#they are in physical combat the most she can do is distract him while he breaks a few bones

[worstloki]

The comedy of brodinsons dragging random cultural biases with them from Asgard is so fun. They should be sexist to people's faces and roll their eyes when anyone says anything about it

[tinytennisskirt]

Tease

summary: a poorly written horny montage of Patrick’s crush on you and how he uses sexual urges to mask the fact he’s completely head over heels for you

warnings: teasing, unprotected sex, mention of oral f!receiving, kissing, kissing Art onceee one timeee, a slight moment of misreading but it’s not actually misreadingggg

Oh Patrick is insane when he has a crush on you. Absolutely insane, he turns himself into this stupid fucking dick of a jock when you’re around during practice, playing to impress you as if his tennis swing will make you fall into his lap, his bed…

He balances the innocence of his crush on you with the idea of you on your knees and he can’t help but wonder what you feel like. And it’s only to combat the feeling that he wants to take you out on a real date, do stupid shit with you like take walks and watch rom-coms and kiss the tears off your face when you’re crying over some animal video you saw online. His method is effective but nothing ever beats the idea of you being his best friend and girlfriend all in one. Nothing beats the idea of coming home to you at the end of a day. He’s turning into some wholesome freak and it’s scaring him.

When you’re talking he hears every word you say but with a slight echo because he’s busy wondering when it’s appropriate to kiss you between sentences. You’re his friend, you’ll meet him after class but in his head it’s terrifying and completely thrilling that you want to spend time with him. Usually he’d be cocky about it but with you he feels like he’s 13 with a schoolboy crush the way you reduce his stomach to butterflies. A schoolgirl crush maybe.

And when you’re with him on the bleachers and your hand rests on his knee he wonders about how your hand would feel wrapped around him and he can’t help it, it’s the only thing he can do to keep from telling you that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and to combat the idea that he wants to wake up next to you for the rest of his life because he’s just that sure that you’re it. It’s going to be you.

Art knows Patrick has a problem. At the mention of your name his neck snaps to pay attention, even after his own name was called about ten times. Art just chuckles. “You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. Pretty sure she’s got you figured out, bud.”

And yes, you have an inkling that he likes you but the extent of which you have no idea. He has no idea that when his hands slip down his boxers at night while he reminds himself of how perfect you are, your hand makes it’s own way down your stomach and breaks your waistband, thinking about him too.

You’d never say it. The crush he has is something you like to play around with. It’s fun to make a twenty-year-old man blush.

Art and Patrick invite you to pregame a party and you show up with a case of twisted tea and a miniskirt with (thank god) shorts built in but the presence of your perfect thighs in his line of sight, of course you notice how he zones out on your body. Of course his eyes linger on your hips, your thighs, your chest, it’s what keeps him from thinking about how gorgeous your smile is and how much he wants to see it between kisses, in between breaths.

Then there’s the day you show up to tennis in a halter top and even Art is a little distracted by the low cut. The other girls practicing on the court all want to know where you got it because it held the girls sooo well during practice. Patrick missed almost every ball you hit at him. He tried. You smirked and you were so so pretty as you cheered at all the extra points that came from distracting him.

The flirting was occasionally physical. Patrick sometimes allowed himself the grace of a hand on your back when you were next to him and you didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t exactly flirting but it sure felt like it.

Patrick is a pretty physical guy altogether, his spatial awareness not great but also partially something unintentional. So when his face gets close to yours in conversation, you never bat an eye. But you do bat your eyelashes and listen to him forget what he was going to say or begin to stumble over his words. It always feels a little emasculating, but Patrick loves it, surprisingly. You turn him into something weak. Nobody has ever done that to him before.

You in your short skirts and low cut shirts and you with your perfect body making it absolutely impossible to avoid looking at you, but helping so much to distract from the fact you’re kind and sweet and completely perfect. The need to run his hands over your waist, hips, and ass is the perfect distraction from the want to kiss your cheek, nose, and forehead. Fuck!

It’s so fun to drink with him and call him pretty with his face so close to yours you can smell the fizz of the orange soda he mixed with his vodka. Fun to smirk and rest your finger under his chin and talk to him with your noses practically touching. Fun to sit on his lap just because it’s ‘comfortable’ and feel him struggle to hide the fact he’s hard. He’s looking at Art for help but Art knows it’s not true misery- he’s doing Patrick a favour.

Having Patrick in your dorm room late at night and you’re in these short, loose pajama shorts that show off your ass and bending to pick up your laundry off the floor. Watching his jaw slack just a little and seeing him scramble to pretend he was looking elsewhere. He’s a mess over you, going home and jerking himself off to all the dirty imagery you’ve given him just by being around him. He’s breathing hard by the end of it and he’s completely spent and he’s been home ten minutes having come three fucking times.

Going to a diner with Patrick and Art and both boys are all-too focused on the way you eat the strawberry from the side of your milkshake. You blink, looking at them both as they act as if they were staring at the menu.

The second the boys are alone back at Art’s dorm Patrick is gushing. “You see what she does? It’s like it’s on purpose.”

“No, I- I definitely see that,” Art says. “She’s always like that? Even when it’s just you two?”

“Always. She wears the least amount of clothes possible, she’s touching… me, she’s got this smirk, this sly one- I think she’s trying to kill me.”

Art agrees and admits that he can see what Patrick sees in you aside from the fact you act a bit like a slut when he’s around. But Art has observed you in other settings and you’re no slut in general. The second Patrick is home his hand is down his boxers thinking about how it’s all for him, seeing the intention through your actions.

And the next time you’re with him you’re in another short skirt and crop top as well as one of Patrick’s big zip up hoodies on and he’s trying to look past how it feels to see you sit so pretty in his clothes. His crush is absolutely massive and unfortunately so is his dick, so hard that it hurts, as he imagines fucking you right there right then. That short skirt bunching around your waist as you bounce on his cock… the idea of it is all too much.

You move closer to him and you ask him a question but he’s not hearing it. He’s too focused on the fact you’re not wearing a bra under your tank top. Your pointer finger taps under his chin and his face is so close to yours. He answers your question, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips and that beautiful smirk spreads up your face again. He looks half drunk on you, his eyes so half-lidded. He’s imagining his fingers in your mouth instead of thinking about what it would be like to kiss you.

His crush is driving him insane and he would have kissed you if he didn’t have to go meet Art in ten minutes. He knows you know he likes you. You know he knows you like him and the second he’s gone you’re on your bed with your hand down your underwear because there’s nothing more fun than the game you’re playing with him but the game doesn’t get you what you need. Not yet.

“I want to fuck her so bad,” Patrick confesses to Art over his beer. “It’s not even funny anymore.”

“I’m with you,” Art says after hearing the whole story. “I mean I would… I would be the same way.”

“You think she wants me too?” He asked. He hated sounding like he had a nerdy crush on some popular girl. “I mean- fuck, honestly. I’m going to lose my mind over her.”

Art just nods in agreement.

Getting high with Art and Patrick near midnight and you’re outside on the grass on a blanket of yours and you’re in one of Patrick’s t-shirts because you don’t want yours to smell like marijuana. The shirt is a saving grace when you stand but when you sit and your thighs are on display the way they are, both boys are finding themselves a bit stuck on where else to look. Patrick having an especially hard time as you’ve draped your legs across his, the back of your upper thigh the part resting against his dick. He’s too aware of it as you shift just slightly, pressing more against him and he has to not make any noise.

You look at Patrick and ask him gently what’s wrong? He’s all flushed. You ask if it’s from the weed and if he needs water or a snack or something but he could truly not be high enough. He’s staring at your lips, how full they are, how sweet they’d be to kiss and how fulfilling it would be to kiss down your chest, your stomach, between your legs. Art can sense the tension from across the blanket so he suggests something stupid, a plan to fix things up a bit. He proposes truth or dare.

You laugh because you haven’t played it in years but you agree and so does Patrick and Art opens it up with Patrick. Patrick goes for truth and Art asks him something simple. “How many times do you jerk off in a day?”

You giggled and Patrick groaned just a little. His answer was three. Usually. You weren’t surprised and you nudged him just a little bit, teasing him for his answer. Patrick then asks you and you say dare. He then dares you to finish the rest of the bowl Art had packed. You do so.

It goes around again twice until it’s Art asking you. Truth or dare?

You pick dare and this time Art plays true wingman. Or tries to. He’s so sure of himself. “I dare you… to kiss one of us.” He says. He’s SO sure you’ll take this chance to kiss Patrick, who you’re draped across and leaning against. But you don’t, you move over him and crawl to where Art is, kissing him gently. Art is more than surprised but Patrick is just staring at you, going over that decision of yours. You chose to kiss Art instead of him… it should have hurt. But it didn’t. Instead it just existed alongside every other fantasy he’d had of you. And you ask Patrick now, pulling away from Art who is wide-eyed and frankly impressed by how well you kiss, truth or dare?

Patrick says dare and he is met with, “I dare you…To kiss me.” It’s an order and it’s a dare and you’re giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world but it’s all he’s been able to think about since he met you and you were asking…

Art is grinning. It’s the outcome he’s been waiting for. And you’re waiting. “No.” He says. “Sorry, I’m not- I won’t-“ he says. Or he tries to say he can’t kiss you here, not JUST because of a dare. He wants to kiss you when HE wants to. Your eyes are wide and you sit cross legged, looking a bit paler than you should.

“I’m sorry,” you say, immediately straightening out. Your hand goes up to cover your mouth but it doesn’t get all the way up. All of your teasing, all of the fun you’d been having with him, and you finally tried to close a gap to be met with refusal. “I’m sorry, Partrick. That was too much.”

Patrick looks at you and your big genuine eyes and he wishes he didn’t stop himself but some stupid part of him, although he wanted you on top of him nearly every night, although the image of you in your pajama shorts were burned into your mind as a permanent form of motivation for masturbation, even though he thought day in and day out about pleasing you, he wouldn’t kiss you. Not for fun. Not without intention. Because at the base of all of this he did like you. A lot. He couldn’t find the words…

His lack of response is what provokes your further mortification. And suddenly you’re doubting everything you knew. Did he like you? Why wouldn’t he? You thought for sure he would. “I’m so sorry, I’m going to go,” you say.

Art shakes his head, “It’s fine, you can stay.” He says in Patrick’s silence. But you’d kissed Art now and not Patrick and one would have been meaningless and the other meaningful but it was all a stupid game anyway and you had just made a major mistake. An even bigger mistake than you knew it was.

“I have class tomorrow anyway,” you say kindly, pulling your shorts down just a bit further for more coverage. “I’m really sorry. Both of you. I’ll talk to you guys soon.” The embarrassment is crushing and Patrick isn’t saying anything and now you’re stuck with some stupid consequences on your back. This was what you got for being a supposed tease, you thought as you grabbed your things. You should have been more clear on how Patrick felt before you asked him to do something like that. He didn’t want to kiss you. You misread him?

“No, really, don’t go,” Art says. “Please.” And he makes eye contact with you in a way that sends a message, which gestures you to Patrick.

Patrick looks at you. “Come here.”

You move back toward him. The game is over. This is him, this is not his dare. And he kisses you before you can wonder what it is he wants. It’s a good kiss. It’s long and it’s more tender than you’d have imagined from him. And when it ends and you both pull away, Art is nowhere to be found.

Your eyes meet his, his eyes meet yours and it’s only a matter of minutes before you’re pressed against the door of your dorm room trying to unlock it while Patrick’s mouth trails over your jaw and neck with so much haste you’d think he was on a timer. You manage to open the door and you’re stumbling in loudly, kissing and slamming the door behind you. Nothing mattered aside from him in this moment as your shorts made their way off of your body. Patrick didn’t even try to remove your shirt as he took off his own clothes. You could feel him hard against you as he pressed your body to his.

You’re giggling between kisses, slightly high, like something is funny. His hands on your jaw as you walk backward toward your own bed. You wanted to tease him for months on end, you wanted to give him something to want so he was going to show you just how fucking badly he wanted it. In seconds your hand finds purpose as it slips down his shorts and finds his dick. It’s all he’s wanted (aside from taking you out to a really nice meal) and he groans loudly as your hand grips him. “Fuck, I want you so badly,” he says against your lips and you just grin, stroking him up and down and in two seconds his shorts and boxers are down and you’re on your knees next to your bed and as your hands work his shaft, your lips gently kiss his tip and he wants so much to push your head down but he swears he isn’t that kind of guy.

You’re so gorgeous, your lips wrapped around his dick but he can’t sit and watch it happen, he needs you now and you know it as he taps under your chin and you eagerly stand to kiss him again, his leaking cock pressed against the space between the end of your third and your bare thigh. Patrick can barely take it, there’s been so much he’s thought about and you’re kissing him like you need it and the second the words, “fuck me,” fall from your lips he’s on the task. He almost ripped your underwear off you, the lust of it all gets the best of him and he’s on the bed, long arms ridding you of your underwear and his hand dipping between your thighs. You’re so wet, it’s all for him, he’s always wondered how affected you were by him. In seconds he’s positioned and in one thrust he’s inside you.

It’s almost violent how rough he is. He’s already lifted your leg over his shoulder and he’s fucking into you harder than he even knew he could and you’re moaning in his ear and it’s all he’s wanted for far too fucking long. “God- you feel so good.” He groans, hand gripping the flesh of your thigh as it rests against his shoulder. Your hand is tangled in his curls, pulling ever so slightly. This was for every time you bent over in a short skirt, this was for every time you sat on his lap, this was for every time you gave him that sly smirk. And you could feel all of it, all of him as he pounded into you mercilessly. “Fuck…”

You’re moaning his name just how he imagined it and it feels almost pornographic the way he’s getting exactly what he wants. But your nails are digging into the skin of his back and you’re enjoying it too, so he’s happy you’re happy and it’s all perfect. “Harder,” you plead and you’re breathing hard, moaning his name louder as he does exactly what you say. He hates feeling his orgasm approaching he doesn’t want to waste this perfect situation. “Fuck, I’m so close, I’m so close-“ he manages. You kiss him and it’s harsh and a little sloppy but it’s the fact he’s rapidly and roughly thrusting into you that makes it a bit difficult. Patrick leans away from just for a moment to see you better and, “God, you’re so beautiful,” slips out of his mouth and you’re kissing him again. “I’m so close-“

“Uh huh?” You smirk and it’s gorgeous and it’s evil.

“Oh, fuck, I’m-,” he couldn’t get the full sentence out, skin against skin harder than before, harder than anything and you’re moaning as he finishes into you just as hard. Your hands slide over his skin and back into his hair and he kisses you as his orgasm is dying down into just heavy breathing and a slight sheen of sweat. You’re smiling like something is funny and without the thrusting Patrick takes the chance to kiss you again, you giggling between every breath and cupping his face sweetly like he didn’t just fuck you into the mattress.

“Say you’ll-“ he’s interrupted by a kiss. “Go out with me.” Patrick says, cat out of the bag whoops he fucked you turns out he really fucking likes you. “Go out with me.”

“When?” You ask. He’s not expecting that answer. He grins and kisses you again, hard, passionately. And you’re giggling again and you’re adorable and he hasn’t even pulled out yet.

“Tomorrow,” he answers. Still breathing hard.

“Perfect.” You grin so widely. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he’s finally letting himself feel the wholesome side to wanting you. He cleans you up, which he’s never done for anyone, but cleaning ends up with his head between your thighs just to finish the job and another tied end is Patrick no longer has to wonder how you taste.

He doesn’t tell Art about any of it.

And he picks you up the next day and you’re gorgeous and your skirt is mid-thigh and as fun as it was, Patrick likes being able to talk to you without having to worry too much about staring at anything the wrong way. It was fun to tease but it’s more fun when the date is over and you’re feeling euphoric over the way he looks at you and his smile and how his hands slide around your waist before he pulls you into a kiss. There’s no reason to tease anymore. He’s right where you want him. And Patrick has no need to want anymore, he has too, in all the ways he could possibly need. He kisses you and it feels right. Sweet.

Sure, a few hours later he’s back in your bed but it’s only after the longest conversation of your life. Apparently, Patrick has kissed Art too and it’s something you laugh about for far too long. Without anything to want he’s no longer able to distract himself from just how perfect you are. He kisses your forehead when he says goodnight and all is well. Ask anyone though, Patrick is absolutely insane about his girlfriend.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: Play fighting with M6

Julian

A duel, you say? Allow him to demonstrate his years of combat experience - oh you're stronger than he expected

Wait that's kind of hot

Makes no further effort to win. Does he pretend like he's trying? Yes. Have you seen how he fights when he's actually trying? Yes. Is there a marked difference between now and then? Absolutely

Oh no, you've pinned him again, MC, oh nooo ...

The only way to convince him to take it seriously is if you make some kind of bet ahead of time for something that you know he wants (e.g., unlimited quantities of caffeine for the next 24 hours)

In which case you will actually have to struggle, but you must bear in mind that this is someone who has survived so far on wit and the ability to make himself useful. He is not a combat artist

You have a good chance at winning anyways, only this time he's significantly sweatier from the effort of losing

Will absolutely try to distract you so he can get the upper hand (again, assuming that he's interested in winning)

MC, look over there! MC, has he ever told you about that one adventure near the strait of seals? MC, are you ticklish?

Asra

They are stronger than they look, and to this day nobody knows why because you've never seen them work out in their life

(it's the lifetime of constant magic use, it takes more physical stamina than you'd expect)

He's also got more practice getting through a fight than he'd like to admit to after spending his childhood on the streets

All this to say, they know how to win and you can tell

Except that he's not nearly as focused on winning as he is on finding ways to make you laugh and smile and plant a kiss wherever you're the most ticklish

Play fighting with them follows the following steps:

1) initiate fight

2) get consistently pinned into different snuggling positions

3) give up and snuggle, OR

4) alternate ending: don't give up, keep squirming out of his grip until he's tired of it all and

5) they grab the closest blanket (potentially out of thin air) and wrap you into an MC-burrito so they can snuggle you in peace (finally) while you wriggle and pout

Nadia

Hasn't done this since she was a child and her older sisters would challenge her to it. Doesn't know why you're interested in such a childish past time, but if it makes you happy ...

Hm. This is more fun than she expected

Especially when it involves lovingly pinning you and watching you try to struggle out of her hold

Actually, if you want to conserve energy, you might want to try adjusting your grip - like so - see?

And when it comes to grappling, you'd do well to shift your weight to the other leg a little more - yes, exactly like that

What starts as a play fight will quickly turn into a grappling lesson

Which is still plenty enjoyable, but it's not exactly what you were going for when you started it

No worries though. Your countess does enjoy a challenge, so improving your own skills will only serve you down the road when you initiate a rematch

If you get tired but don't want to surrender, tickling will work to get you out of her grip

Only do this with caution, as she will remember it and pay you back

Muriel

Play fighting with Muriel is impossible, but not for the reasons that you would think

To begin with, it's difficult to initiate. If you walk up to him with a broad grin and say "let's fight", he'll start checking you over to see if you've hit your head

If you run at him for a playful tackle, he'll just stand there unmoving and watch you "splat" onto him. You have strange ways of initiating physical contact and showing affection, but he doesn't judge

If anything he'll just awkwardly pat your head and then look away so you can't see his blush

The closest you'll get is by telling him you want to spar, but then he'll take it very seriously because it's important that you don't let Morga's training go to waste (and you should protect yourself)

He'll make space in the clearing and fetch your bow and his staff and set up some practice targets for you

By then you won't have the heart to tell him that that's not what you meant so it's going to be an afternoon of training instead

On the plus side, you have the benefit of watching him work out those muscles

Portia

Oh, now you're speaking her love language!

She is also very strong, but she knows that the whole point of a play fight is the fun of testing each other's limits, so she's not going to put all of her strength into defeating you

Unless, of course, you don't seem like you're giving it your all either

Well now she's fired up

Something to know about being close to Portia: she gets competitive very quickly and doesn't like giving up

The more she thinks you're holding back, the more she's going to push you until she's either found your limit or you've found hers

Play fighting has been known to devolve into a pillow fight, by the way, which begins with flying pillows

And continues with Pepi getting worked up and pouncing on said flying pillows

And ends with feathers flying everywhere while the cat subdues her foe (the now shredded pillowcase) and Portia spends the next two days picking them out of her hair

She will unironically shake your hand and say "good match" after

Lucio

He always starts off by taking it more seriously than is warranted

This is a golden opportunity to show off how strong and manly and impressive he is

Ooh, this is a lot of physical contact

He likes this. He likes this quite a lot

He thinks he can take advantage of this

All of a sudden he's completely lost focus (which you're lucky for, because unless you have a level of combat experience similar to his, he's got an advantage in both skill and enhanced arm strength)

Hey, if his shirt "accidentally" comes even more unbuttoned than it already is, that's a mere coincidence and he has no idea what you're talking about (though he doesn't mind you looking)

Oh no, there goes his cape too!!

And his shoes. And his jacket. You should probably call it quits before Mercedes and Melchior decide to play tug-of-war with his satchel and ultimately run off and bury it

Speaking of, the dogs will come running and barking if they think Lucio is losing and can't tell that it's on purpose

If his makeup gets smudged he'll pout until you kiss it better

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 1: A Walk In The Forest With The Devil

Content warning: dubious consent (Sukuna touching reader. This chapter is quite stressful, please read with care), gore, implied cannibalism, panic attack, description of a dead body

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Heir - Public Memory Feral Love - Chelsea Wolfe

* * * * *

Prologue | Chapter 2

* * * * *

The day of your wedding felt uncomfortably hot. Everything stuck with humidity, creating a hellish, suffocating atmosphere.

Considering the situation you faced, it fits perfectly. 

Fidgeting with your silk gloves, you eye yourself in the mirror, clothed in the most ridiculous kimono you've ever seen. Your sister, a calming presence behind you, has spent hours meticulously assisting with your wedding preparations.

You notice she has been babbling on about something; however, a persistent buzzing in your ears distracts you, rendering her words unintelligible. You watch her lips move rapidly, hands gesturing excessively, yet you hear nothing. She is like a vibrant river, flowing and gushing with life, while you feel like a dead animal—rotting on the ground, forgotten.

A bead of sweat threatens to escape from your hairline, and you worry it will ruin your sister's efforts. Although you don't particularly care, she has been working on this for quite some time.

You blink twice, staring at your gloved hands, wringing them as you gather your thoughts.

"Sorry, Yuna, what did you say?" you ask as you snap out of your daze.

Your sister briefly pouts before returning to secure the final piece of your garment. She seems to believe this is a genuine wedding, oblivious that her safety hinges on your compliance. All she knows is that your father has arranged for you to marry Ryomen Sukuna, aiming to secure peace between your clans, which is a lie.

"I said, if it's worth anything, you look beautiful right now," Yuna remarks, stepping back to admire you. She licks her thumb and smooths a few stubborn strands of hair that refuse to cooperate in the heat.

Beauty is the last thing on your mind. 

"Thank you. I feel lovely," you manage to say through gritted teeth, swallowing her compliment and forcing a smile. All you want is to reassure her until this is over.

Your sister smiles warmly and moves around you, ensuring every detail is perfect. You observe a slight furrow on her brow as she focuses on enhancing your beauty. In your mother's absence, she's taking on this role admirably, which breaks your heart. Thoughts of her bring a lump to your throat, so you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

You fill your mind with the plan to assassinate your future husband. Knowing it won't be simple.

The King of Curses is a powerful adversary, and you lack combat skills. Remembering your father's strict instruction to avoid publicly killing him so as not to dishonour the attending clans, you opt for seduction as your strategy. The plan is to make him vulnerable and catch him off guard. Perhaps you can end it all with some batting of your eyelashes, a few chaste touches, and a kiss or two.

"What do you think he will be like?" Yuna asks as she fusses with some gaudy ornament in your hair.

You pause to consider several possibilities: a psychopath, a cannibal, a fiend. Which description would comfort her more?

"I'm certain he will be the perfect gentleman," you reply flatly, making sure not to reveal anything as you observe your sister in the mirror's reflection. You notice her tongue poking out in concentration as she arranges your hair.

"Do you think he will be gentle, with all those hands and mouths of his?" she asks, blushing as she adjusts the hairpiece.

You freeze. Did she really have to bring that up now?

"You're asking me about that?" you give her a pointed glare.

You had never met Sukuna and had only heard stories of his unusual physical abnormalities. You understood her curiosity, but still...

She shrugs and laughs. The sound is light and airy, reflecting her carefree nature. 

“I was curious what you thought was all,” she casually remarks before continuing her task.

You won't experience being with him like that because he'll be dead, or at least you hope so. You've never seduced a man before, but you understand how men operate. They appear to desire anything that moves, and you know you'll look stunning today. How could he possibly resist?

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in!" you and your sister say simultaneously. The harmony warms your heart.

Your father enters the room, and your mood instantly sours. You glare at him in the mirror before turning away as he approaches.

"My lovely girls!" He says with a smile that feels more cutting than warm, his arms outstretched. You avoid his gaze, nervously fidgeting with your hands again, tempted to pull your sister closer but restraining yourself.

"Father!" Yuna exclaims cheerfully, moving towards him and linking her arm through his. You want nothing more than to get up and shake some sense into her. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

As they approach, your father scrutinizes you in the mirror while you return his glare. He examines every detail, clearly expecting you to look impeccable and behave respectfully to charm the monster.

Through your eyes, an unspoken conversation unfolds. You watch as he places a firm hand on your sister's waist and another on your shoulder. His fingers dig into you.

You flinch.

Don’t touch me.

You despise being touched, especially by your father, whose grip is always too tight, too forceful. And at this moment, the threat is unmistakable. You swallow the lump in your throat and resist the urge to pull away.

"Beautiful doesn't even begin to describe her. She's positively glowing like a dying star just waiting to burn out," he remarks with a hint of irony.

The smile you force in response is like bitter poison.

Meanwhile, your oblivious sister moves to the corner of the room to fetch something.

Your father leans in close to you as you face the mirror.

"Remember, if you dare to disappoint me, her body will be the punishment," he whispers ominously before straightening up. You maintain a composed expression as your sister returns with a stem of wisteria flowers.

She stands before you, delicately placing the fragile blooms in your hair to complete the look.

"There," she announces, stepping back next to your father to assess her handiwork. "You look perfect." You're almost tempted to appreciate your appearance, but really, what’s the point?

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in!" Your sister calls out alone this time while you and your father exchange hostile glances.

The door opens, and standing there is Onishi, your father’s chief advisor—a man known for his vile reputation. Now that you and your sister are adults, his lecherous looks only became more pointed and invasive, causing your stomach to knot. You remembered all too well how he used to stare at you both as young girls with a shameless hunger that made your skin crawl.

“Lord Kasai, the wedding procession is ready to depart,” he informs your father. After a bow, he quickly leaves the room, briefly glancing at your sister on his way out.

Time to go.

Your sister squeals with excitement, making you wrinkle your nose. She can be so clueless sometimes.

"Well, my darlings, let's not keep Lord Sukuna waiting," your father says, pulling you both close under his arms. You resent this display of control he's asserting, and you lean away from the embrace. "I'm certain today will be unforgettable."

* * * * *

The Kasai clan compound, your home, was a three-day ride from where you had prepared today. By midday, everyone departs on horseback.

Your sister and father lead the procession. Behind them, you follow closely, flanked by several attendants who occasionally offer you means to cool yourself. A large contingent of clan members trail behind.

The road stretches southward, guiding your journey toward the shrine where the wedding celebrations would soon commence. It will also become your new home, which won’t be permanent in your mind.

Riding a horse in your elaborate multi-layer garment is challenging, especially compounded by the relentless sun that seems determined to wreak havoc on your appearance. You are certain your hair is unravelling, and your makeup is smudging down your face. Your sister will be upset when she sees you dismount.

As the procession moves deeper into the forest towards its destination, you can’t ignore your horse's peculiar behaviour. Its ears stand upright, constantly swivelling as if attentively listening to an unseen presence. A low whine emanates from its throat, and its tail twitches nervously. You can feel the tension in its muscles beneath you, as though it was on the verge of bolting away from whatever was unsettling it.

"Easy now, girl," you whisper soothingly, placing a calming hand on the horse's neck. Despite your attempts to quiet her, she exhales sharply through her nostrils, betraying her fear.

Lifting your head, you let your gaze sweep over the packed dirt road and the dense forest flanking it on both sides.

Nothing.

Then, suddenly, a murder of crows erupts from the treetops ahead, their harsh caws muted over the pounding of hooves. They scatter out of the forest, their black forms stark against the hazy sky.

People say animals can sense danger before it strikes, alert to the presence of a predator.

Your eyes dart to your sister and father leading the group.

"Father!" Your voice rings out with urgency.

"Quiet!" he snaps, the word sharp like a point.

Both of them immediately pull hard on their reins, bringing their horses to an abrupt halt. You tug on your own, urging your horse to stop. The rest of the group follows suit, halting in a rippling sequence behind you. Adjusting your position on the horse, you straighten up and scan the surroundings again, looking for any clue as to why you had suddenly stopped.

The sun seems to be almost burning now. Sweat rolls down your back, soaking your garment. A soft breeze blows through the trees, initially refreshing as it cools your sweaty skin. However, it carries something else with it.

The acrid scent of blood assaults your nostrils. It’s thick, drying out your mouth.

Then you hear the sound of flesh tearing under teeth.

Fear snakes through your bones before you notice the presence of the man—or rather, the monster—crouching near the forest's edge. Partially concealed by the tall grass, his body was tense and flexing as he held a woman—who appeared to be dead—in his lower pair of arms.

You've witnessed plenty of violence and brutality in your time. But nothing could have prepared you for witnessing this. No one was ready. You were acutely aware of the attendant behind, muttering in panicked whispers. You can’t bring yourself to turn and face her, not wanting to give this anomaly your back.

With a horrific crack and a pull, an arm was torn off and flung somewhere unseen. There was more sick, wet pounding of flesh before it eventually quieted. It became unnervingly quiet. Too quiet. Angling his head slightly, he was no doubt aware of your group’s presence. You notice two red eyes on one side, studying everyone while simultaneously looking elsewhere.

Finally, he stood to his full height.

Massive. He is massive.

Even from this distance, his intimidating presence was unmistakable.

He turns, his enormous strides carrying him out of the tall grass. In one of his lower hands, he clutched the dead woman by her forearm.

Your stomach drops as you realize this is your first glimpse of your soon-to-be husband.

He was dressed in only a loose-fitting hakama, which you had initially thought was white but now appears dark and flecked with blood stains. Blush pink hair glints in the harsh sunlight. You've heard rumours about his dual visage, but seeing it in person makes you uncertain where to focus.

Blood drips from his mouth and chin, which he refuses to wipe off. The dead woman he clutches bears wounds on her neck and shoulder that he seems fixated on. A torn flap of skin hangs loosely from where he had been feasting and sways with his movements.

At that moment, a horrible thought crosses your mind: you feel tempted to turn your horse around and flee, which would doom your sister. The fact that you even entertain such an idea bewilders you.

You notice your father's horse taking a few steps, effectively snapping you from your daze.

"Sukuna Ryomen," your father's voice falters as he utters the name. Inwardly, you laugh, pleased to see your father humbled. "As the patriarch of the Kasai clan, I am here to fulfill our agreement to unite our clans through marriage."

Sukuna remains silent. He stands motionless, letting his ominous energy roll off him in waves that make you feel like you are drowning. His four red orbs survey everyone calmly, calculating every detail.

With a subtle scoff, he begins to approach the procession.

Holding the woman tightly in a lower hand, he drags her flaccid body across the ground, allowing the lolling face to scrape over rocks and clumps of dirt. Her hair, which was once a deep copper-brown, is matted with blood, and bits of foliage cling to tangled strands. What used to be a cream-coloured robe is stained red and torn in certain areas.

As he gets closer, the horses' unease swells. They snort and puff outbursts of hot air while their hooves paw at the ground, creating a rhythm of nervous energy.

The monster fixes his gaze on your sister and father. Upon reaching them, he intently studies her. You struggle with every ounce of restraint to keep from intervening.

A muscle feathers in his firmly set jaw, and then he opens his mouth to speak.

"Is this my bride?" he drawls.

His voice is deep, rough, stern, rattling your insides.

You're surprised your sister maintains her composure, betraying no reaction. However, you do notice her shoulders subtly giving way.

"No. This is my other daughter, Yuna." Your father turns toward you, giving you a challenging look to step forward and begin your task.

It’s time to introduce yourself to the King of Curses.

Nudging your frightened horse forward, you begin to approach. The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears, a steady thump that reverberates through your chest and settles heavily in your stomach.

Sukuna lazily drags his attention to you, gaze picking you apart from head to toe, keenly noting the signs of weariness from your journey. He’s displeased. His expression betrays his feelings, darkening with disgust as his upper lip twitches.

"Wait! My Lord, you're not supposed to see the bride yet. It's bad luck," Yuna's voice rises, making you blanch.

Bad luck? This entire cursed nuptial was bad luck.

Ignoring your sister, Sukuna moves forward. His bare feet thud against the packed earth. He drags the mangled woman behind him as if unwilling to let it go. You approach each other until you're face to face. 

Even sitting on horseback, you're just barely at eye level with him. The absurd height difference is evident. Tilting his head slightly, he picks you apart with the same intensity he used to pick apart the body he holds.

A prickling sensation radiates beneath your gloves, tingling from your palms to your fingertips as anxiety creeps in.

Movement on his navel draws your attention away from his face. A slit appears, slowly widening to reveal a large, grotesque maw lined with teeth. As you watch in horrified fascination, a tongue unfurls from the opening, wriggling out and licking the air. Repulsed, you look away.

How can you possibly charm this thing?

Your horse shifts nervously, making you tense as you tightly grip the reins in your hands.

"Easy, girl," you soothe her with a pat before bracing yourself to speak to him for the first time.

“Lord Sukuna, my name is—”

"You're even uglier than I expected," he interrupts harshly, lips curling back in a sneer, showing teeth stained with blood.

The audacity. You clench your teeth, hard, resisting the urge to insult him back.

"My Lord?" you manage to grit out.

Sukuna stares for a moment before bursting into deep, unrestrained laughter.

"My Lord? " he repeats, mocking you. "Oh, she has been trained, how delightful," His laughter edges towards manic as he drops the body, letting it slump beside your mount. "What other tricks did they teach you, little bitch? Tell me."

It takes everything you can to resist the urge to retaliate to his provocations. Your gaze flicks to your father, who shoots you a stern look, silently warning you to behave. You understand that provoking Sukuna could endanger everyone, which you don’t want, especially with your sister present.

“Nothing else to say? How disappointing,” Sukuna hums, crossing his upper arms over his chest.

Oh, how you want to cut him down.

“My Lord, I would—”

"Daughter," your father interjects firmly before you can finish your sentence. "Lord Sukuna, we would be honoured if you joined us for the rest of the journey to your shrine," he adds, adjusting his posture slightly to assert control.

Sukuna appears deep in thought, maintaining unwavering eye contact with you. It feels like a tense, silent standoff. You make an effort to keep your expression neutral and as charming as possible.

You still feel like you're drowning under those red orbs.

"Hm, no," he says flatly, lifting the body from the ground.

Keeping unbroken eye contact with you, he grips a fistful of the woman's dirtied hair, fingers digging into the skull, his muscles tense. Slowly, he begins to pull. You watch with horror as the flesh stretches until, gradually, it tears. There's a snap as the muscle fibres finally give way and a plume of blood spurts. The head comes off, neck and all.

You gag.

Vomit crawls its way up your throat. You lean forward, gripping your horse for support as you fight the urge to retch. Several unsteady mutters ripple through the rest of your group.

Sukuna, pleased with your reaction, casually discards the body onto the ground. You watch as blood and gore soak into the earth. He then proceeds to stroll toward your father and presents him with the severed head. Your father accepts begrudgingly and without uttering a word.

Is this some kind of power play between two men vying for control?

Sukuna murmurs a few words to your father, casting a final glance in your direction before calmly striding toward the edge of the forest. You watch as he takes measured steps, his figure gradually disappearing into the dense canopy of trees, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

You exhale.

What just happened?

Your father, still holding the woman’s decapitated head, lets it fall to the ground with a wet thud. He then shifts his attention to you, motioning for you to approach. Guiding your mount closer, you position yourself beside him.

"He is wretched," you spit out, glancing over at your sister, whose eyes widen in alarm at your dishevelled state.

"You look awful," she exclaims, her voice filled with concern. "I will need to fix everything once we arrive."

"Why is that your priority at this moment?" you ask incredulously, taken aback by her apparent lack of concern for the situation. The expression on your sister's face in response makes you immediately regret your words, but the scene you've just witnessed is now carved into your mind. That poor woman’s body. Mutilated, torn apart, and discarded on the road to dry up in the sun.

"It doesn't matter now. There won't be time for that," your father interrupts firmly, dismounting his horse and striding towards you.

"Father?" your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Sukuna requests you accompany him back to the shrine. We will meet you there shortly to commence the ceremony," he emphasizes, pulling you down from your horse, the folds of your kimono cascading around you.

The idea fills you with unease. You weren't prepared to be alone with him yet.

"Is there any way to refuse?" you inquire tentatively.

"No," your father snaps abruptly, gripping your forearm tightly as he steers you towards the tree line. You manage to wrench your arm free, earning a stern glare from him as he steps closer, his face before yours. 

"Use this to your advantage," he whispers urgently. "If you find an opportunity, seize it. You might not have to go through with the wedding."

Your throat constricts as you swallow hard.

“But you saw what he just did. What if he tries to kill me?”

The scowl on his mouth deepens, shifting the cartilage in his nose. His lips purse into a thin line, making the creases and wrinkles on his face appear sharp and unkind.

“He won't. He relishes his power over our family now that we have given you to him. Now get in that fucking forest before I have Onishi slit your sister’s throat or worse.”

Your upper lip quivers at the threat. "Okay," you respond nervously.

"Good, now get going," he says harshly, spittle flying from his mouth. He shoves you into the thick undergrowth.

Stumbling slightly, you manage to turn back for one last glance at your sister. Her anxious gaze meets yours, and you silently mouth, "I'll meet you at the shrine."

Taking a deep breath, you gather the edges of your kimono and step into the dense forest.

The reality of being alone with Sukuna for the first time begins to settle in, causing your palms to sweat inside your silk gloves. You steel yourself, knowing you must find a way to turn this situation to your advantage.

Time to confront the monster yourself.

* * * * *

You continue beyond the tree line. The sound of hooves stomping into the earth echoes behind you, indicating that the procession has resumed its journey toward the shrine.

After a few careful steps, you come to a halt. Sukuna is nowhere in sight. You listen intently for his heavy footfalls, but are only met with silence. You are completely alone out here, which gives you pause, remembering how all the animals reacted in his presence. Your fingers twitch nervously at your side.

You exhale.

Should I call out to him?

“Lord Sukuna?” Your voice echoes.

Silence.

Glancing around, something catches your attention—a spattering of blood on foliage. Perhaps a trail left by him. With no other leads, you decide following the bloodstains might guide you to him.

Lifting your kimono to prevent tripping, you cautiously navigate around a cluster of rocks and tree roots, tracing the path marked by blood. You mutter under your breath; you feel slightly anxious that he might be compelling you to search for him.

With each step, you delve deeper into the forest.

The rising humidity envelops you in an uncomfortable embrace, and a stray strand of hair falls across your vision, adding to the growing disarray. "You are even uglier than I expected," his cruel words rattle around in your brain. Letting out a strained sigh, you realize this isn’t going to be easy.

As you continue to walk, your mind drifts to the dead, partially eaten woman rotting on the dirt road. What if your father’s judgment is wrong, and Sukuna ambushes you? Can you truly consider yourself safe from his wrath merely by your title as his bride? What will become of your sister should anything happen to you? Struggling to quell these unsettling thoughts, you make a concerted effort to regain your focus.

After some time, the blood trail ends, leading you to a flowing stream. The surface sparkles in the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. Sweat pools at your lower back, prompting you to pull the fabric away in search of relief. Eyeing the water, you are tempted to wade in to escape the stifling heat. You lick your parched lips and decide to at least dip your toes in.

You step towards it, and the air changes. An ominous energy glides up your body, making you stop.

He’s here, and he’s watching you.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Your eyes dart around the area until his large frame catches your attention. He stands beneath the shadow of an oak tree by the water’s edge, watching you intently, pinning you down with those red orbs. As soon as he sees you've noticed him, he steps away from where he is standing and approaches.

Why must he be so enormous? Every aspect of his presence commands attention. You cannot look or breathe without wanting to crawl away and cower.

A slight tremble in your legs keeps you rooted to the spot as he deliberately takes his time approaching you. His pace is unhurried, as if he possesses all the time in the world while you are the one left waiting.

Tightness knots low in your belly.

At last, he reaches you, towering like a monolith and casting a dark shadow with his presence. You had been looking down, but self-consciously, you lifted your head, straining your neck to look up at him.

You won't deny it. Sukuna is striking in a harsh and cruel sort of way. His features are strong, with a straight nose, an angled jawline, and a defined brow. His neck is thick, all corded muscle, and it’s clear you wouldn’t be able to wrap both of your hands around it if you wanted to strangle him. His blush pink hair is pushed back, set in a way that seems like controlled chaos. The right side of his face, with that mask and its larger orbs, pulls at you the most. The texture of it appears rough, with grooves that jut out slightly. You wonder why or what it even is. The rest of him is dense, with prominent tendons and fibres.

Upon closer inspection, you observe that his face, hands, and chest are now free of blood. A subtle sheen suggests he has recently cleaned himself, likely explaining why the trail led you to this stream. Several beads of water trickle slowly down his neck, outlining paths over his exposed chest.

Your throat dries as you realize you've been staring for too long. You lower your gaze, unable to endure the silence any further, and clear your throat.

“You asked for my presence, my Lord?” you ask nervously.

Without responding, he begins circling you like a predator, each step resonating with the crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot. Unnerved, you keep your eyes fixed on him, striving to maintain your composure as he examines you from every angle. This scrutiny continues several times, with him circling, examining, and deliberating. Finally, he comes to a halt in front of you.

“How old are you?” he probes.

“Twenty-five,” you reply quietly.

“Hm.”

Leaning closer, he reaches out a hand towards your face, compelling you to flinch instinctively. He notices your reaction, which causes him to grin, contorting the black tattoos on his face. Running his fingers through your smudged makeup, his touch is deliberate and firm, leaving impressions on your skin. You bite down on the inside of your cheek. As he pulls his hand back, you notice streaks of makeup staining his fingertips, which he rubs together thoughtfully.

“When we arrive, take that shit off your face,” he remarks curtly.

You clench your fists.

“Of course.”

With a vacant stare fixed on you, he extends his fingers towards you again. This time, he plucks the wisteria flowers that survived the journey and removes them one by one from your hair. Thoughtlessly casting aside the delicate adornments your sister had carefully placed, he then moves away from you. You observe in silence, gazing down at the fragile purple petals strewn upon the ground.

A sharp ache seizes your chest.

“Come,” he orders over his shoulder, beckoning you with two fingers and starting to walk with an air that suggests he expects you to follow like a dog called to heel. Despite the demeaning manner, you gather your hem to hurry after him.

Deeper into the forest. Closer to the shrine.

The walk continues in disquiet, the forest enveloping you with its silence. The canopy above provides scant refuge from the brutal sun, and the thick humidity lingers. Bringing your hand up, you attempt to fan yourself, hindered by the discomfort of your damnable kimono.

As you trail behind Sukuna, you continue assessing him, searching for any weakness or exploitable detail. Your gaze fixes on his four muscular arms, noticing the black ink adorning his skin. Next, the sinewy movement of his back muscles captures your attention.

He looms large and solid. A huge target.

Narrowing your eyes, you focus on the space between his lower shoulders, tracing the lines of his back tattoo. Beneath your silk gloves, your fingers itch uncomfortably, the urge to reach out and end him growing stronger.

With his back turned to you, this could be your chance.

With trembling hands, you peel off one glove and grip it tightly in the other. Moving cautiously, you edge closer to Sukuna, careful to avoid making excessive noise. As you extend your hand, you must concentrate hard to reach your gift. Finally, you sense its faint hum beneath your fingertips. Your heart pounds in your chest, drowning out all other sounds as you prepare for this pivotal moment.

End this before it even begins—

"What the hell are you doing?" Sukuna abruptly halts his steps and turns around, staring down at you.

No!

You retract your hand in a panicked blur, hastily shoving it back into your glove. His lower eyes fixate on your hand while his upper pair scrutinize your flushed, heated face.

“N-nothing,” you mumble, voice barely audible, feeling the space around him growing hostile.

A serious crease forms above his nose.

“You were about to touch me with your vile little fingers. Did I say you could touch me?” His voice turns cold, laced with aggression.

“Well, no, I—”

“Then what the fuck were you doing?” He steps closer, gripping your chin, preventing you from looking away. “I don’t appreciate being touched by mutts.”

Nervously, you wring your hands together, fingers intertwining in a familiar gesture that surfaces whenever you are anxious.

His grip becomes harsh. Dull nails dig into your soft skin. You frantically search for an explanation.

"I apologize," you somehow manage to say, your voice shaky. "I... I wanted to... to see your tattoos up close," you blurt out, immediately regretting the feeble excuse. 

“Tch. You wanted to see my tattoos,” he says, tone heavy with disbelief.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have done that.” You soften your voice, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“Are you that needy that you felt the necessity to touch me before we are wed?”

Your skin bristles.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.”

Sukuna releases your chin and crosses his arms, staring intently at you as though lost in thought, reflecting deeply on something. You find yourself disliking this demeanour of his. It makes him less predictable and more cunning, as if he’s devising new ways to toy with you.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly, throwing you off guard.

Irritation and embarrassment flush your face at the intrusive question.

"Excuse me?" You attempt to keep the bitterness out of your voice, though it rises an octave.

“You heard me.” A smirk breaks across his lips. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

Another flush of irritation races up your spine, leaving you peppered with more sweat than you can handle.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” The words slip out before you can consider their consequences.

The smirk that was there a moment ago is now gone. Sukuna's upper arm snaps out, his fingers engulfing your entire neck. He pulls you close, pressing your clothed chest against his bare one, effectively preventing any swift retaliation. You feel your heartbeat pulsing against the flat of his palm.

Fear worms its way into you. 

Looming into your face, his breath washes over you.

“Are you an imbecile? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“No,” you breathe as his grip tightens slightly.

He looks down at your face with disdain, waiting for a response.

A heartbeat passes.

“Yes,” you admit quietly, feeling exposed. “I’m a virgin.”

Casting a haughty look, Sukuna smacks his lips together. His grip loosens on your throat, and then it falls away.

He scoffs.

“Of course, look at you. You're pathetic.”

You hold your tongue, casting him a slight frown that you swiftly erase, though he catches it.

"Don't look at me like that," he laughs, the noise lacking any warmth. “Now I see why you wanted my attention." His expression shifts again to something indiscernible. His mood swings are starting to grate on you. "I can address that issue for you sooner, perhaps even immediately."

You take a small step back.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord?" You respond respectfully, uncertain if you heard him correctly. He lifts his eyebrow and steps forward, returning your nervous gaze with a more contentious expression.

“You seem to be hard of hearing. I've had to repeat myself, and it's becoming tedious." His voice is low, the words wrapping around your throat as if they’re his hands.

You step back again.

He moves closer.

Your heart races as you realize you’re not prepared for this moment. You planned to lure the creature and catch him off guard, but now you find yourself caught off guard instead.

"I don't think that's appropriate,” you murmur, edging further away. “Let's wait until after the ceremony.”

"I think I’ll have a taste of my bride before she becomes my wife." His mouth rolls up, flashing a bit of canines that appear all too sharp, while his eyes widen with hunger.

That look tells you everything. You've glimpsed it before, fleetingly on other men but never so intensely.

He’s ravenous.

Your instincts scream at you to run, but fleeing will only cause more trouble. As your father put it, this is an opportunity. Fine, you’ll take it—use it. Find another moment to place a hand on the monster and end him.

Forcing yourself to freeze in place, you watch through your lashes as he approaches slowly, like you're a forest animal he’s afraid of scaring off. How deceptive of him. This thing is not gentle. He’s fucking toying with you.

Reaching down, you subtly pinch one of your silk gloves, preparing to slip it free while he distracts himself with your body. But before you can act, one of his lower hands clamps around your wrist.

You tense, eyes snapping to his.

Shit.

A crooked grin widens across Sukuna’s face, and suddenly, he’s maneuvering you.

Turning you, he pulls you into him so hard that your back thuds against his chest. The impact fuses both your bodies together, your softness to his cutting muscle. Swiftly, he grasps your other wrist, holding both firmly at your sides, while the top pair presses down on your shoulders, forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his red gaze.

“Let's see how sensitive your body is.” His voice deepens as he leans over your shoulder and slides his upper hands down the front of your garment.

Don’t panic. Do not panic.

Two hands dip into the panels of your kimono, and he takes his time while his hands find their way into your undergarment. Massive palms splay against your breasts, cupping them firmly, making you whimper as your body grows warmer.

Sukuna bends, lowering his head next to yours.

"Already whining?" There’s a smirk in his voice, and as he speaks low against your nape, his breath gently stirs your hair. The heavy dampness in the forest, mingling with his warm exhale, threatens to overwhelm you.

Saliva pools then dries in your mouth, and when you try to respond, no words come out.

Pushing up on your sensitive breasts, Sukuna begins to knead and poke his fingertips into the soft flesh. You pant as his left hand comes up to the place where your pulse thrums wildly in your chest.

"Your little heart is beating so fast," he chuckles. "There's no need to be afraid."

That ever-present condescending tone makes your face scrunch up, and you shift uncomfortably.

His right hand clenches reflexively on your breast while the other withdraws from the stuffy garment. You watch nervously as it ascends to the neckline of your kimono, his fingers curling possessively around the delicate fabric.

He stills. You swallow.

“What are you do—”

He rips it open in one smooth motion, exposing your swelling chest and nipples to his eyes.

“There you are,” he hisses.

In shame, you slam your eyes shut. This man, this creature, is the first to ever see you.

“Open your eyes!” The command cuts sharply, but it's softened by something gently brushing the crest of your ear.

Shuddering, you reluctantly obey, only to observe his large fingers circling your areolas, moving lazily, tauntingly.

Your breathing increases, and you become lightheaded. Turning your head slightly, you attempt to focus on anything—a tree, a rock, anything to distract from the moment.

"Don’t look away.” He tightens his lower hands on your wrists to the point of pain. Your head snaps back, and you look down at your heaving chest. "Better."

Leaning closer, Sukuna’s mask comes into view as he presses it against your face. Your soft, damp cheeks rub against it, allowing you to feel its rough texture and protruding edges. His lower eyes fixate on your breasts while his upper eyes cut to the side, locking on you, drinking in every expression.

Your head swims dangerously.

As Sukuna’s hot breath hits the side of your neck, a solitary bead of sweat trails its way down, gliding past your collarbone, tracing the path to your sternum, and down between your breasts. He pauses the circling of your nipples, as both of you stare, transfixed, captivated by the droplet's unhurried journey until it finally disappears into the fabric of your torn clothing.

A low growl rumbles in Sukuna’s chest, a primal sound that signals his imminent action.

After a moment, he makes his move.

The fingers that have been slowly circling your sensitive flesh drawback. Swiftly, he flicks your nipples. Your breasts sway slightly. Then he does it again. Then again. And again. The feeling is acute and sharp. They harden. Your mouth drops open, and you let out a traitorous groan.

“Already?” he chuckles.

Already what?!

Your mind struggles to comprehend what's happening. And he only makes it worse when his fingers latch onto the sensitive tips, pinching and rolling them, making your back arch against his chest.

“Look at you,” he grunts, watching your spine bow and curve.

The forest is gone from your vision now. Heat is everywhere, crawling over you, seeping into your pores.

Another harsh tug makes your whole body tremble uncontrollably.

"N-no more," you mumble, squirming in his grip, face turning into a sticky mess of sweat.

Ignoring you, he applies more pressure to the hardening nubs, rolling them between his thumb and index fingers with no regard for your words.

He flicks your nipples again, earning him a low whine. Leaning in, he drags his sharp canines across your neck, leaving red marks, followed by a swipe of his rough tongue. You freeze, remembering how he used those teeth to rip flesh from the woman on the road. Panicking, you squirm, shuffling your feet in the undergrowth. Sukuna huffs in disapproval and shoves a knee between your thighs to halt your movements.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his gaze fixed downward, reflecting an intense concentration as he continues to torment your nipples. Sharp pinpricks dance across your skull, intensifying the pulsing in your head. You’re certain you are going to blackout. The overwhelming warmth, the blurred vision, the relentless onslaught—it’s too much.

Letting go of one—now sore—bud, he lets that hand drop down to your navel. The descent is slow, pushing through the torn fabric with ease. He presses his fingertips into your damp skin, rippling it and mapping it out with his touch.

“What else are you keeping from me?” His voice becomes impossibly deeper.

“Please. Lord Sukuna,” you rasp.

"Please, what? It seems you’re having issues with speaking and listening.” His hand comes to a stop, splaying just above your cunt. 

Your breath catches in your throat.

You aren’t ready. Not like this. Not with him.

A sudden sensation startles you. On his palm, it’s as if something has opened up unexpectedly, though all you can discern is the sensation of a wet tongue emerging and intimately licking your skin.

Your eyes close as you struggle to breathe, gasping for gulps of the muggy air.

“Please—”

The damp muscle on his palm licks harder, slathering you in a thick coat of saliva, pulling you back so your eyes open again.

His fingers trail lower… lower, then suddenly pause before withdrawing slightly. It’s as if he’s trying to push you over the edge. See how far he can unravel you. But it doesn’t matter. You’re fighting to stay focused, to stay upright even.

“I’m—I’m going to—”

Your words fade as your vision blurs.

Despite Sukuna's solid frame supporting you from behind, your body slackens under the weight of it all: the forced marriage arrangement, your overwhelming responsibility, the looming threat to your sister's life, the oppressive heat, the monster at your back.

Suddenly, you feel nothing holding you up. You're weightless. Sukuna has seemingly let go of your shaking body, and you’re falling, sinking, eyes closing.

As soon as you hit the forest floor, you faint.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 2

[tohwitchesduels]

REQUEST BATTLES OF WITCHES DUELS - Battle 45: Willow Park vs Gus Porter

Disclaimer: This is not a popularity contest or which character you prefer, in this tournament, you decide who is stronger/better/smarter/etc. opponent.

information for both opponents under the cut to those who don't know what they can do in their battle:

Since both have quite huge profiles, I won't be getting into specifics, just motivations and I will link to their profiles in their names.

Willow Park:

Willow Park is a prodigy in plant magic. Only a few can match her talent and raw power when it comes to her command over plant life. She's also very knowledgeable when it comes to Botanics and is very promising when it comes to them (she knows how to tame various plants and what are they capable of). However, her capabilities only extend to plant magic and not other types of magic.

Willow Park is also very strong, athletic, and sporty. She's the Captain of Flyer Derby Emeral Entrails and managed to defeat the captain of Grudgby team Boscha while playing Grudgby for the first time. It is known that Willow works out and shows a lot of physical strength. The girl knows how to pack a punch.

Willow and Gus are best friends and are always there for each other. Willow has to admit she actually doesn't like the idea of fighting him out of sheer worry that Gus could potentially get hurt with how rough she plays. However, Gus reassured her he would be fine so Willow is doing her best not necessarily because she wants to defeat him but out of respect for him and his efforts.

Willow possesses a palisman and is quite capable when it comes to staff wielding. Also as captain of flyer derby, she's a very proficient and quite skilled flyer. Being capable of flying traditionally and switching midair to surfing. She is also capable of using her staff to enhance her already very potent magic.

Willow's magic is enhanced by her emotional state. If she's confident in herself she's most in control, however, if she's bottling up her feelings or feeling insecure, her magic can turn against her. Her magic also gets stronger once she uses anger and determination to power it.

Gus Porter:

Gus Porter is a prodigy when it comes to illusion magic. Prodigious enough to skip a few grades and even defeat the coven head of illusions with his sheer raw power. Gus displays insane potential and a big imagination when it comes to his magic. Now his powers are still limited by his own imagination and creativity meaning his illusions for the most part can be used mostly for deception and distraction, but during this tournament, Gus finally revised his own skill to find even offensive capabilities of his powers. While Gus did display the willingness to study other tracks, he ultimately never did due to his reassurance in being a master illusionist how easy it comes to him, and how much he can do with illusions alone.

One must know how intelligent Gus is during his battles. He can easily fool and toy with his opponents thanks to his illusions and Gus is also not afraid to either mock or straight-up torture his enemies during his battle just to get the results he needs, and has more than enough raw power to pull his schemes to their fullest. It's worth noting that when Gus feels extreme emotions, his magic only gets amplified, however, the side effects could be that Gus actually loses control over his own powers and gets to be the victim of them too, though thankfully to the magical amplifier from Graye, the risk of that is lesser.

Gus does possess a Palisman and is known to be an utter speed demon. Gus doesn't fly in a traditional sense like most other competitors due, to preferring to surf in the air, but this only further allows him to still cast spells while midair, which mixed with his capacity to trick his opponents more dangerous. It's hard to tell however how good he is in combat with his staff, but it appears he knows how to battle with it if he still used it as a means to fight in LR when briefly facing Hunter.

One of the artifacts I allow Gus to have independently regarding whether or not his opponent also has any supportive gear is the looking glass earring he got after he defeated Adrian. The magical amplifier allows Gus to further concentrate his raw power into specific abilities he has a hard time pulling on his own and even enhancing them in the process, growing more powerful.

Gus and Willow are best friends. Gus wanted to battle his friends in the finals though both Luz and Amity beat him to the race so he requested for both Hunter and Willow to battle him outside of the tournament. Willow was not really confident about this battle as while she respects Gus, she used to protect him for the longest time and now she feels kind of bad to have to duel with him, but Gus reassures her it's alright. After all, he knows what he's about and he can survive (Hunter wouldn't entirely agree with it) so Willow respected Gus's wishes. There is no bad blood, just a friendly duel, it will be alright! Hopefully

Return to Masterpost

[november-rayne]

Chapter Three: The Message

A/N: Being a God has its perks; strength, accelerated healing, stamina...

Word Count: 2200

Rating: Mature

Tags: Loki being a spoiled prince, implied smut, nothing too graphic

Chapter Index

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+ *Minors DNI*

Loki was famished by the time he had finished with the maid from the library. He had made her come three more times before he left her. He took her from behind in front of the fireplace. He had her on her back on the chaise. And the first time he took her, he lowered her onto himself, and she rode him hard while they were still on the sofa.

He forgot to ask for her name, but he made another mental note: ‘Housemaid, short, blonde: good kisser, eager to please, deft hands, comes easily.’

He walked swiftly through the palace with a broad smile, wholly sated but starving. He walked straight for his chambers, taking long strides. His library adventure had occupied most of the early evening, and he missed dinner in the main hall. Not that he cared much; while his parents were away on business, all the courtiers had been demanding too much of his attention, boring him with their tales of inferred affronts or trying to engage him in other political discussions.

“Brother!”  Distracted by his daydreams, he almost ran into his brother, Thor, as he reached the top of the staircase. “I was looking for you at dinner.”

“I missed it,” he said, not slowing his pace.

“I do not dare guess why,” Thor observed the flush in his usually pale cheeks, the messy state of his usually kempt hair, and the disheveled look of his clothes. Not to mention the enormous smile pasted on his face. “Either you just won a fight, or you were dipping your wick somewhere.”

“You are too clever, Brother. I can keep no secret from you. I am just back from the training grounds.”

“Obviously.”  Thor rolled his eyes at his brother’s weak attempt at deception. Loki’s promiscuous reputation was hardly a secret. Ever since he was a teenager, he had basked in the fleshly attention he received after growing into his looks. It was even rumored that he lost his virginity while in the company of two maidens from his history class.

He frequently seduced servants, nobles, and even commoners living in the capital city surrounding the palace. It was a power he loved wielding. He always made sure it was a win-win situation. He relished giving pleasure as much as he loved receiving it. He always used the proper spells to shield himself from getting a child on someone or catching an infection.

When Loki did court, it lasted only a short time. He found keeping company with the same person became tedious after a while. He usually broke things off before the other person got any ideas that it could be a long-term endeavor.

Thor, on the other hand, preferred to court his partners and only took them to bed once promises of commitment were exchanged.

“If you will excuse me now, Brother, I have worked up quite the appetite today and am desperate for a bath.” 

“Of course. But if you could spare some time before breakfast, I would like to get your thoughts on the message from Mother.”  Loki reached into his pocket, double-checking that he remembered the envelope.

“Yes. Yes. Nothing would make me happier.” 

Thor’s eyebrows shot up, “You haven’t read it yet, have you?” 

“Of course not. I told you I have had a hectic day—lots of meetings…and physical… combat training. I am ravenous. I will look it over once I have eaten, I promise.”

“It’s important.”  Thor gave him a serious look.

“Of course. You have my word.”

“I will meet with you here before breakfast then. Rest well, Brother.”  Thor left Loki at the double doors to his apartment.

Loki called for his chambermaid as soon as he entered his sitting room.

“Your Highness,” the maid called Sera responded with a deep curtesy.

“Draw my bath and lay out my robe. Send for my dinner, something hearty, and have it set up by the fire when I get out of the tub.”

“Right away, My Prince.”  She hurried off to the bathroom that lay just beyond Loki’s bedroom.

He removed the message from his mother, still sealed with wax in its parchment envelope. He thought about opening it now but recalling his brother’s face when he asked about it; he decided to wait until he was fed and comfortable. He left it on his desk and sunk into his chair. The activities of the day played on repeat in his mind.

“Your bath is ready, Your Highness.”

Loki headed to the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

“Make sure those are cleaned and pressed,” he ordered unnecessarily as the chambermaid followed behind him, gathering the laundry as she went.

“Yes, My Prince.”

Loki sunk into the deep bathtub, submerging himself to wet his hair. Sera pulled a basket and a stool out of a nearby cabinet and settled down next to the tub. She selected the shampoo from the basket and began washing his hair. She used her nails to massage his scalp just the way he liked.

“Divine,” he whispered.

“Head back, please.” 

He obliged as she rinsed his hair with a large pitcher filled with warm water and lavender essence. She gently wrung out the water from his shoulder-length tresses when all the suds were gone. Next, she took her time massaging the lavender conditioning oils into his scalp with the pads of her fingers.

She loved hearing the little sounds of pleasure the prince made while she was caring for him. It made her so proud of the job she did. She would do, and has done, anything the prince desired. She combed all the knots from his hair, loving how it felt like black silk under her fingers.

“May I join you in the bath tonight, Your Highness? I could scrub your back like last time.” She kept her voice low and quiet behind him.

“As wonderful as that sounds, I am afraid I will have to pass tonight.”  As if on cue, Loki’s stomach growled loudly. “I will finish washing. You go and check on my dinner.”

“Yes, My Prince.” She sounded disappointed as she placed a stack of clean towels on the stool she just vacated. “You must be starving. I will make haste.”

Loki finished his bath; exiting the tub, he wrapped a towel around his waist. He took another towel and started patting his top half dry.

Looking in the mirror, he admired his “battle scars.” Light blue and purple mouth-sized bruises at the base of his neck, chest, and abdomen, and fingernail scratches on his back and buttocks. He gave himself a broad smile in the mirror.

‘Not bad for a day’s work,’ he thought to himself. Fortunately, as a God imbued with the magic of the Æsir, he had accelerated healing; soon there would be no trace of his lusty activities.

In his bedroom, he found his favorite robe lying across his bed. He put it on over his naked body, tying the sash loosely around his waist.

His dinner awaited him as he entered the front room of his chambers. He settled in at the little table beside the fireplace and ate his fill, enjoying every morsel. Clean and with a full belly, Loki was enjoying the warmth of the fire, almost ready to fall asleep in his chair as Sera came over to clean up.

Loki perked up slightly as he took in the view of the curve of her bum as she leaned over the table to clear it. “Thank you for your service, sweetling. You are the finest chambermaid I have ever had.”  She followed his eyes as he ran his gaze traveled over her body.

She blushed as she stacked the dishes on the tray. “It is my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness.”  She carried the tray to the table by the chamber’s main entrance and quickly returned to the prince’s side. She stared at his bare chest peeking out from his loose robe, heat rising in her body. “May I…will you be requiring-” Loki’s mouth cut her off. He kissed her deeply, wrapped one hand around her waist, and raised the other to massage her breast as he stood up from his chair.

“You have already served me so well tonight. Take the rest of the night off. I have work to do.”  She looked stricken as he stepped away from her toward his desk. “And tomorrow morning as well. I think I still remember how to dress myself.”  He picked up the message from his mother and eyed it warily.

“If you please, it would be my pleasure, My Prince.” She moved to his side again.

“Oh, of that, I am sure,” Loki said, chuckling, laying the envelope back on the desk. “I cannot have you getting too attached to me, sweetling. I will ruin you for all other men.”

Feeling emboldened, she untied the sash holding Loki’s robe closed. Her eyes drank in his beautiful, naked body. Her heart raced, and her skin felt like fire. She ran her hands down his chest, looking up at his ocean-blue eyes.

“Please?” she asked meekly.

“Mmmm….” He kissed her gently. “So bold.” He took her face into both of his hands. “I do have work to do.” He kissed her again. “But you do taste so sweet.” 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her body to his. “I have an early meeting with my brother, pet.” He gave her a deep kiss, pulling her hair ribbon, letting her hair fall from the knot on the top of her head like a chestnut waterfall down to her waist.

“He will be very cross with me if I am ill-prepared,” he kissed her again. He was untying her apron behind her back. “You should go sleep in your quarters tonight. I need my rest.”  She pouted, her bottom lip jutting out, and looked up at Loki with mock sad eyes. He laughed and kissed her bottom lip before nipping it with his teeth.

“Let me warm your bed tonight, My Prince, and in the morning, I will wake you for your early meeting.” She raised her tiptoes so that her mouth was close to Loki’s ear, “I will wake you with my mouth. If it would please my Prince.” She ran her hand over his hip and cradled his length in her palm.

With that, the last bit of Loki’s resolve faltered. The message from his mother was all but forgotten as he lifted Sera from the floor, wrapping her legs around his waist. He carried her to his bedroom and threw her down on the bed.

Despite already having had copious amounts of sex that day, Loki obliged the chambermaid for hours more until she was happy and sated. She was amorous and eager, and he was delighted to please her. He was exhausted by the time she finally drifted off to sleep.

It was well after midnight when he slipped from the bed, pulling on his robe; he tried to make as little noise as possible as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

As much as he wanted to stay tangled up with the naked sleeping woman in his warm bed, he finally needed to read that message from his mother. He promised Thor, and Loki always kept his promises to his brother.

He carried the envelope to one of the large leather armchairs near the fireplace. With a wave of his hand, the fire roared back to life. Sinking in and getting comfortable, Loki took a deep breath and broke the wax seal. His eyes glided quickly over the paper covered in his mother’s elegant handwriting.

As he read, several emotions crossed his beautiful face: amusement, concern, horror, and finally, disbelief. He shook his head.

‘How? How could they do this to me? Mother knows my feelings. How could she think this is a good idea?’  As exhausted as he was a few minutes earlier, he made no move to return to his bed and the young beauty it held. Instead, he sat and stared into the fire, silently reeling from the news he had just received.

            ‘My dearest boys, your father and I continue our diplomatic tour of Asgard, hearing from the people and meeting with the Lords and Ladies of the realm.

We recently spent several weeks in the North. It is sparsely populated but extraordinarily rich in resources. Your father and I toured an emerald mine, visited the home of a local cattle farmer, and spent quite a bit of time with the Warden of the North, Lord Anderson and his family.

Which brings me to the main purpose of this letter. Your father was quite taken with their family’s story. Lord and Lady Anderson lost both of their sons and only male heirs in the battle of Svolder, leaving the sizeable demesne without an heir.

Your father, our King, has agreed to the betrothal of their daughter, Sigyn, to you, my sweet prince Loki. The betrothal contract has been signed and witnessed. You will inherit Smaragdberg on your wife’s behalf when Lord Anderson passes on to Valhalla. Until then, you and your bride will live at the palace and be tutored in Feudalism.

Your father wanted to wait to tell you when we returned, but I wanted you boys to hear it from me first. This is quite the announcement to have sprung on you in a letter. I am sorry to break the news to you in this way. Please forgive me.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger

Let me know if you would like to be added or removed from the tag list. Thanks!

XOXO- Rayne 💚

[fandom-imagines-stories]

All For One

Musketeers Comfort Imagine

Words: 3525

Summary: In preparing for her trials to become a Musketeer, the reader’s anxiety begins to get the better of her. Luckily, she has the four best friends anyone could ask for. 

Notes: Another comfort imagine dealing with anxiety and burnout because *mental illness* I needed this haha. Thank you end of the semester struggles. Like my Pogues imagine, this doesn’t have any specific ships, but since Aramis and D’Artagnan are my favorites, I may or may not show a little bias. I also really wanted to capture the feeling of them riding off together at the end of the season because that’s one of my favorite parts of the show, so hopefully that came across. 

Find more Musketeers: HERE

-

They all knew something was off. Though it was early and most were still half asleep, exhausted by the night before’s activities, they saw with enough clarity to know that you were not yourself. 

You ate your breakfast swiftly- though, poking at your bread could hardly be considered eating- and in silence. You hardly responded to Aramis’s daily teasing, something that had become like a ritual for the two of you, or to Porthos’s suggestion of close combat training later in the day. Worst of all, your eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, though you kept them downcast to try and hide them. 

Once you’d hurried off, the four men at the table exchanged worried looks. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Porthos asked. 

“Nerves maybe,” D’Artagnan observed. “She’s going before Treville next week. I know I was terrified when it was my turn to prove myself.” 

“And especially difficult for her,” Aramis added. He gazed after you and shook his head. “But there’s something else. I don’t think it’s just nerves.” The way you’d looked at him just moments before, with eyes both pleading and yet… empty. It worried him. “We should do something.” 

“I don’t think that would be wise,” Athos said. He stood from the table and put on his hat. “We should let her come to us. If we try to force her, well-” he blew out a breath. “We all know how that’s gone in the past.” 

The other three nodded mournfully. 

It was odd. You were one of the more open of the group, but all of them could agree, when something was truly and deeply wrong, you always tried to keep it to yourself, though none could understand why. 

“We can’t just leave her like that,” D’Artagnan said. “There must be something we can do.”

“Just be patient,” Athos nodded. “She knows we’re here for her.” 

Does she? Aramis couldn’t help but think. While they’d made it clear that you were a part of their group and they all cared for you very deeply, he’d picked up hints that you didn’t quite believe it. Whether or not this was just your mind playing tricks on you, he was determined to show it to you. He turned to the others and a wordless understanding passed between them. They nodded, all feeling the same as he did. 

They’d make sure you knew you were one of them, even if they spent all day proving it. 

-

You started the day with close combat, asking Porthos to help as usual, since he was the very best. You hoped the physicalness of the exercise would help wake up your tired senses and give your on-edge body something to fight. Your limbs pleaded for a distraction from their tension while your head desperately tried to focus. 

How could you be so exhausted and so unstable at the same time? 

“You sure you’re ready?” Porthos asked. When he’d agreed to train, he hadn’t noticed just how tense you were. You paced in front of him like a street cat afraid of its own shadow. While he never used the full of his strength when sparring with you, he feared more than usual he might hurt you if this were to go on. 

“I’m always ready,” you said with a little more venom than you’d intended. He narrowed his eyes and you ignored the concern you could see in his gaze. “I don’t have all day, let us begin.” You ran at him before he could object. 

Porthos braced for your first hit- a punch toward his shoulder and counter-attacked with a swing at your legs. You jumped and kicked his knee while propelling yourself upward for another hit to his chest, launching away from the impact. You both fell back into the dirt but were on your feet in seconds. 

Porthos raised a brow. “Alright, love. That’s how we’re playing it.” 

You took a deep breath and went again. 

The fight was fiercer than you’d ever done before. Porthos seemed to struggle to keep up with you. He may have his strength, but your agility proved vital. At one point, you were able to climb onto his back, arm around his neck. Your body locked up and all you could focus on was the pounding of adrenaline in your head. 

“Y/N!” Athos shouted. 

The other three rushed over to the two of you and you suddenly realized that Porthos had hit his knees and was smacking at your legs to let him go. You gasped and jumped off of him. 

“Porthos, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t even realize- are you hurt?” You stammered. 

He coughed, breathing in with deep, hurried breaths to take in as much air as he could. Aramis knelt in front of him, dark eyes flicking over to you with more questions than you gave him time to ask. 

You brushed off and tried to hide the rising panic in your voice as it squeezed at your chest. “Guess I got carried away, huh?” 

“Only a little,” Porthos wheezed. 

You feigned a smile, turning to Athos. “I’ll go easier on you later, I promise.” It was meant to be a jest, but neither of you laughed. 

With your body locking up again, you got away before any of them could see the weakness threatening to overtake you. Once out of view, your fist flew, striking the wall and scraping your knuckles. 

“I wouldn’t give her a weapon,” Porthos shuddered as Aramis helped him to his feet. 

“She doesn’t seem like she’s going to take no for an answer,” Athos said. 

Aramis sighed. “This is worse than I thought.” 

“I’ll say,” Porthos grunted. 

“She needs to get out of here.” D’Artagnan stared after you with a pained expression. “All of this practice is getting to her. She’s pushed herself too far.” He swung his sword in front of him in frustration. “But how do we get her to take a break? She’s far too stubborn and worried about Treville.”

The four of them pondered this problem for a moment, eventually hearing you start up again, practicing with your sword with barely a minute’s rest. 

“I’ll talk to her,” Aramis sighed. “The three of you come up with something.” 

“And how do you propose we do that?” Athos asked. 

Aramis shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

-

You loaded the musket with relative ease, but he could see how your hands were shaking. Of all of the skills you had to master before facing Treville’s scrutiny, your marksmanship was by far your weakest, despite Aramis assuring you otherwise. Why else would he have suggested you practice it now, rather than after your duel with D’Artagnan and Athos? He didn’t believe you were good enough, you could feel it. 

“Take a deep breath and relax your body just like I showed you,” he instructed. 

“I know, I know,” you said. 

Aramis stood behind you as you aimed at an empty wine bottle at the other end of the field. He wasn’t used to you being so closed off to him. In truth, he’d brought you out here with the hope of helping you clear your head, but he seemed to only have made it worse. At least this way, you weren’t directly aiming a weapon at anyone. Given what happened with you and Porthos, he doubted giving you a sword would end well for anyone. 

“Alright, ready?” He stepped just enough into your line of vision. 

You ignored him and took the shot. 

The bottle remained standing, mocking you from afar. 

“Damn,” you muttered, already loading the musket again before he could say anything. 

“Y/N, perhaps-”

“I can get it.” You took aim and fired. A tree trunk several yards from the bottle splintered from the impact. A frustrated growl tore through your chest. What was wrong with you? 

You forcefully set the musket back down, readying to load it for another try. Aramis’s hand covered yours before you could. 

“Y/N, wait,” he said softly. “I think I know what’s happening.” 

“What’s happening is that I’m not ready,” you snapped, more at yourself than at him. “And I only have a few more days to get it right or else I’ll never be a musketeer and all of this would be for nothing and-” Your words caught in your throat even before he held up a hand to stop you. 

Aramis laid his hand on your cheek. 

“You’ve worked yourself to the bone for weeks, darling.” He gave you a small smile. “You’re so exhausted you can hardly see straight. Am I correct?” 

There was still a part of you that wanted to fight him. To deny everything he’d said. Tired meant weakness and you couldn’t bear it if any of them saw you that way. But with his dark, caring eyes looking into yours, there was nothing you could say. 

You bit your lip to keep it from trembling. 

He pulled you into his arms. 

“There,” he sighed, running a soothing hand up and down your spine. “It’s alright. You’re just working too hard, that’s all. It’s alright.” He pulled back, kissed your forehead, and looked down at you. “Better?” 

You shrugged, wiping away tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Maybe you’re right.” 

He smirked. “I’m always right, darling.” 

With an arm slung around your shoulders, he led you back to the courtyard of the garrison where your other three friends stood next to their horses. Aramis and your horses had been saddled and awaited their riders. 

“What’s this?” You asked, Aramis handing your musket off to one of the stableboys to put away. 

“You are leaving,” D’Artagnan grinned. “Well, all of us are leaving, of course. We’ve all decided that we could all use a break from Paris. You, especially, Y/N.” 

“I can’t leave,” you scoffed. “There’s so much to do still! I need to stay and practice and…” You trailed off, as Aramis gave your hand a gentle tug toward the others. 

“Paris will still be here tomorrow,” Athos said. He watched you with a raised brow. “As will Treville and all of your training. One of the things you need to learn about being a soldier is knowing your limits, Y/N. You cannot help anyone if you can no longer help yourself. Besides-” He held up a bulging saddlebag which clinked as it moved. “I already bought the wine.” 

“I for one think it’s a magnificent idea,” Aramis beamed. “I’m jealous I hadn’t thought of it before. We could all use a day away, don’t you think, Y/N?” 

You took a deep breath. There was so much left to be done. You still needed to perfect your marksmanship, ready your fencing strategy, and work on hand-to-hand without strangling your sparring partner this time. The pressure of it all lingered in your chest as you gazed at the four wonderful men who’d helped you this far. 

But they were right. How could you possibly hope to achieve your goals if you overworked your body to the point of disaster? 

“Alright, I’ll go.” 

All four erupted in cheers. Porthos even lifted you up, tossed you over his shoulder, and spun around, eliciting a squealing laugh from your lips. When he set you down again, he kissed your cheek and gave you the biggest smile you’d ever seen. 

“It’s been far too long since I’ve heard that sound,” he said. 

The others all grinned in agreement and your group of five mounted your horses. You looked back at the garrison as the city passed by and spotted the field where you'd been practicing with the musket. The mocking bottle remained in its spot, untouched. 

Aramis followed your gaze and chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it,” he nodded. “Just not today.” Aramis reached over and put a hand on your shoulder. “And that’s perfectly fine.”

You nodded in return and urged your horse forward, away from Paris and your responsibilities and your anxieties. You let them fall away with the pounding of hooves against the road and the laughter of your friends in the air. 

-

The sweet summer air filled your lungs, banishing the lingering scent of the city. Wildflowers lined the path, the soft earth shifting under your feet as you leaned down into a starting position. 

“I thought the whole point of this was to get away from training,” D’Artagnan teased, taking the same stance beside you. Aramis stood in between, arms raised for the signal. 

“Ready?” He glanced excitedly at both of you. “Set.”

“This isn’t training, D’Artagnan,” you laughed. “This is fun!” 

“Go!” 

You flew down the path, your legs sprinting as fast as they could carry you while D’Artagnan raced next to you. He started in the lead, but as you neared the tree at the end of the lane- your predetermined finish line- you began to gain on him. Your hair whipped around your face but you kept your eyes open and focused on that tree. 

The three cheered both of you on, all favoring you for the victory. Their hollering only increased when you finally surpassed your opponent, keeping just a step ahead of him all the way to the end. 

When you turned to gloat in your victory, however, you failed to see one of the tree’s roots stretched out in front of you. Your foot caught and, in your attempt to save yourself, your hand latched onto your competitor’s arm and dragged him down with you. 

D’Artagnan tumbled, the two of you rolling down the small hill behind the tree. Grass and flower petals broke your fall and burst up into the air as you landed with you on top and D’Artagnan sprawled out beneath you, both of your cackling filling the air.

“I’m-” You snorted. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Your words were hardly understandable between your snickers. 

“I’m fine, are you?” His heaving laughs lifted your head which laid on his chest. You peered up at him, taking in his sparkling eyes and bright smile. You couldn’t help but feel all of your worries from before fade away. 

After a moment, the other three appeared over you, looking down and shaking their heads. 

“I would say Y/N is the winner, but seeing as she’s also the one that caused this unfortunate spell…” Porthos started. He helped you up with a smirk and you playfully punched his arm. 

“I agree with Porthos,” D’Artagnan said, brushing himself off. 

“Clumsy or not, I’m still faster,” you fired back. 

“Perhaps a rematch is in order.” 

“You should know by now, D’Artagnan.” You stepped toward him so that you were only inches apart. “I never back down from a challenge.” 

Aramis put a hand in between you two. “Alright, I think that’s quite enough competition for the day.” His deep laugh brought more warmth to your chest. “We should make camp soon anyway before the sun sets.” 

You pointed a finger at the youngest musketeer and smirked. “This isn’t over.” 

He bowed dramatically. “I look forward to it.” D’Artagnan hurried ahead to start the fire, his laughter still ringing through the air, and you strolled alongside the other three. 

Aramis removed a leaf from your hair and tucked the strand behind your ear. He held up a hand to his ear. 

“Listen,” he said. “Do you hear that?” 

“I hear nothing,” you shrugged. 

“Exactly.” He breathed in deeply with a content smile. “Isn’t it wonderful?” 

You scoffed. “Aramis, I give us all two days before we’re begging to get back to the noise and excitement of Paris.” You poked a finger at his chest. “You especially.” 

He opened his mouth to argue but found that he couldn’t. Instead, he chuckled and held out his arm. 

“Fair enough. But it is a break well deserved nonetheless.” 

You beamed, taking his arm. “That it is.” 

You all sat around the fire, eating rabbit that Aramis had shot earlier and Porthos roasted over the flames with a bottle of wine for each of you. D’Artagnan and Aramis sat across from you while you and Porthos spent dinner discussing your technique in sparring earlier in the day. 

“I am sorry again,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “I hope I didn’t injure you too badly.”

“Just his pride!” Aramis chimed from across the fire. 

Porthos tossed a pebble at his head. 

This, of course, prompted a small battle between the three of them, picking up various projectiles from the forest floor and trying to hit each other. In the midst of their antics, you saw Athos from his place leaning against a far tree. He motioned for you to follow him. 

Having always been a little frightened of the leader of the group, you gulped, believing to be in some kind of trouble with him. Athos’s intensity was known throughout the musketeers, along with his skill with a sword and leadership. 

He led you in a perimeter around the small camp you’d made without saying anything at first, which of course only increased your returning anxiety. 

“I know you believe that you don’t belong here,” he finally said. His words were so blunt, you didn’t know how to respond and he continued. “I wanted to tell you that you have nothing to worry about, which I know isn’t very helpful given how you’re feeling.” 

“Unfortunately, it isn’t,” you sighed. “Though I appreciate your encouragement.”

“It isn’t merely encouragement, Y/N.” He stopped walking to look at you with that same intensity. “I believe it. I’ve never seen someone work with as much passion as you do. With as much tenacity and willingness to learn. Half of the men in the musketeers think they already know everything about the world, but you-” An impressed laugh made his blue eyes shine. “You have done more to learn and to improve than anyone I’ve ever seen. It’s no wonder you’ve exhausted yourself so much. It’s remarkable it hasn’t happened sooner.” 

You opened your mouth to rebuke his claims, to deny your skills and deprecate the work you’d done, but he put a hand on your shoulder that silenced you. 

“I would be honored to serve alongside you.” 

“Athos I-” You blinked back tears. “I don’t know what to say.” 

“Just promise me you won’t end our practices the way you ended with Porthos and I’ll be content with that,” he teased. “Let’s get back before they cause any trouble, hm?” 

As the two of you returned to the group, you felt so overwhelmed by the feelings stirring in your chest. But this wasn’t from anxiety or overworking yourself. You were just so grateful, gazing over the crowd of your four closest friends, that you couldn’t contain it. It spilled out onto your cheeks with joyous tears. 

Aramis noticed you first and his face immediately morphed with concern. 

“What have you done, Athos?” He leaped to his feet, soon joined by the other three as they scrambled to your side. “What’s the matter, Y/N, my dear?” 

“Nothing,” you laughed through your crying. “Athos has been nothing but kind, I promise. I just…” You took a deep breath. In one hand, you took Aramis’s, intertwining your fingers, and with your other, you took Athos’s. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.” 

“You would do the same for any of us,” D’Artagnan said. “It’s the least we can do after all of the work you’ve put in.”

“Work that has not been ignored by Treville,” Athos added. “I believe he admires you even more than we do.” 

“If that’s even possible,” Aramis said with a wink. 

“Well, I can’t thank you all enough for taking care of me like this.”

Aramis glanced around the others with a mischievous twitch of his mustache. 

“All for one,” he said, twirling you around so that you landed in Porthos’s arms. 

“And one for all,” Porthos finished, lowering you into a dip. 

“You are all imbeciles. Now let me go,” you squealed merrily as they spun you around again. By the time you’d danced with all four of them, you were all dizzy enough that you collapsed beside each other in a heap of laughter.

My musketeers. You couldn’t help but think with your head on Aramis’s shoulder and your legs stretched out over D’Artagnan’s. You remembered why you were so adamant to join the regiment in the first place. To be one of them. You knew now that, no matter what happened in the coming weeks, you always would be. 

The stars twinkled over your heads as the fire died down. You let out a sigh and felt content. 

“I love you all,” you whispered into the night. “Even if you are idiots.” 

Aramis chuckled beneath you. “And we you.” He kissed the top of your head. 

D’Artagnan poked at your calf. “Even if you are stubborn.” 

“Some of us are trying to sleep,” Porthos whined, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You settled again and heard Athos sit up. He placed his cloak over you as a blanket. 

“Rest well, Y/N.” 

And you did.

[fruit-salad-ship]

BNHA AU: Pro Heros.

Known as 'Royal Flush' when working as a team, this trio perfectly balance each other out, called into battle when all else fails. They take difficult jobs no one else wants, because they pay better, and prove theyre one of the best teams around.

Kingslayer (Peach) Quirk: Density A notorious ball of rage, her quirk was once thought to be an anti-gravity skill, but the older she got, the more stress and anger crept in, and it became obvious that she actually changes object density, not the way gravity works around it. If calm and collected,and happy, she can float items both living and not, making them less dense than the air around her target. This is great for rescue, stealth to float into guarded areas, and to drop her whole team into a location undetected. Unfortuntly shes prone to anger, bouts of irritability and lethargy, which makes her quirk increase density of things. She has learnt to use it offencivly, fighting the biggest heaviest villains with a solid defence to take the hits making herself slow and thick skinned, and boosting swings with increased weight and heft when in close combat. Her ult is a 15ft radius density field, making anything and anyone within this range so heavy they cannot get off the ground. This does however push her body hard too, and can backfire, leaving her vulnerable to attacks after.

Queen-B (Plum) Quirk: Melodrama She'll say it stands for something else, but her team mates like to reitterate that the 'B' stands for Brat. They arent wrong. Her quirk forces those she touches to experience specific emotions, only one at any given time, and up to five targets. These feelings can be used to subdue and distract foe, or rally her team. This is particulalry useful to politely ask villains to release hostages, making them smitten, calm, suggestive, and they could very well do what she says. Her ability to extract information is top notch, and she's able to keep civilians calm and safe with it, making sure theyre not in a state of panic during emergencies. Her ult is a overdrive, and can only be used on one target at any time, pushing them to fight for her in a blind rage, as if they would lay their life down for the little woman, and can last up to an hour unless she dismisses it. Quite devestating but the cool down is drastic, her quirk becoming all but useless for a short while after. To combat the lack of physical strength, Queen takes a lot of time to practice with rifles, whips, and various other weapons that give her range. She however alwasy has a bat on her person, as a way to protect herself, along with flash grenades, smke bombs and various little items that aid in missions. Shatter Jack (Grey) Quirk: China Bull His left arm is fragile, resembling porcelain, able to touch a target and pass on a brittle property to foes. His right arm is however very robust and strong, with the power of a raging bull packed in. The combination of both makes for devestating offensive power to even the hardest individuals, and most solid defences. The down side is his left arm is also incredibly vulnerable to attack, both a strength and a wekaness, and because of the distributions of skill between them, he is somewhat easy to predict when fighting alone, but has learnt to use misderection in his strategy to counter this somewhat. His disposition makes him calm and level when forming a plan, and so he is the natrual leader of the group, as the other two can get distracted or caught up in competition/rage. He has fair stamina, but no ranged attacks, so he chips bits of his porcelain off and sends it to be made into throwing knives. Because it is made of the same material he is, he can transfer his quirk through it, as far as he can throw. It is however not selective, and if he hits one of his own, they become vulnerable and brittle for a short while. The duration and spread depends on how long he touches someone. If he can keep his hand on a foes body for five straight seconds it can sink through a whole limb. A seconds can brittle a bone, or make skin shatterable. His ult turns a target fully brittle, whole body, but his own durability also drops, making him vulnerable.

In tandem the team is pretty well balanced. Plum can put peach into a full blown rage to increase her damage output, or when the stress is too much and she needs to be fast and evasive, calm her down to make floating things far easier and more effective. Grey shatters but if peach can touch his arm, she can grant him density, making it harder to break during a fight, and if he usues his ult, she can boost his defence to help combat the lack of it he has for a short while. Plum is vulnerable to attack, but she can make her dense enough for bullets to bounce off, or make herself dense and stand in the way of harm and not take nearly as much damage. When grey needs an emotional boost, plums there, the moral the group needs, because lord knows hes exhausted some days.

Grey and Peach went to school together, buddies for a long time, she was a year above him but they alwasy walked home together, and trained when possible, their quirks worked well together and eventually they got signed to the same agency. Peach's PR however was awful, and so they brought in Plum as a ways to wrangle her, and give the company a better image in the publics eye. with them balanced, there have been less issues, though the girls do fight, it never lasts long, and has become more loving over the years.

additions:

I need to do greys one. I will.

Black diamond motif, weakness to long range attacks, brutal.

[audoodle]

persona 5 party and how gay I think they are (also I get very distracted writing post canon ideas and write a lot about haru)

(also disclaimer I'm going to be describing anime girls as butch and femme I know that NONE of these characters are anywhere close to butch because the men who made this game don't know what that is. I'm talking pure head canons. I promise I'm not trying to convince you haru as she exists is butch)

joker - he's a he/him lesbian and if you don't see it I hope you get better.

ryuji - dude doesn't know what he is. people keep telling him he's bi and has had it explained many times but it doesn't add up in his brain.

morgana - your kitty hatred has blinded you from the fact that there's something gender in this cat. nobody knows not even him. nobody has really bothered to figure out.

ann - I could go one of two ways with ann. on one hand she's got like a real adult job and defined sense of style so I could see that just being how she carries herself for a long time but also she's like 17? I could easily see her having a breakdown and completely restyling herself into something more punk and alt because of how much of her image was built up by people not around her. oh she's a lesbian also but you knew that.

yusuke - the least gay. dude is like harry styles or that soccer mom that looks like a lesbian. he just dresses like that and is like "what??? no I don't like men how silly." maybe he'll like men later once he stops being absolutely weird to people and asking them to strip for him but right now he's the straight one to me. (am I a yusuke hater yes)

makoto - makoto is a lesbian and makoto is more femme than you think actually. like after she gives up on being a cop and decides to do literally anything else she relaxes and connects with a feminity she never got to fully explore. she can't really leave her old style behind fully and is probably ending up a he/she and just presents differently based on the day.

futaba - futaba is our most obvious contender for a trans woman lesbian as well as a character who's already trans before the events of the game but honestly imagining that I think that would mean she has the most awful 4chan brainworms about being trans and combined with her depression it she ends up with a lot of self loathing. it's a bad time and as makoto learns more about how she wants to present she realizes how insane futaba sounds (a fight breaks out when futaba calls makoto a theyfab).

or honestly? I can kind of see trans guy or cis ally lesbian futaba? like I could them being the absolute weird 4chan trans lesbian but I could also see her being the kind of girl who trans girls flock to because she's pretty and is also way too online. and then she's like mid 20s and is dating a trans girl she met off 2chan and being like "I used to say kek but if you call someone a passoid one more time I'm going to fucking destroy you."

haru - I said makoto was more femme than you think and maybe you saw this coming but haru is more butch than you think. similar to ann her entire aesthetic is built by what was expected of her and now that she's free of that she kind of accidentally falls into something more butch. I think an underrated aspect of haru's character is how much she enjoys violence.

like obviously we talk about sadist haru as a haha funny but I find something very compelling about the fact that haru has an intrinsic enjoyment of combat. other female characters like ann and makoto talk about feeling uncomfortable and scared in the metaverse while it seems to be a fantastic stress relief for haru. it's probably the most physical activity she's ever done. her satisfaction doesn't come from taking down a target (because you know. taking down her dad didn't go well and then after that she's in the endgame where it's really really do or die). it comes from the process of being in the metaverse and fighting shadows.

and she learns that working up a sweat, destroying things, and getting her heart racing are all things she learns are good for her mentally. after the events of the game when her outlet for that is gone she tries to find something more sustainable to do with her energy from fencing (a safe form of combat and competition), to weightlifting (so she build up more muscles now that she can't summon a persona), and finding something like axe throwing to do as a way to use an axe of some sort again.

I think her green thumb nature stops her form getting a lumberjack occupation so she doesn't get much excuse to use a full size axe and something more aggressive like boxing or MMA she doesn't actually have it in her to hurt someone else so intentionally like that. so she isn't fully back to where she was mentally when fighting shadows but its a routine that really works for her and allows her to relieve stress and gets her stronger so she can work on her gardening which gets more and more physically demanding as she expands her garden more and more.

I think one time the group meets up for the first time after a few months maybe a year and someone (probably ryuji) is like "damn haru you're like the most built of any of us now! right on man!" and haru is like "huh?" because she still sees herself as the way she had been set up to see herself for her teen years. she spends that night looking at old photos of herself and it finally hits her how much her freedom has changed her for the better. how when she was 17 she couldn't have imagined what she would be like now but now she can't imagine anything else.

I still think she dresses femme pretty often when she's going out to fancy parties for work or meeting up with friends. she hasn't given up anything from exporing this part of herself. she's just become a more well rounded (and far too busy) person.

oh uh where was I?

oh yeah she's bisexual. by the way.

akechi - oh this is a gay boy. he thinks joker is into him but joker thinks akechi is also a lesbian. like when akechi kills joker in the interrogation room he's like "so sad to kill the only gay guy I know my age. if things were different..." and then in third semester joker is like "I heard the recording. I'm a lesbian are you not a lesbian???"

yoshizawa - dog I don't know what her deal is. honestly I think she's straight. she doesn't seem like she thinks about romance enough to have an opinion so she's probably comphet.

sophie - she likes girls but doesn't know why. (I could probably write a lot of thoughts about sophia being an AI and how she sees love but the post fell off the rails once and I haven't played strikers since it came out so)

zenkichi - dude is too sad about being a single dad to realize he's probably bisexual.

[cityandking]

1, 21, 40, D for Eniko and Minah

aw the rogues :') // uncommon questions

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

ENIKO — ages. hours and hours. all night if he has to. he's perfected his ability to hunker down somewhere and let time drip past. it took a lot of practice but it was part of his education and it (like most of his lessons) paid off MINAH — she gets a little fidgety, but she can zone out for a while when she needs to. she's been stuck backstage for a good chunk of a run, or staking out a house to burgle, or hiding from the guards, and left to marinate for a bit, and that's okay. I'd say a couple hours is when she starts getting all buzzy and anxious with nothing to distract her (she's pretty good at distracting herself tho)

21. Why do they get up in the morning? 

ENIKO — a clawing, desperate desire to make something more of his life than what he has right now. he can't stop. he just can't. MINAH — she gets itchy if she stops moving for too long. there's a constant fear nudging at the back of her head that says she has to get up, keep going, never let her guard down.

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

ENIKO — not particularly. unless they're impeding him from achieving his goals, he really doesn't care what flaws he may or may not be sporting. it's all about getting the work done, and as long as he can do that, nothing else matters. MINAH — pretty sensitive. she's keenly aware of them, if nothing else. but she's also put years of effort into ignoring and downplaying them, so, y'know. conceal don't feel etc.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

ENIKO — he's changed a lot over the years! originally he was very pale, with a really stark black-and-white color scheme (he's half moon elf). then I learned that the human population of the campaign's setting was mostly dark-skinned, so he got darker. his color scheme has also trended a little more towards grey/heather/purple over the years. he softened, pretty much. (still with the same fashion sense and the sharpness, though—that's always been the same) MINAH — I just looked at the Q&A I did for her pre-campaign and she was originally strawberry blonde and much taller, kind of a beanpole. obviously that didn't stick—I shortened her by a good six inches and changed her hair. I think I'd also like to go back and adjust her (non-warden) look/armor—I had a hard time trying to find the balance between thief, archer, close-quarters combatant and traveling performer, and I'd like to have another crack at it. her color scheme (sort of maroon/red/gold) has stayed the same, at least

[mod-bubamon]

I thought of a fun idea for those with mha ocs.

What if you rank your oc vs the class there in? I just did students with my ranking and id love to see how you rank your ocs!

With that being said,here's shubuya vs class 1a

I blame schaffrillas for my sudden urge to rank

Last place 21# minoru mineta.

Shubuya even at his most basic can very easily take down mineta. He's much more physically buff then him and has a huge advantage over minetas quirk. Even if mineta did manage to get Shubuyas stuck,it wouldn't matter cause Shubuya would easily stretch and hit his opponent while he's stuck,rip off the piece of clothing or even skin attached or straight up rip the ground out with the sticky ball still on only giving Shubuya more of an advantage with a new weapon. Mineta looses big time against Shubuya. Moving on.

#20 rikito sato.

Shubuya does match suger man even at his strongest. But even if sato was physically stronger,its seen that if he gets to much sugar to quickly he will get sick and slow down. Only giving shubuya the edge. Shubuya can very easily out maneuver him and hit him from a safe distance with his stretching capabilities.

#19 yuga aoyama.

He just barely makes it over sato for the reason that he has ranged attacks,which sato lacks. But...only by a small margin. Shubuya could take the hits and possibly redirect them. Plus with his weakness of his quirk causing him pain,shubuya could easily one shot him.

#18 koji koda.

Kojis quirk is already a big gamble as is,but when combined with fighting against someone who can fight him from much farther away,koda has a huge disadvantage. Not to mention,he doesn't seem to possess much fighting capability (from what I've seen in the anime so far) and he has to rely on animals for help.

All shubuya needs to do is either punch him in the throat or choke hold him and he can't use his quirk. He's higher then the others due to him not having a physical disadvantage to shubuya...mostly.

#17 mashirao ojiro.

He takes this place due to his karate capabilities, plus he doesn't seem to have many weaknesses next to no ranged attacks. That being said,he only has the tail while shubuya could duplicate his fists 10 fold. And with the same capabilities of Hardening kirishima has,ojiro would have to be pretty quick and lucky if he wanted to even hurt shubuya.

#16 toru hagakure

She makes it this far due too being hard to see...thats it. Its been unclear how strong she is compared to her fellow class mates but we usually don't see her fight,shes usually a distraction. She may be able to flashbang shubuya, but he could easily recover by making new eyes. Shoot he could even combat her invisibility by making his eyes see thermal signatures. She only ranks higher then ojiro due to invisibility being rather useful.

#15 Kyoka jiro.

She earned this spot for having good use of her earphone jacks. With her support gear she could possibly hold shubuya back...for a few seconds that is. Shubuya could easily either dodge or hold out the sound blast. She doesn't seem to have a fighting style,nor many physical strengths. So her fighting someone who can literally alter his physiology,the best she could do is hold him back for a few minutes at best.

#14 hanta sero

Sero is rather fast and he's the spider tape of the class,but unfortunately a web trap won't hold shubuya very well.

He has the same issue as mineta when he comes to his line of work being more of a capturer rather then a fighter. That being said, Hanta would make much better use of his tape compared to minetas purple orbs. Though he does lack the physical speed and strength shubuya posses.

#13 mezo shoji

Shoji and shubuya share a battle tactic due to there quirk similarities. They both can produce multiple fists and body parts. They both also have very similar body structures and height. That being said,shoji is much more limited the shubuya is due to his powers starting from his shoulders. Though he is very hard to sneak on shown im his face down with pony tsunotori.

When its all said and done,shubuya still holds the advantage against him with his spring attacks.

Now we're at some real challengers.

These next 12 characters will not go down as easy as others. These 12 will either give shubuya a run for his money,end the fight in a stale mate or even beat him. So let's get into it. Starting off with.

#12 denki Kaminari

Despite the weakness of short-circuiting if used too much,denki holds a surprisingly strong quirk that can combat against Shubuya rather well. The electricity can hinder his ability to stretch if he doesn't immediately turn to rubber. And even if he turned his arm to rubber,he'd still need to move as fast as lightning in order to avoid Dennis attacks. Though denki is physically weaker then shubuya and hes prone to go all out at once,giving shubuya the edge.

#11 tenya iida

Iida takes this place for his extreme speed and high armored suit,but he's this low due to him basically being a one trick pony. He only uses his legs in combat cause that's where his quirk is. Meaning shubuya could take advantage of this by trying to match his speed. With that said,he ranks higher then denki for being more strategic then charge bolt.

#10 ochaco uraraka

Unlike most of the other characters lower down the list,we've actually seen ochaco use martial arts and she's pretty strong physically. Though her quirk draw back is pretty noticeable, she's seen to have a pretty good handle on in. The only real issue is range. Shubuya has that advantage against ochaco and he's smart enough not to break stuff for her to throw at him. All and all,uravity would most likely loose. But she'd definitely put up a real fight.

#9 tsuyu asui

Tsu has the advantage with both her toxic Mucus and speed,plus less weakness then ochaco. Her fighting style is quite unique compared to ochacos. Plus her tounge is much like ojiros quirk as an extra strong limb. Exept it has no bone and much stronger. Shubuya would most likely win,but she would definitely be a real hard fight.

#8 mina asido

Mina while not as strong, definitely seems to the most physically strong out of the 1a girls. Her agility and flexibility surpasses the other girls. Her quirk is more dangerous for shubuya then asui's.

If he hits her,she burns him. Minas dance fight capabilities and acid man,pose a real challenge to shubuya. Shubuya does win,but he gets hurt doing so.

#7 eijiro kirishima

Maybe my bias towards kiri shot him quite high,but if anyone can take shubuyas attacks. It's the red riot. He has the same issues as most of the heros on this ranking,due to no ranged attacks. But he makes up for it in sheer defense and will.

Sure he doesn't win against Shubuya, but he definitely gives his all.

#6 azumi chō

Despite them being in love,shubuya and azumi will fight and fight hard.

Azumi takes 6th for being the fastest and having unique energy butterflys that assist her,from armor to weapons to ranged attacks. Shubuya may be stronger then azumi,but shes much faster then him.

Azumi and shubuya is our first tie off. Sometimes shubuya wins,sometimes azumi wins.

#5 momo yaoyorozu

Momo may not have azumis sheer speed,but her quirk and combat style are much like shubuyas. Unpredictable.

Both there quirks are rather similar with shubuya able to change anything on his body and momo being able to create anything from her body.

She also goes past azumi due to her smarts and the fact she literally uses weapons like spear and turrets and cannons. These 2 are tied off,momo being at a disadvantage of possibly using her quirk so much she gets physically weak.

#4 fumikage tokoyami

Dark shadow and shubuya also have similar properties.

They both are shape changers,making strategy's hard to use.

Dark shadow does have many advantages to shubuya however,while he can't harden or make weapons,he can change his shape much faster then shubuya can and he's capable of taking powerful hits.

And even if shubuya can exploit dark shadows weakness of light,he still has to get to tokoyami himself. And taking his eyes off dark shadow can lead to a quick defeat.

Shubuya could win,but he seldom does.

#3 katsuki bakugo

Katsuki and shubuya have had a big rivalry since they got into ua high. So its needless to say that they have definitely fought and they fight hard.

Shubuya has a better defense, but its lacking compared to Katsukis sheer firepower. They both equal in speed and reaction time. And with his gear,katsuki holds an even bigger advantage with his burst bullet.

Katsuki has beaten Shubuya many times and very few times has he won against king explosion dynamite.

#2 shoto todoroki

Shoto boasts more power then shubuya with very little weakness with said power. Not only does todoroki has 2 quirks,there both insanely powerful and basically grant todoroki arena control. Shots ice can slow down shubuyas shape shifting and his fire can severely hurt hurt shubuya. Shoto is seen to have incredible reaction time,and his ice walls are incredibly strong.

And thats not even the extent with his fire.

Shubuya looses most of the time,but is always ready to challenge him again.

1# izuku midoria

Even before he had all his multiple quirks,just with full cowling,shoot style and black whip izukus speed,agility, reaction time and tactical thinking out rank his brothers by a lot.

If shubuya fought him before full cowling, hed win.

If they fought when he unlocked black whip. Its a tie.

When izuku unlocks the rest of his powers.

Float,smokescreen,fa jin and danger sense (ill leave out the last one due to it not being in the anime)

Shubuya cant beat his brother.

And thats my ranking of shubuya vs class 1a. I had some fun with this and id love to see how your oc would fare against there respective class!

BTW Azumi Chō belongs to my bestie @my-faymelodyz :3

[doctorstrangereview]

Strange Tales #143

Cover Date: April 1966 On-Sale Date: January 11, 1966

So this is the conclusion of Doc vs. the Minions of Mordo. It's a like a little arc inside a big arc. This isn't quite a exciting as the last issue. Specifically, Doc doesn't do near the amount of punching as he did last issue. The mystical battles are improved, however. No firsts, but the yet-to-be-named Adria is an even bigger bitch! I get the impression she really doesn't like her teammates.

Doc is in a bind, both literally and physically. He is still bound in the magic kink gear that the terrible trio locked him in and still on the run from them. Fortunately he landed on a roof with a water tower on it. Doc has a brilliant idea! "I'll stash my body in this ice cold pool as ghost me goes adventuring with just my arm hooked to a metal bar as a safeguard from drowning!" Doc is former physician who was one of the world's greatest neurosurgeons. Surely he must see that this is a bad idea. But needs must, I guess.

Meanwhile, the Demon insults everyone who works form him as his corporate motivation method. Yes, calling the minions of minions creatures of little worth will really inspire them to do their best.

The Demon contacts Adria to update her. She seems to think of him what he thinks of his own underlings. At least she's being subtle about it!

Ghost Doc flies by the terrible trio's secret headquarters. He sees his cloak and uses it to overcome Kaecilius. Hey, this trick has worked in the past. Let's stick with the classics. Doc puts Kaecilius under his control much like he did to the Demon last issue.

Doc intends to have Kaecilius free his body from the kink gear. Uh oh! When he goes to check on his body slowly freezing to death in the water tower, it's not there! That's right. Adria has kidnapped it. She blathers about how Doc couldn't outwit a female as skilled in magic as she. Doc causes Kaecilius to use the cloak and fly into Adria's quarters, while Doc's ghost waits outside. Adria is incensed. It's a distraction and she grabs Doc's ghost in a spell.

She attempts to blackmail Doc to give up the secrets of the All-Purpose Amulet. Doc has one last trick up his ephemeral sleeve. He calls forth the eye from the amulet and entrances Adria. In yet another unlucky coincidence for Doc, the Demon stumbles into Adria's quarters and breaks Doc's spell. "Bloody hell! I almost had it!" laments Doc as he fears he may never escape the funky 1960s kink gear which surely don't meet the safety standards of 2020s kink gear. Adria is even smart enough to knock out Kaecilius so he can't be a threat to the other two. Doc uses his cloak and magic floating eye in an attempt to amplify his strength.

Finally, Doc manages to get his foes in the right position so they fire at each other.

The Demon is down and now it's a one on one fight. Adria appears to be the most competent member of the terrible trio. Has Doc gained anything? Yeah, he has. As Adria starts frothing at the mouth because she accidently knocked out her partner, Doc uses the cloak to entrap her hands and then completes the job of entrancing her. Adria frees Doc the kink gear and at last he can go home!

Doc non-consensually wipes the trio's minds of their magic knowledge. We know how well this has worked in the past. Doc is now free to search for Clea and perhaps confront Dormammu again.

This isn't as intense as the first installment. Doc isn't running from his foes, but rather he must find a way to escape them. There's a fair bit of suspense. Every time Doc seems to get the upper hand, his foes quash it. It happens enough to get a bit tiresome. It still speaks to Doc's intelligence that he's able to think of way after way to combat his foes. It's interesting that Lee and Ditko chose Adria as the leader and only truly capable member of the band. Especially when you consider how few women are even seen in a background role in the series. Fear not, the terrible trio will return eventually.

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

11 for Somati, Ferics, Calixtus and Borell?

I just realized that something tweaked in my brain and you only asked for eleven- What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Somati's is a crutch, they use crutchkind, specifically those forearm ergonomic crutches, eventually they start using this two headed snake crutch-staff that they do cool shit with, it becomes their signature weapon I think, at least for a while. They really really rarely actually use it, most of the time he uses visions distractions deals and other peaceful options to get around enemies. Ferics likes crossbows, thats their actual strife specibus, but they rely a lot lot more on their gadgets, theyre kind of like Jeff Earthbound actually, and yes, they kind of dominate their Land ngl. Once they Godtier they use crossbows a lot more. Its about the freedom of movement granted by flight, rather than the kind of constricted mobility of their arms in their kind of bulky chair. That and the fact that their chair means they can use a lot of gadgets more easily, like having a bunch of different stuff mounted. They still use it pretty often, but flying is pretty useful. Plus the time magic and or flight means they dont have to worry about stuff like not being able to dodge attacks, which almost all of their combat in their chair before they gained godhood is affected by. They don't necessarily *have* to be as tactical or planning as they did when they were fully chairbound, but they usually still are. Calixtus uses rods, or staves, you could also consider them either quarterstaves or maybe maces. Their first one was the centerpiece of their scale after it was broken by Calfuray. They don't use it much, they rely probably almost exclusively on negotiation or mind powers in their planet, and they don't really have Underlings in the same way as other worlds do. Borrel!!! Uses! A ball! Ballkind! She's never used it outside of performances probably, but she can serve some nasty dodgeball tactics and clown on you simultaneously. I also answered these becase im silly

What memory would your OC rather just forget? Somati! Seeing his dads decayed whalefal corpse temporally and spatially displaced onto his back lawn. Other than that... God so much.... So much Ferics! Several of their past cullers... their lusus' death. Calixtus! There was a really bad fight between their siblings once. Calixtus thought they were going to die. Calixtus really thought they were going to die. Borrel! I feel like there are a few things she already has just forgotten. Being a bronze in a carnival even on the significantly less murdery Beforus is not free of harassment. She used to work at a slaughter house, though. Those ones. Those ones show up in her daymares.

What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them? Somati! is kind of a... how do i put this nicely. Lets just say that he serves cunt in every timeline for a reason. His life is shit right now on Beforus, but he's. Gifted in the romantic field. That and the prophecy. You wouldn't expect him to be so on the ball just from how he looks and acts, but he does absolutely plan. Ferics! This depends on the viewers biases towards chairbound people, or even just chair users in general. I have known some people to seemingly think of those in motorized chairs as lazy or physically weak in an. irrationally morally charged way. Like that they have a weak will because they choose not to use an active wheelchair? If the viewer is biased like that, their pure level of stubbornness is probably very surprising. Calixtus! hmmm Well if they know cherubs, probably their love for their siblings. It is still cheruby, but its also desperate, and scared, and very much not the hate one comes to expect from them. If they don't know cherubs, probably how much they absolutely adore soft things and textures. This miserable skellington would cry if they were handed a bunny. Borrel! Probably the slaughterhouse thing. Either that or their genuinely very well meaning and respectful views on cullees.

What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw? Somati! I don't think fatal flaws appear in my characters very often. It's just not really how I write stories I think. If I had to pick one for a setting where Somati *isn't* actually like gifted with prophecy, it would be their resignation to fate probably.

[reflections-of-mobius]

It was a never-ending barrage of attacks from the team, versus an endless swarm of robots that spewed from the depths of the tower. Bless teeth and claws were having a harder time breaking the shells of the 'bots- but that didn't stop the werehog. The machines may have been incapable of emotion and unique thought, but he still wanted to destroy something. To vent his rage before it built any further, and these things were the perfect outlet.- So, he focused on destroying the metallic beings- using scraps torn from the bridge as his weapon of choice in obliterating the onslaught.

"Thanks!" The fox hadn't nodded or anything, and their gratitude sounded more annoyed than actually glad- but Node was angry at the machines. Thank stars Volt had their back- and they his, to the best of their current abilities. Node wasn't able to actually damage any of the robots, not without any of their combat-oriented equipment- but finding that they could distract the machines while Volt took them out was good enough for them. They took to being a nuisance with gusto, every now and again checking on those around them in the split-seconds between combatants.

There were minute glances to Volt and Harmony as the duo seemed to be doing something- but no more than that for a moment, as the others were occupied with keeping the dwindling robots at bay.

"What--?" Bless ripped his head away from the most recent hunk of metal- tearing a strip of silver and oil with him as he went. Emerald orbs locked onto the origin of the howl, having to close his eyes and look away as the flash of green energy filled the air.

BANG!!- For someone of Harmony's strength? The doors caved, blown inwards. Metal bent and twisted from the force of the impact- it was only thanks to the engineering that said doors didn't fall to the ground entirely from the onslaught... Though that may have also been because the doors were now horrifically deformed. The hinges creaked, groaning in resistance for a few moments as they, too, were warped. Inari's swarm of nanobots- those that had been aiding in the fight- began to surge towards the now-open threshold.

"Nice!!!" Inari cheered. The remaining robots were trying to attack with even more vigor. "--Let's get inside, before another round shows up!" Even as she started to soar for the open entrance, his eyes still landed on Harmony- a big thumbs-up offered. He'd heard from Bless and Node stories about Harmony's supposed strength- but she'd never seen it, herself.

A small beep and a flash on Inari's goggles indicated to him that she'd finally broken into the tower's schematics. The mainframe was behind way too many firewalls for a quick mission- so finding the physical location and hacking in from the source was the best option available.

"As good as I can be, mein Funke." They accepted Volt's offered hand, hazel eyes sliding from him to snap towards the now-destroyed door- and the 'bots Bless was holding off. "Y'better not've gotten shot, again.." They gently squeezed Volt's hand, taking in a breath. "Thanks for gettin' the door, Harmony!" Not a moment later, Bless' claws managed to find an entrance- and began to cut into the metal, ripping it apart as the robot glitched, its voice breaking and crackling.

They didn't want to let go- truly. Node kept hold of Volt's hand as long as the hybrid allowed, a quick brush of their cheek along his arm all they willingly offered. They had to get into the tower- get Inari into the system so she could figure out what was going on.

"We've got a minute!" Bless called as he landed. The last of the current wave of robots fell with him- crashing to the bridge. He was already starting for the busted-open doors, a laugh on his lips. "Thanks, Harms!" He was looking forward to this...

"...maybe cuddles, when this's all over..." Node mumbled near-silently to themself, even as they stepped up to the main entrance. A short hallway was what greeted the team- the ground scratched, the walls pulsing with light. Beyond that...the main floor of the tower awaited.

"....after we punch a bitch..."

The faintest sound of thrumming engines was impossible to make out, over the loud hum of machines, the pouring of sizzling metal and the sound of bolts being tightened.

It seemed that they were all on the same page. There would be no mercy given to the robots protecting the facility from the five of them. Harmony had wasted very little time in charging straight ahead and launching on the nearest ball-shaped enemy. The only thing that came from it being slightly tougher than the ones she faced before was that it was that much easier to grab by the paneling and throw into another nearby.

The teen’s anger flared but she maintained control of her emotions enough that she could focus on the task at hand. Keep the bots occupied or outright disable them so Inari can do their work without interruption. Emerald eyes occasionally glanced where her father was and made sure he wasn’t in any more trouble.

A bit of relief to find that Node was nearby and watching his back. And vice versa as Volt cleaved a robot clear in half that had given chase after Node’s attack on it.

His eyes flashed dangerously, snapping in the direction of the sound before he followed suit behind his partner. Not a single bot was going to survive the encounter. All Node needed to do was get their attention for a moment and Volt would come around to take care of the rest.

So far, he’d kept his electricity to a minimum. In hopes of not interfering with Inari’s hacking and whistled. A long, high tone that snapped Harmony’s attention to him.

Emerald met Violet and the teen nodded. If they needed that door down, she had the strength to do it, but she’d need to get over that horde. She gave quick thanks to Bless for the save and dashed towards her father at a speed that left a faint afterimage. As she approached, he shifted his footing and intertwined his hands. At the last second, Harmony stood up and jumped forward, turning so her foot would meet with her father’s hands and push off as he pushed her forward.

The built momentum launched her high into the air and towards the doors. Her echoing howl came with a bright flash of green energy from Chip’s Bracelet and every ounce of strength went into taking the massive doors right off their hinges.

Once Volt steadied himself from the pushback, he reached out with a hand towards Node while his eyes went to where Bless was on the battlefield. “You good love?”

[charmixpower]

What about the Winx girls getting hurt in front of the guys during a fight?

I'm assuming the injury is really bad, bc they've definitely seen eachother injured on screen lol

Sky is internally screaming, probably extremally screaming. He's over protective AF of Bloom so his reaction is pretty, very, extreme. Remember his single minded rage when he was mind controlled in s3? That's just how he is when he's in over protective mode (which Diaspro forced him into), he's officially a man on a mission to protect Bloom. Fuck ANYTHING that tries to stop him. Somehow manages to get things done via pure force of will and making shit up on the fly. The guys are all like "Ohhhh THIS is why he's a top student, I understand now" while Sky is just 90% spite now

Brandon is um panicking. Brandon prides himself on being able to roll with punches, bc lord know he wouldn't of been able to keep with the Eraklyon Royal family if he wasn't able to but this breaks most of his carefully designed composure. There's is a lot of freaking the fuck out and trying to get Stella to safety because this wasn't supposed to happen he wasn't prepared for this. It's even worse bc Stella has the most combat experience/skill so she's one of the least likely to be gravely injured. Freaking tf out

Timmy is so freaked the fuck out. Apparently according to s1 Timmy?? Isn't Strong enough?? To pick Tecna up?? He just kinda covers her with his on body and can't do anything?? (Feel my rage at the writers) Anyways I think he'd take over Tecna's role as a tactician long enough for everyone to save and heal Tecna and she can take it back over. It's a very functional reaction, still freaked out tho

If Musa got hurt in front of Riven while their dating that just means it was physically impossible for him to jump in front of her...or he was restrained from doing so because he would die (no magic protecting him) and she wouldn't (really powerful fairy). He's so fucking pissed at himself it isn't even funny. Musa was right there!! And he couldn't do shit!!! Practically inconsolable. This is the fun space when he gets to angry that it becomes sadness again. Depression rears its ugly head and he he goes between really angry at himself and moping around

Helia has forgotten everyone else exists, his only thought is protecting Flora. Helia is protective as FUCK (ex. Helia growling Valtor's name when he appeared, like Helia was gonna throw down with the man that killed a planet). Helia is very skilled so he would absolutely be able to remove Flora easily, uncaring or really anything else. However after Flora is safe he really doesn't know what to do with himself? He had the most medical training out of the guys so he'll try to help Flora but he's kinda just floundering

Mirta is now using her magic to distract whatever hurt Flora so she can save Flora. Does she have a plan? Fuck no. She's functioning off of pure emotion, not thoughts head empty. Once she saves Flora she starts trying to murder the thing that did that to Flora lmao

Nabu has already teleported to Aisha and started healing her. He has the situation mostly under control. Now isn't the time to freak out. He has both the power and the skill to help Aisha and help prevent more injures. He can freak out later

[aloev3rathings]

im thinking of random toh headcanons ive got floating around in my head:

1. i feel like this is pretty much fanon all across the board for the most part, but luz “weak nerd arms” noceda grew more physically active post-boiling isles but the difference isn’t really noticed until she’s in the human realm again and oh hey! that nerd from gym class? luz has got endurance in spades; she’s a regular at free running now. and she’s gotten an offer from the cheer squad to join once she returns but she turns them down. she and hunter go running in the park on the weekends bc luz is now a flexible speed demon and hunter’s kind of glad she can keep up with him.

2. hunter definitely gets into gaming. not just board games but mmorpgs and turn based games and all sorts. does he get into CoD? yes and no, bc on one hand, battling it out with a team with no lethalness involved helps burn out a lot of his anxiety that springs him into fight mode, but he can’t do mics bc his team mates are annoying and rude and will not take the match seriously like he does. he likes leisurely decision based games, like nitw and oxenfree, bc one, exploration and two, lore. the boy loves mysteries so he gets super into video game lore, im talking YouTube essays talking about themes and Easter eggs and pop culture.

3. willow tends to keep her insecurities close to her chest. she likes being the voice of reason and dependable for her friends bc she’s no longer considered useless “half-a-witch” willow, but she’ll avoid talking about her own emotions if she can. she’d rather put her energy towards something more constructive like her gardening and working out, and while her friends do their best to make sure she’s included in any and all bonding activities, willow will internalize. she will speak with Gus about it on occasion, and she feels only a little bit distant from Luz now since she and Amity are dating and she’s understanding, so inevitably she reveals bits and pieces with hunter. as a result, they spar whenever she has to deal with bouts of frustration. it’s shameless how they flirt.

4. since the day of unity and upon their inevitable return to the boiling isles, Gus wants to use his illusion talents in a more self-defensive manner? generally it’s used more for distraction and evasion, but when he starts working out with willow and hunter, combined with input from amity whose magic is mainly combat based, he becomes more flexible with how he uses his illusions.

5. on top of combat, Gus spends his time building his knowledge of the human realm, which goes without saying, but he partners with Eda on selling her human realm products now that they know what things actually are and what they’re used for. human realm technology becomes pretty popular in the demon realm bc of Gus.

6. amity and her father finally get closer. it’s really slow-going, but with her mother out of the picture they’ve gotten a chance to experiment with abominations with honest-to-titan creativity, and not just creating abominations for combat. as a result, they start trying to use abomination clay for more practical every day applications like construction and travel, but also abominations to explore areas of the isles that are too dangerous for normal witches to access.

7. Gus and Matt still help protect the looking glass ruins, and they’ve grown closer in their friendship. Gus is still leagues beyond Matt in terms of illusion magic, but Matt inspires creativity in mischief, so they become a prank trickster duo that rivals the Blight twins. and since Gus loves to express himself creatively, they end up reinvigorating Hexside’s long dead theater program. they are the most beloved theater kids in the entire school.

8. hunter and willow dance around each other for a good year and a half after the day of unity. their friends have a betting pool going on. Hunter fell first, but Willow spent a good while trying to figure out exactly why she’s so attached to this boy. when it finally hits her she adamantly refuses to talk about it, and they are the friends everyone thinks is already dating. Luz is in agony. Amity is amused. Gus is amused. all parties involved in the bet are just eating popcorn.

9. and I only just realized this like a week ago when I was rewatching the first season with my friend, and it’s not really a headcanon but more of an interpretation I guess BUT. but of course, magic is a gift from the isles, which is the Titan. and who was with Luz when she first discovered the light glyph? King. Luz was chosen not because she was destined; she was chosen bc she wanted to love and protect her friends and family. King chose her, didn’t even realize it, because of who she is as a person. because she loves him and he loves her and this realization MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL TO THINK ABOUT. THE POWER OF CHOSEN/FOUND FAMILY IDC IF THIS DOESNT MAKE PERFECT SENSE IT DOES IN MY HEART.