#twice-dead king: ruin

[smaller-comfort]

[minweber]

“Man, I’ve been banging on about The Wicked and The Divine for a couple years now, maybe it’s time to actually check out The Twice Dead King, I hear it’s also pretty good…”

…

[magistralucis]

Still can't get over Djoseras's character arc. Heroically tragic, morally invalidated - structurally genius, since we rediscover him at the same speed Oltyx does, layer by layer as he peels his deceptions away. There is something deeply unhinged about the way Djoseras saw life while he himself was alive, in a way the standard necron contempt towards organics can't match.

He's merciless. He's loving. He's a rival, he's a mentor, he's untrustworthy. He's the best brother Oltyx could have had. He's a mirror for princes. Most of what he says is wrong, because he does not know better, or a lie, because his princehood is an unwilling burden and has become a fundamental dishonesty. He's a terrible DJ. His best friend was his enemy. Spiritually he has joined his brother in exile, setting himself apart in the landscape closest to Sedh their crownworld has to offer. His malice is almost entirely in Oltyx's imagination. He wasn't thinking about how wrong he was about everything 'since [he and Oltyx] spoke in the desert'. He's actually been thinking about it since Oltyx got exiled, spending hundreds of years carving apologies upon his own soldiers. They're even less capable of protesting whatever he brings upon them than they would have as necrontyr. They're not the people he destroyed, and not the people who can grant him forgiveness. If they could throw aside their hierachies and see one another person-to-person, they wouldn't owe him a damn thing, and he knows that and it kills him which is just as well because Oltyx killed him too.

His best-lived self belonged entirely to Oltyx. And Oltyx forgot about him, twisted the memories into something he was not, and he locked Djoseras away where neither he nor his elder brother could reach until it was too late. (Though the moral teachings kept leaking out, like pus from a wound.) Djoseras was already dead from the moment we saw him in the desert. In a way, he too is a 'twice-dead king', except he never wished to be a king and so he just keeps dying and dying until there's nothing more of him left to die. But they're necrons. They're all dead. They don't change, they never come back, only Oltyx can come back and not in a form commonly acknowledged as necron. Djoseras would've had a hard time without being as inflexible as he was, but that was the path he chose and broke like iron he did. There are not enough tears in the world

[bloodkrieg21]

I have started to listen to twice dead king ruin, and I thought like an idiot. No way can it be better than the infinite and the divine. But I was wrong.

[panicbones]

MANNNN I LOVE NECRONS SO MUUUUCH

[snakegirllovehandles]

Holy shit I'm reading Nate Crowley's Twice-Dead King: Ruin and this conversation between Oltyx and Djoseras is about to bring me to fuckin' tears.

How the hell has the some of the best fiction I've read in years been from a couple of novels about the frigging Necrons!? First The Infinite And The Divine, and now this? Different authors, fine writing!

I can't remember the last time I read such an emotive conversation, and the participants are effectively Terminator knockoffs! Fuck!

[dongtopus]

Shout out to Djoseras. No context given.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Say “Thank You”

Tags: Sukuna x Fem!Reader, nsfw, mdni, spanking, degradation, humiliation, a hint of cockwarming as a treat

An: guys… he was supposed to be a mean ruthless king who is a little obsessed with you, but i accidentally made him fall in love with you 😭

Swat!

Sukuna loves the way your ass recoils with each firm slap he gives. It was a shame that you were so obedient and good for him because good god, he loved seeing you bent across his lap all whiny and ruined as your fleshy bottom started to grow red from the repeated punishment.

“Say it.” His low, gravely voice demanded.

“Thank you-!” You forced yourself to reply. You knew that if you said it too quietly, he’d spank you twice as hard.

“Mmm..” He hums in satisfaction from your obedience. His hand lightly caresses the skin as it was starting to sting. He realistically knew this punishment was overboard for the “crime” you committed.

You and Uraume were in the kitchen together, and you two were cooking Sukuna one of his favorite lunches. Anytime you two cooked together, you used it as a time to gossip and vent about Sukuna since he’d rather drop dead than walk into a kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, this time Sukuna was looking for you. He had checked everywhere in his domain. You were nowhere to be found, and you were so caught up in your gossip that you didn’t hear his calls of your name.

He’d rather drop dead than walk into a kitchen, but he did it to find you. It was fucking worth it too.

If he wasn’t so clouded with worry anger, then he would’ve taken his time to admire your facial expression.. the way your eyes got all big and puppy-like. Your eyebrows were knitted together, your lip trembled when he found you in that kitchen.

“I’ve been calling.” He huffed out as his lips twitched into a snarl.

“I am so sor-“ You start to apologize, but he grabbed your wrist and tugged you to the throne room so abruptly that you didn’t finish your worthless apology.

He sat down on his throne, and he yanked you over his lap with your bottom high up in the air. He then tugged your annoying skirt and panties down, exposing your ass for all of those who dared to look.

“Suku-“ You start to try to plead with him, but he was quick to cut you off.

“After each spank, you are to tell me thank you, got it?” He instructs lowly as his hand cups and massages your pillowy cheeks. His mouth involuntarily waters at the sight. He rarely ever got to punish you. This was like a treat for him.

“I got it.” You whimper out as you hide your face in his thigh, trying not to think about how every curse can see you in such a vulnerable position.

Swat!

Sukuna was barely using a fraction of his power to spank you, but it was enough for your body to jolt forward from the impact.

“Thank you.” You say lowly as your hands grasp onto his thighs. You silently hope to yourself that the king is feeling generous today.

After each loud blow, you thanked him for punishing you. Your body was trembling as your cheeks were now burning red and slightly swollen from his hand. His hand prints decorated your bottom, and it was making him feel feral.

What was even worse was the way your body trembled in his lap… how your words of gratitude slowly grew whinier and breathier. Oh, and don’t you think he didn’t notice the way you were squirming and trying to grind against his lap and hand.

You were getting needy, and he knew it.

“Fuck. Such a naughty girl.” He coos as he rubs on your ass, kneading into your skin.

“N-no, I’m good-!” You plead in such a whiny tone.

Slap!

“Thank you.” Your voice was so weak. You were now thanking him out of habit. He had truly conditioned you to he grateful for his punishment.

“How can you be good when you’re all exposed on my lap for everyone to look at you? You look like such a slut right now.”

His hand wooshes down and connects with your bottom once more, eliciting a cry from you. “Thank y-you!”

His cock was rock hard, pressed against your body as you were bent over.

“You like this, don’t you?” He lowly growls as his hands rub the irritated skin on your bottom. He had been so mean to you today. You likely didn’t deserve half of the spankings you received, but he was so intoxicated by the sight of you taking the punishment so well.

Swallowing harshly, you meekly nod your head. You crane your neck up and over your shoulder to look at the king of curses. As soon as his eyes met yours, he actually looked… off kilter.

His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes were slightly wider than usual. His lips were somewhat agape. He looked enamored by you.

There was something about seeing your face, your watery eyes and blushed cheeks.. the way your lips were bruised, and you had such a needy look in your eye.

Humans would describe Sukuna is feeling as love, but the king of curses knew that he didn’t feel anything of the sort. He couldn’t. Curses don’t feel that way. Love is useless. This isn’t love.

No. This is limerence.

He slips his hand between your thighs, and he drags his fingers between your slippery folds as he gathered your slick onto his fingers, making you shudder. He then popped his fingers into his mouth and let out a satisfied hum as he sucked your juices off of his digits.

You always taste so sweet, like a forbidden fruit. He wanted to corrupt you from the inside out.

He delved his wet fingers back between your thighs. "Is this what you wanted, slut? You wanted my fingers inside you, didn't you?" He taunts as he shoves his pointer and middle finger into your wet heat forcefully.

Your eyes widen, but you can't help but to arch your back for him. A pleased smirk curls on his lips as his entire arm and hand starts to move, repeatedly filling you with his fingers right there on his throne where anyone could see you.

"Su-kuna.." You quietly whimper as you bite your bottom lip, trying to mask any noise that dared to bubble up.

"That's not my title, brat." He reprimands as his other hand reaches over and plants a firm smack right on your plush cheek.

"M-my lord! B-bedroom." You tried to cry out, but you could feel yourself growing addicted to his fingers. He could see it too.

"Nah. I'm fine right here. It seems like you are too." He denies as his fingers curl inside of you, searching for that special spot.

He knew he had found it when you tried to bite back a moan. "There. Got you." He brazenly declared, and he began roughly finger fucking you, hitting that spot each and every time.

You weren't seeing stars. No, you were practically begging god not to take you then. You could see heaven, and it was the only heaven you'll ever see after letting the King of Curses ravage you like this on his throne.

Sukuna gently spread his fingers, prepping you for what's to come. You're already dizzy in the head just thinking about it.

Undoing his robes, he pulls you up so you’re no longer bent over his lap, and he turns your body facing away from him.

Your warm juices of arousal were already leaking all over his lap. “Messy girl.” He casually comments with a laugh as his hands wrap around your hips. His sharp nails just barely digging into your flesh as he lifted you up.

You can feel his tip prodding near your entrance, and you can’t help but whimper and whine. Curses and servants are just walking past you two and working around you two as if nothing was happening.

“S’kuna- w-wait..” You try, but he’s already got a taste of your wet heat. He can’t stop right when he’s getting to the good part.

“You’re wearing my patience thin. I didn’t ask for you to speak.” He grumbles from behind you in a warning tone.

Your poor little cunt was clenching around nothing, so desperately begging to be fucked by him. He pushes his tip past the ring of muscle, and he lets out a deep groan. Meanwhile, you’re practically clawing at the arms of his throne.

“Fuuuuck, what are you so tight for?” He muses as he brings one of his hands around the front of you. He’s careful to rub your delicate clit without scratching you with one of his nails.

Your body is such a traitorous thing. You’re so embarrassed to be taken so blatantly in front of others, but your hips can’t help but try to move, fucking yourself on his tip for christ’s sake.

“Impatient, needy little human, aren’t ya?” He taunts before applying a bit more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Oh well, it can’t be helped.” He smirks as he uses his other hand to force you all the way down his massive length until your warm sticky walls were gripping all of him.

“F-fuck-!” Your nails dig into the side of the throne, and tears spring into your eyes involuntarily. It hurts so good, leaving you fluttering around him.

“Language, pretty thing.” He smirks as he hugs your body from behind, pulling your back to be flush with his chest. “Just be still for me. I’ll give you what you need soon enough.” He coos in your ear before his tongue gently licks the shell of your ear.

“T-too much.. can’t take it-!” You whine as your body is trying to adjust to the intense pressure inside you. You swear you can feel him in your stomach.

“Shhh, your whining helps nothing. You can and will take it.” He hums as he just holds you to him. Sukuna is a patient man. He waited a thousand years to conduct a plan. He can patiently sit inside your drooling cunt for as long as you need him to.

His hands gently pull up your shirt, revealing your breasts for everyone to see. Your nipples were hard from all the stimulation going on, causing him to just chuckle in response. Your body was truly his little play thing.

He’s gently when he cups the soft pillowy flesh, and he gropes you gently. His mouth connects with your sensitive neck, and he sucks pretty blue and purple marks into your skin, loving how easy it is to mark you as his.

His thumbs just barely brush against your nipples, causing you to clench around him tightly.

“M-my lord.. please.” You gasp, needing him to fix the aching deep inside you. You couldn’t even be bothered to care about the audience.

“Oh? That sounds more like it, princess.” He praises as he carefully grinds his hips back and forth. His cock is barely moving inside you, but his tip is deliciously rubbing against your g-spot.

Your legs are almost an immediate trembling mess. It’s almost too easy for him. His hands slowly trail to your thighs, and he holds them open for anyone to come and watch your pretty cunt and tummy bulge from his cock.

His movements were so small but precise. You could barely hold your eyes open as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. Your hands were propped against the arms of his throne. You were completely succumbing to the pleasure he was providing.

“Thereee we go.” He drawls in your ear. “Not so mouthy and disobedient now, aren’t ya? I just gotta remind you of whose pussy this is every once in a while, hm?” He taunts in your ear, and you nod your head shamelessly. He’s truly molded you just the way he wants you: a pretty little fuck toy.

Your cunt was practically creating a puddle from the constant stimulation from his cock. Your dripping all over his cock and thighs, but Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind at all. He fills the throne room with soft squelching noises with each shallow thrust as he kisses all along your neck and shoulder.

“I love you.” The words — even while slurred - fall from your mouth clear as day. You’re so hopelessly devoted to him, seeing him as a true deity rather than a king. How could you not feel full of love for him while he’s being so caring with your body?

Sukuna’s hips stutter for a moment, completely caught off guard from your declaration of love. Usually, this wouldn’t bother him because he never felt anything in return, but right now…

He clenches his jaw, and for the first time in a long time, he can feel his heart thump madly in his chest. His arms wrap around tightly, and he fucks himself into you deeper.

He’s been giving you lazy thrusts for long enough. You deserve more. Small grunts escape his throat with each time his hips snap upward, filling you up completely.

“Ohh~ fuck.. r-right there-!” You whine, tilting your head back against his shoulder even more, exposing your throat.

Sukuna thrusts harder, desperate to please his plaything. His eyes are watching your face — so beautifully twisted in pleasure. He immediately feels himself getting close just from looking at you.

“I’d go to the depths of hell and break into heaven for you. It- ngh fuck.. terrifies me just what I’d do for you.” He clumsily grunts into your ear. A love confession.

It’s so raw and full of emotion paired with his deep passionate thrusts — you’re immediately spasming on him, milking his cock with each clench.

With a low growl, he’s spilling into you, shooting thick white ropes of cum deep inside you.

His arms carefully snake around you, hugging you to his body as you both come down from your highs. Your hearts beat as one. Maybe… maybe he could learn how to love.

[mochiwrites]

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

Scar never believed in it, not after dying twice, both times having been caught off guard. He didn't have time to reflect on the life he'd been leaving behind, not when everything happened so fast, not when to Scar it was like blinking before he was surrounded by total black.

But as he lay in the sand, letting the wind sweep over his weakening body, he starts to look back. He starts from the beginning, from setting Etho's tree on fire to pulling Grian into the desert on Pizza. He thinks of his second death to the ravine, how Grian's scream had been the thing to accompany him on his brief journey to blackness. He thinks of holding Grian in his arms as they celebrate a successful trap, or their hours spent digging a bunker.

Scar thinks of their ruined home, the place he'd always return to.

It's funny, how different this death feels to the other two times. Maybe that's because there's no coming back from this one. This is it. This is the end for Scar. His final breath.

He stares up at the big beautiful blue sky, and there is no longer any red to cloud his vision. If he had any energy left, he'd probably smile. All he can muster is the smallest twitch of his lips, blood drying on his chin.

A shadow fills his vision, and Scar has just a few seconds to see Grian's bruised face enter from the corner. He sees tears welling in those red eyes, one or two rolling down his cheeks as he picks up Scar's fading, cold body, pulling it tight to his chest.

Scar wishes he could reach out, he wishes he could press his palm into Grian's cheek and tell him not to cry. He much prefers it when Grian is laughing, when he's smiling. It suits him much better than this guilt ridden expression. Why are you crying? He wants to ask. You won! Scar is happy he won.

"I'm sorry Scar," Grian shakily whispers into his hair, his wings wrapping around the two of them like a shield. Scar isn't sure what he needs to shield them from, not anymore. The ghosts? Surely they aren't interested in this. In them. "I'm so sorry."

It's to Grian's warmth that Scar fades away, eyes fully shutting as he finds he's lost the energy, the will, to keep himself alive. Scar's purpose is complete, Grian is alive and well, and that's all that matters to him. He's okay with saying goodbye.

He joins the living dead, nothing more than a spirit.

He returns to the image of Grian hugging Scar close, yet as a ghost. His body is see through, he is no longer a corporeal being. Even as a ghost, he's returned right to where his heart and his soul rests, he's returned to his home, to his Grian. Scar doesn't question it. Of course he's ended up back here, back to the other half of his heart.

Grian had said once that everything in their story was dead.

Maybe it was just Scar being an optimist, but he liked to think that their story didn't have to end in death. Maybe it had just been Scar looking to a life after this, where there will be more laughter, more pranks and joy, more warmth shared. Scar liked to think that they were in control of their narrative, that not everything was dead, because they were alive.

But looking as Grian grieves over Scar, he wonders if Grian had always thought they were dead from the start.

As a ghost, Scar is forced to stand there as Grian rises on shaking legs. "Just one life left," he says, and Scar's nonexistent heart leaps to his throat.

"Grian, stop," he pleads, but his voice is nothing more than the breeze of the wind. He's helpless, unable to reach his partner as he takes slow, agonizing steps toward the edge Monopoly Mountain, right beside Pizza's grave. "Grian," Scar begs. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

Drops of blood fall from Grian's bloodied knuckles, staining the sand below. He walks toward the edge, and Scar follows, trying to reach out to him. Yet his hand phases right through Grian's back, never making contact.

Scar's heart breaks.

What else can the king of death do but watch his ever faithful knight follow him to where he should not?

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 1: A Walk In The Forest With The Devil

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

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Heir - Public Memory Feral Love - Chelsea Wolfe

* * * * *

Prologue | Chapter 2

* * * * *

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

Considering the situation you faced, it fits perfectly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beauty is the last thing on your mind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock, knock, knock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You flinch.

Don’t touch me.

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

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

The smile you force in response is like bitter poison.

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

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

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

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

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

Knock, knock, knock.

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

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

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

Time to go.

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

"Father!" Your voice rings out with urgency.

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

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

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

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

Then you hear the sound of flesh tearing under teeth.

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

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

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

Finally, he stood to his full height.

Massive. He is massive.

Even from this distance, his intimidating presence was unmistakable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this my bride?" he drawls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bad luck? This entire cursed nuptial was bad luck.

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

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

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

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

How can you possibly charm this thing?

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

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

“Lord Sukuna, my name is—”

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

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

"My Lord?" you manage to grit out.

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

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

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

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

Oh, how you want to cut him down.

“My Lord, I would—”

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

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

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

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

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

You gag.

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

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

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

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

You exhale.

What just happened?

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

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

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

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

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

"Father?" your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

Your throat constricts as you swallow hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time to confront the monster yourself.

* * * * *

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

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

You exhale.

Should I call out to him?

“Lord Sukuna?” Your voice echoes.

Silence.

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

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

With each step, you delve deeper into the forest.

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

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

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

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

He’s here, and he’s watching you.

Your heartbeat quickens.

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

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

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

Tightness knots low in your belly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How old are you?” he probes.

“Twenty-five,” you reply quietly.

“Hm.”

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

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

You clench your fists.

“Of course.”

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

A sharp ache seizes your chest.

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

Deeper into the forest. Closer to the shrine.

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

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

He looms large and solid. A huge target.

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

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

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

End this before it even begins—

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

No!

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

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

A serious crease forms above his nose.

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

“Well, no, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your skin bristles.

“What? No. That’s not it at all.”

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

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

Irritation and embarrassment flush your face at the intrusive question.

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

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

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

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

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

Fear worms its way into you. 

Looming into your face, his breath washes over you.

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

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

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

A heartbeat passes.

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

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

He scoffs.

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

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

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

You take a small step back.

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

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

You step back again.

He moves closer.

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

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

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

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

He’s ravenous.

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

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

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

You tense, eyes snapping to his.

Shit.

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

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

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

Don’t panic. Do not panic.

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

Sukuna bends, lowering his head next to yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stills. You swallow.

“What are you do—”

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

“There you are,” he hisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head swims dangerously.

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

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

After a moment, he makes his move.

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

“Already?” he chuckles.

Already what?!

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

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

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

Another harsh tug makes your whole body tremble uncontrollably.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please. Lord Sukuna,” you rasp.

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

Your breath catches in your throat.

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

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

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

“Please—”

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

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

“I’m—I’m going to—”

Your words fade as your vision blurs.

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

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

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

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 2

[ju-nebugg]

moments from trb that make me lose my mind (pt. 1)

- “‘gansey’…it was a real voice spoken from someplace almost too far to hear” and blue’s voice on the digital recorder being “not a whisper, but a loud cry from almost too far away to hear”

- ronan’s pet names for adam (runt, poor boy, science guy)

- every time gansey says something wild but it’s given a very gentle descriptor

“what fresh hell is this?” gansey asked pleasantly.

“prison,” gansey said agreeably.

- “what’s ashley?”

- monmouth being called a “dreamer’s laboratory” like UGH

- declan’s voice being a voice that “explained the safety procedures of this 747 we’re flying in today”

- noah’s first goddamn line of dialogue being “i’ve been dead for seven years.” these boys are so stupid <3

(whelk thinks later that “czerny didn’t really have a sense of humor. he just sometimes said things that happened to be funny”)

- RONAN FUCKING LYNCH PLAYS TENNIS?????

- “[ronan’s] code of honor left no room for infidelity, for casual relationships. it wasn’t that he didn’t condone them; he couldn’t understand them”

- all of their little mannerisms (gansey rubbing his lips, ronan chewing on his bracelets, etc)

- president cell phone <3333333

- “ronan had picked off all his moving-dolly scabs, and he would have picked off adam’s as well if he’d let him”

- ronan and his tender, loving relationship with foul language

“ronan released a string of profanity so varied and pointed that gansey was amazed that the words alone didn’t slay declan”

“it was a long, involved swear, using every forbidden word possible, often in compound form…there was something musical about ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together”

- gansey trying to stop ronan from fighting declan by saying “you’re ruining your face”

- “he’s your dog, gansey. you leash him.”

- “when ronan was hit…he became so urgently present it was as if he’d been sleeping before”

- gansey momentarily thinking ronan was dead in the church, and that “his corpse woke now only because gansey had commanded it to”

- blue imagining her dad watching her proudly when she sits under the beech tree

- ronan studying latin so intensely as if “his life depended on it” HUH WONDER WHY

- glendower “the king” being described in gansey’s journal as being buried beside “his cup, filled with possibility” + “look at all the potential she holds in that cup. look, she even looks like you.”

- ronan “Captain Frigid” lynch and adam “Trailer-Park Boy” parrish

- “why don’t you let ronan teach you to fight? he’s offered twice now. he means it.”

- “‘i don’t have a brother, ma’am,’ adam replied. but blue saw his eyes dart to gansey.” OH MY GODDDD

- gansey picking the page of cups TWICE before picking the death card.

- calla saying that ronan is creating, and blue responding with “he’s pregnant?”

(pt. 2)

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

what 40k books would you say are at least a 7 out of 10?

Twice Dead King: Ruin + Twice Dead King: Reign. Ghazghkull Thraka: Prophet of the Waaagh! The Infinite and the Divine. Assassinorum: Kingmaker. The Fall of Cadia. Night Lords: The Omnibus. Word Bearers: The Omnibus. Spear of the Emperor. Gaunt's Ghosts series. Titanicus. Fire Caste. Apocalypse. The Lords of Silence. Harrowmaster. Brutal Kunnin. The Lion: Son of the Forest. Da Big Dakka. Warboss. Eisenhorn: The Omnibus. Ravenor: The Omnibus. Day of Ascension. Watchers of the Throne series. Vaults of Terra series. Fabius Bile trilogy.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!

Ygraine please?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Ygraine had wanted children. She'd imagined a great big family, raising the prince and princesses of Camelot to be warriors and scholars, entertained the thought that she might even give birth to a sorcerer, someone for Nimueh and Gaius to argue over and train. She imagined a Camelot where the highest offices in the land where held by brothers and sisters, united in the love she would instill in them that the petty fights over power would not tear at the next king like it did Uther.

An optimistic view, perhaps, but she'd grown up so close with her brothers that it had seemed not only possible, but probable. She had chosen Uther and her brothers had groaned and complained and picked up their swords and fought for Uther, fought at her side and at his and had never looked back. Because a choice made by one was a choice made by all, so united and determined they were to be more than the parents that had raised them.

She had not considered how that love could sour, how that devotion could bring ruin rather than salvation.

“Tristan is dead,” she repeats, as if that will make it more real and less horrible. Her own death is sad, and Arthur growing up motherless is its own special kind of grief, but her eldest, beloved brother dead not a week behind her is a hell that she’d hoped to never have to endure.

She blames Uther for much, but she can’t blame him for this. If Tristan had really believed her death his fault, when he’d never liked Uther much himself, he would not have stopped until he had Uther’s head. She believes that Uther tried to calm him, to stay his hand, if for no other reason than their shared love of her. But as terrible as Tristan’s death is, as her death will be, leaving Arthur an orphan would be a far greater crime. He should have known that.

“I’m sorry, your majesty,” Gaius says softly.

She pushes down the pain. She will see Tristan again, of course. She will return to her own time, to have the next king of Camelot, to give birth to a boy with her eyes and hair and her skill with a blade, and she will see her brother alive again.

Changes cannot be made. Must not be made. Have not. What has happened shall happen and any attempt to change that will only mire the last few, short years of her life in misery. She will embrace her brother and kiss Nimueh’s cheek and must say nothing of their devastation that awaits them.

“I must speak to Agravaine,” she says.

Agravaine’s devotion had been quieter, his actions sly and his humor dry, but his love no less powerful.

Gaius hesitates. “Your majesty, that may not be the best idea. Losing you once was difficult for him. To lose you twice-”

“I must speak with him,” she says, sharpening her voice to a tone that Gaius has always known better than to question.

Uther is in danger. Perhaps even Arthur is too.

Tristan believed that Uther was responsible for her death and that his life must be forfeit because of it.

A choice made by one of them is a choice made by all.

[magistralucis]

i have obtained the him... oltyx

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Fandom Observation Funny tags: One Piece The Emperors & Crew

Due to character limits, the funny tags post has had to be broken up into multiple parts

This part contains the tags for the Red Hair Whitebeard, Blackbeard, Big Mom, and Beast Pirates. Plus Cross Guild. Enjoy because you guys really outdid yourself

The Red Hair Pirates

Benn Beckman: "Dilf," "retirement blorbo", "Benn Beckman is a religious experience", "to me? beckman is the character with the most sex appeal ever. raw sex appeal. I would [redacted] if I met this man. just sayin", "He can ruin my life any day of the week", "Also lest we forget pre TS Beck a++ quality right there I just want someone smart who will also hit a guy with a gun is that so much to ask for", "This p**** wants what she wants and its always going to be Benn “back breaker" Beckman", husband material, "men are like wine in order to get a good vintage you want the one that's aged", he had that sexy blind and reckless loyalty about him", "Beckman is a fine aged vintage of wine as men should be", "DEAR GOD the things I WOULD DO to that man LIKE [redacted] and [redacted] because [redacted] and [redacted]", "idk how to explain it but he's so wife", "benn beckman? more like benn breastman ok sorry yeah anyways. said it before and ill say it again beckman exudes raw sex appeal like jesus christ. why would you not want to fuck this man ive had lesbian friends who said he would be an exception to them which is so real his tits are big he loves his captain he STUBBED HIS CIGARETTE IN A MAN'S EYE UNDER THE GUISE OF DEFENDING HIS CAPTAIN so fucking sexy mwah mwah beckman my wife you are so hot SO HOT. in conclusion benn breastman you will forever be a top sexyguy in my head oh also forgot to add. he canonically gets bitches which is so real. he could get me any day", "Oh dear I just realised I have a thing for older men with grey hair and have substance abuse issues I choose to believe lung cancer does not exist in opu", "Live action Benn looks like that one uncle no one wants to invite to the family reunion but has to anyway because the grandparents insisted” “Benn Fine Fucking Vintage Beckman cannot believe OPLA boxed that fine ass wine what were they thinking I'd happily spend hundreds of dollars for Becky but no they had to pawn him off as a cheap $20 boxed wine probably powdered and needs to be reconstituted yes i am that bitter this was the only bad casting call they had in S1 never forgive never forget” “I honestly loved that they made beckman just some guy you could pass on the street and not look twice at in the live action but… he's definitely not hot” “really I think mid-40s is the sweet spot for Beckman#hair is kinda salt-and-peppery; not quite black but not quite silver I cast my vote for pre-ts bc I didn't think he'd get enough votes and I like the way he looks” “I bet he's hiding a Special kind of Sea King in his pants too” “DAMN RIGHT ! my man is PACKING !” “ He should demand child support from Rayleigh because if it weren't for him, Shanks probably would have ended up dead of his drunken stupidity a long time ago under his watch. He only lost one arm, and that's because Shanks ran off by himself and was left unsupervised for 5 minutes. That's not Benn's fault.” “

Shanks: Margaritaville Himbo, "Dilflicious", "the deadbeat malewife wifi user", "I am a whole lesbian but if there were a butch girl version of these men I would let shanks ruin my life", "favorite guy in the local frat" He's probably a walking STD risk but he's hot and I'm a slut that has a thing for red heads, "the unwashed bitch", "LOOK AT THAT SCRUFF ON SHANKS the three scars on his face that smile", "my Scrungle drunk bastard", I would volunteer to be his next baby mama you know shanks got a few a dozen red haired children all over the grand line tell me I'm wrong" “early shanks is perfect in my heart he's a rapscallion!!! he looks like he giggles,” “Post Time Skip Shanks is a daddy Live action shanks feels like a goofy dad/uncle,” “ In sorry but shanks looks like markiplier” “sorry shanks your ex husbands winning this one” “I think Shank's actor is WAY hotter as a brunette” “seriously though la shanks looks like a wet rat even more than his anime counter part” “I'm voting shanks he's just so… what a dream of a man. you know?” “shanks can’t be hot his good looks don’t make up for his personality” “shanks because he would make a good dad had his ass been able to keep kids” “Shanks having the least amount of votes is actually breaking my heart it's okay Shanks I love you” “confession i lowkey dislike shanks MOTHING AGAINST HIM PERSONALLY but like the fandom treatment of him he is EVERYWHERE and does NOTHING until the wano flashbacks (his most screentime untill egghead) i did not care about him sorry” “heh lol eat dirt Shanks (this user has nothing against Shanks except that he's always beating her faves)” “shanks sweep! idk anything about one piece other than i want to fuck him probably other stuff too” “why is shanks winning. basic ass website” “still going feral over shanks” “how many times must shanks make that cheap copy bite the dust” “after this weeks episode my hot for Shanks is at an all time high sooooo👀👀one arm daddy wins this time” “dejectedly picks shanks because at the end of the day i am a fag with problems i like my men horribly unwell” “He's the biggest fuckboy to ever whore about the grand line” “Shanks got absolutely everything from Rayleigh. Swordsmanship, haki mastery, a knack for epic entrances, ugly pants, bisexuality, and a slutty, slutty lifestyle across the Grand Line. Sorry to Roger, but the kid clearly took after the other father.” “'m shocked Beckman hasn't put that boy on a leash yet oh im damn sure beck has put that guy on a leash ifykwim” “Some of us are just complete sluts, and we're totally okay with that. I'm fully self-aware, and I totally would volunteer to be Shanks's baby mama. People have been talking about the implications of devil fruits in the bedroom. I want to know if Haki has bedroom misuses.” “I would volunteer to be the maid, especially if it comes with a cute slutty maid outfit. I bet Shanks would go feral for that, and again, I'm self-aware that I'm a total ho. Plus, I wouldn't care as long as I'm getting railed by the Daddy Emperor of the Sea every night” “Dorky Shanks my beloved” “HE CANONICALLY GETS BITCHES i genuinely think only cavendish has been shown to get a bigger amount of groupies (female that is) (sanji got the whole of the g5 but thats another story) anyway my point is shanks is the most fuckable one piece character and has been since day one he was raised by silvers fucking rayleigh what else could he have turned out to be” “least my failman Shanks came in second” “

Yasopp: “VOTE AGAINST YASOPP PLEASE cause that man deserves nothing... >_> if yasopp has no haters im dead”

Cross Guild

Buggy: Assigned clown at birth, walking disaster, "my pathetic sniveling wet clown", my Beloved, "he has blue hair and pronouns", Failboy, "the skrunkly clown", "my clown wife", "he has that fail boy cringe", "buggy has the stronger levels of foolishness and fumbling his way to success", "the cringefail clown extraordinaire buggy", "he is silly and pathetic like a bisexual divorced dad",“WHY? WHY ISN'T HE WINNING? nobody here understands anything” “ know the op poll guidelines say to be kind and now belittle others for their opinions but fucking seriously ARE Y'ALL BLIND y'all have no taste none whatsoever i am ashamed and appalled vote for buggy god damnit VOTE FOR THE CLOWN the VERY HOT IRRESISTIBLE BABY GIRL CLOWN” “buggy is prettier if that makes sense#look at those lashes!” “yall dont get buggy like i do i fear” “live action buggy is succhhh a freak hes so incredibly hot its almost distracting from his greatness” “voted live action but goddamn did impel down buggy make me confused it's the scruff and the gorgeous ponytail” “YEEEEESSS buggy the clown ImpelDown!Buggy HOTTEST BUGGY yes yes yes FUCK YEAH impel down buggy i wanna manhandle that stupid disillusioned cruel manaiacal idealist clown by his beautiful ponytail i would ruin that stupid clown your honor i love him” “Out the way flame boy I’m bout to get that clown cock” “watched 4 whole episodes of one piece for buggy” “BUUGGGGYYY sorry he makes me feral” “Buggy was robbed.” “Ok so Buggy is a wet pathetic loser who fails upwards and somehow gets exactly what he wants in the worst way possible” “He came the closest to killing Luffy before Kaido. He has so much negative rizz it circled around to most eligible bachelor. Crocodile and Mohawk use him as a punching bag. He's Shanks's The One That Got Away” “Oh and he can detach his dick (and hands, and head, and tongue…)” “i dont go here but why does everyone wanna fuck the clown i dont understand l” “where are my clownfuckers at buggy is hot as hell don’t let society tell you otherwise he is literally THE sexy gender-nonconforming loser with blue hair and pronouns” “

Crocodile: desert daddy, Babygirl, "He's like if tony soprano was trans", crocodaddy, crocomommy, Big titty mob boss, He's 8ft tall and I would let he ruin me,"Mr. Sandman", "the human sandcastle," "literally has sand in his britches", "son of a beach", "World's Most Expensive Sand Sculpture", "he's got 99 problems and his hook is one of them", "casino blorbo", "I would subject myself to sandburn any day for THE SIR FUCKING CROCODILE Anakin Skywalker don't go here because I WOULD love sand if it was like 8 feet tall and had a voice like that absolutely rabid he could stick his sand in so many places and I'd thank him crocodile is one of those guys i wanted to hate so bad and then went actually no i want this guy carnally Crocodile has some weird rizz goin on and i need to climb that sandcastle", "I'm so sorry but I need to eat crocodile's pussy", "With Sir Crocodile you can have Sex on the Beach. Literally. Plus he owns a casino so you could probably sip on the cocktail version too...while getting some cocktail.", "mafia vibes and style", "crocodile's got style. class. you will be wined and dined in the most exquisite way you can imagine", "He's got DADDY vibes", " One handsome mafia boss", "I love crocodile but also i wanna punch him and i feel like hes got the sandiest pussy/dick that shit will give me a rash", "my evilest baby boy", "Crocodile invented evil trans swag just saying", "im sorry az but crocodile was my dilf awakening", "in Crocodilf we trust", “i want crocodile to put that out on me” “those rings on his big fingers are the icing on the sandy cake for me” “You can throw me into horny jail all you want but Toei did not do Crocodile any justice, manga Croc is fine as hell, a handsome middle aged sonovabitch and I swear to god by the time I'm done with him that man will be pregnant again” “He's a trans desert king and I love him. I have no other defense” “What you would get is a 8'4" dom with a cool ass style(dude had a whole outift change in impel down just cause LOL). Anon is so right tho, he really is a bond villian type huh? That's a great description ngl 😂” “Big tall sexy transmasc, need I say More” “croc is my virgo king I MUST choose him” “Mr. Sandman is very handsome despite turning into beach herpes. Look if glitter is craft herpes then sand is beach herpes” “

Mihawk: The Vampire Pirate, Goth Dad, the sword father, Pirate Dracula, the big titty goth husband, "I think mihawk would treat you right. i want mihawk to treat me right", "I love his gay wine uncle energy", "I appreciate that he dresses Like That everywhere extra ass bitch", "hot vampire cowboy pirate", Morticia Addams, "Mihawk oozes 'step on me' energy", “ow wow i really don't like mihawk in the live action i mean he's great and funny and terribly camp and reminds me of snagglepuss so i guess he fits a tumblr hotbod to a t!” “mihawk has the most ridiculous moustache known to man” “live action Mihawk was so my type in looks it was like a personal attack” “see if it was a picture of his slutty pants i might have voted for mihawk” “queuecifer” “seeing them side by side. you gotta give credit to the live action. thats just the same dude” “sorry this time it's the la the mustache just looks so much more ridiculous in live action and i love that a man who deliberately and on purpose cuts his facial hair like that is someone i have GOT to bang immediately” “dracule EASY” “everybody likes the fucking twink the most” “see, for me the reason that mihawk is hot is because he'd totally be a pillow princess which means that i'd be able to either 1) ride his face till i pass out, 2) ride his dick till i cant walk, or 3) fuck him till i cant walk. he also has cute eyes and is 'working for' one of the stupidest men to ever sail the seas” “idk man what can i tell you. dracule mihawk vampire sexy” “mihawk my beloved ❤️” “ My autistic goth dad who doesn't know how to use an air fryer”

The Whitebeard Pirates

Ace: "Depressed sunshine orphan boy with daddy issues", "ace has that grungy line cook riz you know he lays legendary pipe", " he got goofy older brother swag", "Beautiful butch dyke wife", "Ace my greasy fire narcoleptic king", "The narcoleptic babygirl", the greasy crusty desert rat. "He would be worth the burn risk", "my favorite fire donut", "something about greasy alabasta ace hits so different", "with his riz he's probably a walking STD risk but it would be worth it. Just look at him probably also probably got a couple bastard kids running around the grand line", it's ok he's still greasy in my heart worlds most feral baby boy he looks like he eats dirt I could fix him (force him to bathe regularly)" “ace has to win every* time he’s LITERALLY FIRE *excluding cases where the opponent is a similar if not more incendiary material” “i am but a sheep i voted ace bc he is my cinnamon apple” “I mean, literally? Ace. Guy's literally made of fire, course he's the hottest.” “this is a trick question obviously it's Fire Fist Ace who can literally turn into fire” “Ace is automatically hottest because he's made of fire.” “ace brainrot is real rn I clicked him so fast” “pfffftt ace's about to be put six feet under again the way he has more votes than the rest combined” “freshly made donut straight from the fryer” “ace is so hot he melted a hole is his - i mean my - heart. he's so hot that he can touch lava and live- i mean he can touch lava. Once. ace is so hot that he turned into a funeral pyre!!!!! ace is so hot his brothers had to get burned just compete ace is so hot he took fire fist literally!!! he took that phrase right to the chest!!! ace is so hot his necklace melted right off of him. ace is so hot everybody just HAD to watched him get fisted on live television. snail vision? Idk okay im done now maybe” “Ace my special little greasy fucked up guy!!! traumatized twunk who may have rabies but it’s ok” “sorry i have to vote for my greasy rat husband ♡” “I see my guy. I vote for him. simple. anyways vote Ace” “ace obliterate this man” “greasy dumpster fire man gotta get the vote” “ace my love my darling my greasy stoner sweetiepie mi chacalito hermoso the light of my life and my blunts” “

Marco: Bird daddy "Mr. Dr. Emotionally-Stable Scrungles", "surfer hippy electric blue glasses wing flapper", "DR. MMMMM", Fineapple" “Marco my favourite little bird. (/∀＼)” “Marco, my love, my darling bird, you won't win - but that's okay, cause you'll always be my 1 <3 /blushes like some little school girl/ don't look at me right now I'm being lovey dovey” “Ah, my sweet bird, you're in a poll with a lot of really hot guys, but that was still an easy vote for me <3” “MARCOOOOOOOO he's a very mild “hear me out” but he's one of mine nonetheless” “Marco!!! everyone sleeps on my favorite old man birb but that’s ok I know the truth” “marco the phoenix also im losing my mind at his talons” “Oh I would be so grateful for some love for my well-toned and taloned retirement blorbo <3” “pls vote marco he's insanely hot” “

Izou: “the things I would do to get izou to shove his gun up my ass…” "Izo is absolutely my type.” “DUDEEEE IZOU PRETTIEST MAN ALIVE IZOU genuinely i would take izou over ace <- unpopular opinion but oughhhh. he. I” “

The Blackbeard Pirates

Blackbeard: “i find Blackbeard so fucking attractive for reasons not even i can explain” “The thing is, who's those 1 percentage that vote for Blackbeard like fr what did you see??😭” “blackbeard wins by virtue of being the sole bhm here. i know he did all those other things but its fine. its okay.” “

Catarina Devon: "my problematic lesbian sugar mommy”

The Big Mom Pirates

Amande: “lowkey obsessed w amande she was soooo cool for the seconds she was on-screen 🥲”

Big Mom: “kinda unfair that Linlin got a picture of her milf phase” “young big mom has to be cheating. voted for her anyway though” “young Linlin is fine as hell tho so she takes it” “you used a picture of YOUNG big mom so yeah it's her hot damn” “

Cracker: "if Cracker just let his hair down he'd be unstoppable i fear", "get wrecked cracker", "I am so curious about the people voting for cracker let me study you please", "cracker getting murdered as expected", "you can't do my biscuit husband like that", "i find cracker really hot"

Daifuku: “power dresser daifuku leads look at those padded shoulders”

Katakuri: "I'm a monsterfucker at heart", "Katakuri is literally so good man he's a family man #he's badass he's got a great sense of honour you know I had to go for the mochi man", "donut king", "KATAKURI MY MOCHI MONSTER TEETH KING CHAMPION HUSBAND THAT I WOULD CLIMB LIKE A MOUNTAIN #I'M ALWAYS ON MY CLIMBING AGENDA WITH MY ONE PIECE KINGS!", "i just know this man would treat me right we love kata", "Kata definitely ticks that hot box" “my giant self conscious doughnut loving beloved” “I could fix him I swear” “To clarify, Katakuri is sixteen feet, eight and a half inches tall. Let that sink in.” “I must defend the donut man” “

Perospero: ”lololol you guys are wrong like look at Perospero what that tongue do😏” “Perospero looks like a dog whose front teeth have been removed and I can't unsee that”

Praline: “ok everyone i'm gonna need a praline sweep RIGHT NOW shes simply perfect”

Smoothie: "ah...smoothie....or as i call her... one piece tsunade Imaoo", "ultimately my desire to be crushed by Smoothie's thighs won out", "SMOOTHIE. THANK YOU mommy long legs... gauhggfghgh......i want her to juice me pleeeeaaaseeeeeeeeeee /silly", “no lady in this poll is prettier than Smoothie. She's got them fine legs that go for days.” “SMOOTHIE MY GIRL U MAY NOT PULL THRU BUT YOULL ALWAYS BE MY FAV” “

The Beast Pirates

Black Maria: “i’m absolutely terrified of spiders but black maria EASILY”

Kaido: "beefcake beast of a man",

King: "King is literally the most beautiful OP character you can't change my mind", "Gotta chose the melanin yknow", "king is so ajdhjdjdjchjd bark bark bark bark", "I saw King and decided he is my blorbo", "king of my [REDACTED]", " I know he's like 20 ft tall and I'm probably the size of his d*** but it would be worth it. I would gladly choose death by snu snu for one night with him" “king is the source of the uhhh. govt weapon fuel source aint he i feel like that gives him hot dominion also: sexiest” “have y'all already forgotten how everyone's brains short-circuited when king's face was revealed shame on you” “its king. no contest no question. i am a slut for a brown man w long hair and i know this about myself” “im a lesbian but king honestly” “king cake IS my favorite kind of cake i'm very proud of that one” “honestly i think king might be the hottest guy oda's ever made” “I mean when king took off his mask for the first time I said out loud 'oh my god he's beautiful'. So.” “I think you’re forgetting that he’s a dark-skinned anime character. We don’t get a lot of those, so they get lapped up like an oasis in the desert” “he dick woudl rip me in half, and that is not something i am interested in’ COWARDICE” “my acearo ass would climb this man like a fucking tree” “Nahhhh this man is a delicious chocolate milkshake 🥵💕😍 I'd climb that 20 foot tree like my life depended on it. Yeah the dinosaur fruit is kind of 🤷‍♀️ but oh well!  That skin, that hair them black fluffy wings are everything. He's so handsomee plussss I'd love to run my fingers through that long hair 😍💕” “His face is carved by the angels themselves” “I need king to **** ******* ****** ***** *** **** **** ** ****” “haha u funny. fire...anyway its King when u simp over someone from One Piece and find out theyre 20 ft tall” “right off the bat king is my fourth pick here. it's a three way time with the other three sorry king he's just. like he's very pretty yes but there's a difference between pretty and hot king is just pretty. ur not winnin today buddyboy” “

Solitaire: “SOLITAIREEEEE GUYS I SWEAR SHES SO FINE IM IN LOVE W HER SHE CAN CHOKE ME W THOSE 6 ARMS I MEAN WHOSAIDTHAT”

[alishaaxo]

im sorry but i can never be a lyanna stan guys.

just lemme explain.

obviously this is only if she willingly went w rhaegar

To begin with, the situation in its simplest form is that Rhaegar and Elia are married, amicable yet not in love, and Rhaegar runs off with Lyanna, causing chaos to ensue amongst the realm.

Even if no war occured and everything was fine, how can Lyanna try to justify running away with a married man, especially on the way to her brothers wedding which feels very selfish, even if Brandon didn’t want to marry Cat, like she still ruined their wedding day.

Not to mention, that running with Rhaegar meant that shes inserted herself into his marriage which is Elia’s place. How nonsensical it is to run away with a married man and somehow marry him!

There’s two routes people go to justify it, and I’ll explain why I think they suck:

1) E-R-L is a polygamous marriage: This is not appeasable to the realm at all! Nobody will accept that. The only reason Aegon+Rhaenys+Visenya were accepted was because they were conquering Westeros, and like you can’t say shit about the guys conquering you!! Also the Targs were on thin ice then, and Maegor also tried, and look what happened afterwards!

2) E-R was annulled and R-L are married: I don’t think this is reasonable at all. Considering that Rhaegar is only HEIR, just like Daemon, for example. Both wanted annulments and both need the permission from the King and/or High Septon, but also considering how the likes of Aegon IV couldn’t annul his own marriage, do you really think a measly heir could?! At least in Daemon’s situation, he had no children, but as Aegon IV and Rhaegar both had kids (Elia giving birth twice in 3 years) theres no grounds for annulment, and it would disinherit his children potentially anyway, or even start a second Dance. As soon as you have a second wife, whether polygamous, annulled or dead first wife, war will be almost inevitable between the potential heirs.

Also Ik its not possible.. but can we stop with the E/R/L shipping in a serious manner (crackship is fine but in canon is 😐)

Like genuinely thinking mid-20s Elia would want to romance a 14 year old girl, would be fine with her husband romancing said 14 year old, or join in together, is so crazy to me. Like, yes Rhaegar is very much in the pedo-realm but why would Elia also follow suit??!

And like not to be a huge Robert Baratheon stan here (i hate GOT era him) but you can’t deny that it is the rebellion+it’s repercussions on his life, that change him so heavily into this twisted abusive, pedo man. He was not a great guy pre-rebellion, he slept around, was loud and rowdy, but I feel like you can’t really say that Lyanna somehow predicted that he would be this abusive evil man, tbh it seems like she just disliked his promiscuity which is valid, but in doing the same to Elia, her point gets invalidated in my eyes.

Also next point is the age-situation.

Now i know that obviously in a real life situation, a 14 year old girl is at no blame for the groomer actions of the adult…. however just look at how GRRM perceives this. like not as an “oh medieval girls married at 14, its fine” because they were still mentally children… but i mean how GRRM perceives relationships akin to R-L and characters by Lyannas age in ASOIAF-verse.

Ok so GRRM thinks R-L is romantic, which means that the groomer undertones aren’t necessarily meant to be there, and its meant to be more of a Romeo-Juliet situation (which heavily fucked over Romeos girl Rosaline ie Elia). He also believes Dany-Drogo and San-San is healthy, so I don’t think age heavily affects characters romantic feeling and actions much then.

Then if we see character Lyanna’s age, they’re treated as adults (yes some do have child impulses but overall adults). You have Robb acting impulsively like a kid, but ultimately being treated as an adult and being killed. I feel like even though they have kid impulses, they’re meant to get adult consequences for their actions.

Also ages as a whole is fucked up in ASOIAF in comparison to real world, like you have baby Rickon Stark going feral in Skagos, you have 3 year old Joffrey Velaryon/Strong squaring up to Aemond, and you even have 11 year old Benjicott Blackwood being an absolute beast of a warrior when in the real-world, he’d be just a kid, useless in defence.