#the other reasons are actually blurry however | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alexiroflife · 6 months ago

Text

"possession"

ryomen sukuna x reader [modern au]

Synopsis: you meet a strange, attractive man whose god complex that you have yet to discover proves to interfere with both your self-respect and the law.

to sum it up: sukuna is a man who sees himself above all people and is obsessed with you. when he gets jealous, he copes in sadistic ways

WC: 8,540

Warning(s): violence, mentions & use of a weapon, death/homicide, yandere themes, possessiveness, vulgar language

Your body trembled viciously as his figure stood over you, tall, prideful, and oh so frightening.

Your vision was blurry. You could hardly see what was standing directly before you due to the stress of the previous events and the tears that blurred your vision. Your hands gripped each shoulder as though your own body heat was the only thing that could save you now.

Unfortunately for you, however, nothing could save you from the looming presence of Ryomen Sukuna, black painted nails releasing the trigger of the gun he’d just pulled on your now deceased coworker.

It wasn’t that you liked the recent victim of Sukuna’s wrath any more than the next stranger. In fact, you had deemed him to be rather annoying. He had always found ways to pop himself into your day to day, whether it was by lingering next to your cubicle at the office for ten minutes too long before lunch, running into him on a whim at the grocery store and finding yourself subjected to his poor attempts at getting you to spend one on one time with him outside of the office, or waking up to a new follower on your Instagram- his name and profile greeting you desperately when you glanced at the screen.

You knew exactly what he was after, but you had paid him no mind. You were hardly a stranger to advances from acquaintances or passerbyers. After all, as well as your looks, you carried yourself in such a way that exuded class and mystery, poise and effortless beauty. You didn’t speak much to those who were not close to you, which was perhaps why you had gained so much attention. Your silent charm needed little to no verbal introduction from yourself. You caught enough glances simply by minding your own, keeping to yourself, and accomplishing your goals all rather contently. You did not desire the attention of other men, which, luck would come to have, was why you had always subconsciously gained it.

And gaining Sukuna’s had been a fluke all on its own.

The man kept to himself just as much as you did, but in a far less innocent way. He lurked about, observing, judging, despising, taking it upon himself to dispose of any being he deemed a pestilence to his existence. The god complex Sukuna embraced alone was enough to send you running, but for some reason when he first approached you, you did the exact opposite.

He was forward. Brazen. He had observed you days before actually meeting you, walking mutely into your office building from a nearby alleyway. He watched your thighs shift with each movement you took beneath the tight pencil skirt you adorned, heels clacking against the pavement deliciously. Though you had a reserved energy about you, you kept your chin held high and your eyes forward. You weren’t hiding, per say, but you were entirely too occupied with your own business to bother keeping up with the business of those around you. You weren’t shy, you were focused. Attentive. Not easily distracted.

Sukuna could not have understood why your presence intrigued him so much, to the point where he was waiting around your place of work until you clocked out, following you home, and memorizing the path you took to and fro so that he could organize a way to force himself into your life. Sukuna had witnessed and learned so much of humanity, how people concerned themselves so heavily with matters of each other to the point where they allowed their incomprehensible need to stick themselves into all matters led them to war, death, and the collapse of civilizations simply for them to be rebuilt by the next generations and for the same patterns too continue.

Human beings were so incessantly concerned with how others viewed them, with how the next person would react to the way they put one foot in front of the other, with whether their family members approved of their lifestyles or if their friends thought their hobbies were intriguing.

It was truly pathetic how human beings lived for each other, how many women so pitifully clung to his arm for a chance to even be considered someone he would spare a second glance at. Sukuna enjoyed the submission when it served him well, but Christ, were they all so whiny and needy, so desperate for someone else to see and love them when Sukuna made it perfectly clear in each circumstance that he could care less about what a weak girl could do for him beyond sexual subservience.

But you, you did not even look at him when you brushed past him and into the cafe that you visited regularly. You hardly even spared him a glance when he approached you at the counter as you were waiting for your coffee. It had angered him at first. Truly enraged him to see you refuse him so politely without even having to say a word or spare a glance. You could not have cared less what he wanted to say or had to offer, and it pissed him off but simultaneously sparked a desire to control you. One that he had not experienced for quite some time. You would make him work for it, and that in itself sparked his interest.

He wanted to own you, to possess you. He wanted you to belong to him, for you to come at his beck and call, for you to abandon your selfishness and crawl to him on your knees, crying, pleading for his touch and affection. He wanted you to be a mess at his feet, to be his plaything, his pet. He wanted to conquer you and bring those pretty (e/c) eyes of yours to tears as they finally snapped up to look at him.

“You,” his voice had greeted you gruffly.

You jerked slightly, turning to your left to find a tall figure leaning against the counter beside you. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed him before. Your mind had been running over a project you had been assigned last minute in your head, and you were so occupied with your thoughts that you had completely missed the intimidating presence wafting off of the figure beside you.

He was a sight to look at, you had to internally admit to yourself. Spiky salmon hair splayed across his forehead and crimson eyes the shade of fresh blood boring into yours. His build beneath a black sweatshirt and sweatpants was bulky, muscles stretching the sleeves of the almost loose fabric. His eyes were bored, yet his brows were angled as though he were agitated. What for, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but shift beneath his unwavering gaze, for he stared at you as if you were the only person standing in the cafe.

You glanced behind you, looking around to find the person this odd man may have been addressing instead, but when you found no one you turned back around. “Me?”

His lips quirked up at the corners, a smile threatening to touch his mouth. “Who else does it look like I’m talking to?”

His voice was so deep, it practically rumbled the floor beneath your feet. He spoke lowly to ensure that you knew he was speaking directly to you, but his words were crisp and perfectly clear.

You were unsure of how to respond. Guys had approached you many times, but never in such a straightforward, expecting fashion. Never with such power, such overarching confidence that made you think just for a moment that you would stay a while to share a word or two with him.

“Can I… help you?” you asked cautiously, uncertainty swirling through your mind.

“What a silly question,” he sighed, tilting his head as his bicep pressed into the marble of the countertop, one knee bent while the other stretched out so that he was lounging rather casually in the way of the ‘pick up’ window.

His eyes glinted with mischief, shamelessly roaming over your body. You had the sense to take a small step back, which only fueled Sukuna’s lust for dominance over you. You watched as a wide smirk settled on his face, eyes drifting lazily back up to yours.

“Are you scared of me?”

The question caught you off guard. You could feel your lips curling in discomfort against your mind’s will, yet your heart panged with what you could not differentiate between what was either excitement or unease. His eyes carried such vibrancy as they danced across you, almost as though they weren’t human. Though unnerving at first glance, the man surely was attractive in a rather unusual, alarming way.

The way his lips, however, stretched over sharp pearly teeth with a smile that could only mean that he was up to no good struck your hesitant curiosity.

“I don’t know, should I be?” you questioned in return, raising a brow.

How unassuming and bold you were.

He replied with only a smug grin, tilting his head back as he gazed at you over his nose. “What’s your name?”

“Why should I tell you? I don’t know who you are.”

“That’s precisely why I’m asking. So we can get to know each other,” he hummed.

God, every red flag was waving aggressively in the back of your mind, screaming at you to take off into another direction, to turn away, grab your coffee, and walk out like nothing happened, but there was something deep within you that kept you planted there. Was it intrigue? Attraction? Perhaps a spell that had been cast on you to make you forfeit any pinch of sense you had left?

You weren’t sure, but whatever it was made you want to stay. You wanted to see where this would go, what line this oddball would throw at you to try to get you to come home with him.

You were nothing but completely and utterly curious.

But you know what they say about curiosity.

It kills.

You weren’t going to tell him your name, at least. You were smart enough to attempt to keep that barrier, but the universe had other plans. Before you could say anything more, the barista reached forward and slammed a styrofoam cup before you.

“Order for (Y/n)!” she announced loudly, looking directly at you with kind eyes. “Here you go, see you tomorrow!”

You smiled tightly, swiping the drink up in your hand. “Thanks, have a good one,” you said through a strained breath and clenched jaw.

The pink haired stranger pushed himself off of the counter slowly. He hummed intriguingly, half lidded eyes eating you alive. “(Y/n),” he repeated, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

You shivered.

He held out a hand before you, the other shoved into his pocket. You examined it, the veins running across the back of his palm, the dark paint on his fingertips, the peak of tattoos sliding sheepishly out of his sweatshirt sleeve.

“Ryomen Sukuna.”

You didn't know what demon on earth possessed you to grasp his hand and shake it.

From that point on, Sukuna kept his interactions with you secluded to the cafe. He would wait for you to walk in, share a few words with you, hit on you shamelessly, then watch you walk to work from his spot at the counter.

You convinced yourself that there was no harm in the matter if he was only speaking to you in a public space. Though it was strange that he only came to the cafe to see you and that he never ordered anything, you figured it was better than him trying to turn up to your place of work or follow you after you had grabbed your morning coffee.

Sukuna observed you meticulously each time he saw you. You stepped out of the house very professionally, with your hair pinned up and your clothes modestly hugging your figure. You wore a bra and underwear beneath your clothing to maintain an appropriate appearance at work, which aggravated him to no end.

You wore little makeup over your face. Just a bit to cover a scar here or there and eyeliner to accentuate the shape of your eyes and gloss to coat your plump lips.

You had also grown more expecting of his company. While you remained reserved to some extent, you engaged in subtle banter with him each time he pushed his advances.

“Still holding out on me, princess?” he would ask with a sinister smirk.

“Don’t call me that.” you would reply, turning your head to hide the amused smile that touched your lips.

Thoughts of your lip gloss smearing over his mouth snapped into his mind at the very sight of your smile. He was going to ruin you.

Sukuna normally was not one for waiting, but he decided he would make an exception just this once. He wanted to make you feel safe, to ease into the attraction he knew that you felt toward him. He knew that if he tried to force you into him so early on, you’d turn away. And normally that wouldn’t have been a problem for him, but this was a game of minds. He needed you to want it before he moved, he needed you to prove that your facade of disinterest would fade and only fade for the sake of his domination over you, and he needed you to want it so badly that you’d cry for it.

So, he took his time.

Three weeks in, he asked to walk you to work.

Who were you to say no now that the two of you had grown so acquainted? What was the harm in a walk, after all?

On that walk alone, however, Sukuna observed something else about you. He observed how men’s eyes would linger each time you walked past and how you kept your gaze forward, completely numb to or unbothered by or disinterested in the stares. He noticed how quickly men would jump to hold the door for you when he would stop just at the entrance of your office building, glaring down at the poor soul who had managed to reach the door before he got a chance to. He noticed how consumed others were by your presence, how easily you made people stop and stare without trying or without caring. Sukuna knew thousands of women who fought ten times as hard to get half of the attention that was bestowed upon you throughout your daily life, and yet you did not care.

He could not understand what it was about you as he lifted his foot from the puddle of blood and brains he had stomped in hours after he had tracked down the poor sap who’s eyes flashed over your concealed tits on your morning walk together. He could not understand how you, a human, carried such an enticing presence, how the number of hands he severed and tongues he ripped out doubled over instead of reducing. How, no matter how many of those filthy pests he slaughtered for even glancing your way, there would still be more, and more, and more.

He was growing restless.

Over a month had passed, and Sukuna had yet to throw himself onto you. He himself was not even sure why by this point. He knew everything about you. What time you woke up in the morning, what your morning routine entailed, how you liked your coffee made from the cafe, the things you enjoyed talking about and looking at on route to work, the projects you worked on, what your favorite meal at lunch was, what time you clocked out, the days you put in overtime, what time you went to sleep- he had completely engraved himself into your life when it should have been the other way around, but for the first time in his life, he just did not know how to proceed. You were different, you were strange, you were just as much of a brat as any other woman, but you peaked his interest so much that it was enough for him to pause and ask why.

And Lord, you were gorgeous, one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen. Your (s/c) skin, your (h/c) hair, your supple figure, your laugh, your smile. You belonged with him, you were meant to be his, but fucking hell, he was beginning to grow impatient.

He knew that to some extent he was succeeding at getting you to be his, too. You were talkative, sarcastic, playful with him. Your eyes constantly met him when you talked and you had begun looking for him everywhere, in everything you did, in everything you felt. He had become a constant in your routine so quickly that the thought of him not nearby had begun to feel strange.

The tension that carried between the two of you was hardly a secret either. His eyes were heavy with desire, deep and mesmerizing, voice smooth like the slither of a serpent’s each time he bent over to whisper a joke into your ear or lowly call your name in address. His frame could put that of a god’s to shame though he often kept his muscles concealed due to the dreary weather, and his hands, oh his hands. The way they pressed to the small of your back to move you out of the way of something in your path, or reached to grab your coffee before you could and lift it to your lips, or how his veins bulged each time he grasped the handle of a door for you.

You wanted him bad. You couldn’t deny it anymore, but you still hardly knew him. He hadn’t revealed anything about his personal life to you other than his name. He didn’t work by the looks of it, and you had no idea where he was from or where he lived. He was a basket case, but that surely was not enough to ease the ache between your thighs that came each time he spoke to you, voice dripping with playful lust.

Sukuna could see you gradually melting before him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he wanted more, he had to have more from you, but what could he get without pouncing on you and springing at the wrong time?

“Have dinner with me.”

You paused before the door to your office building, turning to face Sukuna with parted lips. You needed to clock in within the next five minutes, but the crimson eyed man’s request had thrown you off kilter.

“Huh?” you breathed.

His face was hard, rather emotionless. His hand gripped the door above your head, his arm hovering over you as he looked down into your eyes. He looked deadly serious, not a trace of amusement anywhere to be found on his face.

“You heard me, woman,” he said gruffly. He leaned down, closing in on you, nose inches away from yours. “Have dinner with me.”

You had never been flustered by a man before. You were raised to be unaffected by their advances, to find little enchantment in the bare minimum that man graciously brought forward as though it was the world on wings. You had always been indifferent to men’s responses to your beauty, to their inviting hand, to their promises and boasts and pretty lies. You had wanted none of it, for you found your occupation and making a living for yourself to be far more important than matters of another man’s heart.

But the way Sukuna was looking at you, the way he caged you in as his gaze drank in the sight of you, the forwardness of his tone signifying that he would not take no for an answer, the mahogany scent emanating from his clothing and skin. He was intoxicating, and you both knew it, but for some reason you could not fight the burn in your cheeks and the rush of your blood.

“Are you asking me out, Sukuna?” you whispered.

His name sounded fucking incredible on your lips, where it belonged. He wanted to hear more. He needed to hear more. For fuck’s sake, he was tired of waiting. Tired of this little game he had forced himself to play. He needed you.

“You’re not an idiot, you know damn well what I’m doing.”

He was always so mean, the way he talked. Mean and vulgar and you shouldn’t have been aroused by it, but you were desperate for him. You liked him and you wanted him. Why? You weren’t sure.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” Sukuna groaned. “Dinner. Tonight.”

“Ask me nicely and I’ll think about it.”

The tan skinned man’s teeth ground together, eyes slimming in agitation. You were so mouthy. He could have left you high and dry, completely abandoned this whole ordeal for giving him so much attitude, but he shamefully enjoyed it. He enjoyed how you tested your limits with him and how you didn’t even care about doing so. He enjoyed how you thought you had control, though you only held it because he was giving it to you for the time being.

He wanted to shut you up so badly, to throw you around, to wipe away that confidence instilled in you.

So he asked you to dinner.

“Don’t order me around, you brat.”

“Well then I guess I’ll have to turn down the offer,” you shrugged. You were quick to turn over your shoulder, leaving Sukuna reeling in shock. “Thanks for the walk. I’ll see you for lunch, yeah?”

Sukuna used his free hand to snatch your wrist in his and yank you back into him. You stumbled, a squeak squeezing past your throat as your body clumsily clashed into his. Your eyes went wide, your cute lips finally clamped shut. You stared up at him innocently, like a deer in headlights.

How cute you would have looked with that face if you were down on your knees before him.

He breathed in slowly, eyes raking over your face as he squeezed your wrist gently, holding you close to him. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheek. You looked down, face blazing and heart thudding so loud you were sure Sukuna could feel it against his chest.

He smiled.

“Cut that out and look at me when I talk to you,” he demanded, releasing your wrist to tilt your chin up with his index finger. Your glossy (e/c) eyes met his once more, the space between the two of you so small it should have been a sin.

“Sukuna, I-I need to get to work-”

“Not until you say yes,” he interjected, gripping your chin softly. “No games. Come have dinner with me. I’ll pick you up at nine.” He raised his brows, tilting his head up. “Hm?”

You could barely find the words to give him an answer. “I didn’t peg you for a dinner kind of guy,” you murmured, mind growing fuzzy with the feeling of his fingers on your chin holding you in place so that you couldn’t look away.

“That wasn’t an answer, (Y/n),” he mumbled firmly. “Dinner. Yes or no.”

You were hardly sure that he was going to let you say no, but you responded as though you had a choice in the matter anyway, for you couldn’t deny the eagerness that sparked in your gut when he proposed the notion.

He continued staring, waiting, watching. Eventually, you nodded as though in a trance, eyes never breaking away from him. “Okay.”

Sukuna grinned, finally releasing you from his hold. “Wonderful. I’ll see you tonight, then.”

You stumbled back, slightly discombobulated, unsure of whether what just transpired was a trick of your mind or indeed reality.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself again, turning mechanically to enter the building as Sukuna proceeded to hold the door.

He could feel an urge for misconduct overtaking him as his smirk widened, watching in anticipation as you walked away. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

He was about to release the door when he felt a man brush past him and into the doorway, having taken advantage of a gesture that had been meant for only the girl ahead. “Hey, thanks man!” the brunette called over his shoulder halfheartedly.

Normally, Sukuna would have been irritated, but would have blown it off simply because he didn’t feel like bothering with such an insignificant interaction. He would have likely kicked his foot out so the guy could trip and then he’d go on about his day, leaving behind whatever idiot who sought to leech off of him out of pure convenience, especially since it seemed that this man was running late.

Sukuna would have walked away, thinking about all the ways he would consummate his possession over you within the next few hours leading up to your date without a single care in the world if what happened next had not caught his eye.

He watched the brunette, hair messy atop his head and a briefcase clutched under his arm, rush up behind you and gently touch your waist with his hand in greeting. You turned to identify the owner of this hand and visibly grew bored when your eyes landed on the kid’s face, but he proceeded to attempt to entertain you.

“You look nice today,” he had said. “Did you do something different with your hair?” he had said. “I followed you on Instagram last night, you should follow me back.”

You had not even responded with anything more than a disinterested hum as the two of you rounded the corner to the elevators, out of Sukuna’s sight. You didn’t care, but oh, did Sukuna find far more fault in that interaction than you did.

His smile completely wiped from his face and the door slammed in front of him after releasing it. The muscles in his eye twitched, his pupils shrank, and nose flared. He stood ominously still, frozen in his own rage, and something snapped inside him.

How dare that guy touch what was his?

This led you to where you sat crouched in the alleyway. Your date was meant to begin thirty minutes ago.

You had dressed up pretty in a small black dress and heels, hair down, legs bare, and chest exposed. You were a pure sight for sore eyes, drop dead gorgeous, and Sukuna was sure to tell you when he arrived at your home after you had texted him your address. Of course, you hadn’t known that Sukuna already knew full well where you lived.

You noticed something off about him the moment you opened the door. He wore a navy button up that was free of its first three buttons, leaving his chest tattoos exposed. His shirt was also untucked over wrinkled pants, and while you hardly expected him to dress like royalty, there was something rather… sloppy about the way he appeared before you that night.

And his eyes, those bright red eyes were alight with passion. A crazed look touched his irises as they gleamed in the street light. His hair was slightly ruffled too, and a wide, eerie smile revealed each and every one of his sharp, pearly whites. He did not look well, not mentally, and at that moment, you could feel your heart begin to sink to your toes upon the realization that something very wrong was about to happen.

He pulled you out of your doorway without even giving you a chance to lock the door and led you to a coupe parked sloppily next to your apartment complex. He held the door for you, and against your better judgment, you stepped in, wanting to blame your sudden discomfort on nerves or paranoia.

Sukuna rounded the car with thudding footsteps, throwing himself into the driver’s seat and pulling off with alarming speed. You kept your hands folded in your lap, eyes staring blankly ahead as your heart thudded against your ribcage. Sukuna was acting so strange, almost manic. Perhaps he struggled with mania and was having an episode? Or maybe he was just as anxious as she was, and was acting strangely due to nerves over his first date after a long time alone?

You wanted to make excuses for him so badly, to believe that this was some kind of misunderstanding, but deep in your gut, you knew that you were in danger. You knew that something was off and that this night was heading into a dark direction.

Sukuna said nothing as he drove, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement the only sound filling the rather empty silence. You tried to regulate your breathing, looking out the window frantically to attempt to memorize the twists and turns you took about the city. It wasn’t long before the car was slowing down, rounding an empty street and turning into a secluded alleyway.

You began to panic. It was dark and completely vacant aside from Sukuna’s car, which was now parked in the middle of nowhere. You sat up, whipping your head around to attempt to grasp an understanding of where you were and how you got here. Your eyes were blown wide and your panting had now grown audible.

Sukuna released the stick shift and leaned back, taking notice of your antsy behavior. He cooed, turning the car off and leaning over to you, resting his elbow on the back of his seat rest and grazing the back of your hair with his free hand.

You jumped, pressing your back into the corner against the window and curling your knees to your chest. You looked horrified, like a poor antelope facing the hunger of a lioness. Sukuna had previously thought that he wouldn’t have gotten off on this fear from you, but hell, had he been wrong. The freight in those glossy eyes, the wobble of your lips, the way your breasts threatened to pool out of the fabric of your dress with each heavy breath you took. He loved it.

“Come now, don’t fuss,” he urged gently, hand reaching to brush the side of your cheek. You tried to tilt your head up and away, but there was nowhere for you to run. “You don’t think I’m gonna hurt you now, do you?”

Your mind played a trick on you. Perhaps he wasn’t going to hurt you. Were you overreacting? Allowing your anxiety to motivate your reaction instead of logic?

You gulped a breath of air, eyes darting around frantically as Sukuna’s thumb brushed your cheekbone. “Wh-” you breathed. “Why are we here? What’s going on? Sukuna, where did you take me?”

That breathtaking, troublesome smile appeared on Sukuna’s face again as he admired her. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he spoke giddily, like a man on the verge of a mental break. “Don’t be so quick to go crazy on me. Relax.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, confused, afraid. You didn’t like this one bit. You didn’t like the look in Sukuna’s eye that accompanied the chaotic driving and the bizarre atmosphere.

You swallowed down a pool of saliva, body shaking involuntarily.

Ruby eyes melted over your body, watching the way your flesh trembled with your limbs.

“You dressed all pretty for me, huh? Tryin’ to get lucky on our first date, princess?”

“Sukuna,” you whimpered, pressing yourself further into the glass. “Why did you take me here?”

He stared at you for a few seconds longer before a hefty sigh filled his chest. He leaned back into his seat, pushing the car door open swiftly. “I’ll show you in a second. Be patient.”

The car door slammed behind him after he stumbled out. Your body jerked and you began to panic once more. You tried to shrink in on yourself, to make everything go away. You tried to gaslight yourself one more time into thinking that this ‘surprise’ would be pleasant, that this was some kind of twisted joke that Sukuna wanted to play and you’d be back at a nice restaurant in minutes.

You wanted to tell yourself that you wouldn’t have agreed to this date if you had believed Sukuna to be dangerous, but you couldn’t even convince yourself of that for more than a second.

Your gut instinct had been warning you to stay away from the man the second you met him. He was always isolated, yet he was charming. Alarmingly so. He placed himself into your life, stalking around for you at a coffee shop and waiting until you were comfortable for him to start asking to walk you to work. You had given him your number, your work address, your home address, access to your personal life, access to your vulnerability, and all the while your gut was begging you to turn away, to let this idea of this attractive man go before you got hurt.

But you stupidly chalked it all up to unwarranted paranoia, to fear of growing close to someone after having been closed off for all those years. You thought that something within you was trying to hold you back from finding happiness, that though Sukuna was hardly the person you would go for, you could have given him a chance, even if it was casually.

And that mouth of his should have been the telltale sign. The way he ordered things rather than asked for them, the way he looked at you with such expectation in his eyes, as if he knew you would fall for him in only a matter of time, as if he had planned it all out so carefully. It was all so disquieting.

You thought that a month had been enough time to know someone, but boy, were you wrong.

You shivered as the car rocked with the thrust of the trunk being opened. You could hear and feel a struggle as Sukuna lugged something heavy out from the back, the vehicle wobbling with the commotion. Suddenly, the car jumped forward as a thud hit the ground.

Your brows arched, but you didn’t dare to turn to see what was happening behind you. You didn’t want your eyes to confirm the first, dreadful thought that popped into your hand.

Heavy footsteps rounded the car again and Sukuna was outside your window, pounding on the glass. You ripped yourself away, turning to face him with petrified eyes. He yanked the door open, reaching in and grabbing your forearm to pull you out.

You cried out, horrified of what was to possibly come. Was he going to kill you?

“Shut the fuck up, Jesus,” he hissed, yanking you from your seat and pulling you onto your shaking feet. He closed the door behind you, pressing your body to him as you hyperventilated, hands tucked into you under your chin. “Shhh, quiet,” he pressed his lips to your ear, his voice lulling to a tender tone. “I won’t hurt you, but if you scream, I will have to punish you. Okay pretty girl?”

A weep broke past your lips as you scrunched your eyes closed, the reality of your situation crashing down like a tidal wave.

His hand gripped the back of your neck tightly, your body tensing beneath him. “Okay?” You nodded hysterically, sniffling as tears brimmed your eyes. “Good girl. Come on, now.”

Sukuna’s hands pressed firmly to your waist, guiding you forward to behind the car.

You didn’t open your eyes. You kept your face tucked to Sukuna’s chest, absolutely horrified to see what he was prepared to present to you.

You felt Sukuna stop you from moving. You trembled as he leaned in close beside you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, firmly.

A tear dribbled down your chin as you shook your head. “S-Sukuna, I can’t. Please-”

“Open. Your fucking. Eyes.”

With no other option, with no access to control, with your life at stake, you opened your eyes.

Your vision took time to adjust at first. The darkness of the alley hardly allowed you the privilege to see much ahead of you, but as you casted your gaze down, Sukuna’s ‘gift’ registered within your sight.

You smacked a hand over your mouth, stifling a scream. Sukuna’s hands caressed your back softly as you took in the sight, breaths stuttering into feeble gasps.

There before you lay your coworker, the very coworker who had been persistently flirting with you since the moment you arrived at the office. He lay unconscious, mouth duct taped shut and ankles and wrists bound tightly by rope.

But his face… you could hardly recognize it. It was bloodied and bruised beyond comprehension, features mangled into each other as though his head had been bashed in repeatedly. Blood matted into his chestnut hair and stained the white collar he walked into work wearing that very morning.

He looked half dead.

“There, see?” Sukuna exhaled contentedly, moving to step around you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he chuckled, gesturing his arms out as if presenting a show. You stood in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape behind your palms. Tears spilled down your chin, dripping onto the ground and over your fingers.

Sukuna lowered his arms, a perplexed expression meeting his face. “What?” he drawled out. “Don’t tell me you cared about the guy. You didn’t look too interested in hearing what he had to say this morning.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You were paralyzed with devastation, with heart stopping, blood curdling fear.

Sukuna shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning over to examine the body at his feet nonchalantly.

“I mean, I can hardly see why you’d care about him now, of all times, either. He doesn’t even look like a person anymore.”

He raised his leg and landed a harsh kick to your coworker’s head, his skull snapping to the side then falling limply against the pavement. You choked out, tilting your head down to avoid the scene.

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Please, he’s just another insect at the end of a long line of pests I’ve killed for you.”

You stopped, lifting your bloodshot eyes to find Sukuna’s figure in the darkness. “W-What?”

“W-What?” the tan skinned man mocked, chuckling darkly afterward. “I told you before, you’re not an idiot. Stop acting like it.”

“What do you-” you lowered your trembled hands and revealed your tear drenched face. “You’ve… you’ve killed people before?”

“Again. You ask too many questions that you already know the answer to.”

Your skin went cold. You stumbled backward, tripping over your own heels and pushing yourself back against the brick wall. Your eyes were huge, terror-stricken, and your mascara was running, leaving dark streaks down your darling cheeks.

What a pretty sight, Sukuna thought.

“What the fuck,” you hissed, head rolling on your shoulders as you registered this confession.

Images of Sukuna reappeared in your head, the way he smiled at you upon greeting you at the cafe, how his eyes flooded with such passion when he looked at you, how he followed you around as if he never wanted to lose sight of you.

And you had liked it. You had looked forward to it. You had fallen for it all. You had grown blind to the signs that were blaring all around you because you actually liked him.

And here he was, standing before you with your half dead coworker at his feet, telling you that he had killed before- and for you, at the matter.

“What the fuck! What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” you cried, griping your hands in your hair. How could you have been so stupid?

“Here come the hysterics,” Sukuna grumbled.

“You- You’re a murderer! You’re a fucking murderer, and I let you- fuck!”

“‘Murderer’ is such a restrictive term,” Sukuna sighed. “That’s not what I am.”

“What the hell are you talking about! You’ve killed people! Look what you’ve done to a person I work with!”

“Princess, you have no idea what I am or what I can be,” he said deeply. He took a step forward, making slow strides over to you. You were quick to shuffle away, keeping your eyes glued to him as you tried to slither out of the space between the car and the wall. “I’m so much more than what you think,” he grinned. He sounded insane.

“Get the fuck away from me,” you barked. You were a mess, tripping over yourself, choking over your own words. Sukuna watched you, amused, taking his time as he approached you. “Get away!”

Your heel got caught against the rubber tire of Sukuna’s car, leading you to fall backward onto your back, your leg twisting beneath you. You winced, sweat beading your forehead as you looked up and found that Sukuna was already hovering over you.

He was slow to crouch down to meet your height. You leaned back on your elbows, watching as he leaned over you predatorily.

“Please,” you whined, anger melting into desperation. His red tinged palms reached out to your knees and slid up thighs, massaging the plush skin with lazy eyes and a lazy smile. “Please, Sukuna…”

“Keep begging, princess,” he slurred, craning his neck to press a soft kiss to your temple as he trapped you beneath his mass. You had never realized just how big he was until this very moment, his biceps caging over you and chest lingering inches away from your own. “It turns me on,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, twisting your head away. This was wrong. This was bad, he was going to harm you, but you still could not deny the way his warmth swallowed you whole and how the softness of his lips against your head almost manipulated you into forgetting what was happening.

“C’mere, (Y/n),” he urged. “Don’t run from me.”

He pulled away to look down at you with those intoxicating eyes.

“S-Sukuna, you’re a monster,” you stammered through hushed, heavy breaths. He seemed unfazed by the accusation, for he had been called many things before.

“Come. Now.”

You did not have another choice.

You cautiously pushed yourself up from the ground, allowing Sukuna to wrap his arms around you and pull you up into him. He sat up, bringing you along with him to sit atop his thigh. He lifted your legs over his and rested his hands on your upper thigh and lower bum.

You sat stiffly, head pressed against the car door from the angle you sat. “Look at me.”

You obeyed.

He lifted his hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, smearing your mascara across your face. “You’re pretty when you cry.”

“S-Sukuna-”

“Quiet,” he snapped. “I’ve spent this past month doting on you. Trying to figure out why you caught my eye. When I first saw you in that tight skirt and those damn heels, I knew I wanted to fuck you.”

You stiffened, pressing your lips together tightly as he proceeded to wipe away at your tears.

“I know you wanna fuck me too, yeah?” he hummed. “But you’re not an easy girl. I see the way you act around men and how they act around you. You couldn’t give less of a fuck how they practically grovel at your feet. It’s kinda funny, you know? Seeing how pathetically you’ve got these people acting, but I’ll be damned if you don’t pay attention to me.”

His hand moved to cradle your jaw.

“I knew you were mine the second I spoke to you. But all these fucking insects keep trying to get in the way. Keep thinking they got a chance with you, so I have to put them in their place. Six feet under the ground.”

Your brows curled and your lips turned down, lump forming in your throat.

“But even so, none of those guys had the balls to touch you. They’d just look at you. Dream about you- dream about touching you. And that was enough for me to have to get rid of them, but then I saw the damndest thing this morning after I had just asked you out on a date.”

He jerked his head backward, gesturing to the body laying on the ground.

“This fucking moron walks past me and puts his hand on your waist, and starts telling you how pretty you are and all this shit. He was complimenting my woman. Touching my woman. Trying to fuck my woman. You know I had to do something about that, right? I couldn’t just let that slide, and I couldn't afford you making me look like a pussy.”

You furrowed your brows. “I wasn’t-”

“You’re mine,” he growled. He gathered your cheeks in his hand, yanking you close to him. You winced, scared eyes forced to stay on his for the umpteenth time. “You belong to me. Nobody else gets to touch you, nobody else gets to talk to you, and nobody else gets to breathe your air. You’ve given me the greatest headache of my fucking life and I won’t let a puny man try to challenge my name or try to take what rightfully belongs to me,” he spat, giving your head a jerk. “I’ve killed more people than that pretty little head of yours can count, and I’ll keep doing it as long as people like him so much as spare a glance into your direction. I’m done playing games with you, girl. You’re stuck with me.”

There was no air left for you to breathe, no room for you to even respond to what Sukuna was saying to you. The man hadn’t even properly tried to date you, and he had already taken ownership over your entire being, to the point where he had taken lives.

He smiled condescendingly at you, taking in your sloppy features. “But you wanted that, didn’t you? You wanted to be mine?” He pulled you in, lips practically brushing your squished ones. “Say it. Tell me how much you want me.”

You hated how despite his heinous crimes, despite his brutality, despite his unbridled possession over you, you still reacted helplessly to his force, to his touch, to his voice, to his presence. Those eyes of his could have pulled you into a trance, devilish smirk churning something deep within your gut.

He killed people. He was about to kill your coworker. He saw himself as a god, as above people. He was insane. He saw you as an object, something to physically possess. He didn’t respect you. He never did. It was about control.

But those eyes, but that voice, but those hands, but that goddamn smile.

You were putty in his hands, though your mind screamed at you to push away and fight back, to call the police, to land a blow to his face.

You were terrified of him, but he had you just where he wanted you. You were too weak. Weak for him.

“Say it,” he teased, leaning further in, brushing his lips past yours and pressing them to your damp cheek. “Tell me you need me. Say my name.”

You hated yourself in that moment. God, you wanted to hate him too, and you did, but not enough to pull away. Not enough to fight back. Not enough to muster up whatever self respect you had lost and say to hell with him.

Your fingers reached to clung to the collar of his shirt and you could practically felt his smile widen against your skin. He eventually released your jaw and your lips parted, the intimacy of his closeness melting your mind and blurring your senses. You swore this man was a drug.

When he leaned back to look at you, the same sense of expectation lingered in his eyes. He knew that no matter how far he went, no matter what he did, he would have you wrapped around his finger. He had broken past the wall you’d forced up. He’d tricked you into trusting him, into needing him, into yearning for him. He had succeeded in his goal, having found a way to make you submit to him willingly. To make you say and do as he pleased.

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but the warmth of his palm sliding up and down your bare thigh, far softer than he’d ever handle the people who have died at his hand, and his piercing gaze awaiting your response as his forehead brushed against yours was enough for you to give in.

“I need you,” you sobbed out, pathetically. “I need you, Sukuna.”

He beamed. “There it is.”

His lips were on yours in seconds, molding passionately to meld into the shape of your mouth. He could feel a fresh set of salty tears slip down your face and he pushed in harder, grabbing the back of your head and gripping your hip securely. He tilted his head, plunging his tongue past your lips to entangle heatedly with yours. You tried to pull back to breathe, but he had none of it.

He pressed you back into the side of the car, devouring your lips as if you were his last meal. You reached your arms up and around his neck, pulling him closer, sinking into the vibrance of his grip and his lips against yours. He groaned, yanking your thighs close and slipping a hand between them, large digits dancing over the warm plush of your inner thighs. You moaned softly, brows pinching together as sharp teeth sank down into your bottom lip.

You gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself from the dizziness he made you feel. He yanked away, ducking down to nip at your neck. “Mine,” he hissed, curving into your soft body, breathing raggedly.

You nodded mindlessly, tilting your head back as Sukuna marked all over the expanse of your throat. His lips smoothed all over you, trailing down to your collarbone and over your breasts. His teeth were sharp, breath hot, lips wet and velvety despite his hardened exterior.

He picked his head back up, kissing your chasing lips gently before pulling back, kiss-swollen lips cracking a smile. “I almost forgot,” he began.

You looked at him in a daze, eyes hazy as he slipped your arms from around his neck. He carefully maneuvered you off of him and stood. You watched him blankly, disoriented and heated. You observed him grab the handle of the back seat to his car and yank it open, leaning over the seat to retrieve what you discovered to be a gun.

Suddenly, the haziness of the previous moment had faded, the weapon clutched within Sukuna’s hand breaking the glass cage that he had trapped you in.

He loaded it, pushing the ammo into the slit by the hilt of his palm with ease and pointing it upward. He turned over his shoulder to smirk down at you as you drew your knees into your chest, gradually registering what you were now involved in.

“Let me take care of this kid first, princess, and then you’re all mine.”

#jjk fandom #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk s2 #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna au #modern au #anime #sukuna smut #yandere

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threeacttragedy · 17 days ago

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Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, “Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?”

I’m probably one of the few people in this fandom who find Antonia entertaining.

Goddammit – put down your fucking pitchforks!

I didn’t say I liked her – I simply said I found her entertaining.

If Antonia’s existence bothers the fuck out of you, you’ll likely enjoy my commentary here.

*And, right about here is when I’ll slip in my disclaimer: this is my opinion only; merely speculation based on information that is out there in the public realm.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes, Antonia. I don’t find her entertaining because I think she’s a great dancer. Is she? You tell me. I mean, I have two left feet so just about anyone is better than me.

And, I have never seen a picture or video where she’s made me “like” her as a person. In fact, she comes off more like a villain, but not a brilliant villain (I might like her, then). She’s more like an Iago to, say, Deux Mois’ Jafar.

I just find her so fucking reckless, but in the most amusing way possible. If she were a movie, I’d give her 4/5 stars. The movie would be a low-budget comedy, of course.

In my opinion, she loves to troll the fandom and I’m convinced she must have notifications turned on for Nicola. The patterns started patterning early on during the World Tour (and probably before). The problem is, she’s just not great at trolling. Her attempts always fall flat, and she ends up making herself look like, well, a tryhard (hence why her movie only gets 4/5 stars).

I’m not sure what Antonia ever was to Luke but, at a minimum, I will (begrudgingly) say they dated. I know some people don’t want to hear that, but she was a player in this game for a reason. Rumor also suggests she, at the very least, squatted in Luke’s flat (and I don’t mean in THAT way).

That said, I believe she was officially taken out of the game at the end of July. However, that doesn’t mean she wasn’t still making noise from the sidelines.

One of the most humorous (in my opinion) “rah rahs” Antonia pulled was on September 28 when she posted some stories of herself at a theatre. I’m not sure if she could have been any more obvious when trying to show us her phone screen. The screen was lit up, her thumb pressed against it, and angled almost directly at the person taking the picture. We get it, honey. You want us to see what’s on your screen. Not surprisingly, it appeared to be a blurry ass picture of Luke.

Big whoop, right? Well, actually it was because the Conscientiously Stupid took this as confirmation Luke and Antonia were together (again) and the Sincerely Ignorant swallowed their cyanide pills without water (again). And, the Fact Finders, while trying to resuscitate their dearly beloved Sincerely Ignorant friends foaming at their mouths, immediately called “bullshit” (again). The picture appeared to be old and, to be honest, it was too blurry to tell who was on the screen – although I will concede it could have been Luke. In fact, I tend to believe it was an old picture of Luke based on what happened next.

The problem with Antonia’s play style is that she doesn’t seem to catch on to the rules. She moves her pawn two spaces because she can, not because it advances her game. She has this nasty habit of ignoring, say, the opposing party’s pawn, which is in position to en passant her overly confident pawn.

Nicola had been living high on life throughout the month of September, which, in my opinion, is quite possibly the reason why Antonia seemed a bit unhinged by the end of the month (jealousy can make us do crazy shit). Among other things, Nicola had the Emmy’s (and the Wordle), the Gucci show, and, on October 1, she was presenting Simone with a Glamour Award. By this point, I believe Nicola had had enough of Antonia’s gameplay. The phone screen had struck a chord.

So, what does Nicola do?

She plays the game right back but not like she normally does with Scrabble boards, Dewy Skin Creams, and BTS wedding footage dropped at the perfect moment. This time, she does it with a power move that left her hands virtually spotless.

On October 3, Halley Brisker, Nicola’s frequent hairstylist, posted a set of four pictures to his Instagram grid, three of which showed Nicola casually posing for the camera and one showing Nicola in the process of having her hair done. It was the latter picture (#3/4 in the slide deck) that perked every Lukolas’ ears.

Low and behold sat a man, his face conveniently covered by a hairdresser’s arm, but his hands in full view. Hands that, at this point, we (embarrassingly) know too well. To date, no one has debunked the theory – more like, assertion – that the man in the picture is Luke.

Nicola liked this post by Halley, and even commented, “You legend [red heart emoji].” You’re welcome to read between the lines on that one.

I’ve always believed this Halley Brisker photo dump was Nicola’s very clever, albeit indirect, way of telling Antonia, “Checkmate, bitch.”

The point of this entry is not to convince you that Antonia is a red herring (she is), or that Luke is in the Halley Brisker photo dump (he is), or that Nicola plays the game better than most (she does). No, the point of this entry is to tell you Antonia’s game is over (because it is). Antonia lost.

So why does she remain on the roster?

Because, collectively, we as fans keep her there, sitting along the sidelines in her collapsable camp chair making noise with her cowbell. We pay attention to what she posts. We talk about what she posts. We argue over what she posts. We panic about what she posts. WE keep her in the game.

How about we don’t?

Why not start off this week with a positive change? And, not just for the USS Lukola, but for yourself as well.

If you’re following Antonia on social media (for sinister reasons) – stop. Meander over to Instagram, X, Tiktok, whatever, and unfollow her. Don’t look back. Stop checking her page. If you see or hear she has a new post, ignore it. Move on. The first day will be hard. But, the second day will be easier. You know where I’m going with this…

I mean, Luke can’t quietly unfollow her if we’re constantly looking in that direction, right?

P.S. If you need more convincing that Antonia’s shelf life has expired, I have a CliffsNotes response for that: https://www.tumblr.com/threeacttragedy/767137910999957504/great-blog-but-if-all-was-not-good-with-l-and-a?source=share.

P.P.S. Moving forward, I don’t give two boiled rabbits about what Antonia does. I will most certainly refer back to her in a historical sense (she does fill in bits and pieces of the Lukola timeline), but if she posts a crockpot tomorrow, don’t expect me to comment on what could be in it.

P.P.P.S. If you have any understanding of what the little chessboard I’ve dropped in to my picture means, I salute you.

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #my thoughts #speculation only #my opinion

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sytoran · 9 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 || mdg pt. 5

timelines and lifelines have torn you and natasha apart, but the two of you are bound by the child you have created. though subjected to earth, loki, god of mischief, dangles the possibility of a future with natasha by making you a god.

pairing: goddess!natasha x mortal!reader (not for long)

note: this is the 5th installment to the goddess!nat universe, as per the 4k celebration! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains depictions of violence. this series is 18+ only.

word count: 1.8k

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

Previously…

Your relationship with the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff, comes to a screeching halt. Torn apart by timelines and lifelines, you’re not coping well, and neither is Natasha — especially when she finds out she’s pregnant with your child.

On the other side of the universe, Loki, God of Mischief, breaks into your apartment to offer you a deal. Worse still, he eats your leftover pizza.

Now…

When you come back to consciousness, you feel like you’re floating. Not in the whimsical, psychedelic cocaine-induced way, but in the Help-I’m-Physically-Suspended-In-The-Air way.

And it is true, much to your demise, because despite the fruitful hours of work spent in the gym, your arms and back can’t quite handle the excruciating pain of being strung taut like a rope.

Against the will of every screaming cell in your existence for you to fall the fuck back asleep, you forcefully sit up and open your eyes.

It takes about two seconds for the headache-worthy hangover to sink in, and three seconds for you to regret every godforsaken decision you had made the night prior.

Last night- oh, fuck. Last Friday night.

(No, this isn’t going to entail a radio pop song with a curly black-haired Katy Perry, because the only curly black-haired one in this story is the God of Mischief himself. Both equally as sassy, but expounding on that would fracture the entirety of the space-time continuum.)

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Speaking of the devil (quite literally), Loki forces you to bring your blurry gaze up to the cocky expression painting his angular face.

“Fuck you,” you spit, dry and hoarse, memories surging through your teetering consciousness. All you were aware of was the mother of your problems was the man himself.

Now, you were suspended like a puppet in your very own living room, strings of golden magic encircling your body, keeping you stretched to the edge of insurmountable agony.

“Funny,” Loki says dryly, eyes raking over your pathetic form. “That’s exactly what you said last night that put you in this position.”

You would’ve laughed, truly, if not for the ache in your ribs and your back and your– you get the point. “You offered me a proposition,” you comment, licking your cracked lips with distaste.

“And you said ‘fuck you’ and threw up three bottles worth of alcohol on my ridiculously expensive snake-scaled shoes before promptly passing out from your hissy fit of a heartbreak.”

“Deserved.”

“I will hang you upside down.”

You roll your eyes – however much you can roll them in this position. “You gave me an offer. That means that I had a say in this, and I certainly did not consent to take part in this BDSM-worthy fantasy of yours.”

Loki scoffs at this, shifting in his seat. Your seat, actually, his black robes draped over your armchair like it belonged to him.

“My sex life is none of your business, and more than often entails men,” Loki begins, putting a finger up. “The only reason I’m taking interest in a hopelessly lovesick woman-lover is because you have something that I want.”

You exhale roughly, lungs and ribs screaming in protest. You weren’t of a godly status by any means, but based on his identity and the fact that a God was lurking around Earth, you were competent enough to figure out what he wanted.

“You wanna get back to the land of the Gods,” you state, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Like me, you’ve done some shit that made SHIELD put a target on your back. Except it’s ten times worse, considering you’re a God. That’s why you’re here. What you want is connections, because I have – I had – a relationship with Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha.

It pains you, to even put it in the past tense, that what you had with Natasha would only ever be history.

“Oh wow,” Loki responds, acting shocked. “There’s actually more to you than this himbo attitude you exude.”

You don’t give him the pleasure of a response to his provoking, despite your incessant need to sucker-punch that face of his. But uncovering his plan has that layer of composure slipping, for a second, and you delight in it for what it’s worth.

"Put me down first," you say instead through gritted teeth, looking up with a ferocious glint in your eyes.

"Say yes first," Loki answers promptly, folding his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied grin.

"Put me down and or I won't consider your absurd request," you try again, a wracking cough making your stomach lurch in pain.

"Funny you think you're in a position of power," the arrogant god taunts. "Who's to say I won't torture you to the brink of death until I get what I want?"

"...Who's to say I'd eventually break?" you say finally, narrowing your gaze. You sure as hell were scared as fuck, but you had to survive. "Threats only work on people who've got something to lose. I'm forbidden from ever seeing the love of my life again – I've got nothing to lose, y'know? No amount of torture will get you what you want."

Your little speech of sorts, delivered with an unwavering tone despite the pain coursing through your body, plays out perfectly. Loki's gaze is unreadable as he contemplates upon your counter-proposition.

Unceremoniously, you're dropped to the ground, hitting reality with a grunt of pain. “Shit,” you wheeze, clutching at your ribs with sore wrists. “Warn a girl, man.”

Loki waves you off dismissively. “The pain won’t matter anymore.”

“Wait,” you struggle to say, reaching out to nothingness as the man closes his eyes and raises his hands to the lands you once roamed.

It’s only then that you realise you’re surrounded by candles, so many candles. You’re in the center of some kind of ritual board, and what you assume are ‘offerings’ circle you.

From skulls to black flames, you know something is wrong. Very wrong. Loki is muttering incantations under his breath, a language beyond your human tongue, and the pressure in your room rises to an extent that forces you downwards.

“What,” you ask, exhaling roughly against your cracked ribs. “What kind of God am I going to become?”

Your question goes unanswered, lost in the swirling black flames that surround you. Loki’s eyes open again, and this time they are completely black. He begins a chant, crafted from an inhuman tongue, a language you’d never heard before.

That’s when the pain starts.

You scream, brain waves throbbing, a loud ringing sound echoing in your ears. Psychedelia takes over your conscience, producing images all around you, dark and distorted and everything you thought you’d buried.

“ибяѓюгэю юдякиэҁ, эиѫч ҩ рэд.”

Unbridled darkness, enemy of peace.

Natasha’s face is at the forefront of your mind, unblemished and happy and everything you’d ever wanted. You reach out, spluttering and breathless, trying to grasp that wistful memory like it’d materialize in front of you, like she could ever be yours.

“бцэт юҩщи ҩцядрҩи дю ғдг ҩця ҩиэҁ.”

Put down your weapons and fall to your knees.

Her face gets shattered into smithereens, scattered throughout the dark swirls of your mind, overtaken by shadows. Horrifying screams and flashes of a graveyard overwhelm you, and you yell through the misery for the love of your life.

“тҩ фэн тнэ юэҁѓяэ ҩғ џэиəэдисэ lə'”

To quench the desires of vengeance and rage.

Fury slugs through you, as you crawl away from cold hands that pull you back. “No!” You yell, but your voice is not yours anymore. The only thing to describe what you feel is chaos, darkness creeping in from the shadows, a slithering worm into your ear, a rotting carcass and the stench of carrion.

“ҩҁэ бҩиэҁ сдҁт ҩғ ҁсчнэҁ дию бдюэҁ.”

To see bones cast of scythes and blades.

The world snaps from reality, and you get flung into a different dimension. This place you’re trapped in is unfamiliar. You’re standing on a pile of dead human bodies, and there are ghouls and demons cheering your name. Blackness seeps through your veins, infiltrating your mindwires.

“Revenge,” you spit, a devilish noise, and the cheers rise again.

You scream, as black wings tear through your back, ripping your collared shirt and spreading towards the sky. You launch from the depths of whatever hellhole that may have been, an inhuman screech echoing around the void, soaring towards the heavens in search of the one you’d lost.

“ҩѫэҩя, гдск-щѓəэю юэџѓг, эт ндҁ иғцяг”

Come forth, black-winged devil, let chaos unfurl

Upon descending on holy ground, unfamiliar faces intrude into your mind, prominent and unmistaken. Backlogged information begs its worth — God of Thunder. Goddess of Magic. God of Science. God of Justice.

Then one word rings above all, high and mighty, and the darkness of your mind clears to reveal the people that had taken your Natasha away.

SHIELD.

“энҩгю яҩѫ нэг, ҩю ҩғнэ Циюэящҩягю.”

Behold from hell, Ruler of the Underworld.

Reality drives into your side like a thousand semi-trucks, bright and flashing, and then you’re back in your living room. You stay on the ground, all-fours, spluttering and gasping for air.

Natasha.

Black wings flap behind you, resplendent and marvelous. Those had been real.

Arising from the ground, gone is the fear in your eyes. No more shreds of hope. No more sense of justice. Your blackened eyes burn red, searching for Loki. He stands in the corner of the room, and he seems so much smaller now, compared to you and your bloodlust.

“She was mine,” you growl, dangerously, fearsome and inhuman.

“She is yours,” The God of Mischief answers, marveling at his creation, for there was nothing that could stop you now.

***

“Rockabye baby on the treetop,” Natasha sings softly, a hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. Colours sweep into galaxies as nightfall arrives, cloaking her land in gentle beauty.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” As if on cue, the wind gets a little chillier. Worry clouds Natasha’s face, edging in on her safe haven.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” A holographic image of The God of Justice materializes before her eyes. It meant that it was an urgent message, from one God to the next.

“The SHIELD base is being attacked by an unknown force. We’re in grave danger,” Steve says, urgent and frantic. Screams and chaos can be heard in the background, and the God barely ducks a crashing marble pillar.

Natasha almost scoffs and switches off the image. The Gods had ignored her very existence ever since they had banished you, which was convenient in hiding her pregnancy, but at the same time rather annoying, now that they were begging for help.

That is, until Steve persisted further. “Natasha. This perpetrator has power beyond measure, dark power. It could even exceed Loki’s.”

“......What does this harbinger of hell want?” Natasha asks, steely eyes surveying her homeland.

“Natasha,” Steve repeats, weary eyes hooded with anxiety. “They’re looking for you.”

Down will come baby, cradle and fall.

so that happened.... any thoughts about our new and improved y/n, ruler of the underworld?? loki rlly stirred up a lot of shit huh

reblog or no y/n x natasha reunion

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst #marvel #sytoran's 4k celebration #wlw fiction #wlw #gxg #natasha romanoff angst

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botanyshitposts · 3 months ago

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Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.

So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.

All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!

Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs

There are so many plants out there!

ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.

when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??

what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.

another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.

i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.

case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.

another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol

finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.

anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):

#this was so long. did not mean to make it this long #long post #asks #plont asks

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sansaorgana · 2 months ago

Text

— KINGDOM OF DISTURB

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Despite being locked inside his fortress, you cannot complain about being Sauron's Queen. You are surrounded by luxury and your every wish is fulfilled. After long centuries of such life, however, you grow a little bored. Mentioning it to your husband has terrible consequences.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The title is from the song that inspired me (Kingdom of Disturb by Nostalghia) and of course you don't have to know the song to read the fic but I strongly recommend it because it fits so well with the whole theme – In fever dreams he holds me // Fever dreams destroy me // Inside his kingdom of disturb // I am the queen of his design 😌 Basically, in this fic, you are kind of living like Celebrimbor and it gets dark as well – although not that dark lmao I imagine Sauron as Annatar here but you can imagine him as whatever to be honest and the Reader had to be an Elf so she could live for a very long time, but other than that she is not described in any way!

WARNINGS — mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), mentions of Reader wanting to have a child (spoiler alert: Sauron does not), toxic & abusive relationship with some physical violence (he pulls and drags her by her hair), manipulation, gaslighting, victim blaming

WORD COUNT — 3,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

KINGDOM OF DISTURB

When Sauron married you and made you his Queen, he took you to a huge and beautiful fortress in the Southlands. You had imagined being his spouse a little differently – more… actively. You had been imagining yourself healing Middle-earth alongside your husband but he kept you hidden inside your chambers instead.

He was assuring you the reason was your safety since his task was not yet done. And you believed him because you wanted to. Even the fact that the heavy doors of your chambers remained locked all the time was something done out of his love and his protectiveness. You understood. In fact, it felt good to be protected by him. To be taken care of. To be aware of the depths of his devotion to you.

And most of the days, you spent alone; awaiting his return from his journeys and battles. However, he made sure that you were never bored.

Your chambers were enormous and the most beautifully decorated in all sorts of silver, gold, gemstones and ornaments. Velvet, silk and cotton surrounded you and everything smelled of fresh flowers that were being changed everyday by your servants.

You had every book you wanted there and your ladies-in-waiting, as you liked to call them, were skilled in nearly every craft, so they could entertain you with their musical skills, new dresses made for you, drama plays performed for you to watch and clap your hands at… Anything you asked for was there – within the reach of your little finger.

And when you wanted to spend the time outside, perhaps you could not do that fully but you had a huge balcony all for you from where you could watch the vast and green land of the Southlands. The sunrays were keeping you warm and the blue skies were calming your senses as the sounds of birds, wind and playing children from afar were reaching your ears.

It was a paradise where you lived and you did not mind being trapped. Sauron was making sure of that. Your every whim was being fulfilled and whenever he was back to spend some time with you, he was the most skilled and attentive lover. After a few days or weeks spent in his embrace, you were too hazy to complain or to think of anything else except for the amount of your love towards him.

You were not sure for how many years you had been there – centuries, perhaps. Time was a blurry concept for you these days. And the most uncertain. However, throughout all those years, you had been very satisfied and content with your life as Sauron’s Queen. You had been waiting very patiently for him to finally heal Middle-earth and to prepare his realm for you to join his side fully.

Only recently, something had changed. And when Sauron had come back to you after being separated for a bit longer than usual, at first he hadn’t noticed any of that.

You had spent a whole night in each other’s embrace, your bodies tangled together as they reached a peak after peak between the gasps, moans, arched backs, curled toes and fingernails being dug into flesh. He was a Maia and he could go on for days without a break but you were not graced with such powers, therefore you required a rest. So, he granted it to you in the early morning as you both laid underneath the silky sheets.

After taking a short and regenerating nap, you yawned softly and giggled when Sauron’s hands caressed your sides. You looked deep into his eyes and placed a kiss upon his lips, caressing his cheeks. But when you opened your mouth to start the conversation you had been dying to have for a long while now, you were interrupted by one of his servants with a knock upon your doors.

“What is it?” Your husband asked, irritated, as he rolled his eyes at you playfully.

“My Lord Sauron, there is an important matter to discuss,” the raspy voice of his servant reached your ears.

You had never seen any of his servants but you could imagine they looked quite different from your gentle and beautiful ladies-in-waiting. You were not sure of their race since they had been the same since the beginning but you did not ask any questions about it since you were pleased with them either way.

“I shall return to you soon, my love,” Sauron kissed your forehead and left your bed.

He got dressed up quickly and turned around to smile at you adoringly before walking out of your chambers. A short while later, you could hear the doors being locked.

You stretched your sore limbs and stood up to dress up yourself, too. Sometimes, you liked to do it yourself instead of asking for your ladies-in-waiting. As much as you adored them, you had also quite grown used to solitude. And sometimes you preferred it this way.

After putting on a gown, you stood in front of the large mirror and caressed your curves underneath the fabric. You wondered how your body would look if it were changed by pregnancy. And when you turned to your side to put your hand on your abdomen, pretending to be carrying your husband’s child already, he walked inside this very moment, startling you.

You quickly moved your hand away but you were sure he had spotted what you were doing as he tilted his head and approached you slowly. Without a word, he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around you – the red colour of his robes looked so regal contrasting with the golden colour of yours.

“What are you doing, my love?” He whispered into your neck, placing a gentle kiss there and making you shiver.

You looked down at first and wanted to tell him that nothing, you were doing nothing. On the other hand, that was the conversation you had wanted to have with him for a long time now but each time you either were running out of courage or you were being interrupted.

So, you looked up to meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror and you took a deep breath in.

“What if we had a child together, my love?” You asked and watched how Sauron’s facial expression changed from playful to serious… Angry, even. His jaw clenched and his eyes – usually so kind and loving towards you – filled with rage that he was trying to keep at bay but you knew him too well not to notice. “What is it?” You turned around in his arms uncomfortably as you met his gaze in reality now and not only in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you not happy with me?” Sauron asked with all seriousness and concern.

“I am very happy, my love. That is why I want to–” you started, a little surprised by his tone.

“Why do you want to ruin what we share then?” He interrupted you, harshly and it made you shut your mouth immediately.

“I had no idea that you perceived the possibility of fatherhood this way,” you finally said in a weak whisper.

“There is no such possibility,” your husband took a step back as if he was disgusted with you at that moment and it hurt you deeply.

“Physically, it is. There have been cases of Maia and Elves having offspring together. Rare, but still…” You swallowed thickly as Sauron’s eyes filled with even more anger and the corners of his lips twitched.

“You… You have been researching that?” He asked with contempt.

“My love, I do not want to push you into anything or force anything upon you!” You quickly reached out to grab his wrists to calm him down. He allowed you to touch him but he did not touch you back in any way and his eyes did not turn softer at all. “If a child – an heir – is not what you wish, let it be then. I only want to know the reason why not,” you explained, looking for compassion. “If it is jealousy… For I am aware of the amount of your devotion towards me… Well, I can assure you that my love can be shared and perhaps I would love you even more if–”

“I am not jealous,” Sauron snorted at that and you closed your mouth, blinking your fresh tears away. “Do you have any idea how powerful I am?”

“Of course, my love,” you nodded, surprised at the question.

“And do you think I wish to share this power? This greatness?” He freed his wrists from your grasp and walked away to pace around with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Do you not wish to share it with me one day? Once Middle-earth is healed?” You asked, confused.

“It is different. Our child could be even more powerful than I am. I do not wish for heirs,” he explained, nervously, “for they could be a threat.”

“A threat?” You asked, taken aback by his words. “Your own children? A threat for you?”

“You are not happy… You are not happy here,” he kept repeating as if he was angry and worried at the same time, ignoring your questions and walking in circles like some sort of a maniac.

“My love…” You tried to catch his attention again, staring at him with your eyebrows furrowed. You had never seen him so upset and you felt guilty for causing this. He had enough worries outside this fortress and when he was with you, you wanted him to feel calm and relaxed.

“You are not happy… You are not…” He was no longer paying attention to his surroundings, spiralling down as if his world had just crumbled down.

“My love…?” You tried once again.

“Not happy, not happy, not happy, not–”

“Sauron!” You addressed him and this time your voice grew harsher out of impatience. He froze and turned around to face you, with his hands still clasped behind his back. He was visibly taken aback by the tone of your voice but you were frustrated now by the way he behaved.

And, perhaps, he should have finally heard some truths.

“I am not unhappy, my love,” your voice grew softer but it was still quite distant. “The life I have here is the most luxurious and I am being spoiled by you every day, even when you are away. I am the most grateful,” you assured him and he sighed with relief. “However,” you added and he furrowed his brows again, “I grow tired of being locked away. I wish to walk outside, I wish to meet more people than my ladies-in-waiting. I know you are not yet done healing Middle-earth but I know you do have whole realms under your rule already. Are your subjects not curious about their Queen? I would love to go outside and meet them. Even though I have here everything I could ask for, I still grow bored sometimes as I seek for some purpose or adventure. Perhaps a child is something I started to crave because of boredom,” you finished and took a deep breath in, feeling the burden you had been carrying for so long within your soul being released.

Sauron’s face was unreadable at that moment but he remained still like a statue as he kept staring at you coldly, without even blinking. You swallowed thickly and after a moment, you simply had to look down, too intimidated by his stare.

“You are… bored?” He laughed contemptuously, breaking the silence. “I have to spend long weeks away from you to heal this realm and prepare it for you, so you can rule it alongside me when everything is all ready for you and handed out to you on a silver plate – like everything else – and you complain about… boredom? I fight battles and risk my life, while remembering to spoil you every day no matter what, only for you to show such brattiness?” His voice was filled with so much disappointment that you wished to die at this very moment.

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps you were being ungrateful.

“F-forgive me,” you whimpered, still not brave enough to look up.

“Oh, it is too late, my love,” he emphasised the last two words with anger as he approached you and grabbed you by the roots of your hair, making you yelp. He had never done anything of this sort to you before and you had never expected him to. He had to be even more angered than he showed. “Do you wish to know the truth?” He whispered into your ear venomously. “You have no idea how much power and focus I have to sacrifice for you to live a life so beautiful and yet you dare to complain?” He asked and you could not understand the meaning of his words. You only kept sobbing and not even because of the physical pain he was causing you at the moment but mostly because of the way he was behaving towards you. “True, your naiveness and foolishness makes it a little easier. You do not notice my little slip-ups and oversights… But still… I’d be much more powerful if I did not have to sacrifice so much of my abilities on creating this illusion for you,” he drawled out.

“What illusion?” You asked through the tears and Sauron looked deep into your eyes, pulling your hair even harder as you whimpered. He kept staring at your face with anger and contempt, visibly overthinking something.

“Let me show you the truth, my little brat,” he smirked and the corners of his eyes twitched nervously. In that moment, you suddenly realised that the light coming through the curtains from the outside was gone.

The chambers still looked the same – full of luxurious goods and items – but they were all so… dark. And somehow dusty as if there was ash covering some of the furniture. You squinted your eyes at that, not fully understanding the meaning of any of it.

“Here,” Sauron dragged you by your hair towards the balcony doors. And when he opened them and forced you to look ahead, you gasped in terror.

The Southlands were no more. The green land full of the bird songs, blue skies and the children’s laughter was nothing but a dark land of gloom and ashes with the huge volcano breathing out smoke in the distance. The skies were orange from the clouds and fire and there were ashes dancing in the air. It was hell and you realised that this was the reality – not the beautiful and gentle things you had been seeing for the past centuries whenever you had walked out to breathe in fresh air and feel the sunshine on your skin.

“You are not healing Middle-earth,” you whispered, nearly inaudibly, feeling defeated. “You are annihilating it.”

Sauron let go of your hair finally and pushed you away while doing so.

“I am healing it. Middle-earth is too spoiled and rotten for the process to go smooth and easy. I must purge it and rebuild it and then, only then, we shall rule it together,” his voice went softer again but it was still filled with a scary hint of darkness.

When you looked up at him, he was smiling at you lovingly again as if he hadn’t just caused you any pain. And you realised that from now on, you would always hear that scary hint of darkness in his voice no matter what. Because it had most likely always been there.

You remained speechless, staring at him with your wet eyes and silent tears streaming down your cheeks. He reached his fingers out to wipe them out of your face.

“Now you see it… I was trying to protect you from the whole process… From the truth of it… For I knew you would not understand my vision. And you shall stay here until my task is complete, my Queen,” he assured you sweetly.

“I do not want to…” You confessed.

For the first time in your life, you truly did not. Even though it was impossible to stop loving someone in a brief moment – no matter how much pain they had caused you and how evil they had turned out to be. You had been loving him for too many centuries to stop now. But it did not change the fact you simply did not want to be by his side anymore.

You expected Sauron to get angry again but he did not. He cupped both of your cheeks now and leaned in as he kept staring at you with a mix of affection and pity. He knew very well that what you wanted mattered no more.

“But you must, my love, for I shall never let you go,” he whispered, pecking your lips delicately and tasting your salty tears. “However, now that you know the truth, I do not see the point of my further illusions. Your curiosity and brattiness have robbed you of this privilege,” he pointed out and caressed your hair. “Come back inside, my darling,” he dropped his hands to your arms and led you back into your chambers.

He let go of you to close the balcony doors behind you two and you froze at the sight of a few shadow-like creatures floating above the dusty floor of your bedroom. Their shapes were humanoid enough to be unsettling but there was nothing pure about them and their eyes were red as they burned with fire.

“Wh-what are those?” You asked.

“Those are your ladies-in-waiting,” Sauron answered, trying to make his voice sound sweet although you were aware that calling them by the name you had given them was nothing but mockery.

“I do not think I want their service anymore,” you swallowed thickly. If his illusions were to be truly gone, you would rather live alone there instead of having such creatures following you around.

Even though they had already been doing that for centuries now…

Sauron chuckled to himself and nodded at the shadows. They disappeared immediately after and you sighed with relief.

“Do you still wish for a child, my love?” Sauron asked you and put his arm around you before leaning in to kiss your temple. “Because I think that, after all, I could give you one to make you less lonely,” he teased, cruelly.

“I would never curse my child to share their eternity with me in this prison,” you looked up as you answered, feeling the lump forming in the back of your throat.

“Whatever you wish, my Queen,” Sauron smirked and gently pressed your face to his chest as he caressed the back of your head. “I am sorry for causing you pain. I truly am,” his voice broke a little and you wanted to believe him because what else could you do?

Believing him would make this whole thing a little bit easier.

“I know,” you whispered, feeling utterly defeated.

“Do not anger me like this again,” he whispered and even though his voice was full of guilt, there was a threat in it, too. “I do not want to cause you pain. You mean the world to me,” he explained and you realised that perhaps he was believing his own self while saying these things, too.

After a while like this; being forced to hug him but with your eyes kept open, he took a step back from you and lifted your chin up gently.

“I must leave now again, forgive me. I have received worrying news this morning from my servant,” he explained. “I shall be back soon. Keep your bed ready for me, my Queen,” he teased playfully as he usually would but this time it did nothing to you except for making your stomach twist.

He leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead and turned around to leave. You watched him walk away and heard the lock turn. You were left alone in the darkness of this room, which was covered in the ashes getting inside through the windows. You were lonely and broken – with the sound of the volcano and burning fire accompanying you from afar.

You sat down on the floor and brought your knees all the way up to rest your chin upon them as you wrapped your arms around your legs. Curled up this way, you began rocking yourself slowly to calm down and to seek for comfort in your own embrace.

This was how your life would look like from now on. But it was better than living inside a lie.

Was it?

MASTERLIST

#sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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v1x-x1 · 1 month ago

Text

✧𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟕: 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐉𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮✧

✧|| 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✧ 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ||

✧|| 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ||

“P-please-”

“Beg more~” Jiaoqiu’s voice was as sweet as honey, and somehow the texture of his tone was the same as it too, oh but the intentions of his words definitely weren’t.

He was moving painfully slow into you. Yes, you felt good, but definitely not as good as you could feel; he was dragging on your anticipation and you didn’t know how much more of it you could take.

“I’m begging you.. please! I need.. n-need-”

He moved faster for a very few movements, you thought that you might actually be blessed by him. But once again he got the better of you.

You were so close when he just stopped, only a low chuckle escaping those gorgeous lips of his.

“Oh, dear, I guess we just have to beg more, don’t we?”

You could merely whine.

Not being able to handle it much longer, you started moving your own hips for even the slightest bit of friction, however, Jiaoqiu shut that down immediately by gripping onto your sides and keeping them pinned against the bed, getting rid of any chance that you may start moving again.

You immerse in the wave of annoyance that flows through you.

You felt your body start to tremble with how badly you needed release, how badly you needed friction, with how badly you needed him.

The pleas that left your mouth were so incoherent that you yourself weren’t sure of what you were saying anymore.

Seems like Jiaoqiu understood exactly what you wanted from him, however. Yet, this didn’t weaken the grip he had on you, no, but he did once more start thrusting into you faster.

The friction felt heavenly - a treat that made you ascend above the clouds and experience an out of body sensation. But you were once again grounded soon enough when he stopped.

Again.

You let out a whine.

You needed to come so badly, you felt on the verge of death with every second that you weren’t in a state of ecstasy.

His movements into you were so dragged and painfully slow. You could feel him so distinctly yet not enough.

"Please- J-"

"Shhh.." His face leaned in closer to yours as he thrusted deeply into you.

But only once.

You craved more.

You didn't know how to survive without getting more.

The anticipation of maximum satisfaction was all that was playing on your mind and nothing else could push it away other than the thought of Jiaoqiu alone. Which really wasn't helping with the prior thought.

You felt your body attempting to create the much-needed friction. But, of course, your efforts were in vain due to the strong grip that he had on you.

You couldn't exactly look at him with how hazy and blurry your eyes were, but you knew that if you saw him, you would see that stupid smile of his that you hated because it made you feel so giddy, and so very desperate for him.

For those reasons you were actually glad that you couldn't see it.

More desperate whines left your throat. More pleas and definitely a lot of ragged begging.

And it was at the moment you expected the least when he started thrusting so deep into you at such a quick tempo that you finally reached your orgasm.

You felt your back arch up and your eyes roll back. The moan that you let out was raw, along with the short breaths you were panting to try and compose yourself - which did not work in the slightest.

You’ve never felt better than at this moment, you thought that you could see stars. All the built-up pleasure releasing all at once genuinely made you believe that you would never again experience such a feeling in your lifetime.

“Hm!” Jiaoqiu hummed, “I was worth the wait.”

Taglist: @lov3-ly @velvetyshu @coffeeisbehindyou @sanestventisimp @bokukenmakuroo @starspinners-hsr

lmk if you wanted to be added or removed!!

#kinktober 2024 #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #jiaoqiu #jiaoqiu x reader

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leonenjoyer69 · 16 days ago

Text

After sitting half finished for forever, I finally present Lanyon's Mindscape!

I spent quite a while coming up with everything and developing things in a way that connected very heavily to Lanyon's character (as well as Elias's) for my Lanyon Takes the Potion AU, so I'm very happy to finally share it! I mentioned it a while ago on the QnA with @arythusa , but here's the whole long summary!

I have a reason for each and every detail and choice, so if you have any questions, leave them in the reblogs or comments and I promise you I would LOVE to answer them :3 also, reblogs would be very appreciated, I put a lot of work into this <3

Now, let's begin!

The Mindscape

A twisting mansion of halls, doors, and spiraling staircases, Lanyon's mindscape is a vast, extravagant space.

Most of the mindscape has an inherent purple hue; grand chandeliers also bathe the upper, more "frequented" areas in a golden light. However, the deeper you travel, the more sparse these golden lights become.

Lanyon doesn't have the same odd "compartmentalization" abilities that Jekyll does, leaving his mindscape much messier and more confusing, with very little of it being any sort of "organized". Furthermore Lanyon hasn't ripped himself down to a shell of a person like Jekyll has; nor does he suffer from the same self hatred as Jekyll and Hyde, making his mindscape much more lively.

Residents of the mindscape include mind versions of: Jekyll, Everly, Lanyon Sr., Lanyon's mother (though she acts as more of a ghost,) the shadow people, and the Nightmares™.

THE ROOMS AND LAYOUT

THE HALLS

The halls are long and confusingly twisty, covered in unmarked doors, blurry portraits, and golden chandeliers, as well as other occasional decorations and clutter. There are very few doors that actually stand out enough to know they're special, like the ballroom, greenhouse, library, alchemy room, and Lanyon Sr's office. Most of the special rooms are near the surface, never moving, as their influence on Lanyon's character and memories are too strong to be moved from near the subconscious.

Memories, however, do tend to shuffle around a bit, even moving between floors depending on how much Elias or Lanyon is thinking of it. This shuffling has the ability to bring nightmares up from deeper levels to the more "safe" ones.

Many of the halls tend to lead in circles or straight into dead ends, and some doors simply lead to more hallways.

THE POCKET WATCH

To combat the twisting and turning, Elias eventually realizes that his "broken" pocket watch acts more like a compass, pointing him in the general direction of where he wishes to go. Mindkyll also has a pocket watch like this, being one of the more mobile mind people (despite his slight limp.)

The pocket watch has the normal larger clock face, as well as a smaller one for "seconds". The hands all spin aimlessly until a destination is thought of. The hour and minute hands work together for general direction like a compass, while the seconds tell the level, with straight up/forward being a higher level, down being a lower level, and horizontal being the current floor. Elias only figured this out with Mindkyll's help.

Elias, Lanyon, and Mindkyll all have an inherent attachment to their given watches, and when they're in other hands or removed from their persons, they feel more lost and confused, as if they have brain fog.

THE LIBRARY

Lanyon spends a decent bit of his free time reading and watching plays and productions, so it only makes sense for him to have a grand library filled with the fleeting memories of these pasttimes.

The bookshelves are oppressively tall, and despite the number of books and scripts, most of them aren't quite readable, since their words have been at least partially forgotten. However, there are a decent few books that are mostly filled out, namely favourite stories or plays he's ingested, old school books (thanks to Jekyll's influence,) and partially filled out journals or phrases that stuck with him, either from other people or things he's told himself.

Additionally, there is a reading nook with a fireplace in one of the corners, since reading is a comfort he hasn't abandoned.

THE MUSIC ROOM

The music room is a cozy space with a few chairs, a fire place, a grand piano, other various instruments, and sheet music strewn and hung about. There's also a couple of paintings, but they're covered mostly in music sheets. One of the other notable instruments is a violin, though it doesn't get used until Elias comes around.

This room is where Mind Everly spends most of her time, when not in the greenhouse, of course. Most of the music pieces are either nonsensical, or genuine ones that the real Everly has played for Robert.

This room becomes a sort of safe space for Elias after certain...events.

THE BALLROOM

The ballroom is a large, extravagant 2 story room. The floor/lower space has walls lined with windows, bringing a golden light to the whole room. However, nothing can be seen on the other side of the windows. Pillars sit between a few of them, holding up a large, wrap-around balcony-- I.e the second floor. The lower space also has a large circular design in the middle of the floor.

The second floor also has windows, as well as a few doors-- one of which leads into Lanyon Sr's office, since Lanyon viewed the tie between his fathers work and status so strongly, both becoming his whole life.

Because of how much of Lanyons life was built around balls and gatherings, the room is filled with shadowy upper class folk, all with somewhat blury features. They tend to act quite mindlessly, seemingly at least somewhat under Mindkyll's Beck and call, but they do dance together and murmur nonsensical, unsettling things to each other. They don't say anything that can be made out, but their growing judgement towards anything odd in the ballroom and overlapping voices can cause panic quite easily.

This room is frequented by both Mindkyll and Mind Lanyon Sr. Mindkyll tends to roam around, framing and dancing with the shadow people, while Mind Lanyon Sr stays on the balcony above, ever watching and judging what goes on below.

THE GREENHOUSE/GARDEN

An overgrown greenhouse filled with various vines, shrubs, and flowers (with occasional symbolism). there's an area for plants directly in the ground, as well as tables covered in pots, metal rafters with hanging pots, and a couple of trellises. The room is mostly all glass-- which still can't be seen through, but gives a warm, comforting glow to the room. There's also a glass table, which seats 2, and a little nook in one of the corners.

A lot of the flowers tend to change, as well as "randomly" bloom and wilt.

Elias likes to spend a lot of time just sitting in this room, occasionally with mind Everly. He also likes cutting back the overgrowth, but it always comes back. He eventually starts to keep track of how the flowers change as well.

THE ALCHEMY LAB

Based heavily around Jekyll's office and Alchemy-covered university desk, the lab is a dark, candle-lit room cluttered with alchemy equipment, books, and potions. There's an odd green fog in the air, making it one of the only rooms that isn't bathed in purple or gold.

This is the other room Mind Jekyll tends to frequent, usually experimenting or organizing his things. Lanyon and Elias both try to avoid this room, as the air feels uncomfortably heavy and tainted.

THE OFFICE

Lanyon's personal office, though it's quite lacking in furniture. The room mainly consists of a desk, chair, scattered books, and a lone, curtained window. The walls are covered in portraits (mainly of his father) and the desk is littered with bills and paperwork. The room seems almost abandoned, at least until Elias comes around to it.

THE UNIVERSITY DORM ROOM

A memory of his dorm room with Jekyll. The window seems to give a faint blue light, though the curtain usually covers it (symbolizing how he hid the relationship and his feelings.)

Jekyll's desk has a few alchemy things scattered on it, as well as text books. There are bunk beds, but the top looks unused.

There are various objects in the room that trigger a memory when they're interacted with, since many core memories were made in the room, buried or not.

LANYON SR'S OFFICE

A large, oppressive office, lit primarily by the two windows. The shelves and tables are covered with books and paperwork. Mirrors litter the walls (symbolizing Lanyon's similarities to his father), as well as portraits.

Mind Lanyon Sr obviously frequents this room, doing random work and reading. The room is also directly connected to the second floor of the ballroom, high above everyone else to show how Lanyon believed his father to put himself and his work above everyone else. Lanyon tends to avoid this room, and the second floor of the ballroom in general, as it makes him feel exposed. Elias also tends to avoid this room, as it makes him feel small.

THE CHARACTERS

ELIAS WRIGHT (LANYON'S HJ7 ALTER)

His outfit gives a more "working class" feel, inspired by his father's youth. They're also far more comfortable than Lanyon's usual clothes, so Elias doesn't mind them too much. The outfit somewhat symbolizes Elias's working spirit, as well as his yearning for his Father's approval via following in his footsteps (to a certain degree), acting as a sort of errand boy around the society/for Jekyll. They also make him look ungentlemanly, simple, and weak, making him stand out in the mindscape.

He has a "broken" pocket watch on him at all times, which he instinctively feels very protective over, as it's somewhat linked to his being.

Additionally, in memories he can "take the spot" of Lanyon, letting the memory compulse him on how to move. He likes doing this to feel like he's still Lanyon-- like he's whole again.

Feelings wise, Elias isn't too against the mindscape for a good while, mainly in the beginning. While it is confusing and lonely, leaving him quite on edge most of the time, he does at least find solace in mind Everly, Mind Jekyll, and some of the rooms. He does have a few run-ins with nightmares, though he always manages to flee or be saved somehow by mind Everly or Jekyll. He prefers to stay on the higher levels where it's brighter and safer, though occasionally he does go down to dig through memories, much to mindkyll's masked annoyance.

He initially sticks around Mindkyll quite a bit, dancing and hanging out in the ballroom or alchemy lab with him, even if he occasionally makes Elias kind of uncomfortable. Elias is quick to trust him and his charm, falling into him as a safety since Mindkyll is so kind towards him, and since he resembles Jekyll so much. Mindkyll is also quite touchy and praising with Elias, feeding Elias's yearning for romantic intimacy from Jekyll. Mindkyll usually knows just what cards to play to make Elias either fall for his charm or feel bad for him. They do pursue something of a "relationship", and despite the occasional discomfort Elias feels, he is quite reliant on Mindkyll for a while, using him as a stand-in since the real Jekyll seems so unattainable.

Also, Elias finds Mindkyll's "sparkle machine" ability quite funny, but of course falls for it. On a few occasions he's accidentally sparkled back, shocking Mindkyll and somewhat offending him.

Additionally, Elias hangs with mind Everly a decent bit too, finding her to be a more calming presence among the greenhouse and music room. She gives him advice and lets him talk, acting as a sort of mental therapist. She doesn't like mindkyll. She'll play music for Elias or sometimes just sit with him in the greenhouse.

Elias somewhat avoids mind Lanyon Sr, rarely trying to get to the ballroom's second floor, unless he feels he has to. He also partially tries to avoid his fathers gaze, though sometimes he can't help but look up at Lanyon Sr watching over the ballroom, yearning to make his father proud of him. Lanyon Sr's critical gaze tends to make him feel small, cringing under the judgement.

A mind version of his mother also haunts the mindscape, though she is scarcely seen. She does seem to like Elias far more than Lanyon though, sometimes even holding Elias and calling him her baby. She only really shows up in the greenhouse, from what Elias has seen.

MIND JEKYLL

A resident of Lanyon's mindscape, he's a sparkly amalgamation of Jekyll and Hyde. Wandering between the ballroom, halls, and his lab, he mainly dances, experiments, and charms. He has phantom pains all around his body, stemming from Lanyon's constant fear of Jekyll getting hurt (especially via potion mishaps), and has a limp in his left leg from recurring nightmares of Jekyll stepping in a bear trap on the faithful Bleeding Heart Night™.

Before Lanyon and Elias split, mind Jekyll looked far more like normal Jekyll and acted a bit more awkward. however, after learning of Jekylls duality, mindkyll became a bit more Hyde like, his sideburns growing out, his hair growing messier, and gaining a hole filled cape and green hat, as well as gradient eyes. He hates his new appearance a decent bit, blaming Elias for it.

He spends most of his time in the ballroom, since Lanyon taught him how to act "proper" and he seemingly surpassed Lanyon at that, causing him to become a sort of icon to Lanyon in that sense. In the ballroom he's quite the charmer, going between the shadow people and playing them as he wishes, which stems from Lanyon's jealousy of how Jekyll acted (and still acts) with women at parties while they were together.

Mindkyll tends to feel an inherent hatred for Elias when Elias is around him, as if Elias's presence by itself just causes stabs of anger and resentment in him, though usually he can force this feeling down in order to keep his charming facade up. However, on top of that resentment, when he feels like he has any sort of control over Elias, he gets a swell of pride and power in his chest. He tends to get more inwardly cocky, which mixes with the hatred and makes him increasingly cruel at times, though he does mask that with his charm and sparkles. He's also very much emotionally manipulative, pulling at Elias's weaknesses and the slight inherent attraction Elias has for him, since he looks like Jekyll and such. He doesn't really tend to outwardly show any of his hatred of course, since he wants to keep Elias's trust for the most part, but he does Harbor Lanyon's resentment and repression of all those "weak" emotions and such. Additionally, he holds a lot of Lanyon's "rebellious" stage, feeding off of the power he gets from having control.

He also lets off sparkles as a sort of defense mechanism for when he feels threatened or starts getting impatient/aggravated. They have a somewhat calming effect, most of the time at least, made to distract people from his real intentions and feelings. Occasionally, however, their impact/sway is dulled, like against Mind Everly. Eventually, Lanyon starts becoming more resistant to their sway, and after a certain future event, so does Elias.

MIND EVERLY

Mind Everly tends to avoid the ballroom, so she doesn't really interact with the shadow people unless she has to. She's also surprisingly adept at fighting off the nightmares. When Mind Mumyon randomly shows up in the garden, or on rare occasions the music room, she'll kinda just chat with her and keep her company until she wanders off/disappears again. With Mindkyll, Everly tends to be a bit "low patience" with him, not really playing into his charm and tending to ignore him.

Mind Everly knows she's just a part of Lanyon, being one of his main comforts and someone that he confides in, and she's quite alright with doing her thing and occasionally helping out Elias or Lanyon. She's just as sweet and trustworthy as the real Everly, acting somewhat as a therapist and general advice giver. She's also quite protective of Elias after certain events.

She frequents the Music room and the Garden, only occasionally going into the ballroom if she feels she has to. She completely avoids the alchemy lab, and only goes into Lanyon's office every once in a while to clean it up a bit.

MIND LANYON SR

Mind Lanyon Sr looks quite similar to the real one, just far more oppressive and judgemental, far more emotionally detached than the real one. He has a distressing aura to him, causing discomfort to the shadow people and monsters and annoyance to most of the other mind people that get close to him. Mindkyll seems to be the outlier to this, as he generally tolerates Mind Lanyon Sr's presence quite well, even occasionally seeking it out.

He usually hangs out on the second floor of the ballroom, staring down and judging the people below. He's this ever-watching presence, detached but still close enough to control things-- or at least seem like he could. Otherwise he frequents his office, doing work, reorganizing, or reading.

He'll occasionally hang out with Mindkyll, vaguely talking to him and slipping him praises. He sees him as more successful, fond of him in a "my son should be like you" way. Despite this, he still gets quite judgemental of Mindkyll when he looses his temper or shows his more "mad scientist" side.

His feelings towards Elias are a little mixed. For the most part, Mind Lanyon Sr is constantly judging Elias, disgusted by his emotional vulnerability and how he's everything the real Lanyon Sr tried to get rid of in his son. But, on the other hand, occasionally he can't help but be the *slightest* bit proud of the fact that Elias has at least SOME work ethic.

Were Elias to try and talk to mind Lanyon Sr, he would probably be met with Mind Lanyon Sr ignoring him, silently judging him, and/or verbally jabbing at him, pointing out his flaws. Elias is quite heartbroken at this, but for some reason he tries to get Mind Lanyon Sr's approval a handful of times before finally giving up, cringing under his stern, judging gaze.

Otherwise, he's aware of his state as a concept and is quite fine with it, intent on keeping Lanyon and Elias in line, in his own detatched way.

LANYON'S MOTHER (CELIA)

Cecilia Lanyon (Mumyon) somewhat haunts around the mindscape, quite scarcely seen. Because of her distance and detatchment towards her son, she rarely shows up, and when she does it's usually in the greenhouse, since she mainly "bonded" with Lanyon by having him help tend the garden occasionally. Since at home she was also commonly hysterical, Mind Celia is generally quite blank, but occasionally snaps a bit emotionally.

When Lanyon is around her, she tends to somewhat blankly stare at him, VERY occasionally actually talking or acting motherly towards him. Elias, however, tries to drag a bit more of that motherly persona out. He yearns for validation and affection from both of his parents, and the mindscape if the only place he'll ever possibly be able to get it. She occasionally seems to give him a little of the attention he wants, talking in very short sentences when they're together in the greenhouse, maybe pointing out flowers or their symbolism. Sometimes she does seem quite cynical, however, which tends to throw Elias off.

Her and Mind Lanyon Sr don't really ever interact, unless Mind Celia just happens to silently join him on the second floor of the ballroom for "show". She mostly ignores mindkyll, but has snapped at him at least once. Otherwise, she usually just tolerates him. She likes Mind Everly well enough, it's hard to dislike her, and she enjoys listening to Mind Everly's music.

Most of the time she's not the most aware of things, but she does have her more clear moments.

(Cecilia Eleanor Lanyon was made by my friend Luka ( @lukas-broken-bow ), while mind Celia was adapted by me bc her character EATS, THANK YOU FOR DEVELOPING HER LUKA, I LOVE HER)

THE NIGHTMARES

The nightmares take on a lot of forms, with one resembling Morcant being the most notable. Along with that, however, there's also many "mad scientists", physically ruined by their science, and various magical creatures and monsters, like vampires (there's one with a resemblance to Dracula), other werewolves, and reanimated things (ones that are especially gory, since Lanyon is disgusted by things like exposed innards,wounds, and rot.) There's also a nightmare "Hyde", who is somewhat formless and mainly causes general havoc and stalks around.

With the twisting of the mindscape and so many doors scattered about, the nightmares tend to stay in lower levels, trapped behind said doors or simply lost, especially if Lanyon keeps them off of his mind. However, when thought of or triggered via seeing or hearing something (or occasionally at random), doors will open or memory rooms will move, allowing nightmares to find themselves closer to the subconcious. They're also more active in higher layers in moments of higher stress, or heavy sleep deprivation, as those " doors" become harder to unconsciously keep closed.

Mindkyll is somewhat fearful of them, some more than others, but when they're closer to his ballroom or lab, he tends to be less scared. Or, when he needs to swoop in and "save" Elias from a couple of nightmares, he tends to forget some of his fear. Mind Everly is somewhat scared of them, but is more so annoyed by them. Mind Lanyon Sr. doesn't really have to deal with them, considering his spot on the balcony, and simply watches when they come about.

THE SHADOW PEOPLE

The shadow people are vague, blurry high society folk that remain in the ballroom. They're all dressed very well, their bodies partially see-through as if they're mere ghosts.

The shadow people don't really interact with anyone but each other and Mindkyll, since he somewhat has control over them. They dance amongst each other, muttering nonsensically until their "words" all blur together. They're not very aware of anything, all in all quite mindless, but when there's anything "wrong" or "ungentlemanly", that's when they act more. Their voices start to rise, despite still being mere whispers, growing more cacophonous and anxiety-inducing as they stare. Their judgement of anything odd is ceaseless, usually only calming at Mindkyll's demand or when the oddity leaves the ballroom.

Additionally, mindkyll can manipulate them to react in other basic ways, like acting charmed or shocked, and he usually does it for his own enjoyment. When a nightmare manages to get into the ballroom, the shadow people aren't targeted. Instead they grow more sinister looking, especially expression wise, and their mutterings take on a certain sharpness, their judgements growing harsher. Usually mindkyll needs to remove of the nightmare for them to act normally again.

_______

And that is the basics of the Mindscape! Once again, I'd absolutely LOVE any questions in reblogs, comments, or even my asks :3 thank you so much for reading all of this, I hope you enjoyed!!

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tired-biscuit · 11 months ago

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Fwb with yuuji who has always been your pretty sunshine kind gentle best friend. You expect the same care and silliness as he fucks you into the mattress and boy do you get it. But you also get incredibly skillful hands, lithe rough fingers curving perfectly inside you, unexpected bites in the curve of your shoulder, some mumbling about how pretty you look with his marks all over. You've never seen him like this, so beautiful and wet and flushed and high on you

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

divider credits: @/benkeibear

i think he goes out for a couple of drinks with some of his mates and then shows up at your doorstep, visibly tipsy and with that insufferably pretty smile on his face that immediately persuades you to invite him in.

despite being under the influence of alcohol, he’s still respectful. he places his sneakers next to your own as neatly as he’s able after he kicks them off in the hallway and watches you with blurry eyes as you step in front of him to unzip his winter jacket.

he snickers — boyishly so — when your hands touch his shoulders so that you can undress him, and doesn’t really provide a reason as to why he’s wound up at your place in the middle of the night. always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he just tells you that he’s missed his girl, that’s all.

his cheeks are flushed pink as he calls you his. if it’s from the booze or from the chill outside, you’re unsure. so when you reach out to touch his face, he perks up and leans into it instead; kind of like a little kitty cat would rub against the hand of its owner.

he kisses the inside of your palm. your wrist. he’s so touchy when he’s buzzed and your skin smells nice, he notes, kind of like you’ve just showered. is that the reason why your hair is damp and you’ve got nothing else on but one of his t-shirts that you stole from him years ago; back when things weren’t as complicated between you and you were just friends, minus the benefits? probably.

you lean into him when his cold lips touch your skin, on instinct or because your heart tells you to do so — maybe both. he’s cold because the winter outside is harsh at this time of year, and because he had to stand in line to get you the pastry you like from the 24/7 bakery across the street, but now he’s growing warm fast, all over actually.

oh shit, the pastry!

“i got you a lil’ something,” he mumbles, speech slurred and easy-going as he’s reaching for his jacket so that he can rummage for the paper bag he’s about 85% percent sure he’d stuffed in his pocket after leaving the bakery.

however before he can, you’re on him. you kiss him gently out of gratitude for coming over not just for sex and because of the plain affection you hold for him, but he doesn’t expect it, so his back ends up pressing against the door with a soft thud.

they’re slow, the kisses. every minute of it feels like a millennium and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your tongue glides across his front teeth in that laggard way that heats his blood to higher temperatures, urging him to open his mouth wider. so he does, letting you taste the liquor.

it’s bitter but also kind of sweet — he must have taken a bite out of that ‘little something’ that he’s bought for you, it seems. nevertheless, saliva gets exchanged, your hands start to roam over his chest. his heart beats so fast during the entirety of it that it makes him groan into your mouth in a way that tickles your lips with the vibration the sound provokes.

your breathing grows quicker, meanwhile he’s already panting. he’s clumsy, his back is slightly hunched as he reaches down to grab the hem of your shirt and tries to tug it up so that he can touch naked skin instead. the bulge in his pants has become so prominent by now — it keeps pressing against your thigh whenever he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer.

“sorry, you’re just so—” he trails off, biting back a rather pathetic whimper when your hand wraps around the ridge of his cock. it twitches instantly under your touch, though only he can tell because of the denim that’s in the way. “you make me feel so… hot.”

his forehead is covered with a thin film of sweat as he rests it against your own. poor guy, he gets worked up so fast.

it’s the reason why you can barely contain the smile that’s tugging the corners of your lips upwards as you murmur, “you make me feel really hot, too, yuuji.”

it’s the truth. you’re feeling the heat in your tummy, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy because of the warm wetness steadily gathering there. your pulse is pounding in your ears with thrill.

and how couldn’t it? you’re still fairly new to this entire friends with benefits thing; every time you get down to business, it’s like an entire new world has opened for the both of you. you’ve known him for years, sure, but when the clothes come off, you’ve still got so much to learn about each other.

and it shows. as you look up at him, you realise that there is an entirely new side of your best friend staring back at you through hooded eyes and too-big pupils.

yuuji is needy, open, vulnerable. horny enough to fuck you on the floor in the middle of your hallway if you as much as said the word, but so caring that he’ll wait until morning if you’d rather have him be sober for it.

though judging by the way how your fingers are unbuckling his belt now, he guesses it’ll be the former.

#yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuji x reader #yuji smut #jjk smut #biscuit drabbles

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creampuffqueen · 1 month ago

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Avatar Yangchen & The Elements

Alright, here we go. I’m writing the essay. Make sure to take notes; this will be on the exam.

Every Avatar has an element that they struggle with. An element that they struggle to master, an element that just isn’t as powerful compared to the others they use. Aang’s was earthbending. Roku’s was waterbending. Korra’s was airbending.

This is my case for Yangchen’s ‘struggle’ element being water.

(Note: This will contain major spoilers for both Yangchen novels. Her appearance in The Rift comic is also mentioned, but less spoiler-y)

For starters, I decided to compare how often Yangchen uses each of the four elements throughout the material we have of her. (Because I definitely don’t have anything better I could be doing with my free time lol).

This, obviously, being air, water, earth, and fire. I also decided to include a separate category specifically for healing. I know that healing is a sub-bending form of waterbending, but I felt the need to compare how often she uses water for healing versus other purposes.

[ain’t my table so nifty? i look like a real professional!]

Behold! The bending table!

You can pretty quickly notice a pattern. Air is obviously her preferred element, which tracks, as she’s an airbender. Her second most preferred element is earth. I actually think it’s a fun little opposite to Aang! Yangchen’s second-favorite element is earth, and she struggles the most with water, whereas Aang’s second-favorite element is water, and he struggles the most with earth.

Fire and water is where things get a bit blurry. She technically uses fire less than water, even less so considering the amount of waterbending healing she does. Also note how she uses waterbending healing just slightly less than waterbending for other reasons.

However, this has a pretty simple explanation that still fits with my point: Firebending is just… not convenient. Firebending certainly has many uses, but throughout the canon universe of ATLA, a vast majority of firebending is used for combat. Even in instances where the Fire Nation is not the enemy! Think about TLOK, think about all of the novels. How often is firebending used outside of combat?

Yangchen just doesn’t encounter many situations where fire is the best element to use. And yet, despite this, she still manages to use fire only a bit less than water. Whenever there is an opportunity for her to use fire, she takes it.

Another strike against fire as the contender for her weakest element: Yangchen is confident about her firebending skills. At one point in Dawn, she considers challenging a Fire National to an Agni Kai. And, quote, “She was pretty sure she’d win, too.”

Outside of some of her thoughts while in the Avatar State, this is the only instance of her having this level of confidence in her own bending abilities. I don’t think someone who’s weakest element was fire would be like ‘nah, i’d win’ while they thought about an Agni Kai.

Okay, okay, so she doesn’t use waterbending a ton. We get it. What’s the point?

The other point I wanted to talk about was specifically how Yangchen uses waterbending. When she’s not using water for healing, her other instances of using waterbending are… pretty simple moves, actually.

Some examples: Freezing small amounts of water. Forcing a jet of water straight up into the air. Adding a ‘sparkling twirl’ to a waterbending performance she attends. Melting a patch of snow in her path.

Compare that to some of her other bending moves: Creating literal air vacuums. Heating an entire room with firebending. Holding back a rockslide, by herself, with earthbending. (She also has some talent for sandbending, which, from the info we have in canon, seems somewhat difficult).

The most complicated thing that Yangchen does with water? Healing.

Now, she does have a couple impressive waterbending moves in the novels. She pushes aside an entire hillside of snow during Dawn, and bends a massive section of the ocean floor dry during Legacy.

The difference with these two instances versus her other waterbending? She has to power herself up with the Avatar State to achieve them. And for parting the sea during Legacy? She actually first powers herself up with the Avatar State, uses airbending to create a giant vacuum to initially part the ocean, and only starts using waterbending once the water has been parted. She doesn’t actually use waterbending to part the sea, just to hold it at bay.

Compare that to the rest of her bending. Yangchen is walking around doing some crazy feats with air and earth, no Avatar State needed. But when it comes to waterbending? She needs that boost to achieve something similar.

Furthermore, Yangchen just… doesn’t instinctively use water.

This can be seen a few times. I’ll bring up the comic The Rift first. Yeah, I know, we’re not huge fans of the comics, but they are canon material and therefore I can use them as a reference.

I skimmed the comic just to see what kind of bending she was using, and just like in the novels, it was largely air and earth. She actually only uses waterbending once in the comic: When she enters the Avatar State and does the iconic all-four-elements-bubble. She is literally fighting a spirit that came up from the ocean… with mostly earth and fire.

Also, at the end of Legacy, Yangchen takes Feishan out on a boat ride, to, you know, relax (or to make him piss his pants in fear). In the scene, she mentions not using waterbending to sail, instead sailing completely without bending. Then, when she calls on Yingsu to make some warning shots (2 of the 6 waterbending moments in the book are right here) she keeps the boat from capsizing, not with waterbending, but with… sailing skills. Quote: “A sailor’s instinct as opposed to a bender’s, but it did the job.”

Even in a place surrounded by water, Yangchen chooses a different route instead of waterbending. Not even intentionally! She just doesn’t have an instinct to use it.

Alright, so we’ve established that Yangchen doesn’t use waterbending all that often, and doesn’t seem to have much instinct to use it over other elements.

Why is this?

Now it’s time to take a dive into the philosophy of waterbending, and why the element of water specifically would be difficult for Yangchen to master.

Every element has a philosophy behind it, some kind of method of thinking that needs to be had in order to be successful at bending it. Air is the element of freedom, earth is the element of substance, fire is the element of strength. Water is the element of change.

More specifically, the philosophy of waterbending is the concept of “go with the flow”, the concept of push and pull, the concept of being adaptable.

These concepts all have something in common - a lack of control.

I’m going to pivot ever so slightly here to talk about Korra. Specifically, Korra’s struggles with airbending.

As mentioned before, air is the element of freedom, and is an element connected to a person’s spirituality. These are some of the reasons Korra struggled so badly with learning airbending: she wasn’t raised with any kind of freedom, she wasn’t given any reason to hone her spiritual side. Of course airbending was hard for her; the entire philosophy behind it was completely foreign to her because of her upbringing!

What does this have to do with Yangchen?

(note to self: write Yangchen & Korra parallels meta next. why is nobody talking about how similar they are…)

Just like how the idea of freedom was foreign to Korra, the idea of losing control goes against Yangchen’s entire personality.

Yangchen’s life is almost completely out of her own control at the best of times. The Platinum Affair was started when she was a child, too young to do anything to stop it. And yet, the event shifted the entire trajectory of her life, forcing her to work to repair the world from an international affair she had no control over. She blames her lack of control for her sister’s death. She doesn’t even have control over her own mind.

To put it into even more simple words: Yangchen is a control freak, and for understandable reasons.

So imagine getting your newest waterbending student: an eager young airbender who does everything in her power to hold onto the little control she has over her own life.

And then you tell her, “In order for you to bend this element, you have to just go with the flow.”

Of course she would struggle with it over the other elements she has to learn! Earth? That’s about being stubborn, determined. Yangchen has no problems with their of those. Fire? It’s about power, decisiveness. Not an issue for her either.

Water? Letting go of control? Accepting change? Now those concepts are going to take some effort to get the hang of.

This reasoning also connects pretty seamlessly as to why Yangchen is such a phenomenal healer, why she uses waterbending to heal almost the same amount of times she uses it for other purposes.

When she’s healing, she’s in control. When she’s healing, she’s making a notable change. When she’s healing, she’s actually making a difference to somebody’s life, something she struggles profoundly to achieve outside the hospital. Healing is a type of waterbending that Yangchen can truly control, so it’s no wonder that she’s drawn to it so strongly.

To round things out, this isn’t to say that Yangchen is a weak waterbender. At the end of the day, she is a waterbending master. She’s certainly a better waterbender than your average Joe Schmoe.

But when you compare water to her other elements, it’s clear to me that she isn’t called as strongly to it as, say, earth. It’s clear that water, and the philosophy behind its bending, would be something she would struggle with.

Water is Avatar Yangchen’s weakest element.

#woah i finally did it!!#atla #tlok #chronicles of the avatar #the dawn of yangchen #the legacy of yangchen #yangchen #avatar yangchen #atla meta #atla analysis

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itstimetojellyfish · 6 months ago

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Haven’t I given enough? ( Yes , now rest) ( Dan Heng x reader)

It sucks , how you always run around , and help people . And once you’ve done the work, they think that have the right to push you around to becoming their personal servant . An

That was only Belabog , the Lufou was worse .

Well, not for you . Dan Heng had it way worse than you . He was forced to get off the train to help his friends only to be attacked and unwillingly revealed his past .

Also the astral express plus the dozing general fought Phantilya ! That’s a very hard task to complete!

Mean while you just ran around helping people , enduring their insults , and getting tired , that was nothing compared to them !

Geez… how useless are you?…..

However , as time flies by , the memories you buried at the back of your head , came back . The memories of flesh and blood being torn from you just to save other people .

The memories of what used to be friends turned into betrayal . What used to be just a potion , was a curio that was destined to burn scars into your flesh . Now , you can’t view anything the same as before . Everything had a dark side and now you’re wary of everyone .

March coming into your room unannounced? Sword to her throat .

Caelus being loud? An outburst for him to be quiet .

Welt attempting to soothe your nerves? A suspicious move that may be trying to lead you to your death .

Himeko brewing coffee for you? A poison that’s trying to end your life .

Just how stupid are you? You try to calm your nerves, saying that their friends , but the mind can forget , the body and subconscious can’t however . Soon your in the archives sulking in a corner despising yourself for how utterly rude you’re being with Dan Heng warily looking at you from his spot .

(He’s the only one you haven’t lashed out on yet)

You don’t blame him for being suspicious of you . You refuse to show any skin , any past , or anything about you now . You snap at people and almost insult them .

( You wish you weren’t alive so you wouldn’t hurt people like this)

You pick at your fingers as you feel his stare boring into your soul and hear his thoughts about how disgusting you are. It’s honestly deserved .

Soon , you move to another corner where he can’t see you and start to cry silently. You hate yourself for being so rude .

( But haven’t you given enough?)

( You’ve went around helping people while they insult you . You blindly trusted your friends only for them to betray you and leave you as they escaped . You swallowed a so called medicine when in reality it was a curio that almost killed you and made you experience excruciating pain for months)

( So tell me , haven’t you given enough?)

You thought that was just a voice in your head but in reality, Dan Heng was right next to you crouching down and holding your head , gently wiping away your tears.

“ Wait what?…” You stare at him in shock as you try to come up with a reasonable response why he knows all of this .

He looks at you for a few seconds and then gathers you into his arms while revealing his true form to you . A cool , teal tail gently wrapped around your waist and rubbed against you .

“ I did some researching , there was a legend about a person , who faced great obstacles. Both mentally and physically. Friends betraying them , flesh being torn out of their own will to save others .

There’s a lot . There’s even one where a potion was supposed to help them but it was actually a curio . Basically they were used as a meat shield and testing subject “ He caresses your cheek .

“ If my theory is correct , based off the reactions you give and the reactions in the legend . Is it safe to assume you’re the person who is mentioned in the story?”

You freeze , then all the memories come rushing back , the faces that were so blurry became refined in detail .

But with memory of friends , comes the memory of pain.

You break down sobbing as you remember everything single thing that happened to you . You’d expect Dan Heng to stay still but he doesn’t .He coddles you and keeps you warm , gently draping a blanket over you .

“ So I was right….” He murmurs to himself .

You start to tire as your exhaustion hits you like a truck . Dan Heng notices this and just rocks you to sleep as you drift off .

You struggle to stay awake but he just continues to coddle you and just says . “ Rest, you’ve given enough “

Once the reassurance is given that he wouldn’t hold it against you for sleeping , you close your eyes and fall asleep .

Soon , neon blue eyes are glowing and a dark promise is given .

“ I won’t let you suffer again .”

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! Have great day!

#dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng hsr #dan heng imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae #dan heng il #Reader is self deprecating #Dan Heng is trying to figure them out #honkai star rail #Reader is a character in a legend #Reader has no memory of past until now #Mildly Yandere

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warehouse-in-la-cienaga · 6 months ago

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Fantasy high au where over the course of four years, The Bad Kids all end up with online followers for wildly different reasons, and it makes the rest of Solace realise that this disaster group of teenagers are responsible for their continued existence (many times over).

-As in canon, Fig has all her music accounts. However, they all link to her personal accounts (not including any from before freshman year). On her personals, there are plenty of clips of her and the rest of the BK, starting halfway through Freshman year. She has a Fantasy YouTube account where she shows concert clips and music demos, but also running complications of each bad kid being cool/stupid/insane. The highest viewed video is Riz and Adaine pulling Fig into a magic debate, with the quote ‘someone get Kristin, I think they might actually kill each other’.

-Kristin actually gets involved on social media at the end of Freshman year. She starts with taking about her deity ‘yes!’ but also includes stories about unlearning toxic religious teachings, and how to deal with changing/leaving a religion. She gets a lot of ex-religious followers, although few of them actually follow ‘yes!’ When she starts talking about Cassandra at the end of Junior year, a lot of her followers get behind it. Highest viewed video is introducing her Sibling Bucky, who talks about following an older sibling who’s been denounced and escaping a religion as a pattern in families.

-Riz starts his social medias during the summer of Freshman year, when he gets his license and starts getting clients. He has a separate, personal Fantasy YouTube account that’s a mix of reviewing mystery-genre media (books, films, ect), and advice for adventurers (think Polygon Unravelled meets Monster manual guides). Highest video is rating all the enemies the BK’s have fought in their time, with the quote ‘Porter was strong, but he also relied on angry teenagers to be subtle and organised, so that’s a flaw.’

-Adaine is next, takes an idea from Riz and talked about her favourite media, as well as advice to other Wizards. Guides on memorising spell chants. Organising material components. She has Jawbone on some videos to talk about how to deal with the mental effects of adventuring. Most of her videos are very calm and easy to listen to, with a few insane clips of the BK’s thrown in, usually when demonstrating a spell. Highest viewed video is a blurry clip of a car on fire. In the background, Fig is howling laughing. We hear Riz say ‘what have we learned.’ The camera flips, and Adaine’s blank face says ‘do not punch a car to see how far it’s thrown.’ End clip.

-Fabian is terminally offline, and only joins the others online at the end of Sophmore year. His videos are a mix of dancing and fighting techniques. He goes through steps easily, from beginner to expert. His fighting videos include the rest of the bad kids as opponents. He sometimes does talk over them to give advice, but there are also complete dances and fights set to music with no talking. Highest viewed video is his first dance with Mazey. It’s not a ‘couple dance’ it’s almost like breakdancing, but you can tell the two have high chemistry together.

-The group channel is started at the beginning of Junior year. It’s mostly clip compilations, to begin with, since everyone is incredibly stressed and busy, but as the year goes on there’s videos of the snowball fight at moonar yulenear, the frostyfair. Debates between Riz and Adaine, Godess talks with Fig and Kristin. At least half of their videos are the BK’s doing something insane and documenting results, ranging from ‘fantasy jackass’ to ‘fantasy myth busters’ depending on who’s involved. Highest viewed video is Fig surfing a lava river, following Fabian who is riding the Hangman through the same river like a jetski. Adaine is standing on the other bank, holding an ice bag.

-Gorgug is surprisingly last. The audience know about him, he’s appeared in Figs music, Fabian’s fighting, Riz talked about his gadgets and the group channel includes him as much as the rest of the BKs. He just doesn’t really think there’s anything for him to have his own channel for. Until there’s a group video where Fig needs a gadget, and the audience get to see Gorgug’s workshop, where he’s currently working on a robotic, fox-like creature that jumps up on Fig when she walks in. His channel is sort of a Michael Reeves type, where he does such impressive engineering for the most insane reasons. Highest viewed video is a workshop tour that includes three fires, at least one of which is Figs fault. The thumbnail is Gorgug watching the fire on his desk with a completely straight face.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #riz gukgak #kristin applebees #adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #fig faeth #figeroth faeth #fabian seacaster #long post

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bigboysfalldeep · 2 years ago

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desire - body swap

Ben loves wearing his biker gear every time he gets Riding his bike, getting groceries, or simply having a walk through the park Wearing that leather combo gives him a massive confidence boost, increasing his feeling of self-worth and, most importantly, tickling his inner kink. Hed always get hard as soon as another man looked at him, complimented him verbally, or just by the way theyd often reach down for their crotch. Ben would smirk playfully, knowing very well what an impact his extraordinary looks have on other people. Unknowingly, however, this would attract someone who is bound to change his life forever.

The sun is shining brightly when Ben returns home from a rather steamy bike session. He loves how the suit fits, especially after a sweaty, two-hour ride. The sound of his thighs rubbing against one another, the leather squeaking, and the whole suit clinging to his form make him smirk. Ben passes a few people walking towards his apartment, and they all look at him, adoring him. He puts his bag down, bends, and looks for his keys. After a few seconds of searching, he pulls it out with a long, deep sigh. "Back home," he mouths, opens the door, and steps inside. Before he can close it behind him, however, something—someone—approaches him from behind.

In the blink of an eye, he is simply overpowered and gets pressed against a wall. "What the fuck!" He exhales, trying to fight back, but then a pinching burn at his neck snaps him out of the fight. A burning sensation runs down his spine, and for a second, he feels at ease. His body goes numb, and his vision goes out.

When Ben opens his eyes again, he is confused and dizzy; his whole body aches for relief. He lifts his head slowly, his vision still blurry. Blinking slowly, he looks around. He is in his own bedroom; everything seems fine, but then he hears someone walking around him.

At this point, he remembers what just happened. Slowly regaining his composure, he tries to move, but his body is still weak. To his shock, he is handcuffed in front of his chest, and his ankles are taped together. "What is going on?" He growls, trying to move, but his feet won't steady him, and he sits back down at the edge of his bed.

"Are you awake already?" A voice rings through his mind, and he turns his head towards the noise. Sitting on a stool, there is a young guy, around his age, looking at him with a gigantic smirk on his lips. As odd as this may be, he's just wearing a pair of joggers and boots. His hair is nicely done, and his chest is slightly hairy.

"I wasn't sure I had the right dose." The man chuckles and runs a finger down his wrist, admiring his own skin. "Who. Who are you? What are you doing here?" Ben, steadily regaining control of himself again, demands answers. This guy just can't get into his home, knock him out, and sit there like this. He doesn't look too tough. Ben might stand a chance in a fair fight.

The man tilts his head teasingly and stares at Ben for a good minute. Before he can ask him again, however, the man exhales. "Straight to the point, huh?" The man strokes himself once, making Ben's eyes follow his hand across his bare chest.

"I had many names. I can't even remember this one's." He pats his chest, chuckling. "What does he mean?" Ben thinks and frowns. "He must be someone who's on a trip."

"Look, man. I don't know what kind of pill you took, but just untie me and we can talk it out." Ben reasons with him, and if amused by his request, the man chuckles again. "Untie you?" He gets up and smiles. With silent steps, he approaches Ben, who is startled by his actual physique. He didn't seem that imposing, but the closer that man gets, the more he regrets him speaking up.

With a single finger, that man lifts his chin and his gaze to meet his own. "Why would I do that?" The man licks his lips and lets go of Ben's chin, which is shaking slightly. Something about that man is definitely off. There is a certain chemical smell hovering all around him; his body is well-formed yet oddly cold, but his eyes are the worst. They are multicolored, unlike anything he has seen before. So beautiful, so alluring.

"Please just let me go. I won't tell anybody." Ben pleads with a shaking voice, but the man just grins. "Oh dear, you won't be going anywhere." The man squats down, so their faces are just inches apart from each other. "Your way too," he breathes, his eyes wandering down Ben's body, who's still wearing his tight leather suit. "Special." He breathes against Ben's body before placing a hand on his chest and lovingly stroking him through the fabric of his gear.

Ben shifts his body weight, trying to evade that man's gentle strokes, but he doesn't seem to care. Quite the opposite. His hands start to encompass all of Ben's body, his firm chest, his shoulders down his arms, and right to his huge thighs. Shivering, Ben looks away, not wanting to play any part in this crazy man's game.

Breathing deeply, he contemplates how to get away and how to overpower this stranger when a hand finds its way between his legs and right to his already bulging dick. A side effect of his own brain. Every time he wears that suit, his mind is taught to feel aroused, to get hard, and to fill that suit fully. Just like now. "Please, dont." He breathes again when a hand again grabs his chin, forcing him to face that man. "Look at me when I tease you, boy." He says it angrily, his beautiful eyes burning red, and his gentle strokes get firmer, making Ben moan under his breath.

Just like that, the man steps away, turning his back towards Ben, who is desperately trying not to freak out. He looks at him, touching himself, his chest, his abs, and down to his erect cock. "Will you.." He swallows hard. "Will you kill me now?" Ben's voice shakes, causing the man to turn back around, a curious expression on his face. "Kill you?" He tilts his head again. "No. There is no fun in that." The man approaches him again; this time, he stands there, towering over Ben.

"You see." Ben prepares himself for whatever that guy could say. What could be worse than getting murdered? "My people have been here long before your kind showed up. They invaded our spaces, ruined our homes, and... He says, his voice slightly lower than before, his eyes now staring into the distance, seemingly tapping into a memory, before his mind finds its way back to this. "I think it's only fair if I repay the favor." He shrugs.

Ben is confused now. What the fuck is he talking about? Maybe he is insane or on a really, really bad trip. "What the fuck are you on, ab..." The man leans in quickly, making Ben flinch. "Look." The man breathes. "I'm some sort of shapeshifter." He tilts his head teasingly, his eyes again wandering down to Ben's body. "And you're someone I can't let go." He places a hand at Ben's chest again, making his heart beat accelerate heavily.

"Shape...shifter? You're fucking crazy." Ben shouts, but the man doesn't even react. Challenged, the man gets up, raises his hand, and a thin, needle-like tendril grows out of his wrist. Shocked by this, Ben tries to move away, and with that, he falls down to the wooden floor. As he lets out a painful groan, the man just laughs. "Fuck. That was intense." He laughs, approaches him, and turns him on his back with his boot before pinning him down easily.

It feels like a boulder is trapping him; he's barely able to breathe, and with his arms and legs tied up, he can't do anything but watch that shapeshifter laugh at him. "You're even funnier than the last guy." He giggles, moving his boot slightly, like squashing a bug. "Pleaseee." Ben moans, and after a second or so, the guy releases him.

Catching his breath slowly, Ben can't fight back once the man lifts him up, placing him right at the edge of the bed again. "You should be proud. To be my new host." He smirks, stroking his own chest once more. "I like this one, but not yours." The man locks eyes with Ben again. "Is fantastic." Shaking his head, Ben refuses to accept this as reality. It must be some sort of prank or dream. "Just let me go, please." He begs, and the man pouts mockingly. "Let me go." He cries, mimicking Ben's despair. "Fuck off." The man shoves Ben just enough to make him lay on his back.

Effortlessly, the shifter climbs on top of him, exploring his whole body now with both of his hands. Even though it's a horrific situation, something about it begins to turn Ben on. It's a mixture of those gentle strokes, the man's scent, and his low voice penetrating his mind ever so slightly. "You're so huge." He says, as he grinds his hips against Bens, their faces now inches apart. In a desperate attempt, he tries to overpower him, but he's just too strong. "Getting feisty, eh?" He chuckles. "This should calm you down." Ben watches in terror as that thing grows out of his wrist again, and before he can protest, the man injects him.

This time it's different, however. Slowly, warmth spreads through his neck, his chest, and further into his whole body. "What is thaaaat?" Ben opens his mouth and moans loudly. "Something to calm you down." The man stares at him. "See, so easy." He pats Ben's chest firmly and gets off him. "It feels funny." Ben stumbles over his words as the warmth keeps spreading further and further, reaching his fingertips and toes now.

"We don't need that anymore." Smiling, the man removes the cuffs and uses a small knife to cut the tape between the legs. Ben's body enjoys the relief and spreads across the whole bed, with him groaning in comfort. "Thats right. Good boy." The man bends down, running a hand across Ben's heaving chest again. "This will be fun." He smiles and pats Ben's cheek lovingly.

As the man separates himself, Ben's head starts spinning, and he doesn't even notice the man slowly undressing beside the bed. In fact, he pulls his joggers down, exposing a massive, throbbing cock standing firmly. Easily, the man pulls Ben to the side of the bed, his neck now hovering in the air, his gaze on the man's pulsating cock. Blinking quickly, he instinctively opens his mouth as the man approaches him again.

With ease, he enters Ben's mouth, filling him and part of his throat fully, causing him to gag heavily. "Shhh. Shhh. Its okay." The man comforts him by running a hand across his firm chest again. The warmth is now taking over his mind, and as the man's balls and thighs block his vision, he closes his eyes. Rhythmically, he starts thrusting into Ben's mouth, who is gagging, licking, and sucking the lengths tightness lovingly. His mind is flooded with warmth as waves of pain and pleasure swing through his entire system. Ben sucked cock before, but nothing compares to this. The feeling of his throat getting penetrated, the taste of the cock, and how the man moves so easily make his whole body react at the same time.

While the man keeps thrusting, stroking his chest and neck, Ben's hands move to his own cock, vibrating intensely inside his tight leather pants. Still, he starts touching himself, feeling himself grow bigger and bigger. "Thats right. Thats the way." The man breathes deeply, his voice changing slightly and becoming deeper—nothing like any man had sounded before. Ben doesn't care, however. All he can think of is sucking that cock and pleasing that man, and as soon as the cock starts to leak pre-cum, all of this gets even worse. As the first drop enters Ben's mouth, waves of electricity spark inside his body, and they run along his spine, down to his hands, his legs, his feet, and right into his cock, making him bulge even harder.

Gagging heavily now, while his body gets even stiffer, Ben keeps on sucking, craving more of this man's cum. "Go for it." The man chuckles and hits Ben's chest with the palm of his hand again and again before letting out a low, guttural grunt. "Fuck."

Just then, he stops for a moment, and his cock erupts into Ben's throat, causing him to nearly vomit, but the man tries to comfort him by stroking his chest and neck tenderly. "Don't resist now." He exhales as more and more cum leaves his cock, sliding down Ben's throat. That feeling is unbelievable. It feels like steaming water, yet it is so soft, not hurting him at all. He makes sure to swallow it all before he feels the cock leave his mouth. Closing his mouth slowly, his whole body gets stiff and rigid, and it feels like he's retreating deep inside his mind. It feels easy to let go of all that pain and all that pleasure.

Ben falls back—no gravity, just him floating about. Everything goes dark, fades away slowly, and thats okay with him.

He doesn't know how long he was out of the picture, but he doesn't feel any pain once he wakes up. Ben opens his eyes, and he's lying in his bed. At first, he is relieved, but just a mere second later, he realizes something is wrong.

His body moves, gets up from the bed, and walks towards a mirror.

"Even better than expected." A voice says, using his voice, but he isn't the one using it anymore. "What happened?" He thinks to himself, and immediately his consciousness is simply overwhelmed.

"You're awake." The voice says this as he starts to touch himself, stroking his chest through his leather jacket. "What? I can't move!" Ben protests, but his reflection just smirks at him.

"Its because Im here now." He says this, running a gloved hand through his hair and down to his beard. "It can't be!" Shocked, Ben tries to regain control somehow, but it's futile.

"But it is, see?" Ben's body turns around, pointing at the lifeless body of a man lying on the floor with his pants down at his ankles. "No. NO. GIVE ME MY BODY BACK."

The man walks over to the body and moves it with his biker boots. "It was a beautiful body, I have to admit." Ben can't help but stare at the body and the shell—a simple husk. It is the same man who overpowered him, fucked him, and now is lying on the floor next to his bed.

"What have you done?" Ben says it angrily, still protesting. "I told you." The man chuckles mockingly and walks back towards the mirror. "Oh fuck. Your musk is even better now." He sniffs at his armpits and moans again and again, much to Ben's dislike. "STOP THAT." He shouts, but his body just laughs. "I know you like that."

The man looks right into his own, now multicolored eyes, right at Ben, who's shivering again. "I have access to your thoughts, Ben." He says. "I know you're kind of a slut. So kinky, so...fuuuck." He starts to firmly stroke his neck, chest, arms, and thighs. All of his muscles instantly react by getting hard and bulging against the tight leather suit, filling it fully.

"Fuuuck." They both moan in unison.

"Just....give it back." Ben says softly, unable to move an inch of his body. "I wont." The man says it seriously. "But I will do something for you." He smiles again. It doesn't matter what he offered; all Ben wants is his beautiful body back. "Fuck you. Its mine. MY BODY." He demands, but his reflection just rolls his eyes. "It was your body, yes. But you will have a new form soon." The man smiles and walks back to the bed, lying down on his back.

"What are you doing?" Ben says anxiously, not sure what to make of this. But the man doesn't reply; instead, he gets really quiet and focused. "Hello?" I am talking to you." Panicking, Ben doesn't even notice his body chanting something under his breath until it's too late. He feels the body tensing again, harder than ever before. All of the muscles are bulging, testing the limits of the fabric. Just then, his essence gets pulled out of his mind, and everything goes dark. He tries to fight back, but he can't even see anything.

The warmth spreads once more, engulfing him in a flaming ball of pain and pleasure. He can't think or speak. His surroundings move, vibrate, and pulsate heavily as he gets pushed down a hallway. Ben gets sticky, wet, and warm. Unable to process anything, he gives into that sensational feeling of pure pleasure.

Just then, he leaves his old body, embracing the touch of something new. He spreads across the landscape, exploring every inch of this world. It feels good, and he moves in a lovely dance, swirling around. But this form isn't free, as Ben feels pulled and pushed. His arms, legs, and chest grow into place, hugging something in a tight embrace. He feels a familiar thing—the feeling of skin, small hair tickling him, and the smell—a wondeful scent, so familiar yet stronger than ever before.

Ben can't see, just feel and taste, and in a horrifying realization, he remembers that smell—his sweaty, musky smell—after riding his bike for hours in the steaming sun. "It can't be." He thinks, as his being starts to bend, to move, so tight, so strong. "How do you like it, Ben?" A voice echoes through him—a very familiar voice. "You're now what you love so much." The man says, and slowly, Ben is able to open his mind for this experience. In fact, he is now inhabiting his leather gear.

He feels his skin move, his muscles bulge, and his wet, throbbing cock imprints through him. Unable to form a coherent thought, his mind gets overwhelmed by all of this. The smell, the feeling of skin—when something starts touching him like no one has ever done before. The man touches his core with every soft stroke, with every move of his body, with his twitching cock. Just sensational. "Fuuck." Ben moans loudly, making him vibrate.

"Thats right." His old body purrs. "How about we go for a ride?" The man strokes himself and smiles at the mirror.

"Edit; longest story yet, hope you enjoy."

#male on male #tf story #male domination #male transformation #male meat suit #male body switch #male body swap #male body suit #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #leather man

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