arranged in a way according to the rules of one-point perspective. Your turn Grantaire!

[sulfies]

ight I need you to write a fic with that desmond/ezio drabble you made rn

Best I can do is another small blurb for the poor hungy orphans🫡 CostumeChange desmond part1 here

——

”So…”

They were seated across from one another, Desmond's foot tapping on the floor rhythmically.

”So?”

Ezio’s arms were crossed, posture relaxed now that he knew he didn't have an enemy spy ready to butcher his disciples. Since he could take in the other person and the situation properly, It was hard to not find it funny.

”How long did you, really, think you could pull this…”

Desmond sucked in an amused breath “Lets just say, knock on wood, If you were to die, they wouldn't have missed you.”

Ezio’s hand hit his knee “Bah, Not recognising your own mentor! If this wasn't a special issue that most likely won't repeat ever again, I'd say our brotherhood is in shambles.” He leans back more in his seat. “Surely you could have gotten supplies elsewhere or even gone to the merchants I go to, since I am assuming you know about them too. Why come here to parade around as… me?”

His tone still on friendly side, Desmond flinched a bit at the last question. “I didn't plan on acting as you… I needed assassin gear, so I came here to steal some. Right as I was gearing up some novice walked in and my hood was up, then they asked for some advice, then some others shoved up and you really need to be here more often Ezio…”

”Not talking about my schedules right now, Desmond”

”Right…” Desmond clasped his hands together foot still tapping “It's not like I sent them to missions or ordered around, I was just giving tips and tricks that you would have given anyway and-“

Hearing a throat clear Desmond looked at Ezio to get back on topic “Okay okay, but I finally got to be in THE Tiber Island hideout filled with people… so I got carried away a bit, give a man a break I wasn’t thinking the best. This is like seeing…. I don't know… Jesus’s house?”

Ezio could only roll his eyes fondly at the weird comparison. “Getting compared to Jesus is weird. Especially by you.”

Desmond chuckled “Ah yes… Especially since-”

“I am your prophet…”

The silence hung in the air for a few seconds. “Are you here related to that? Do I have to decipher some godly riddles again?”

Desmond shook his head so fast “No! No god no, It's not that. Y-you already did all you had to Ezio.” He swallowed a lump. “I had to get the message through you to save the world, I’m sorry they never explained anything to you.”

”And did you? save the world, I mean?”

Ezio’s hands were on his lap now, almost as shy as his younger 17 year old self rubbing his palms nervously.

“Yeah, I did… thanks to you”

“Bené” then he repeated it again, to himself.

[smilingformoney]

Rickmas Day 20: Wrongful Perceptions

Character: Hans Gruber (Die Hard) Relationship(s): Hans/Emily (OC) Warnings: none

Part 2 to Deceptive Kindness

Read on Ao3 or below:

“I never lied to you,” Emily began.

“You told me your name was Ammaline.”

“Everyone uses code names. Even you.”

Hans’ eyes narrowed. “How do you know this? My real name has been buried so deep for so long, even I forget it sometimes.”

“I’m good at my job.”

“Not so good. I found you out.”

“You did. I’m impressed.” Emily hesitated. She sat down on the side of the bed, then said, “I was going to tell you.”

Hans scoffed.

“Oh? And when was this? Once you had enough evidence to arrest me?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t decided yet. But I knew I had to tell you the truth, about… everything.”

“Everything?” Hans repeated. “So there’s more.”

“Don’t you think I’m kind of a shit spy if I haven’t gathered enough on you in five years?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“At first I kept a record of everything. Everything you told me, everything the others told me, everything I could find out for myself. Then… over time… I started leaving things out. Little details that were important in the long run. Like when I found out your real name.”

Hans raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“You didn’t tell them my name?”

“How many heists have we pulled without the police knowing? We rob a man in Cologne while they storm an address in Düsseldorf. I’m surprised I haven’t been fired yet with how many bad tips I’ve given them. But I always have an excuse. That Hans Gruber, he’s so sneaky, telling each person a different address so nobody knows the real target. How was I supposed to know I had the wrong information?”

“Am I supposed to believe you kept them off my trail on purpose?” Hans asked sardonically.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

She looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you steal from men too rich for their own good, and as much as you like to spend, you can never spend it all. You can hide some of it in offshore accounts, but only so much to stay under the radar. I’ve seen your accounts, Hans. I know how many anonymous donations you give.”

Hans shrugged nonchalantly. “The change has to go somewhere. I’m no Robin Hood. I steal from the rich to give to myself; the poor get what’s left.”

“You had 350 million Mark in ‘change’ last year alone.”

Hans said nothing.

“I’ve been keeping them off your trail for over four years,” Emily continued. “That’s why you’re never arrested. Some sacrifices had to be made, of course. I had to keep myself from getting fired. I had to give them some leads. Anton, Elias - I had to give them up so they had someone to arrest, something to show for it all. But you - you I kept safe, Hans. Without me, you might have been arrested long ago.”

“And you did all this for my charity donations?”

“No,” Emily said truthfully. She glanced downwards and willed herself not to get distracted by his open shirt. “I did it for you.”

Hans’ brow furrowed, as if he were having trouble processing what she was saying.

Emily tugged her robe tighter around her torso, as if it could protect her from the emotional vulnerability she’d been putting off for so long - for too long.

“I don’t expect anything in return,” she said softly, averting her eyes from Hans’ piercing gaze. “I don’t expect you to… want anything. Especially now. But you wanted the truth, and this is it. My job was to spy on you, but I fell in love and turned against my own country to protect you. I’m not proud of it. I know we’ve hurt people. I know you’ve… done worse. But love makes you stupid.”

She stole a glance at the gun in his hand.

“Whatever you want to do… I understand. But… if you were willing to forgive me… I can continue protecting you. If you’ll let me.”

There was a long silence. Emily wished she could know what Hans was thinking, but she couldn’t bring herself to even look at him, let alone ask him.

After what felt like an age, Hans lifted the gun from his lap…

… and placed it on the bedside table.

He slid closer down the bed towards her and lifted her chin to force her to look at him.

All the anger that had blazed in his eyes was gone. Instead, there was a curiosity, and something that was almost warm.

“You should have told me earlier, Emily,” Hans said softly. “All these years, so much unnecessary secrecy between us. Let us change that, ja? Only the truth from now on.”

Emily nodded, cautiously, trying not to give herself hope that she wasn’t going to be killed tonight by the man she loved.

“I shall tell you a truth in return, liebling.”

Emily’s heart fluttered. She held her breath.

“I was going to kill you tonight,” Hans said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” Emily replied, her voice wavering slightly. The use of past tense didn’t evade her notice.

“I cannot tell you how much it hurt, believing the woman I loved had betrayed me.”

Hans smiled as he watched her expression change.

“Another truth… I have never been so glad to be wrong.”

“Hans… I swear to you… I will never betray you.”

His lips met hers again, but this time it was so soft, so gentle, so different from the passionate, lustful kisses they’d already exchanged that night, it was almost as if this were their true first kiss.

“I believe you, liebling.”

[pyromaniacbibliophile]

Bricktober day 15- Voices

@lesmis-prompts

What people hear through the years

___________________________

Have you heard about our new mayor and monsieur l’inspecteur?

Did you hear about Fantine? 

Oh, you know monsieur Madeleine has fled the town?

Those Thenardiers, nasty pieces of work. You heard they stole a girl? 

Stole a little kid they did, use her to do their chores

Would've thought they’ve enough kids already, with the two girls and boy and two more on the way…

I’ve seen her, poor little mite. Looks like she hadn’t eaten for a month

Get to work

Do the chores

Greedy brat

Je t’adore, ma chere Euphrasie

Your mother never wanted you

I’m sorry for how they treat you, ‘sette

Did’ya hear about the man who took the little girl from the Thenardiers? 

He bought her a doll from my shop, didn’t he

Deserves some luck I reckon, poor thing.

.  .  .  

Have you heard the news? The Pontmercy boy’s in love with Cosette Fauchelevent!

You know there’s a revolution soon?

Les Amis, that student group, stirring up trouble again

The people will rise, they say. I don’t believe it, the bourgeois won’t lose power that easily

Lemarque sickens, have you heard? 

Monsieur Fauchelevent’s daughter is marrying that Pontmercy boy, you know?

Where did you hear that? Everyone says he’ll marry the Thenardiers' daughter

I heard Marius Pontmercy was leading a revolution? 

What, Marius lead a revolution? That would be Enjolras, Marius is to soft for leadership.

Lemarque is dead? 

Where did you hear that?

A gamin, just now. Said to spread the word. Reckon it’s Thenardier’s son?

They want riots in the streets and a barricade at rue Saint-Denis!

Who?

The revolutionaries, of course!

Will you join the revolution?

Can’t be any worse than now. You?

Please, I’ll praise the king before I go to a child’s barricade

I don’t know, they have some good ideals

. . .

Have you heard of the revolution? How goes it?

They caught a police spy, you’ll never believe?

They might last the night, but they can’t win

Don’t be so cynical, they have a shot, surely?

It’s over now. They shot the leader last. Even now he lies dead on the top floor of the Musain.

Did you hear the cynic Grantaire died with the leader? 

They loved, I reckon. 

They were too young to die. Maybe we should have helped? 

We have families. They didn’t.

 

Do you know Pontmercy was rescued? 

By who?

You’ll never believe, but they say Fauchelevent! 

I was made to clean the streets with other women. Washing away the revolution. It’ll have to just be stories now. 

But there’s bloody handprints at the Cafe Musain, didn’t you hear?

 

Have you heard, they dragged the body of an inspector from the Seine this morn?

They say it was the police spy from the barricades, but he was shot. Wasn’t he? 

You know, I feel sorry for Azelma Thenardier. 

Both her brother and sister died, didn’t they? 

Heroes, at least. 

Small comfort, a dead hero can’t help their siblings. All know the Thenardiers’ reputation? 

Someone should arrest them. Them and that damned Patron-Minette.

I heard the leader of the Patron-Minette was in love with someone from the barricades..

Doesn’t change a thing though, does it? 

Nothing changes. 

Nothing changes?

Nothing changes...

Nothing changes.

Rien ne change

Non cambia nulla

Nichts ändert sich

Nothing changes. 

(Tourne, tourne, tourne du même côté)

[room217prayer]

Tamlin’s week - Day 6 (Spy / Warband)

Day six of @tamlinweek, can’t believe I made it this far! (sorry day 3, maybe one day I will come back to finish you)

This fic is something that immediately came to my mind while reading the prompts and I hope I did a good job with it.

Important Info/Tags: mention of violence and blood, Tamlin is forced against his will to transform into another person, so that he can spy the Night Court.

As always, the dividers are thanks to @olenvasynyt ♥

This is quite short, I will probably expand it in a fic of four/five chapters, so take this as a premise of sorts!

I hope you’ll enjoy it! ♥

Night’s Rose

Tamlin looks at his reflection in the dingy mirror that was the water in the basin and... hates himself.

For being weak.

For not being able to go against his Father.

His High Lord who demanded this of him.

Forcing him to take the place of the poor Illyrian his brothers caught and killed, so that he could spy on one of the war-camps of the Night Court.

He looks again at the face that wasn’t his, at the dark hair and the glimpse of wings weighting his back.

He can’t help but hate himself.

Hate this farce, the... He breaths in slowly, trying to calm himself.

He shouldn’t let his emotions – his fragilities – get the better of him.

“One month” he whispers, trying to lull his guilt and nerves “just a month and then you’ll be free”

Even saying that tastes like a futile lie on his tongue, but he tries to believe it.

He has to.

To make thing more unbearable, beyond the mockery – the insults – there’s one more point that makes this all so much more stressful for him: the camp he ended up having to stay at.

The one that was of the warrior he now fakes himself to be, Bellrien.

Which was no other than the Windhaven camp: the one where Rhys and his friends – brothers, he reminds himself. He always called them that – came from. Or belonged to.

He still... had difficulties to understand the culture of the Illyrian, not like Rhys had ever told him in details anything useful, that he could use to his advantage in this situation.

Well, apart for one thing: he did teach him the way of their style of fighting.

One hand came to hold one of the handle of his daggers.

The gifts the other Fae had gifted him: which was, almost ironically, the only thing he had now that was truly his and at the same time his perfect weapons of infiltrating the war camp without arousing too much suspicions about his... lack of knowledge.

A bitter chuckle left him, in the reminder of the other blessing he had in his sleeve: the man his brothers caught had been an orphan.

No family would cry for his death, no one to mourn his spilled blood.

No one to recognize that the boy who went to a walk in the woods never came back.

Not like anyone would even try to notice, since the other warriors and novices at the camp never looked twice in his direction – weak they whispered, throwing more insult in the open, right at his face.

So yes, Bellrien was the perfect disguise and at the same time not the most efficient for what his Father needed and wanted from him.

Tamlin felt a new wave of hatred toward himself just thinking those thoughts.

He was the worst, wasn’t he?

The moment he got out of a tent he realized that yes, things could get worse.

Much more so, because apparently Fate truly hated him just as much, considering not only he had the ominous whispers of a sort of ritual or trial, maybe it was both, coming soon, that by the name of it couldn’t be anything good.

Nothing called the Blood Rite could be something easy and wonderful, let's be honest.

Especially if he thought how another young Illyrian the other day called after him, wondering if he would be made to participate at all – he called Bellerien a bastard – and if they did he wouldn’t be just as lucky as the other two before him

He had quite the vicious smile when he said he would die the first seconds it began, maybe thanks to his own blade.

So yeah, just that had made him thought that he should be quick in trying to gather what his Fat-... High Lord wanted from him, so that he could get out before thing could get worse.

Except they just not only got worse, they literally plummet the moment his green – no, hazel, almost gold eyes – met the figure of Devlon, the war-lord who ruled Windhaven, talking to three figures he knew all too well.

The feeling of dread in his guts came true when he spoke to all the warriors gathered.

“These three Carynthians, proud warriors who fought and succeed during the war, are here to train you all for the upcoming Blood Rite. Consider it an honor no one else has ever received”

Oh, Tamlin immediately avoided the violet eyes that began to observe each and every warrior in front of them.

Things couldn’t get worse, could they?

Thinking just that made him think that of course they would, if everything until this moment proved him so.

What would happen if Rhys found out it was him? That he was here to spy on his Court by his Father’s orders?

Fear quickly made him promise one thing to himself: to find a way to not catch their attentions and to stay low.

Yeah, he just had to be invisible, to not make himself visible.

“Just don’t be yourself and everything will be fine”

Spoilers: Yeah... He'll be himself just fine, and yes, things won't go the way he would've liked for them to go.

And with this the sixth day story is here! Yes, this is more a premise than a real chapter - consider it a prologue fdsfsdf - but I hope you still liked this idea. ♥

Thank you again for all the likes, appreciation and kind words you’ve given me and I hope you all are enjoying and having fun during this week! ♥

See you (hopefully again) for another Tamlin’s week day! ♥