#this is not a hide-and-seek shrine

[todayintokyo]

Taishidō Hachiman Jinja in Setagaya has several rabbits on its premises. The shrine is tranquil thanks to its trees, but also irresistibly cute. Evidence supplied above, including the rabbits Chamu and Bubu.

[theres-a-body-here]

Love Letter Aftermath

First part

The realization of receiving a love admission sinks in for the killers

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

He's angry

Angry at you for giving him that damn letter

And angry at himself for keeping it

He keeps it on his shrine

Even while he tries to distract himself with training between trials, your letter is all that's on his mind

At least once a day, for a couple of minutes, he stares at the letter while working up the courage to crumple it and dispose of it

He never can

When Rin found the letter, his heat sunk

She thought it was cute, but rolled her eyes at how Kazan was acting

The days following the letter, you've noticed in trials with Oni, he never downs you with his Kanabo anymore, only his Katana

Even during chases, when he's activated his blood fury right behind you, he stampedes off somewhere to down anyone else

And when he carries you to hooks, you've noticed how gently he holds you

But he never stays after hooking you and seems to avoid your gaze

Strangely, Rin has been giving you some leeway during trials as well

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

When he got back to his realm after the trial, he immediately went to work on making a box for the letter

Yeah, a whole keepsake box for a single letter

He places it next to the box where he keeps his old drawings

Whenever he sees you in trials, he still gets those butterflies

If you step in one of his traps, he's immediately rushing to where he heard you scream

If he sees any other survivors trying to free you, he swats at them

Evan gently pulls at the jaw of the trap and pulls it apart, letting you retract your injured foot

He's trying his hardest not to ogle your legs

"Sorry," he mutters gruffly, his hands holding your leg softly while he inspects the damage

He picked up some gauze that one of the others dropped and begins to bandage your wound

He can feel your gaze burning holes into his mask as he works

He's the one to break the silence

"I've killed you... and your friends, over and over."

There's a long pause on your end before you respond

"I know"

You two leave it at that

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Caleb keeps the letter under the bar counter in his realm

Whenever he returns from an exhausting or lost trial, he looks at it

A small part of him still thinks you're messing with him

He's way too nervous and skittish around you now to do anything, so you're gonna have to initiate everything

In trials, you do your best to spend time with him

Especially when you insist that he treats you no different

When he carries you to hook, you take the moment to touch him

You turn your head to plant a kiss on the back of his neck

Caleb visibly shivers and lets out a groan

"Yer tryin' ta kill me, ain'tcha?"

"Is it working?"

Despite you asking otherwise, he tends to leave you alone when he can in trials, opting to hide the others

If you confront him about it, he'll deny it

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

He keeps your letter in the inner pocket of his jacket

You definitely have his full attention now

Don't expect any special treatment, because he's not gonna give it

In fact, he seems to actively seek you out first if he knows you're in his trial

Wesker gets angry when you can't loop him for more than a couple of minutes

"Are you even trying? Pathetic"

While carrying you to a hook, he's lecturing you all the way

"You didn't run it tight enough. You were too greedy with the pallet. You didn't check your blind spots."

He'll get even more irritated if you start to tear up

Can't you see he's trying to help you?

Wesker refuses to have someone so vulnerable as an admirer

So you better get to it

If you do manage to improve and become better in trials, his attitude changes

It goes from scoldings to rewards

He takes off his gloves to hold your chin and pull you close

You feel his lips ghost over your cheek and shiver when he tightens his grip on you

He stares at your face, drinking up your reactions

And then he lets you go, watching as your face twists from dazed to confused

"What? Were you expecting a kiss?"

You're gonna have to do a lot more if you wanna get a smooch from him

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

He tapped your letter to the side of his chainsaw

He gets all giddy when he glances at it during his sweeps, especially if he manages to down a survivor

It's his good luck charm

If he spots you in a trial, he'll literally drop everything to rush over and give you hug

Bubba would honestly hug you all trial if you let him

He's definitely become a bit more protective over you, maybe even prone to jealousy

He doesn't even let anyone work on gens with you, revving his chainsaw if anyone gets too close

Once everyone gets the message and leaves you two be, he'll sit behind you as you work and hug you

Expect lots of nuzzles

Bubba whines when the gen is completed and you have to stand up to find a new one

He follows you like a puppy until you find the next one and the process begins anew

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Danny doesn't really have anywhere he can store the letter safely

So he does the logical thing and memorizes it's contents, word for word

He doesn't care what happens to the paper

Sometimes during trials, he'll tease you by reciting it during chases

Even adding things you're certain you never added

"And I promise to always let you smash whenever and wherever you want," he says, mimicking your voice as you dangle from the hook

"I NEVER WROTE THAT!!"

Being her favorite, The Entity doesn't care if Danny spares you every trial

But he won't

Because he's a meanie

"No hard feelings, right boo?" He coos as he plunges his blade into your back

If you're sore about it, he's more than happy to make it up to you

He'll run his cold leather-gloved hands under your shirt, pressing you against a wall as you try to stay angry

"Come on, don't be like that," he mutters into your ear, squishing your sides

If you fold now, he'll tease you for being whipped

But if you stay strong, he'll pull out the big guns

He buries his masked face into your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours

"You feel that, baby? You feel how sorry I am?" He growls, pressing his hard-on against you

[pseudowho]

(MASTERLIST DISCONTINUED- PLEASE SEE PINNED POST ON MY BLOG FOR NEW RESTRUCTURED MASTERLIST!)

Pseudowho's Original JJK Masterlist

Scroll through to see...

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Suguru Geto

Choso Kamo

Aoi Todo

JJK multi-character fics

Nanami Kento Masterlist

Updated: 28th March 2024

REQUESTS CLOSED

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🔥 Smut 💔 Angst 💕 Romance

☕ Comfort/Fluff 🤡 Clowning

🐙 Monsterfucking. 📚 Education (*dirty laugh*)

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1st of December 🔥☕💕 -- No-Nut November is over-- but Nanami Kento won't let you get away with it that easily.

7:3 🤡 -- Nanami Kento never thought about his 7:3 pattern...a fourth wall breaking moment.

"Dad Reflexes" Ask and Drabble 🤡💕☕-- Nanami Kento can catch anything.

Daylight Robbery 💕☕🔥-- when Gojo asks Nanami to cuckold him and his fiancée, things don't go the way Gojo planned...

Debellatio 🔥💕-- a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma sex-pollen threesome.

Ditch the Party 🔥💕-- Nanami Kento hates parties. But the drinks? The drinks make him bold.

Domain Expansion theory-- Pseudowho's vision of Nanami Kento's domain expansion.

Edging Nanami Kento 🔥💕-- The reader drives Nanami Kento to the edge and back again.

Fire and Iron 💕☕🔥-- AU!Nanami Kento is the town blacksmith, and the reader is forced to stay the night after tending to his wounds.

Full 🔥☕💕-- Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.

Glory Glory 🔥☕💕-- "Help, I'm stuck!" on a mission with Kento, and he takes full advantage of the compromising position.

Good Boy 🔥💕-- after a bad day, you know exactly what Kento needs to help him relax...

Good Girl 💕🤡 -- a drabble

Grandpapamin ☕💕-- Nanami Kento as a grandfather, Headcanons.

Grey 🔥💔💕-- The reader lives a vigilante life; so does Nanami Kento, a changed man after the events of Shibuya. When she is sent to hunt him down, Nanami Kento has a proposition for her.

Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part One ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.

Grey! Nanami Headcanons Part Two ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader headcanons.

Grey! Nanami Christmas ⛄🎄 Headcanons ☕💕💔-- post-Shibuya Nanami Kento x Reader Headcanons.

Hanahaki 💕☕💔-- being in love with you is killing Nanami Kento.

Hide and Seek 🔥-- Game night gets spicy.

"How well can you drive?" 🔥 -- the reader takes matters into her own mouth so Kento can prove his driving skills.

Infiltration (MULTI-CHAPTER) 🔥☕💔💕

(COMPLETE!) --the reader and Nanami Kento must pretend to be married, infiltrating a Curse-user cult to take it down from the inside.

Chapter One: Introduction

Chapter Two: Pillow Talk

Chapter Three: Deadly Games

Chapter Four: The Rumbling Shrine

Chapter Five: Breaking Point

Chapter Six: Exposed

Chapter Seven: The Captive Goddess

Chapter Eight: Unchained

In From the Cold ☕🔥💕-- The reader wanders in the snow, lost and injured after a mission gone wrong; will Nanami Kento save her?

Kento Comes Home Drunk 🔥💕-- and the reader handles his advances like a total champ.

And, its sequel... Reader Comes Home Drunk 🔥 💕-- where Kento manages the reader's advances like an absolute champ.

Knismolagnia 🔥💕-- Kento has a somewhat...erotic response to being tickled.

Last Moments 💔☕-- Nanami Kento remembers a childhood holiday.

Nanami Kento, and the Curses of an Unusual Nature (MULTI-CHAPTER) -- Nanami Kento is deemed the only Sorcerer sensible enough to handle some frankly weird Curses

- Chapter 1: Gone Shopping 🤡 -- locals are going missing at a large shopping centre; Nanami Kento is sent to investigate.

Nanami Kento's Massive Squeezable Man Tiddies 🔥☕-- the reader being casually obsessed with Kento's chest...repost link HERE!

Operation Babymaker (a new series!) 💕💔🔥☕ -- Nanami Kento takes trying for a baby very seriously indeed.

A Trip to the Tailors-- the reader reveals she's been off the pill for months, and Kento cannot contain himself.

Benchpress-- the reader interrupts Kento's workout, and is manhandled into submission.

Ditch the Party...again-- tipsy Kento is back, and deadlier than ever.

Wet Dreams-- Kento gives the reader a free-pass for when he's asleep...and he returns the favour

Raising You ☕💔💕-- When the reader is de-aged by a Curse, Nanami is forced to raise her like a daughter.

Red 🔥💔-- Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse-user, has been on the run for years...what will you do when he catches up to you?

Resolute ☕💔💕-- The reader helps Nanami to accept that he has a drinking problem.

Seasons of Grief 🔥💔💕☕ -- The reader supports Nanami Kento through the anniversary of Yuu Haibara's death, and afterwards, when Kento nearly loses the reader

Shirtsleeves 🔥 -- The reader steals Kento's last shirt, and receives her comeuppance.

Still Got It ☕💕-- The Nanami kids' parents are boring...right?

Stoic 💕🔥-- Kento is furious when Gojo assumes that his lack of PDA towards the reader shows a lack of desire.

The Accumulation of Little Despairs ☕💔💕 -- The reader struggles with low-mood; Nanami Kento comes to the rescue

The Chase 🔥💕-- The reader has insisted on No-Nut November; Nanami Kento gets his revenge by hunting her down and taking his reward.

Why I love Nanami Kento

Yet Another Sex Pollen Fic, PART ONE 🔥💕

And...PART TWO 🔥💕 -- the reader has a problem... and only Nanami Kento can help her scratch the itch.

Higuruma Hiromi Masterlist

Updated: 6th March 2024

REQUESTS CLOSED

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Calamus et Gladius (the pen and the sword) 🔥💕💔☕-- slow-burn, enemies to lovers Culling Game smut with Higuruma and a foreign reader

Daddy 🔥☕💕-- dating apps are a hazard for men like Higuruma Hiromi...

Debellatio 🔥💕-- a Higuruma x Reader x Nanami sex-pollen threesome

Fellatio 🔥-- the bathtub lawyer receives head in his office.

Fumus et Ignis 🔥💕-- sometimes, Hiromi smokes and ties you up while he makes you ride him.

Glory Glory 🔥☕-- 'Help, I'm Stuck!' with Hiromi, two bottles of wine and a compromising position with his gavel.

Hiromi and Nemo ☕-- tales of Higuruma Hiromi, and his little black cat.

Hiromi Higuruma Relationship Headcanons ☕🔥💕

In Flagrante Delicto 💔☕🔥💕-- Higuruma struggles to adapt to life as a sorcerer, refusing all of your offers to help...until he needs you.

"I've Committed a Crime" Ask and Drabble 🤡💕-- Higuruma is a ruthless tease

Jus in Bello: A Judicious Domain 💔🔥💕-- The reader throws Higuruma out of their home after they struggle to adapt to his new Cursed power...and the reader must then hunt him down in the Culling Game, to bring him home.

Men with Big Noses 🔥💕-- you reveal a kink for Higuruma's nose, and he shows you exactly what he can do with that.

Milk and Honey 💕🔥-- Hiromi is obsessed with your milk, and loves you while you sleep.

Office Besties ☕💕-- Hiromi and you are just friends...right?

Sanguis et Vinum 🔥💕-- period sex with Higuruma

Shower drabble ☕💕-- Higuruma comforts you after a bad day.

The Stairwell 🔥💕-- You've been teasing Higuruma all day at the office; he catches up to you, eventually.

Vinum Rubrum 🔥💕-- wine is better when you share a glass...and your mouths.

The Widow's Keeper ☕💔💕-- The reader and Higuruma traverse the complexities of love and grief, after the death of Nanami Kento, her first husband.

"Your Honour" Ask and Drabble 💕🤡🔥-- Hiromi forgets your name as he cums.

Suguru Geto Masterlist

Updated: 23rd February 2024

REQUESTS OPEN!

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Deadly Nightshade 🐙🔥💕-- a Suguru Geto "sex pollen" fic.

Kamo Choso Masterlist

Updated: 28th December 2023

REQUESTS OPEN!

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Glory Glory 🔥☕-- 'Help, I'm stuck!' on a mission together, and virgin Choso is offered the opportunity of a lifetime.

Snowhere to Go ☕💕-- When your date plans are foiled by the snow, you and Choso make your own fun with a stack of old board games.

Aoi Todo Masterlist

Updated: 27th January 2024

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Act of the Soul 🔥-- Aoi Todo uses his Boogie Boogie on the reader during sex.

JJK's Multi-Character Masterlist

Updated: 31st March 2024

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Being gross in long-term comfortable relationships ☕💕-- with Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Yuuta, Maki, Megumi, Nobara, Yuuji and Ino

"Cumfaces" Ask and Drabble 🤡

Defending Your Honour ☕💕-- the JJK boys are sick of the creeps and perverts who harass our dear reader.

Nanami, Todo and Geto

Higuruma, Ino and Yuuji

Gojo, Megumi and Nobara, Inumaki and Toji

Firemen 💔☕💕-- the JJK Crew rescue the Reader, and fall in love at the same time.

Nanami and Higuruma Aesthetics: ☕ 'Besto Friendos' dichotomies

Neat Suit/Messy Suit

Cold Anger/Hot Anger

"Stay down!" Fighter/"Get Up!" Fighter

City-Skyline Penthouse/Converted-Factory Penthouse aesthetics

IKEA Flat-pack Aesthetics

How They Ejaculate 🔥📚-- a physiological ejaculation study of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Choso, Toji, Higuruma and TrueForm!Sukuna

Penis Synonym Smutfics 🤡🔥 -- with Nanami Kento, Hiromi Higuruma, Takuma Ino, Gojo Satoru and Inumaki Toge

Penpals (a Panda fic) 🐼☕-- he didn't mean to Catfish you. Honestly.

Shower Mat 🔥💕-- the reader buys an 'old lady shower mat'...that makes shower shenanigans suddenly possible.

Takuma Ino as a Young Dad ☕💕-- when Takuma unexpectedly becomes a father...

The Rebounds 🔥💕-- Yuuta and Maki show you the date of your life, after you're dumped

They Find You Wearing This...Unsexy Monstrosity 🤡 -- with Itadori Yuuji, Satoru Gojo, Higuruma, Sukuna, Toji, Nanami and Suguru

[muzansfangs]

Mojito + Douma & Kokushibo

Devotion.

Starring: Douma x f!reader; Kokushibo x f!reader; Douma x f!reader x Kokushibo; mention to Gyokko and Muzan;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, public sex, dom!Kokushibo, dom!Douma, sub!reader, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, anal penetration, double penetration, bitemarks, hair pulling, reader is a demon, manhandling, blood drinking, violence in battle, consuming humans, dispicable use of blood as a cosmetic, kind of sacrilegious scenary (sex in the shrine area);

Plot: As one of Douma’s most loyal followers, you had some privileges. One of those was being turned into a demon and trained to climb the ranks of the Upper Moons. When Gyokko died, Muzan chose you to take his place. In the middle of a training session with the leader of the Eternal Paradise Cult and the Upper Moon One, you accidentally hit them with your blood demon technique: aphrodisiac blood. Pinned down by your comrades, you were demanded to show them your devotion.

Drink chosen: MOJITO (double!penetration, threesome, anal sex, vaginal sex, marking the partner);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The Moon glowed solitary in a starless dark sky. Under the pale light provided by the satellite, you were sitting on the cold stairs of an ancient shrine, forgotten by the neglectful humans who had built it centuries ago to probably appease the divine wrath of their god. Ivy and dirt blanketed the abandoned building, now deemed a pit of demons and curses by the local folklore. Pitiful. It was nothing but pitiful. You grimaced at the thought of the typical human inconsistency and stupidity.

Still, not long ago, you were a human too. Some memories from your past life still flashed in your mind. Who were you before you turned into a blood-thirsted creature? You were a devoted young girl, living in a Temple in which people disappeared mysteriously from their beds in the dead of the night. It was a ritual, or this is what the Leader of the Cult wanted his followers to believe. Those humans were doomed. Their naivety and faith were their downfall. However, while he deliberately manipulated the whining mass of people seeking protection and blessings from him, he had never tried to hide his identity, his nature, to you. Loyal to him, you had always stood by his side, not manifesting horrified expressions, when he devoured people in front of you. Your fingers were usually threading through his silky platinum blond hair, whilst he fed. Humming sweet melodies for him, helping him to bathe, you had gradually become his life companion, or something close to it. Along with the favors and attentions he required, he did not abstain from asking you to indulge into the bed with him.

Satisfying your Lord, though, did not feel unpleasant. There was something enthralling about the way he broke you down and built you up.

To show you his gratitude, Douma had therefore turned you into a demon to preserve your beauty. It was amusing how you had inheridated some of his characteristic. Your nails, pointy and lilac, were among them. Your devotion intensified. By the time you had trained enough to be capable of not shaking in front of Muzan Kibutsuji, Douma had suggested him to make you one of the Twelve Kitsuki. You felt on top of the world, the glory of finally standing at the top ensnared your senses and you gladly complied to the King of demons’s order to show your loyalty to him.

Standing up now, you detected the subtle attack coming from your left. Dodging it was easy, the golden tessen aiming at your neck cut a mere strand of your hair. You smirked, kneeling a few feet away from your opponent. Pearly fangs shining under the moonlight, Douma waved his hand at you casually.

“Ah, you’ve become so agile, Y/N-chan!” Douma stated, as you casually approached him with a soft smile on your red-painted lips. He, only he or another demon could say what it was smeared over your mouth.

His hand gripping your hair and straining your neck made you wince. His tongue darted out of his mouth, lapping at the dried blood you used to decorate your lips. Your clawed hand gripped his cheek, nails digging onto the smooth flesh enough to pierce his flesh and draw blood. You had become so much rougher with each other since you had become the new Upper Rank Five. Your animalistic and savage nature had kicked in, surprising your carefree friend to some extents.

“And you are perpetually needy” you whispered, lips hovering over his, before you ungraciously shoved him off of you and caused him to tumble onto the ground.

Douma was fascinated, watching as you rested your bare foot on top of his broad chest and bit down onto your wrist. Oh, how much he loved feeding from you. The sight of your crimson blood dribbling down your skin and splattering onto his face made his cock throb into his pants. The need to be inside of you was unbearable. The Upper Moon Two diligently opened his mouth, tongue welcoming the drops of blood you were so generously letting drip from your wound. Once again, you were subservient, indulgent.

His hand slided up your naked calf, squeezing it suggestively, rainbow-colored eyes locking with yours as you sighed and decided to cruelly deprive him of your proximity, of your intoxicating blood.

Douma groaned, pushing himself up on his elbows as your skin regenerated quickly “Ah, come on, what did I say to piss you off now?” he asked you, but he did not receive an answer from you, because the air around the shrine suddenly became asphyxiating. Your eyes grew round, your knees almost buckling under the pressure, upon ascertaining the Upper Moon One had joined you two. You were expecting him to come; whenever Muzan gave orders, he was the only one who never failed his expectations.

Bowing your head respectfully at the highest rank of what remained of the Twelve Kizuki, you greeted him “Kokushibo-dono, it’s a joy to welcome you here. We were just waiting for you to begin” you cooed, breaking the eeare silence enveloping the area.

You knew nothing about him, beside his sense of honor and an incommensurable admiration for the progenitor of your specimen. A rational, taciturn man who hardly ever barged into the unimportant squabbles taking place among those below him. What mattered to that man was the impertubable balance of powers.

An high-pitched gasp from behind you, caught your attention and, in a blink of an eye, Douma was standing right next to you “Ah, Kokushibo-dono, it’s been so long! You have declined all of my invitations to visit my residence… It’s a shame, really! Recently, I’ve taken in a couple of lovely girls. I looked forward to share them with you” the Upper Moon Two ranted, that fake overjoyed smile curving the angles of his lips upwards, while he sneakily swung his arm around your waist, yanking you against his side.

You sighed, a pout on your lips, before you searched for Kokushibo’s gaze to begin your training session. While you were more than capable of taking down a Pillar on your own, you still had some troubles in controlling your blood demon technique and, with the incoming war, Muzan wanted you to be extremely proficient, impeccable. Letting you train along the two strongest demons alive was the best way to improve your skills.

The former Demon Slayer sized you up, hand resting onto the hilt of his katana out of habit “Y/N. — he greeted you, his six bloodshot eyes then darting on the tall man at your left — Hard times require total concentration. There is absolutely no time to slack off and indulge into sordid, deplorable activities. Get in position” he sternly said, causing the younger demon to sneer and plant a kiss on your cheek before distancing himself from you leisurely.

You had no idea of the specific schedule he had chosen for you, yet the moment your nose was pierced by the fragrance of human blood, and your ears heard heavy footsteps rapidly consuming the road leading from the woods to the shrine, you put the pieces together. You looked at Kokushibo, not surprised by his lack of an explanation. Slayers. Those humans running straight to their death were Slayers the Upper Moon One had purposefully conducted to you.

“Oh, is that food? Please, tell me pretty girls in black uniforms are coming for us…” Douma chimed, his smile broadening as he tried to take a step towards the dark forest.

Kokushibo’s gesture of the hand, though, was enough to stop him from doing anything more than watching the scene unfold before his dreamy eyes.

Being the center of the attention had never been more difficult than now. Your eyes scrutinized the area, your nails ready to rip to shreds whomever had the audacity to attempt to slice your head off of your shoulders. A few seconds passed by before you spotted the group of young Slayers running towards you. Ready for battle, glaring at you, they unsheathed their blades. Six humans, not exactly weaklings, craved your head. But before you could just charge at them, Kokushibo spoke out again.

“Use your technique. Focus solely on it”.

His deep voice, for some reason, sent shivers down your spine. Probably, you were just enthralled by the massacre about to take place in the holy territory underneath your feet. Or maybe you were already losing control. Nevertheless, you quickly switched your attention back on the youngs group of humans in front of you.

“Good evening” you cooed, smiling faintly at the now shaking people looking at you and your frightening friends in horror.

“Upper ranks… We’re dead. Tell the crows to send a Pillar” a female Slayer blurted out, sweat beading her forehead as she frantically looked at both her sides in search for possible ways out of this situation.

“A Pillar? Are you fucking blind? We need more than a Pillar here!” her comrade said, eyes not leaving your frame as you sighed and shook your head. It was pointless. What could three Pillars do anyway against three upper ranks? Nothing.

Your eyes glinted, your hand caressing the cheek of the female slayer who had suggested to call a Pillar. You heard them gasp, when they realized you were standing practically among them, not fearing their deadly blades at all. You were blatantly challenging them, awaiting for the right moment to devour them. You giggled, before you disappeared from the small circle around you, holding the young fighter in your arms before you speaking again. Back in your original spot, you were running your fingers through the silky black hair of the girl, her body writhing under your touch as you leaned your face down to your let your lips graze her earlobe. It was time to satisfy your whims and you did not hesitate to activate your technique.

“Blood demon art: the human puppet” you whispered, the white sclera of your eyes fading into black.

Before your victim could even register what was happening, blood threds connected to her joints and she naturally dropped to her knees in front of you. Adoration in her eyes, she hugged your legs, the effects of your aphrodisiac blood driving her nuts.

“What’s happening? What did she do to her?” the head of the group snapped, trying to assess your reactions to figure out what your power could do.

Honestly, you were having fun. There was no pressure of ending things quickly for once. You had all the time in world to enjoy your minutes of glory and you did. You smiled at the girl at your feet, clasping your hands together as you listened to her words.

“How can I serve you?” she meekly asked you, cheeks flushing up as you hummed and gestured at her friends at her back, hunger for blood making your mouth salivate, albeit you tried to get a grip of yourself.

“Those people have offended me. Why don’t you kill them for me?” you asked, watching in glee as she hastily picked her sword back up and sprinted towards them. Ready to defend themselves, the slayers cursed your name as the group had apparently decided to split. You watched in interest three of them charging at you, homicidal instinct in their eyes, while the rest of them sparred with their comrade.

All the while, you had felt Douma and Kokushibo’s eyes on you, studying your moves, contemplating your choices and strategies. They had not bothered helping you out and they did not seem interested in it anyway, at least, until a disaster happened. Trusting blindly in your abilities, you had waited too long before activating your technique. The moment you did, you were forced to block the slash of a slayer with your forearm. The impact was powerful enough to cause your blood to spill, accidentally splattering on your two colleagues faces, staining their lips and inhebriating them.

Faltering, you had no time to apologize that a katana sliced through your opponent’s head. The thud of his body colliding onto the ground was followed by the screams of terror and agony of the others. Soon enough, you were surroundered by bunch of dismembered corpses, no more sounds echoing in the calm forest, if not… Heavy breaths, grunts of frustration. Affected by your technique, the upper moon One and Two were staring right into your eyes, their fangs protruding from their gums, ferally hissing to fight the primal urges of dominating the weakest prey in front of them. It was your fault. The second form of your blood demon technique was literally called ‘primal lust of the hunter’.

Taking a few impish steps back, you tried to comfort them “I promise the side effects are going to wear off in a few—”.

“How long?” Kokushibo growled, planting his sword onto the ground. You had never seen him like that.

“Kokushibo-dono, I… I—”.

A sudden grip on your forearm, yanking you towards them, made you gasp in sheer embarrassment. That look in their eyes, that way of staring you down in hunger promised nothing less than a long night of submission ahead of you.

“How long?” the Upper moon One hissed on your face, his grip on your forearm intensifying, until you confessed the truth.

“Until you reach the peak of your ecstasy” you blurted out, earning an hysterical laughter from Douma, who grasped a fistful of your hair and encircled your waist with a hand. His abs glued to your back, he rotated his hips against your rear, the clothed bulge underneath the layers he wore poking at you with unbridled hunger.

You shuddered, closing your eyes “I can help you! I can help you both!” you fretted, body on fire as their hands began to undress you with urgency.

Probably, this was the biggest mistake of your life, but the famous thing that happened once ever in a lifetime too. Lips devoured yours instantly, the guttural groan escaping Kokushibo lips made your disclose your lips automatically to let his tongue invade your mouth. Your hands threaded your the former Slayer’s hair, tugging at his ponytail to squash his body against yours. Fangs sank onto the crook of your neck, your whimper swallowed by Koksuhibo, as Douma hand slipped underneath your ripped kimono and masterly cupped your sex.

How many times had he done that to you? So many nights, so many nights but not a single one of them could compare to what he was making you feel right now. Douma always took his sweet time in tearing you apart, but his thumb did not indulge much on your throbbing clitoris.

You whined in protest, only for him to take a step back and unbuckle the belt of his pants “Sorry, Y/N-chan, but I feel… Oh, my sweet gods, I feel like I could burst into my own pants, if I don’t fuck that pretty hole of yours. Not much prep today, okay?” he rasped out, sweat running down the valley of your breasts along with the blood still dribbling down your collarbone in irregular crimson lines from his harsh bite onto your neck.

When the Upper Moon One pulled away, his hands discarding his robes onto the ground, finally granting you the celestial sight of his chiseled body, you struggled to keep your composure: the body of a warrior, the body of a divinity. The body of a man who had trained for centuries, in the desperate chase to proclaim himself the strongest slayer alive.

“Her womb is mine” he declared firmly, causing your knees to buckle, when he grasped your hips and made you straddle him easily. Douma surprisingly did not retaliate, kneeling right behind you instead as his hand slipped down between your thighs to collect some of your juices.

He growled, the pads of his fingers collecting the result of your wanton before smearing them onto the entrance of your puckered hole. You writhed, glancing at him from above your shoulder, before pulling him into a sloppy kiss “You better worship the ground I walk on after this” you whispered, only for a pathetic whimper to leave your lips as Kokushibo’s calloused band grasped your jaw unceremoniously and turned your head towards him once again.

“He’s your superior, but I personally don’t see the number one etched in his eyes” the man darkly said, pushing his hips against yours and witnessing to the way you came to realize his hakama were now loosely hanging down his hips. His cock, standing as a ramrod, was probbing at your entrance with arrogance, his free hand angling your hips to favor the penetration.

“I apologize, Kokushibo-dono. — you breathed out, arching your back as he lined the bulbous tip on you clenching hole — Douma and I are familiar with this kind of entertainment” you explained, breath hitching in your throat when the blond man at your back began to slide a finger into your backside to stretch you out a little. He was seething in anger, frustration of not having the chance to paint the welcoming walls of your pussy in white, as he always did.

The Upper Moon Two smirked “That’s right! I think Kokushibo-dono will absolutely love to hear how much of a slut you are when you are stuffed so full of cum that you twitch like a fish dying on the shore” he remarked, your eyes screwed shut as you felt your tight walls swallowing his fingers into your most private parts.

Were you going to be able to walk after this? If they actually injured you, was your demonic regeneration going to heal your wounds?

“Enough talk” Kokushibo flatly said, unsympathetically pinching your right nipple to hear you squirm under his ministrations as well.

And, gosh, you did. What made him groan out in pleasure, his stolid mask slipping, was the way your pussy squeezed him up perfectly when he entered you. Hands planted onto your hipbones, Kokushibo guided you up and down onto his length. The girth had almost made you regret your choice of taking care of their impellent needs, but the way he occasionally let the head of his cock kiss your cervix made you cry out loudly, shamelessly, your head lolling back on Douma’s shoulder as he also began to slide into you.

You had no idea how you had managed to, how your body had adapted to that tempo, to the way they were manhandly you, but when Douma had filled you up to the brim, his pelvis slapping against your arses, you knew you had showed your devotion to them.

“Fuck! I— O my God… — you whimpered out, vision blurry as tears ran down your cheeks copiously — K-Koku, Koku, I can’t” you inhaled sharply, only for him to snort at your face, a powerful thrust causing your whole body to collapse against his.

“It’s Lord Kokushibo to you”.

His words, vivid in your mind, were the only thing you remembered hearing from him after they were done with you. Panting, a mass of sweat and fluids, you were sandwitched between them. Kokushibo came deep into you, arms almost possessively keeping you in place, his gestures so cold and methodical. You wondered, you wondered if a long time ago he had been married, if he had fucked her with the only intention of impregnating her because you were damned if he had not given you that impression.

Douma was breathing heavily, tongue lapping at the umpteenth wound he had left onto your neck, as he softened into you. He had not pulled out as well, you could feel his sperm oozing out from your abused hole as you barely had the energy to nuzzle your head into Kokushibo’s chest.

He did not caress you, neither said a word, but he allowed you to rest like that for a little while. Your training had just begun.

AUTHOR NOTE.

A big thank you to the anon who had submitted this request! I said it once and I’ll say it again: writing threesomes is amusing! Also… I might have a thing for Douma, that’s pretty evident by now. Thank you for your support and see you in the next work!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

x o x o

Dt: @doumadono @mrskokushibo my angels✨❤️

TAGS: @axesfordays @flakeygod @tomatoeshater @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @crystal-freak24 @the-nex @squ4respace @akazas-left-tatted-butt-cheek @wooyugta @ilubplants @the-faceless-bride

[daryldove]

The Sinful, The Guilty

incubus!daryl x fem!reader

monster fucking, size difference, stomach bulge, happy halloween!

summary: you get more than you bargained for when stumbling across a spooky basement in a seemingly abandoned cabin. 2.3k

It's an unnecessarily humid day, and although you had planned on covering lots of ground, you can't muster the willpower to bother. Now you're deep in the woods, trying to improve your mediocre hunting skills. You can't even remember the last time you ate fresh meat. But you're also already exhausted. It's too hot, the bugs are relentless, and it seems like a storm is brewing, so you decide to only walk as much as you can handle while searching for shelter.

Cabins this far out were few and far between, but as one appears through the trees after hours of walking, you decide maybe things aren't so bad after all. The interior is dusty and musty, but it's a better shelter than you've had ages. And you can't exactly afford to be picky. A small cot sits in one corner across from a cold fireplace. Lucky, after all.

You spend the next few minutes getting settled, spreading your belongings around, already taking advantage of having such a secluded, safe feeling place to call home for a bit. That's when you suddenly trip over something protruding from under the frayed rug. Which fucking hurts. You start rolling over the worn material, ready to give whatever inanimate object a piece of your damn mind, only to stare wide eyes once you expose a boarded up trapdoor. Immediately, it has you feeling somewhat queasy.

It takes an hour, your knife, and more energy than you'd like to admit to finally pry all the boards off. You hesitate, for the first time despite all the work it took, as an eerie feeling washes over you. This is creepily suspicious; maybe you should mind your own business. In fact, being inside the cabin at all suddenly feels… off. You sit back on your heels, biting your lip anxiously as you stare down at the latch. Just as the idea of leaving grows appealing, light rain starts echoing against the wood roof. Fuck. Okay, well… Guess you're stuck here, and you're absolutely not sleeping without knowing what's hiding underneath. With growing hesitation, you unclip the latch and open the trapdoor.

After dropping from the ladder, you shine your torch over the dark room. It's damp and stagnant inside, and mostly empty except for what appears to be a shrine on the opposite wall. Your gaze sweeps over various items, herbs, bottles, and books before noticing the faded pentacle drawn in chalk. Unintelligible symbols are written around the outside. Some freaky religious shrine wasn't exactly what you expected, although you suppose it's better than a rotting corpse.

You reach over to pick up a weathered book resting over the star, a small, broken cross resting underneath clinks at the movement. The text in the book is in another language you don't understand, seemingly different from the markings on the floor. Despite the initial creepiness, there's something oddly sad about it all. You can't help but wonder what occurred here—was this done after the world fell? An attempt at seeking answers or protection? You place the book down with a heavy sigh and a heavy heart.

The storm has picked up by the time you ascend the ladder. Dark clouds blanket the woods around you. You gaze around the cabin, something in the stale air feels like it's changed, like time has stopped. It's probably just paranoia, but you can't shake the feeling. The rain pours down harder, as if it's trying to soothe you, and you close the trapdoor with a thud.

No, something is definitely wrong. Your eyes flick around the dark cabin, a shiver creeping up your spine. You force it back down, but the feeling of someone watching you remains. The deep shadows of the room have you patting around for your flashlight, but it's not where you left it.

You practically jump out of your skin as lightning cracks overhead, briefly illuminating the tall, winged figure standing in the corner.

What the fuck.

You freeze momentarily before scrambling for your dagger, a habit the apocalypse built into you, only to remember you left it in your damn bag. The glowing outline of whoever—whatever—stains your vision, only disorienting you more.

You lunge for where you think you tossed your bag earlier, desperate for the comforting weight of your blade, but creature must realise what you're doing. A strong grip yanks you back by the ankle, dragging you along the rough floor until it has you pinned underneath its broad body. Pure terror rakes your body, your eyes wide and frantic. It's too dark to see any features on the dark mass above.

“I ain't gonna hurt ya.” The deep voice comes as another surprise, but you're not exacly reassured by it. You aren't sure how long you lay there, panting, until its hold on you eventually loosens. The moment it does, you crawl back until you hit the wall. Your flashlight bumps against your foot, and you snatch it up, quickly shining it towards the creature.

He's… surprisingly human-looking, aside from the horns poking through his hair, black wings stretching behind him, and the long, thin tail. He flinches at the bright light, still slouched on the floor. Then you notice something else, the fact he's completely naked. Breathing suddenly feels difficult again as you have to force your eyes to stay above his waistline because Jesus Christ...

“What are you?” There's a noticeable shake in your voice as you ask. The winged man just looks a little irritated, and if you're purposely bothering him with stupid questions.

“Stop pointing that thing at me,” he ignores your inquiry as he squints.

“Not until you tell me.” You can't help feeling proud about not letting your voice shake this time. Although he hasn't hurt you yet, you still feel on edge.

He just scoffs like you're an idiot. “An incubus, darlin’. You brought me here, remember?” A what? You what?

Your eyes scan over him again, inspecting his inhuman aspects as if trying to confirm. Did you hit your head? Wait, obviously this has something to do with that creepy shrine. There was likely a reason it was boarded up; seems like you found it. Your eyes fall lower, not even really processing where you're looking until you notice him smirking in your peripheral. A blush crawls onto your cheeks; that was not your intention, regardless of whatever this demon guy thinks. “Stop.”

“I ain't done anythin’.” He looks so smug at your unease, your gut coils at the sight—with anxiety, but maybe something else, too.

“You're looking at me like you wanna eat me,” his smirk widening makes you regret ever opening your mouth, “what do you even want?”

“What do I want? You summoned me here.”

“I don't know anything about that, okay?” It's getting increasingly more difficult to keep your eye level appropriate. With the initial fear simmering, you can actually take in how attractive he is—which maybe is a given considering he's a literal sex demon.

“Well that's obvious, haven't had a human pass through in a while. I'm pretty hungry.” You can see the truth to his claim, something sinister swirling within his irises. He chuckles as you get lost in them for a second.

“I don't... I'm not…” You don't even know what to do or say next, torn between the urge to flee and being frozen in place. For now you focus on getting to your feet. “Okay. Shit, fuck, okay… Do you have a name?”

The incubus raises an eyebrow but nods, “Daryl.” Less biblical than you were expecting, but you return his nod. You attempt to reassure yourself; this situation didn't have to be weird or dangerous. But once you close your eyes to take a deep breath, Daryl is nowhere to be seen once you reopen them. Your heart drops into your stomach again as you stumble forward a few steps. Were you actually hallucinating? Maybe you really fell down the ladder and received a nasty head wound. Right as you place the flashlight hesitantly on the table, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you back into a broad, muscular chest. Your breath hitches, and you tense as one of Daryl's hands firmly grips your chin.

You don't even realise you're whimpering quietly in fear until he shushes you. One of his fingers slides between your lips to rest against your tongue. “Fuck… I'm so hungry,” his voice is a raspy whisper against your ear. “Can ya be a good little girl for me?” Despite your unease, you feel yourself throb at the words. Not that you're to blame. He is an incubus, after all. Nothing wrong with giving in, you tell yourself.

The feeling of his cock pressing against your back makes you bite down slightly on his finger. This was kinda fucked up, if you thought about it for too long. But you were already tempted to throw caution to the wind. Maybe it's curiosity, frustration after being pent up for so long, or maybe he's got some crazy demon powers. Did you even care? His finger presses more firmly against your tongue as his free hand trails upwards, tugging and tearing at your top until he exposes your chest. His tail curls around your thigh, trapping you close. The way his thumb rubs and pinches at your nipples makes you squirm instinctively as his hips grind against yours. He continues until you're aching, desperate for any amount of friction, your knuckles turning white with how hard you're clutching the table in front of you.

Eventually, he removes his finger from your mouth, stepping back only long enough to yank your pants down. He drags the moistened finger over your clit, chuckling gruffly as you buck up against his hand. A strangled gasp escapes your mouth. “Yeah, baby girl, ya like that?” He presses himself against your back again, this time sliding his dick between your squeezed, wet thighs. His length presses hotly against your cunt, and you can practically feel him throbbing against you.

You feel any remaining hesitance crumble, giving way to complete desperation as Daryl fucks your thighs. He's massive, bigger than any human you'd seen. Right as you feel your orgasm building, he pulls away again to drag you towards the small cot in the corner. You nearly trip trying to kick off your pants completely on the way. The incubus practically throws you onto the bed, immediately climbing over you to capture your lips in a messy, heated kiss.

His taste is enchanting, distracting you until you feel the head of his dick push into your entrance. You reluctantly pull away with a whine at the stretch. “W-Wai..t,” but he doesn't stop, only pushing in further as he holds your chin. “I got ya, baby girl.” Your head falls back as he thrusts deeper, pulling drawn out moans from your lips. He grabs your wrist, guiding your hand to your stomach. Your confusion dissipates to disbelief as you feel the outline of his length press against your palm with each thrust. You're surprised you don't come right then and there. “H-Holy shit,” you barely manage to pant out.

“Takin’ it so well, it's like ya made for me,” the incubus grunts out. He buries his head into your neck, his fangs dragging shyly across your sensitive skin, as if he's holding back from hurting you. His grip on your hips is firm, dragging you down in time with his thrusts as they grow rougher. Your own hands slide up his body, exploring his strong chest and large biceps. His horns intrigue you, curiously wrapping your hands around them like they're handles. Daryl grunts in pleasure, pushing against you even more. He holds you down, fucking you hard until you're squeezing around him and coming with a yell. A deep, satisfied sigh leaves your lips as he pulls away. Your body already feels weak from the effort.

Before you can relax fully, a hot wetness slides up your folds. “Daryl!” Your voice quivers with sensitivity. You struggle to sit up on your elbows to look where his head is buried between your thighs. His tongue is precise, lapping up your juices and circling around your clit with practised perfection. It seems he's larger than a human in every aspect. He presses kisses up your stomach to your chest, long tongue sliding over your nipple before reaching your mouth. “Ya taste so good,” he whispers against your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, fingers roaming over his wide shoulders as he kisses you.

His strong arms flip you over without warning, pressing your face into the pillow as he shoves back inside you with a grunt. The cot shakes with force as he ruts against you, his chest pressing against your back. You feel caged, completely at this monster's mercy, and it's the hottest thing you've ever experienced. His wings fall around you like some kind of dark waterfall, and his tail snakes up to press against your clit. And fuck, if it isn't the most intense pleasure you've felt in your life—it's overwhelming. Daryl angles deeper, harder, and your mind completely blanks. His fingers slide into your mouth again, holding your jaw open as he fucks with animalistic thrusts. You come so hard the room spins.

Then you jolt awake, not even remembering falling asleep. The cabin is empty, void of any sign of the incubus. Your eyes scan the room as you struggle to sit up. Every inch of your body aches. An acute tiredness spreading through your limbs. As you glance down at your nakedness, at least you can be sure what happened wasn't your imagination.

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

several replays later and i'm discovering new things still--this image is from nones directly after st. john's eve, during act 2, and i had no idea you can find father thomas in this mass garment (??? i think that's what that is). this seems to be the only time you can see him like that, and if you accept the confessions quest here, he will be wearing the garment all throughout

a few others include:

werner can be consulted should one want to figure out the volvelle thing in act 1

during prime on the last day of act 1, you can find marie and bert in the shrine to st. satia and learn more about the drucker family's struggles to have children + their devotion to st. satia

during sext, also on the last day of act 1, you can actually find brigita and veronica bathing in the waterfall

i feel like something triggers this but, during the golden hand drinking quest in act 2, when you speak with werner and his italian friends, hanna will either spill the drinks she brings up or serve them to the table. she has done the former in most of my plays but did the latter in my most recent one and i suspect this has to do with andreas's conversations regarding the murder of otto, since i was nicer to her in the latest one

this game has several ways to complete a good chunk of the quests. the yellow flowers for act 2 can be best solved by consulting agnes, but many can be consulted about it (werner, agnes, gertrude)

you can play hide and seek with ulrike in the first mural section of act 3 by seeking anna, else, and the kids in the town commons

magdalene will go down the mines no matter what in act 3; help (from baltas or the gertner twins) or no help (straight up go down there unassisted), that quest can be done apparently

you can confront Father Thomas for passing to Mother Franziska his grievances about Magdalene's pursuit for the mural directly after visiting the Poor Clares during the Christian Tassing quest in act 3. good convo in that one

actually insane that asking Father Thomas to read the Historia Tassiae for the act 3 quest was an option at all, in retrospect

[mosaickiwi]

Hide and Seek

950ish word Ren(dacted) drabble off a spicy hide and seek prompt from da discord except I didn’t do the NSFW ending because I’m cringe, my bad. GN reader.

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

Prompt: Playing “Hide and Seek" with Ren in his spacious apartment, except no room is off limits, and he has to wear a Ghostface mask while seeking you out. And if Ren manages to find you, he gets to fuck you. I'M SORRY

~

Ren had given you fourteen minutes to hide. Fourteen much needed minutes to take stock of his pitch black apartment while he waited outside. 

You'd been overly thorough, going room to room, crossing off some spots and keeping note of others, both silly and serious—you were momentarily tempted to hang ass-out of the washing machine for a cheap laugh. At the moment, hiding in the shrine-turned-storage room was your top choice. It was piled high enough with stuff that you were sure you'd sneak by him to some other hiding spot if he tried to corner you. But just in case, you made your way into his bedroom to find another option or two.

You hurried across the room to open his closet door and turn on its light. The rows of hanging and neatly folded black clothes on either side of the spacious walk-in didn't give you much to work with; even if you crouched down, he'd find you in an instant. Maybe you would hide in the storage room.

As you flipped the light switch and turned around to do just that, the front door loudly slammed shut. Your heart sank. You were out of time. There was no way you'd make it to your hiding place now. Halfway panicked, you fell to your knees and slid as quickly and quietly as possible under the bed. An obvious cliche—but it was already too risky to leave the room. You thanked your lucky stars you’d closed all the doors on your way here. It’d at least buy some time.

With bated breath, you waited in the dark, heart practically beating in your ears. The noisy sounds of them opening and closing doors echoed through the apartment. You could clearly hear his footsteps as well. He wasn’t normally anywhere close to loud, so he was definitely making all that commotion for your benefit. You weren’t sure whether to appreciate it or not, thanks to your steadily growing fear mixed with anticipation.

The noises got closer much faster than you expected them to. You only pressed yourself tighter against the floor. It was impossible to see much in the dark, but not even a brief flicker of light showed through the gap at the bottom of the bedroom door. He wasn’t bothering to turn the lights on. You were a bit miffed that he knew the layout of his apartment this well.

A few more loud footsteps, and you knew he was just outside the room. The doorknob faintly clicked as he turned it. The door opened, but thankfully you didn’t hear it shut. You could feel his footsteps, heavier than usual, thumping against the floor. Barely visible, the toes of his boots came into view right in front of you.

“I know you’re in here, Angel,” sang his voice from above you, the taunting muffled by the mask. The bed slightly dipped from his weight as he began to kneel down. Your heart only beat faster against your rib cage as you tried to stay calm. Did they really find you that quickly? You silently cursed yourself for being so picky.

All of a sudden he seemed to change his mind. The bed shifted and he moved back into complete darkness, out of your limited field of view. You squinted, trying your best to keep track of him. But it didn’t do any good. His footsteps reverberated once again as he walked around the room. There was a faint creaking noise from what must’ve been the closet door, then the footsteps got the tiniest bit quieter and quieter until they stopped once more.

You had to take the chance while he was occupied searching the closet. Otherwise, they’d just come back to look under the bed. With your heart in your hands, you trembled as you inched out on the side furthest from the closet, getting ready to bolt. If you were lucky, you’d make it to the storage room. One deep breath, and you started to run like your life depended on it.

Except you didn’t get far at all. You reached blindly in the direction of the door as an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, then a hand clasped over your mouth to mute the absolutely terrified shriek you let out.

“Y’really thought I’d gone in the closet, huh?” they laughed from behind while you struggled for a moment. “Of course you’d try to run.” 

The rather violent thrumming of your pulse seemed to settle in his embrace. He moved his hand away from your mouth once you stopped flailing, and you heard fabric and rubber rustling as he took off the mask. You forced yourself to speak—in spite of the adrenaline still coursing through you, “I thought… I thought a chase would be more fun.”

His arm still around you skimmed low on your stomach before his other hand came to toy with the hem of your shirt, making you tense in excitement. “It would be fun, but we’re not in a movie. Can't make things that easy f'you,” he teased, along with placing a soft kiss to your temple.

You were thankful not to see whatever smug face he had. "You could've humored me a little bit." Your prep time felt like a waste, so you really wanted to put up a better fight.

He pulled you closer in response. The press of his body against you served as a crystal clear reminder for how your little game was meant to end. Eerily confident, his words took a moment to sink in when he began to push up your shirt, lips lingering at your ear to whisper, “Sorry, Angel. You aren’t ever getting away from me.”

[candyeager]

𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋

— gojo satoru x fem!oc

CHAPTER EIGHT 3.2k words

short synopsis. in which her marriage to Satoru Gojo, the world's most arrogant and untouchable sorcerer becomes both a chain and a cure. warnings. graphic violence, murder, blood mentions, disorder eating, implied sexual threats, suggestive themes. tags. gojo x fem!oc, arranged marriage, angst with happy ending, eventual fluff, heavy pining/yearning, emotional detachment. oc is an empath.

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Satoru

Satoru stepped out from beneath the veil, his pace unhurried as he made his way toward the nearby shrine. The moonlight spilled over the stone steps, casting long shadows that danced with the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. He could already sense the familiar presence waiting for him—a subtle, yet unmistakable trace of cursed energy that hardly needed further scrutiny.

As he approached, his gaze fell upon Mei Mei, standing with her back to him at the base of the stairs. Her long silver braid swayed lightly as she turned, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

"I thought I was being discreet," Mei remarked, her voice calm, almost teasing, as if the game of hide-and-seek had been a playful challenge to her.

Satoru smirked, his hands slipping casually into his pockets. "Yeah, not quite," he replied with his usual easy confidence, his eyes gleaming behind the dark sunglasses. 

"Your crows gave you away, but I figured I'd let it slide... until you started bothering my wife, Mei-san."

Mei tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening as her fingers idly played with the strands of her braid. "Oh? I didn't realize you cared that much about her." 

"Don't get it twisted," Satoru replied, his smirk widening just a bit, but his voice remained casual. "I'm just not a fan of people snooping around my business. Especially when they're getting paid to do it."

Mei chuckled softly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

"How much did they pay you this time to spy on her?" Satoru's question was more a statement than anything else, knowing full well the kind of person Mei was.

"Not much," she answered lightly, shrugging one shoulder. "But the clan elders are getting antsy. You've been ignoring their requests. You know how they are—they're dying to meet her, especially after... what happened."

The smile never left her face, but her words carried weight. They always did when she spoke of the Gojo clan's inner workings—something Satoru knew all too well. Mei herself was a distant relative, though her ties to the family had never been particularly strong. 

Satoru's gaze didn't waver, but his thoughts momentarily drifted. He knew what Mei meant. The elders—scattered across the four factions of the Gojo clan—had been pressing for a formal introduction to Kurai. They were curious, no doubt, about the woman who had left such a trail of blood behind her. 

Satoru's smile thinned, but the casual air never left him. "They're not going to meet her anytime soon. She's not ready for that."

Mei's eyes gleamed with faint amusement as she took a step closer, her voice dropping slightly. "Not ready... or not stable?"

For a brief moment, an image flickered in Satoru's mind—Kurai, her face twisted in fury as she relentlessly stabbed the training dummy. The raw violence in her actions, the barely-contained rage, had stirred something in him. It wasn't fear—he wasn't the type to feel fear—but discomfort, perhaps. Was she that unhappy? He almost pitied her, though the feeling was quickly dismissed. 

In front of Mei, Satoru's smile remained, the casual air never left him. "You catch on quick, huh?"

Mei smirked. "I did find what I was looking for." 

"That right?" Satoru's voice remained lazy, but his interest was piqued, though he wouldn't show it. "And?"

"She's... intriguing, Satoru."

Satoru chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "She's something, alright."

Mei's eyes glimmered, her smile turning just a touch more cryptic. "More than she lets on." 

She turned on her heel, walking away with a soft chuckle, leaving Satoru standing there, watching her retreating figure with a raised eyebrow. What was she playing at this time?

He didn't press it, though. With Mei, everything was always a bit of a game, and there was no need to overthink it. Still, something in her tone nagged at him, an irritation he brushed off as quickly as it came.

"Make sure you put in a good word for her," Satoru called out after Mei, his voice light, though his meaning was clear.

Mei's response was quick and predictable, her voice carrying back to him as she disappeared into the night. "As long as the payment comes through by tonight."

Satoru grinned, shaking his head as he turned away, walking in the opposite direction. Mei Mei was always easy to persuade—as long as you knew what currency she valued. And lucky for him, money was something he had in abundance.

Satoru slid the door to his bedroom open with a smooth flick of his wrist, the soft thud of wood on wood breaking the stillness of the room. As he walked, he tugged his signature blindfold over his eyes, fingers raking through his hair to prop it up in its usual tousled fashion. He was back in his dark blue uniform—zip-up jacket with a high collar, paired with matching slim-fit pants. The casual comfort of his break had been cut short by a call from the higher-ups. A special grade curse had appeared, and of course, they needed him—the strongest sorcerer—to deal with it. Just another day, really.

His footsteps were light as he made his way down the hall, but his attention was soon caught by a familiar figure at the entrance. Kurai was standing there, holding plastic bags filled with snacks, her arms clutching them to her chest like a dragon guarding treasure.

Satoru couldn't help but smirk at the sight. She looked... cute, in an unintentionally amusing way. Her tight grip on those plastic bags, as if to shield them from him, was almost enough to make him want to tease her—maybe pinch her cheek and quip, "I'm not going to steal your snacks, doll."

But then her recent threat flashed through his mind, "Touch me again, and I'll cut your hand off, you manwhore."

Amused, his smirk deepened, but he kept his hands to himself, realizing he couldn't afford to play around—he was on his way to work, after all. He shoved his hands into his pockets instead, feigning nonchalance.

"Quite the appetite you've got there, doll," he commented, his tone light and teasing as he approached.

Kurai's eyes flicked up to him, her expression unreadable. "Is that a problem?"

Satoru shrugged, grin widening.  "Not at all. I love a girl with an appetite." There was a playful glint in his voice, though somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered hearing from Yoshida that Kurai hadn't been finishing her meals recently. It wasn't his business, really, but seeing her stock up on junk food wasn't exactly reassuring.

Still, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he adjusted the blindfold over his eyes, sensing her attention shift toward his uniform.

"I'm off to a mission," he said, his voice still casual, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Kurai's brows furrowed slightly, though her tone remained flat. "Why?"

He tilted his head, amused by her question. "What do you mean, why?"

"Aren't you supposed to be on break?" Her tone wasn't accusatory or concerned—it was just factual, like she was pointing out something obvious.

Satoru's lips quirked upward, amusement lacing his words. "What, you miss me already?" His grin stretched wider as he teased, but when Kurai didn't react, he sighed. "There are some things only I can handle, doll. It's part of the job when you're the strongest."

Kurai didn't reply immediately, her eyes studying him. The silence stretched just long enough to feel heavy, and then she spoke, her voice low. 

"You say that, but your feelings suggest something else."

For a split second, Satoru's easy smile faltered. She was using her ability—sensing his emotions. Unease curled at the edges of his mind, but instead of showing it, he masked it with his usual charm. He groaned, dragging his hand down his face dramatically.

"Ugh, don't do that," he whined, his tone comical as he waved her off. "I don't appreciate people poking around in my head, thank you very much."

But Kurai didn't respond to his attempt at humor. She turned on her heel, walking away with her plastic bags in hand. As she moved, she threw a final remark over her shoulder, her voice almost a whisper. 

"Isn't it lonely at the top, Gojo?"

For a brief moment, Satoru's eyes widened behind the blindfold, just enough for surprise to flicker in his chest. Lonely? Was he lonely? The thought hadn't occurred to him—not really. But as her words lingered in the air, something deep within him stirred. 

He tried to brush it off, but the sensation clung to him, unsettling in its persistence. Maybe she was right. Maybe there was something lonely about being the strongest—about always being called upon, always being the one to handle what no one else could. But that feeling was buried so deep inside him that even he hadn't acknowledged it. 

The fact that Kurai could sense it so easily unnerved him. 

Satoru exhaled sharply, swiping a hand through his hair as he let out a long sigh. 'Damn it, this girl.'

Satoru sat on the cracked earth, the air around him still humming with residual cursed energy. His chest heaved, not from pain or injury—he was as unscathed as ever—but from the sheer effort of overusing his Six Eyes. He didn't mind it though. Reaching into his pocket, he lazily pulled out his blindfold and tied it over his eyes, letting the fabric rest loosely as his hand brushed through his sweat-dampened hair.

Three special-grade cursed spirits. Not one, like the higher-ups had said, but three. 

False report? Or deliberate sabotage? He scoffed at the thought. It didn't matter. If they were hoping to trip him up, they should know better by now. He doesn't lose. Even if it meant standing against the entire world.

Yet, as he stared out over the destruction wrought by his Hollow Technique: Purple, the vast emptiness gnawed at him more than he liked to admit. It was all too quiet now—too still. And that stillness... it gnawed at him.

Suddenly, Kurai's voice echoed in his mind, her sharp words like an unwanted truth slicing through his defenses. "Isn't it lonely at the top?"

'No, it's not.' He mentally scoffed, his lips curling slightly as if the thought itself was ridiculous. But who was he kidding? The sound of Kurai's voice stirred something inside him, something he had long buried and had no intention of facing. It wasn't supposed to feel like this.

For years, he had carried every burden—missions no one else could handle, enemies no one else could face—and he did it alone. He preferred it that way. No comrades to protect, no one to hold him back. He could move faster, fight harder, and think clearer when no one else was there to worry about. That's why he was the strongest, wasn't it? Because he didn't need anyone. He couldn't afford to.

But Kurai had sensed it. She had felt what even he had refused to acknowledge. And there was no denying it. She was right. 

No matter how stubbornly he tried to reject the truth, the subtle hum of her energy was always a constant reminder that things had shifted. His house was no longer just his sanctuary of solitude. She was there, always there, on the other side of the house. Her cursed energy had become a strange sort of comfort. A reminder that he wasn't coming back to an empty home.

But now... standing amidst the wreckage of another mission, here he was. Alone again. Truly alone. And for the first time in a long time, the silence felt unbearable.

He groaned, leaning his head back and dragging his hands down his face as if that could somehow erase the thoughts she had planted in his mind. This was her fault. Damn her and her empathy. If it weren't for her, he would've continued lying to himself, blissfully unaware of how deeply the loneliness had rooted itself inside him. He didn't need her pointing it out.

But now that the thought was there, it wouldn't leave. 

A soft rumble of an engine pulled him from his brooding. A car skidded to a stop not far in front of him, and the ever-nervous figure of Ijichi stepped out, visibly flustered as usual. His thin frame looked even more jittery under the weight of Satoru's gaze, or rather, the overwhelming presence Satoru carried with him everywhere.

Ijichi hesitated before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "G-Gojo-sensei! You... you handled it, of course. I'm here to take you back."

Satoru didn't move at first. He just sat there, his blindfold half-draped over his eyes, looking like he might just stay in that spot forever. His mind wandered back to Kurai's words once more. "Isn't it lonely at the top?"

Was it? The thought clung to him like a curse of its own. 

But Satoru wasn't ready to face that yet. He wasn't ready to acknowledge that she had managed to reach something within him that no one else had. His usual mask slipped back on effortlessly.

"Of course, I handled it," he said, his tone returning to its usual playful arrogance. He rose from the ground in one fluid motion, brushing the dust off his clothes. "But you're late, Ijichi. What if I needed a ride home sooner? Were you dozing off?" The teasing lilt in his voice was back, but his mind was still elsewhere, lingering on those words Kurai had left him with.

Ijichi flinched, as usual, fumbling over an apology. "N-No, I was just—uh—there was some traffic, and I—"

Satoru waved him off with a careless flick of his hand, walking past him toward the car, his long strides confident as ever, even if his thoughts weren't. "Yeah, yeah. Just drive. I need a nap. Or maybe a snack. Ooh, maybe both." He smiled under his blindfold.

But as Satoru leaned against the back seat of the car, Ijichi handed him an iPad. "G-Gojo-sensei, there's something you should see."

Satoru raised an eyebrow again but said nothing as he unlocked the screen. His casual amusement faded the moment his eyes landed on the image.

It was a woman—her face eerily familiar. Kurai's face, almost. But her hair was shorter, and there was a softness in her expression that Kurai never wore. 'This woman smiled.'

Satoru's usual cocky grin faltered, his fingers tightening around the device.

"That's Kurai-san's mother," Ijichi explained quietly, his voice trembling slightly as though he could feel the shift in Satoru's mood. "She... she passed away giving birth to her."

Satoru swiped to the next image—this time, it was a man. Ragged, haunted, wearing the traditional kimono of the Sanzu clan. The resemblance to Kurai was undeniable. His posture, his eyes—dark, hollow eyes—looked like they carried the weight of something unspeakable. 

Ijichi shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's her father... Arata Sanzu. He became the clan leader after his father's death, but there are... sources that say his mind was unstable. He began to lose his sanity after his wife's death... when Kurai-san was born."

Satoru felt a subtle, cold prickle crawl up his spine. His eyes narrowed as he continued swiping, this time landing on a medical report. The handwriting was nearly illegible, but the word "hallucinations" stood out clearly among the scribbles.

Ijichi cleared his throat. "I-I got that copy from a defected clan member who used to serve Arata. According to Arata's doctor, he suffered from severe hallucinations. Arata believed there was a... a devil's spawn in his house."

Satoru's fingers froze over the screen. Devil's spawn?

For a split second, he remembered something he had once heard from Osamu, the elder of the Gojo clan's East Faction, some nonsense about the Sanzu clan making deals with devils. He had dismissed it as the ramblings of a paranoid old man at the time, but now it stirred something unpleasant in him. The pieces weren't quite fitting together, but something about this was unsettling. He kept swiping, eyes moving quickly as though the next page might provide an answer.

Ijichi hesitated, the tension thickening in the air. "Arata... he claimed that he had tried various methods to kill the devil's spawn for years. But, um..." He swallowed, his nervousness palpable. "According to him, she was... unkillable."

Satoru's eyes snapped up, his voice deceptively calm, but carrying an edge of danger.  "What do you mean 'she'?"

Ijichi shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his hands. "T-The 'devil's spawn'... was actually his daughter. Kurai-san. He claimed she was cursed from birth. He tried to kill her—many times—but she survived each attempt. He... he didn't even realize what he was doing."

The air in the car seemed to thicken, pressing down with a suffocating weight. Satoru's grip on the iPad tightened, the screen creaking under the pressure of his fingers. His heartbeat thudded in his ears, drowning out the usual noise of the world around him.

He tried to kill her.

His mind spun. Kurai. Every inch of his being screamed against the idea, but the cold, hard truth stared back at him from the screen. Her own father had seen her as some sort of monster—something to be erased. A child, just born, and already condemned.

Cold fury seeped into him. It started low, a steady simmer in his chest, but it was growing—building into something uncontainable. His blood ran hot and cold at the same time. No one could see it behind his blindfold, but his eyes blazed with an intensity that few had ever seen before. He was rarely angry—not like this. 

But Kurai—his Kurai—had suffered through something he couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around. The strongest sorcerer, and he hadn't seen this coming. He hadn't even thought to ask about her past, to understand what kind of hell she had walked through before crossing paths with him.

And suddenly, it all clicked. Her coldness, her apathy, her near-manic bloodlust when provoked. It all made sense now. She had survived, over and over, through what should've broken anyone else. She hadn't been unkillable because of some devil's deal. She had been unkillable because she refused to be destroyed.

And now, as the truth lay before him, he felt something new. Not just anger. Not just pity. Possessiveness.

It wasn't the possessiveness that came with control, no. It was something deeper. Something protective. She wasn't weak—far from it—but knowing what she had been through, he realized she didn't need to carry that alone anymore. She wasn't just some convenient tool or a strange anomaly in his life. She was something else entirely.

And, for the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo felt out of control.

His voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of the storm inside him.  "Take me back, Ijichi."

Ijichi blinked, confused. "G-Gojo-sensei?"

Satoru didn't repeat himself. He didn't need to. The edge in his tone was enough. 

Without another word, Ijichi scrambled to start the car, and as they drove away from the scene of destruction, Satoru's mind was already miles away—back to Kurai.

She was stronger than he had given her credit for. Far stronger. And he'd be damned if he ever let anyone make her feel alone in that strength again.

< chapter eight ends >

taglist. @brailsthesmolgurl @osunism @junslay (comment below if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

© CANDYEAGER. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any other platforms.

[bokettochild]

I think it's sort of funny

When I learned about Gloom Hands, it was on tumblr, because I hadn't played TotK yet

But when I DID start playing, i remember I was seeking out shrines to complete and ran into my first gloom hand up at that one shrine that's floating just above the ground, where you have to climb a root to get up to it. And up over the hill, i saw this black and purple blob moving. Moving towards me

And my first instinct was to climb, climb high, and hope it couldn't get me up there.

It couldn't. I didn't even have to fight my first gloom hand, it just....evaporated out of frustration of not being able to grab me

and I sat up there for a while, thinking it was a trick and the thing would come back. And I sat and waited until i decided to risk it, dropping down and grabbing the weird new thing, but then hurrying back up to my hiding spot

Because people talked about the hands, not what they dropped, or that they disappear after a minute if they can't shake you like a doll.

And I don't think I ever actually got caught by the hands until I did the Deku Tree quest, where I honestly was so running out of ideas because sitting on a ledge and bombing them from above was getting me nowhere, so I willingly jumped in with them hoping it would make a difference (spoilers: it did not)

[todayintokyo]

It doesn't get more hide-and-seek than this! (Source for first photo, second photo.)

[blackkatmagic]

If ur taking Moonknight ships, Marc Spector and Steve Rodgers with mind control!

“Fuck you, that’s a lie,” Marc hisses, pressed as flat as he can get to the wall of the shrine that the Prince of Orphans led them to. The Mandarin was supposed to be here. The Mandarin is not here.

Scarlet Witch is, though, and it seems like she’s having one hell of a bad day.

Sprawled out in his throne, one leg crossed over the other and a dusty glass of something that absolutely isn't wine in his hand, Khonshu chuckles. “I would never lie to my knight,” he lies. “It’s the simplest way to break her control over him, my son. You asked for a cure and I've provided one.”

“Fuck you,” Marc growls, and ignores the look Clint is giving him from the other side of the small shrine. Clint knows Khonshu is real, or he’d better, after their detour into ancient Egypt that one time when the West Coast Avengers were still a thing. “Give me a different cure. A better one.”

Khonshu cocks his head thoughtfully, like that will hide the gleam of wicked mirth that swirls through the galaxies in his empty eye sockets. “That would require a quest seeking my sister-son Heka, my knight, and a remedy brewed by his divine hands. I don’t believe you have that much time at the moment.”

“If you depart your body now of all times,” Valkyrie tells him, low but very definitely dangerous, “I will tell your cab driver friend where you hid all of his false mustaches.”

Marc grimaces, ducking a little more as there's a loud crash, a thud, a groan. The Prince of Orphans lands hard on the stone, and Natasha drops down a few paces from him, breathing hard with a bruise already disappearing across one cheekbone.

With a loud, ringing thud, Steve’s shield embeds itself into the stone of the wall just to the left of the Prince, and heavy footfalls sound.

“Shit,” Marc mutters, and closes his eyes, ignoring the heavy weight of Khonshu’s amused stare. Breathes, steeling himself—

“Moon Knight,” Valkyrie warns, alarm sliding into her tone. “If it is that foolish an idea—”

“All of my ideas are foolish,” Marc tells her. "If he throws me across the room, try to catch me.”

“Moon Knight!” she protests, but Marc ducks away from her grab, vaults the wall, and then stops dead, something thudding in his chest. Steve is staring at him, looking dangerous as hell in the black of his old Nomad costume, even though no other man alive could probably pull off that V-neck. His eyes are red, though, and his expression is icy cold, in a way Steve would never be when standing in front of his own team. Whatever Wanda did to him—

Whatever she did, Khonshu gave Marc the way to fix it. It’s just a really fucking stupid fix.

“Moon Knight,” Steve says, and there's a rough, almost gravelly edge to it that makes Marc feel like a stupid teenager sneaking Captain America comics and fantasizing about them again. Him again. Which is absolutely not an appropriate thought to have when Steve’s currently a brain puppet of the Scarlet Witch during one of her breakdowns over her teenage kids getting pissy at her. Especially not given what Marc is about to try and do.

Steven would be better at this, Marc thinks, mostly resigned to getting punched in the face. Too bad Steven is a squishy human and Cap would turn him into a slinky.

“Hey, Cap,” Marc says, and tries to think of a way to say how about you let me get within grabbing distance without breaking my arms in a way that will go over well. “If Iron Man sees you walking around like that, you're going to give him the vapors.”

Steve’s expression darkens, and he flexes one hand like he’s imagining closing it around Stark’s neck. That’s a pretty standard reaction to Stark, though. It does give Marc cover to take two steps towards Steve, braced to move if things get violent, and he opens his hands, like an offer.

“Think you want a henchman?” he asks, and hears the bursts of indignation that come from four different directions as the team catches his words. Ignoring them, because Natasha is the only one close and conscious enough to be a threat if they decide to dogpile him, marc reaches up, pulling his mask off deliberately, and tells Steve, “Look, I don’t want to stick with these lunch detention nerd rejects if you're going off to do your own thing, Cap. I can be a good little right hand if you want me to.”

There's a pause, more thoughtful than before, and Steve finally turns, gives Marc his full attention rather than keeping one eye on Natasha and the Prince. “You want to be my henchman,” he says, flat, and the red light clinging to him like a second skin flickers, whirls.

“Henchman, goon, pet damsel if that’s more your speed,” Marc says, taking another two steps closer. He’s almost within arm’s reach now, and Steve still hasn’t tried to twist his head off his neck, so that’s promising. Probably. “I look great in a pink feathered negligée.”

Somewhere behind him, Clint gags pointedly, and Marc tries not to scowl, making a mental note to put ink in his coffee as soon as he gets the chance.

“Pink feathers?” Steve asks, and for the first time his tone slips out of cold anger, right into bemusement.

“I can lounge around your secret lair and let you test it out, if you want,” Marc offers, not even bothering to try for charming. Steven could manage that, but—yeah, Steven isn't going to touch this one. Besides, Steve seems blindsided enough by the offer that Marc steps right up to him, reaches out, and presses a hand to his broad chest without losing his head. When he looks up at Steve, halfheartedly trying to make it looking through his lashes like Marlene sometimes used to do to him when she couldn’t tell it wasn’t Steven in front of her, Steve looks down at him, something Marc can't read on his face, but—well. It’s not violent, at least. Marc got worse responses from other guys in the Marines, and given Steve’s from the 40’s, he wasn’t holding out much hope of better.

“So what about it?” he asks, leaning in, and Steve’s hand settles on his waist—

Marc kisses him, hard, no time wasted with finesse. He slams their mouths together, and feels more than hears the dry-bone-rattle of Khonshu’s laughter. Something burns, burns right through him and into Steve, as bright as the moon hanging full and round above them, and Steve jerks. His arm snaps tight around Marc’s back, and Marc braces to get tossed like a frisbee—

Instead, there's a groan, winded, warm. The kiss gentles, and a hand curls over Marc’s cheek, tips his head into an angle that’s a little less awkward. It feels a bit like an electric shock, and Marc twitches, almost jerks away, but…this is actually kind of pleasant. Not just awkward bodies, like sometimes happens, but—well. All those years spent crushing on Captain America probably have something to do with that.

Then, slow, gentle, Steve draws back, the shimmer of red around him gone. His eyes are sky-blue again, bright and familiar, and Marc takes one look at him, catches his breath, and says, “Fuck. Cap?”

Steve blinks, blinks again. Then, all at once, his eyes widen, and he says with deep relief, “Marc. You broke her control?”

“It was the image of the pink feathered negligée,” Marc tells him, flat, and desperately tries to jam his mask back over his head before something in his face gives away the whole I have a crush on the most unattainable man in existence thing. “You’re welcome. Thank Khonshu.”

“If I'm thanking Khonshu, I feel like it probably wasn’t that,” Steve says, and grimaces, putting a hand up to his head. “Ugh. I think I have a migraine.”

“Wanda’ll do that to you,” Clint says, cautiously poking his head above the edge of the low wall. “Moonie, did you really just break the evil witch’s curse with a kiss? Are you a fairy tale princess?”

“No, I'm Sailor Moon. And Wanda’s not evil,” Marc says, rolling his eyes, and drags his mask down a little more securely. “Shut up, bastard.”

Khonshu, still chuckling, tips his glass full of unidentified and unsettlingly-colored liquid at Marc. “You would make an excellent henchman, my knight,” he says, and is gone in the space between seconds.

“Damsel?” Natasha asks judgmentally, raising one red brow.

“Who wouldn’t want an easy retirement?” Marc counters. “If Cap wanted to take over the world, I think he could.”

Natasha weighs that for a moment, then snorts and waves in agreement, leaning down to check the Prince of Orphans.

“Please don’t ever let me take over the world,” Steve says, one hand still pressed over his eyes. “Even for the sake of your retirement.”

“Don’t look at me,” Clint tells him. “I look terrible in pink feathers. And my kiss can't break a curse.”

Marc flips him off, going to grab Steve’s arm and steer him out of the shrine. “Come on,” he says pointedly. “You should probably lie down. The birdbrain can handle getting everyone back to the ship.”

“While you play damsel? Come on, I can rock purple feathers—”

“Not as well as Moon Knight,” Valkyrie says, and between her and Natasha, they heave the Prince up. “Retrieve the good Captain’s shield, Hawkeye.”

Marc very firmly kicks the door closed before he can hear Clint’s protest.

Steve makes a quiet sound of amusement, body heavy where he’s leaning on Marc’s shoulder. “Do we need to have a talk about you offering to be a villain’s henchman?” he asks.

Marc rolls his eyes. “Only yours,” he counters, but instead of getting uncomfortable, the way he expects, Steve shoots him a thoughtful look.

“We should have downtime in Berlin once this mission is over,” he says after a moment. “I know you normally go back to New York, but you should stay. If you meant that kiss.”

Electricity, again. A frisson, sharp through Marc’s nerves, but—it makes breathing a little more difficult than it really should be.

“I could mean it,” he says, and looks away, feeling entirely too self-conscious. It was a bad kiss. Right up until Steve took over. “Assuming I didn’t scare you off.”

“I'm hard to scare,” Steve says gently, and—

Well. There's a fine line between supporting Steve and walking with Steve’s arm over his shoulder. Not that Marc is about to protest.

[takusan-no-ai]

Abysmal Curse

PAIRING: Jean/Ganyu/Kokomi x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: Their boyfriend, (Y/N), is an outcast because of a “curse”.

You were a normal young boy, having a good childhood. One day your friends invited you to play hide and seek. But it lead to you adventuring farther out, where it wasn’t safe.

You came into contact with the abyss and ever since then have been cursed. It was a pretty flower, yet it corroded your hands into something deadly.

Not knowing what happened you ran for your parents. They were at the fountain in Mondstadt. You grabbed your mother’s hand and she died in an instant, her entire body rotting before your eyes.

Since then you were given gloves out of curtesy, but ostracized from society. Your father, friends, everyone abandoned you; the only person who didn’t was Jean.

Everyone called you a curse. A misfortune that will one day destroy Mondstadt. But Jean didn’t believe any of it. She listened to your story and sympathized, wanting to heal your trauma.

She didn’t care for the dirty looks she got, and even convinced her sister Barbara to “cleanse” you at the church so you’d be accepted somewhere; better than living in the cold forest.

Life isn’t easy, and yet Jean will always be there to make everyday a little better. She promises one day the world will accept her boyfriend; perhaps making you a knight should be the first step?

A disgraced being corrupted by the abyss, your existence has been tantamount to a bad joke. There wasn’t a good thing about you; a man who was born immortal thanks to Rex Lapis, but because of the Abyss, slowly kills all life surrounding him the worst his mood gets.

Being young, you weren’t aware of such a curse. Until at Liyue Harbor you got into a fight with another kid and threw a tantrum. The whole block was sick for weeks and BuBu Pharmacy was running low on supplies.

But that kid died. Then some elderly. And eventually your one tantrum killed ten people. As much as it saddened Rex Lapis, your existence proved to be dangerous, and so he banished you. But you agreed with his judgment.

You sheltered yourself far away from society in Liyue, where no one’s life would be at risk because of your tantrums. Your constant switching moods didn’t help, and soon your sanctuary became a wasteland.

You’d think it would scare off others, but Ganyu wasn’t always the most normal person in society. She’d heard of your life from Cloud Retainer, and although different, it reminded her of Shenhe.

She couldn’t help herself and started to care for your wellbeing. Comforting you when life was tough, helping you find ways to control your emotions, and loving you. It was a shock for her, but she quickly embraced the love she had for you.

Ganyu really wants society to accept you but she knows just how impossible that will be. Instead she introduces you to Xiao, saying you can help him eradicate evil from the shadows. It’ll take a long time for you to be accepted, so she hopes the legends of you can bring some light to your goodness.

When you were a young boy Miko found you outside her shrine. Immediately she recognized you as a yokai: Zashiki-Warashi. A creature that visits homes and can bring good fortune, but leaves horrid misfortune when it leaves the home.

Miko took care of you over the years; she made sure you were never allowed into a home for your own safety. However news of a good fortune yokai spread in Inazuma thanks to some eavesdropping kids, and soon you were captured. Brought over all across Inazuma, misfortune following every house you went.

You finally found refuge in Watatsumi Island. There the abductors were arrested and dealt with swiftly by General Gorou, who later introduced you to Kokomi. They tried to convince you to live in a proper house, but you constantly denied.

Eventually you had to tell them you were a zashiki-warashi, and that if you ever left your house a great misfortune would consume Watatsumi Island. Naturally, this lead to many of the residents wanting you gone. Throwing stones at you, shouting vulgarities, just the tip of the iceberg.

However Kokomi wasn’t pleased with that decision. Sure, your existence may be potentially dangerous, but you didn’t choose to be. So she arranged for you to “live” at her special place, where she reads books on military strategies.

It was there that a bond formed deeper than either of you expected. She loved to unwind with you, your playful spirit being a nice distraction from work. Kokomi even absentmindedly writes about you in her diary; he’s so cute this, handsome that, strong, sweet, smart, ect.

You found it and asked Kokomi if this was her bizarre way of giving you a love confession, to which she promptly snatched the book and “died” of embarrassment. She died even more when you agreed to being her boyfriend.

- Fin

[munchmemes]

hozier lyrics, hozier (expanded edition)

❛  i should've worshipped them sooner. ❜

❛  we were born sick. ❜

❛  the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you. ❜

❛  i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

❛  good god, let me give you my life. ❜

❛  there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin. ❜

❛  it's toying somewhere between love and abuse. ❜

❛  no more alone or myself i could be. ❜

❛  [i/you] lurched like a stray to the arms that were open. ❜

❛  i lay my heart down with the rest at [your/their] feet. ❜

❛  i wonder if it's better now having survived. ❜

❛  i'm so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ❜

❛  no better version of me i could pretend to be tonight. ❜

❛  [they/you] found me just in time. ❜

❛  cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt cause i never felt young. ❜

❛  it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometimes. ❜

❛  we tried the world and it wasn't for us. ❜

❛  you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

❛  would things be easier if there was a right way? ❜

❛  honey, there is no right way. ❜

❛  i fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new. ❜

❛  there's an art to life's distractions. ❜

❛  love with every stranger, the stranger the better. ❜

❛  all i've ever done is hide. ❜

❛  when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel ike a person for a moment of my life. ❜

❛  but you don't know what the hell you put me through. ❜

❛  it feels good to be alone with you. ❜

❛  there are questions i can't ask. ❜

❛  now, at last, the worst is over. ❜

❛  i know that you hate this place. ❜

❛  there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree? ❜

❛  there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. ❜

❛  innocence died screaming. ask me, i should know. ❜

❛  there's something broken about this but i might be hoping about this. ❜

❛  we'll lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand. so still and discreet. ❜

❛  i'd be home with you. ❜

❛  any way to distract and sedate. ❜

❛  i'm somewhere outside my life. i keep scratching but somehow i can't get in. ❜

❛  don't you stand there watching me, won't you? ❜

❛  don't you join in, you're supposed to drag me away from it. ❜

❛  i'm so full of love, i could barely eat. ❜

❛  [they/you] are sweet as can be. [they/you] give me toothaches just from kissing me. ❜

❛  no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to [them/you]. ❜

❛  you never asked me once about the wrong i did. ❜

❛  [you/they] would never fret none about what my hands and my body done. ❜

❛  if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have you and you would have me. ❜

❛  why were you digging? what did you bury? ❜

❛  i will not ask you where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

❛  just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do. ❜

❛  i know that look, eyes always seeking. ❜

❛  i will not ask you why you were creeping. in some sad way, i already know. ❜

❛  you know better than to smile at me like that. ❜

❛  i know who i am when i'm alone. ❜

❛  you don't understand. you should never know how easy you are to need. ❜

❛  don't let me in with no intention to keep me. ❜

❛  it can't be unlearned. i've known the warmth of your doorways. ❜

❛  i'll find my way back to you. ❜

❛  my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs. ❜

❛  screaming the name of a foreigner's good is the purest expression of grief. ❜

❛  i feel no control of my body. i feel no safety in [your/their] arms. ❜

❛  all that i've been taught and every word i've got is foreign to me. ❜

❛  it looks ugly but it's clean. ❜

❛  your fight and fury is fiery. ❜

❛  it's worth it, it's divine. i have this some of the time. ❜

❛  you called my name til the fever broke. ❜

❛  i heard a scream in the woods somewhere. ❜

❛  i turned and ran to save a life i didn't have. ❜

❛  i need you to run to me. run to me! ❜

❛  when i was a child, i heard voices. some would sing and some would scream. ❜

❛  don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash. ❜

❛  you've done me wrong for a long, long time. ❜

❛  after all you've done, i never changed my mind. ❜

❛  please, try to love me. ❜

❛  my love will never die. ❜

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of been thinking about are all the various dynamics that Big Mama seems to have with the Hamato Clan.

Leo: Just the spider I was coming to gloat to.

Big Mama: I am not one to be outmanoeuvred my turtle boo. Well done. 

With Leo it almost seems as though Big Mama has possibly been set up as a foil for Leo, with Leo being the member of the Hamato Clan that was able to outmanoeuvre Big Mama in the episode 'Many Unhappy Returns' & was able to see through Big Mama's deceit in the episode 'Bug Busters'.

Something that I have seen a few people talk about are the possible parallels between Big Mama & Leo as they are both able to twist situations into something in their own favour, however they also contrast each other as Big Mama seems to be primarily motivated for her own gain while Leo is motivated by trying to keep his family safe.

Splinter: From you, as we tangoed the night away.

With Splinter, Big Mama has a complicated history as exes, with Big Mama having betrayed Splinter's trust & forced him to fight in the Battle Nexus however their relationship also seems slightly more complicated in the fact that they possibly seem to still have some kind of feelings for one another as in the episode 'The Ancient Art of Ninja Hide and Seek' it's shown that Big Mama kept a photo of them & Splinter went to retrieve the photo & towards the end of the episode 'Battle Nexus New York' Splinter attempted to save Big Mama from the Shredder & in the final episode of Rise, Big Mama did seem to help the Turtles find where the Shredder had taken Splinter & Draxum.

Big Mama: We both know my train is the only way to secretly move your cargo to the shrine.

Draxum: And I’m paying a heavy price for not asking questions

With Draxum, Big Mama has been portrayed as both a sort of rivals Draxum having originally taken Lou Jitsu from her in the episode 'Goyle, Goyles, Goyles' & Big Mama has tried to use Draxum's oozesquitoes for her Battle Nexus in the episode 'Bug Busters', however they are also kind of portrayed as bussiness partners as well as in the episode 'Insane in the Mama Train' Draxum was also the one who gave Big Mama the orb she needed for her Battle Nexus New York plan & Big Mama was the one who gave Draxum the opportunity to transport the Dark Armour creating the impression that Big Mama & Draxum will work together if it benefits them but will double cross each other if there is more to gain.

Something I kind of wonder about however is what their dynamic would be like after Draxum's redemption.

Donnie: I have only one question. How dare you?

With Donnie their dynamic seems to be Donnie showing a dislike towards Big Mama whenever they interact with each other whether due to Donnie still holding a grudge over Big Mama trying to use him & betraying his trust in the episode 'Bug Busters' or that Donnie is simply just generally upset at everything Big Mama has done to his family but something that I think is kind of interesting is that Donnie might possibly be the Turtle that almost kind of seems to show his dislike towards Big Mama the most out of the Hamato Clan.

Big Mama: You did your part so I will do mine

Something I also kind of think about is Big Mama's Assistant being one of the missing Turtle siblings meaning Big Mama kind of technically raised a member of the Hamato Clan which kind of makes me wonder how it would affect Big Mama's other dynamics with the rest of the Hamato Clan if they knew who Big Mama's Assistant was.

Raph: Heh.. uh… H-Hi..Big Mama.

Big Mama: Hello turtley boo

With Raph when Big Mama interacts with him in the episode 'Raph's Ride Along', Big Mama seems to act amused towards Raph while Raph seems to act nervous around her, this could possibly be due to what was going on during the episode however this could also be a glimpse into their dynamic of Raph possibly being intimidated by Big Mama due to knowing that she is dangerous & Big Mama simply being amused by Raph as she doesn't seem to view him as a threat to her.

Something that I kind of wonder about is what Big Mama's dynamic could have possibly been like with Mikey & April if we could have seen them interact properly with each other.

[blues824]

Since requests are closing soon today, can I have the demons and lords of Black butler reacting to a female character like Douma from Demon slayer please. Thank you

Ciel Phantomhive 

Of course he has heard of you, but Sebastian has already told him that you were a demon rather than a ‘child of the gods’. The fact that you had a cult following in a predominantly Christian time period was very mysterious to the young Phantomhive lord.

So, he asked his butler to seek you out. It wasn't too hard, considering the demon knew that your kind could only go out at night. Plus, you weren’t exactly trying to conceal your location. What neither demon nor lord expected was a pile of bloody bodies near the shrine, nor you with a bloody mouth.

You even seemed to be smiling, which Ciel found to be quite annoying. However, he was smarter than that and he could see the nothingness in your eyes. Then, you decided to fight back against his butler with your golden fan, and you landed a few deep cuts. Unfortunately, Sebastian held you down as the young Phantomhive questioned you.

This time, your face was solemn. You told Ciel that you didn’t regret killing the people in your cult, which he was not surprised at. You explained that you were apathetic and couldn’t feel any emotion at all, which made everything make a lot more sense.

Sebastian Michaelis

He was very intrigued by your type of demon. Typically, his own kindred would devour souls rather than flesh, but your kindred needs it to survive. In addition to that, you have a rather large cult following for someone who lives in a predominantly Christian Victorian era.

Once his master had given the order to search for you, he already knew where you were. You weren’t trying to hide, but it was this very fascinating game of chase. Eventually, he did find you beside a pile of bodies, presumably belonging to your followers. You had lovely eyes and a charming smile, a move that Sebastian himself utilized from time to time.

In your battle against him, he was a bit surprised by the amount of skill you had with your razor-sharp fans. Paired with your blood demon art, you definitely put up a challenge for him. Your fight ended up more like a dance, a graceful one at that.

The moment he pinned you down, you knew it was over. Your smile had disappeared as you confessed to your actions. However, Sebastian didn’t care about you eating humans. In fact, he preferred your company over the useless bags of flesh even though he had only just met you. The two of you could tell that this would lead to something much more than just the spark you felt.

Alois Trancy

He very much wanted to meet you, especially after he heard your name whispered at one of the many balls hosted by the Queen. You were rumored to be a ‘child of the gods’ because of your eyes and powers. Now, he wanted to gaze upon the rainbow-colored irises to really see if the rumors were true.

So, as a result, he ordered Claude to capture you. It was no easy feat for the butler either, considering you were well-versed in fans and your blood demon art. You put up a good fight, and Alois was a bit worried that the demon he was contracted to wouldn’t be able to complete the task assigned to him.

Once the demon butler finally pinned you down, Alois forced you to confess to what you did. You weren’t smiling as you were before, as you admitted that you had eaten many of your followers. Your face remained neutral, not portraying sadness or guilt. No, you were sadistic just like the young Trancy lord.

Alois took the chance to really look into your eyes, and he knew that he wanted them. So, he offered to hire you lest Claude gouge your eyes out as an alternative. Your smile was back on your face as you agreed to become one of his few servants. He took your hand as he led you back to the manor.

Claude Faustus

There were two types of demons in this world: your kind and his kind. Both like to cause trouble, but his kind only likes to devour souls while your kind likes to eat the entire human. When he heard the rumors, he already figured that you were a flesh-eating demon.

Alois ordered your capture, and Claude already knew where you were. He could sense the entire pile of mutilated bodies as he got closer to your location. Then, there you were, standing with your golden fans out. You already knew he was coming.

As the two of you fought, you had a smile on your face as though this were a game. This only served to make the butler more angry. This little dance of yours went on for about 3 hours before he finally pinned you down and ordered your confession to the crimes you had committed.

Your smile dropped to a more neutral glare, as you stated that you had no grief as you couldn’t feel any. Well, he whipped out a napkin and held your face still to clean off the somehow still-fresh blood off of your mouth. Both of you could tell that this wasn’t the only time you would be meeting.