Tumgik
#why are there so many tags for this thing
k-is-for-potassium · 3 days
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all of this is /j and /lh!!
edit: just realized thay capitalization's not a thing on tumblr whoops. that explains why i haven't seen it on here tho lol
also how did 0.3 of you choose it if it doesn't exist that's like 15 thousand and oh my god how are there this many of y'all
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maxverstappendefender · 19 hours
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ain't no love in oklahoma // op81 smau
description: twisters actress!reader x op81 but lando is convinced oscar is lying (from request)
a/n: sorry for being completely inactive. life happened and it didn't happen in a good way! i have a huge exam coming up soon so i will most likely still be inactive besides maybe a few short things here and there. anyways first oscar fic so enjoy! all pics found on pinterest, i don't own any
a/n pt2: might do something fun for each day in october but im not sure what so send me some ideas. also might do some more headcannons/blurbs soon here!
requests: closed but feel free to send me some messages since i love talking to you guys
masterlist
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liked by oscarpiastri, glenpowell, and 2,927,641 others
youruser: go see twisters!! if you don’t, you suck and you better hope you don’t get stuck in a tornado because there’s useful information in our movie
tagged: glenpowell
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oscarpiastri: proud of you!!
↳ youruser: 🧡
glenpowell: caption is so real of you
user1: doesn’t yn have a boyfriend? why is she so close to glen?
↳ user2: yes but probably because there’s limited space. yn isn’t like that
↳ oscarpiastri: exactly what user2 said
landonorris: cute!
↳ user3: what are you doing here??
↳ user4: lando in the comments?
user5: such a good movie
user6: yn + glen = power duo
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,951,750 others
oscarpiastri: proud boyfriend award goes to me 🏆 thx for all the bts selfies
tagged: youruser, glenpowell
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landonorris: i just laughed out loud
landonorris: “boyfriend” lmaooo
↳ user7: i cant tell if he’s joking or serious
user8: cutest couple ever
glenpowell: aww so glad you remembered the time you took me to the aquarium, what a romantic!
↳ youruser: get your own boyfriend capybara
↳ user9: yn CLOCKED him
// lando’s phone//
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//
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liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 4,027,835 others
landonorris: POLE BABYYYY!!! everyone ignore my teammates instagram posts, i have told him to stop. i think he took a hit to the head or something
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oscarpiastri: do you want to go to the farm or not?
↳ landonorris: you already said i could go so no take backs
↳ user10: lando is going to yn's farm??
↳ user11: LANDO'S MEETING YN?!
↳ user12: oh i know he's going to fangirl so hard
user13: get me someone who looks at me the way oscar looks at lando
↳ user14: are we sure that they aren't the ones dating?
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 3,017,426 others
youruser: back home finally! pic 1: yeehaw. pic 2: my cat cora had her babies!!! pic 3: dinner date :)
tagged: oscarpiastri
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user15: CORA HAD HER KITTIES
↳ youruser: i am officially a grandma. i feel the gray hairs coming in now
user16: oscar and yn are endgame
oscarpiastri: the best company
↳ landonorris: STOP, idk how you got her in on this joke either
↳ user16: i can't tell if lando knows they are actually dating and is joking or if he truly does not believe oscar
user17: boyfriend is back on the feed!
↳ user18: farmer yn is back on the feed!
glenpowell: miss you lady
↳ youruser: you miss my animals more
↳ glenpowell: and what about it.
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liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, and 4,209,384 others
landonorris: OMG HE WASN'T LYING i got to feed so many animals, got to channel my inner cowboy, AND get drunk with the yn? i can die a happy man
tagged: youruser
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oscarpiastri: believe me now?
↳ landonorris: never doubted you
↳ user19: lando seriously didn't believe oscar lol
↳ user20: i fully thought he was joking the entire time
user21: how hard did you fangirl to meet yn, lando?
↳ landonorris: surprised i didn't pass out honestly. i facetimed GLEN POWELL
youruser: so glad you had a fun time!!
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liked by youruser, landonorris, and 3,298,361 others
oscarpiastri: everyone clear that this is my girlfriend?
tagged: youruser
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user22: sassy oscar
↳ user23: channeling his inner lando
landonorris: yes sir 🫡
↳ oscarpiastri: stop being weird ?
youruser: MY MANNNNN
↳ user24: oh she's in deep
user25: there is one thing oscar doesn't play about in life: yn
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 4,208,763 others
youruser: didn't even know there was confusion that this was my boyfriend lol
tagged: oscarpiastri
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landonorris: how was i meant to know?!
↳ user26: literally how everyone else knew, instagram.
glenpowell: yn stop posting pics of me and my boyfriend and acting like he's yours
↳ youruser: i dont like this joke.
↳ oscarpiastri: bromance or whatever
↳ user27: they're in a throuple
↳ youruser: ew
↳ glenpowell: disgusting
↳ oscarpiastri: huhhh
user28: couple goals forever and ever
user29: if they don't get married... love isn't real
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thefrogman · 21 hours
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Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would
not get very many notes.
At all.
I am not sure exactly why.
I think people hated pressing an extra thing.
But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.
But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.
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When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."
That was a really good feeling.
I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.
So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.
Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.
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But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."
This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.
I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).
It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".
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Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.
I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.
While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)
The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.
Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?
KEEP READING
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I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.
I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.
I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.
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So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.
100% true ferret fact..
If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...
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avatar-anna · 2 days
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please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺
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Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist
August 2013
In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.
“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.
When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.
“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.
She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”
“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”
“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.
“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”
Y/n grinned. “Of course.”
“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.
Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.
Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"
Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"
"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.
"Hm."
"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.
"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.
Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."
"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."
Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.
"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.
Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."
"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.
"Do you not like flying?"
Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."
"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.
"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."
"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."
His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.
Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.
"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."
And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”
“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.
“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”
“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.
"We're about to find out."
Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.
When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”
*.*
Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.
Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.
“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”
Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.
He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.
“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”
“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”
“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”
Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.
“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.
Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…
“I can cancel—”
“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”
“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.
She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.
“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.
“If you’re sure,” she said.
“I’m sure.”
“Next time, then,” she offered.
Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.
“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”
Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”
*.*
Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.
And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.
For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.
And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.
It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.
“Can I help you?”
It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.
“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”
“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”
Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.
So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.
“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”
That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.
Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.
Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.
*.*
The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.
"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."
After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.
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ithinkitsdashingshop · 23 hours
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Alright! Shop is up and running at Ko-fi. The page is not much to look at yet, but the shop works.
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beneathsilverstars · 22 hours
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i feel bad for making modern au siffrin et al's life soo shitty and traumatic but like. looks at canon,
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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 days
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just a man
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Synopsis: on the night of Shibuya, Kusakabe wrestles with his obligation to aid his fellow sorcerers and risk his life. Normally the pretty bartender that he and Kento both like to share after hours, he decides to visit you alone before he does. Spinoff of a drabble I made.
Words: 6.1k 🖤
CW: MINORS DNI, XFEM!READER, SMUT(P IN V, SEMI PUBLIC PDA (ELEVATOR) FINGERING, CUM EATING, DOGGY STYLE, BREAST & NIPPLE PLAY, SPANK, ROUGH SEX, ORAL F RECEIVING) DANGER, LITTLE ANGST, CANON DIVERGENCE, MIGHT BE SPOILERS
A/n: yes, this is a repost. Since the original failed to show in the tags. Trying to see if this will get more interaction. Thank you for reading if this is your first time 🫶🏽 and my deepest most gracious thank you to those who did already read and reblog and comment.
@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer
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The dampened streets of Shinjuku are far from asleep despite the nighttime wandering into the darkened hours past midnight.
A chill laced with something ominous in the late petrichor-ridden air of October delivered a rush of restlessness throughout Atsuya Kusakabe's body as he stared into the night, the illuminating residual of neon signs painting a a rosy halo around his form.
His darkened eyes solemnly scan the crowds of young passerbys donning their eclectic outfits in light of the Halloween holiday, joyfully ignorant to the heavy knowledge he possessed of a greater storm that was brewing in the district of Tokyo just south of where he stood.
He got the call, he just didn't want to go. Truthfully, why was he needed when other first grade sorcerers such as the likes of Kento Nanami were already there?
There was something different about tonight's mission. He could feel it. He spent his whole life running from things that seemed so big and insurmountable. Yet he chose a life that regularly brushed elbows with danger.
The modern pressures of life can cause one to make choices uncharacteristic of them in the name of survival.
He was being selfish, but was wanting to stay alive really a selfish thing to want? Or was it a wise and sensible thing to hope for?
Jujutsu Sorcery didn't need to be this big dramatic display of self-sacrifice all the time. Chasing nobility in hopes of carrying the outward label of martyr while you wouldn't even be alive to see it was a fool's errand in his eyes. But it clashed with the institution he committed to whose sole mission was to produce sorcerers capable of such selfless acts to serve the non-sorcerer sphere of humankind.
What kind of hypocrite would he be if he failed to show up for the battle he'd beaten every last lesson in the book of preparedness into the mind of his students?
Before he joins them, he figures he'll make one more stop.
It might be the last time after all, experiencing that divine warmth your eyes exuded that made moments feel like a lifetime. Temporary solace he sought somewhere at the bottom of a glass and between the smoky haze and sensual opulence of an upscale bar past midnight.
Pretty eyes and a mouth that dripped salvation onto his throbbing cock in between sheets that smelled like you and him, delivering him to a heaven on Earth even better than the one in the clouds, one where jujutsu didn't exist.
He just wanted to feel like a man one more time. He would walk the formidable road of danger that was expected of him, but he'd do it on his own terms and at his own leisure.
It was his life, after all. Who could blame him?
He turned and made his way down the alley of Shinjuku suited for self pleasure and indulgence, ironically in the opposite direction of the selfless weight of the noble duty that called him.
------
Kusakabe stepped inside to be greeted with the familiar atmosphere of the lavish art deco styled speakeasy where you worked. It was one of many spots in the district where upper classes came to unwind, the motivation of tonight propelled by the autumnal festivities after dark.
The air hung heavy with allure and old money swank that was brought out by worldly imbibement and blackened clouds of burning tobacco from expensive cigars, smooth jazz, clinks of glass and murmured speech, occasionally interrupted with hearty belly laughter coming from certain patrons.
Dim booths that felt mobby with men in fine linen suits, running their gold adorned fingers over the suggestive hosiery of their female companionship. Intimate secrets whispered in ears and lustful gazes over lipstick stained glass rims.
"Hey, darlin...aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"
You hear his deep, rough voice behind you. You turn gracefully, flashing the handsome acquaintance that disarming smile of yours, noticing his usual, equally handsome companion was not with him.
"Hiya, Kusa! Just you tonight?"
"Just me tonight, doll..." Rugged charm oozes out of his expression, sitting on one of the bar stools directly across from you, a masculine spice gently wafting from him as he opens his coat, stripping it off and handing it to a passing butler who bows and promptly walks away. "Hope that's alright."
"It's more than alright, handsome." You touch his arm and his heart flutters. "Be right back, okay?"
He feels a swell of pride to his ego and he smirks. "Take your time, angel, but don't keep me waiting long, ya hear?"
"I won't, Kusa." You flirtatiously pout your lips.
He looks at you fondly and sits back in his chair as he raises the fresh glass of bourbon to his lips, those oaky eyes lingering on your form as you float away into the haze of smoke and the low enchanting light of the ritzy air of tonight as he loosens his tie.
----
Hours later, he beckons you closer when it appears you have a minute to spare and the initial buzz of the night has started to burn out, having graduated to a darker corner of the bar accented by the elegant polished mahogany.
He's clearly in the mood to flirt which you can place immediately with the way he's leaning towards you and how his eyes possess a gleam of playfulness.
But, he wasn't going to be a dick about it. He turns his considerate attention towards you to inquire about your current state,
"How's your week been, sweetheart?" He asks, honey dripping from his voice.
Your lips curl upwards and he all but fails to remove his hungry gaze from the inviting way your gloss makes them look so plump.
"My week has been alright, thank you for asking, Kusa. But a little tiring if I'm honest."
"Mm? Tell me about it."
He can't help but notice you seem a little guarded, as though you were carrying it in your shoulders, keeping him at arms length. He knew from the stiff curve of your smile that you weren't letting him all the way in.
He studies you, tilting his head. "I don't bite, y'know doll..."
You shake your head, scrunching your nose in false coy as you wipe down the bar, "I know you don't, handsome...." Your eyes sharpen briefly as you focus on a stubborn spot.
"....just not used to seeing you here without Kento."
Ah, of course, Kento.
"Heh...you do have a special liking for Kento, don't ya, sweetheart?" He inquiries light-heartedly, raising his glass to his lips.
You shrug, although the shy expression and the warmth you feel in your cheeks gives you away.
"Maybe, I mean, he's very sweet. And handsome..."
Kusakabe smirks while clapping a hand against his chest in feigned offense,
"What 'bout me, doll? I'm not?"
You unseriously roll your eyes as you crack your bar rag against the polished wood before tossing it into the soiled bucket underneath.
"No! Of course you are, Kusa..." You lean in with a sunny smile, your fingers dance along his forearm before you give it a squeeze.
He feels his heart patter in his chest but he disguises it with another smirk,
"M'just giving ya a hard time, doll. I apologize..."
He takes another long sip of his drink, ice cubes leaving his thin lips wet with bourbon as he sighs.
It was no secret that women loved Kento, and you were no exception. Truth was, he was used to being compared to him, but he gave up long ago trying to fill the shoes of Kento Nanami, both in their pursuits as sorcerers and in courting women.
But, despite the sinful arrangement of sharing a pretty woman like you after hours with Kento (that he considered all good in fair fun), sometimes after the heat died down and the throes of passion became more crystal clear as you laid sandwiched between him and his comrade, he found himself falling asleep wondering what it would be like if he had you all to himself.
He eyes you pensively before he looks down, fishing out a fresh lollipop from his pocket and unwrapping it.
"I am a little rough with ya, aren't I?" He sticks the pink lemonade flavored sucker in his mouth.
You grin again, looking down as though the motion could keep the internal fluster at bay.
"I mean, I don't mind that, it's just that he's..."
"More gentle?" He asks, leaning in a little closer to you, moving the stick of the lollipop to the other side of his mouth with smooth intrigue. The soft manner of his question throws you for a loop as you gaze back at him.
There's something curious in his eyes that you haven't seen from him before.
He places his hand on top of yours.
It somehow felt more intimate despite the fact he's explored the deepest parts of you, and seen your face as he and his friend delivered you to heaven countless times before.
"I can be gentle, too, doll..."
He whispers. He notices goosebumps raise on your arm above where he's tracing broad shapes with his thumb on the back of your hand.
Your pretty lips gently part, your bottom lip catching on the tempting shine of your lip gloss.
Kusakabe groans, the heat traveling swiftly in his body and down to his pants.
He has you right where he wants you and he prays you'll stay with him tonight.
"I could show you..." He smiles. "How 'bout I take you somewhere after this, beautiful?"
He notes your slight hesitation. Somehow it felt a little more intimidating knowing it was just him this time. Keeping in mind the rough sex he preferred made you feel slightly weary, since you were used to Kento's gentle and more giving touch to balance it out.
But, here he was promising to show you a good time with just him, and if sweet and slow was what you wanted, he'd give it to you.
"Promise I'll take good care of ya, doll..." He reassures. "You'll be safe with me. We'll go at your pace and if you wanna stop, we'll stop."
You smile and can't help but feel the warmth trickling through your shoulders, the soft way he's looking at you, a man with a gruff shell gazing at you like you're an ethereal goddess sprawled from the sea whom he's cajoling from the cerulean curtains of ocean foam to meet land for the first time.
Asking you like he's only barely allowed to breathe in your presence despite bedding you several times before, and the dark, enchanting brown of his eyes only adds to the flame.
You can't say no to him.
You smile with silent confirmation, and he grins, bringing the back of your hand against his mouth,
"You're an angel, sweetheart, thank you... I'll be waiting out front for ya."
"Okay Kusa, I just need to cash out my drawer but I'll be right there!"
"Course, baby. Take your time. I'll be right outside." He gives you one more charming smile before he retrieves his coat, leaving your mind reeling above the clouds.
----
The hotel lobby is equally stuffy but it's heavy and sensual, mirroring the opulence of the speakeasy you just came from, maintaining this area of Shinjuku's reputation for catering to those donning white collars in the upper ranks of wealth.
A couple patrons sit at the bar, cigarette smoke in casual clouds dusting the high embossed gold of the marble ceilings, dull candlelight and vintage luxury on jade velvet couches, tall palm leaves in obsidian pots and dry martinis swirling against the translucent glass as they spoke in low voices.
Kusakabe has you tucked under his arm, his fingers barely ghosting the curve of your ass as his hand sits low on the soft flesh of your hip.
"You wearin that new set Kento and I bought ya, angel...?" His fingers tease along your collarbone.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps and your stomach twists with the promise of what's to come. "Yes, Kusa..."
"Good girl...gonna have to keep it on when I'm going down on ya, sweetheart..."
His husky murmurings in intimate volume only you can hear emulsifies your insides into honey as he slowly stokes the flame, getting you nice and warmed up.
"So pretty, doll. You're always so stunning."
His lips brush the shell of your ear as soon the elevator doors close. You turn to him with heavy lidded eyes and your lips crash together in a frenzy of pent up lust.
He groans into the kiss, his tongue exploring the glossy seam of your lips before you open them and he prods inside with steady, building intention and want. He explores carefully while clutching both sides of your neck tenderly, the whiskey lending itself to his movements, slightly sloppy but somehow it made things even more steamy between you as you drowned in the spicy taste of bourbon with undertones of the sweet pink lemonade sucker weaved in his mouth.
You feel his palms slide under the hem of your shirt, gently replacing it with the subtle chill from his skin sliding up your stomach until both hands come to reside on the soft mounds of your breasts, greeting them with deliberate, teasing swipes of his thumbs over your responsive nipples, leaving a column of goosebumps shooting up your spine as it arched.
Your eyes roll back at the sensual feeling of his growing cock through his pants as he softly ruts his hips against you.
You two stay locked like that for several steamy moments accentuated by the exaggerated pants into each other's mouths as you hump one another in the quiet elevator, his forehead rests against yours, jaw slack as he watches you melt underneath his hands, the epicenter of pleasure radiating from how he's groping your breasts and rubbing his hips against your ass in just the right way that it carries such irresistible preview of the fervor and passion he promised to fuck you with for real as soon as the door to your suite closed behind you.
Without warning, his hand wanders to your sex, his molten gaze remains locked on you. You whine loudly and suck in air between your teeth.
"Fuck..." He hisses as he feels his cock elongate all at once, strained under the confines of his pants. You wiggle for a moment in his grasp, trying to align the pressure of his hand with your throbbing clit. The delicious discovery of which you announce with another trembling moan.
"Kusa..." You feebly whisper, the publicity of the sexy act, dwindling time of the elevator's ascent before it reaches your floor, and the union of friction between Kusakabe's skilled hand and your clit place you in serious danger of cumming for him in your pants.
"Hold on f'me, angel..." The corner of his mouth twitches with satisfaction.
"Kusa, please..."
"I know doll...." He kisses your throat. "Just teasin ya for a bit..."
"Kusa, slow..."
"I know, doll, I remember..."
You jaw falls open as a low purr escapes your throat, the ending accentuated by a whine as his finger moves at a coaxing tempo.
"Nice...n' slow..." He whispers, his words rolling off his tongue in devastating synchronization of his movements over your clit, before two of his fingers slip beautifully inside you with a deep moan.
Just as you thought you were beginning to bloom, he withdraws his hand swiftly and stuffs it in his pocket, the movement and quick emptiness making you wobble on your feet.
He catches you with his other arm, pulling you against him as the doors slide open with a ding. An older couple nods politely as they step in, seemingly unfazed by your clearly disheveled clothes and wild eyed expression.
Kusakabe merely smirks as he guides you out of the elevator and down the hall to your awaiting room.
-----
You can't help but sigh deeply as your lips connect with Kusakabe's again.
This felt divine after a long day. He could feel his worries dissipate and dissolve into the air that began to hang heavily around you, not allowing his lips to disconnect from yours even for a second as he removed his coat, stripping yours off you with careful precision, the sensual sound of the fabric hitting the floor.
You were plunging headfirst into a sea that swallowed you whole completely, lost to the tides of lust.
As your head hits the pillow of the king sized bed, you weave your fingers in the loops of his belt to occupy your hands while he quicky moved to unbutton your shirt. You shivered as you felt the fleeting graze of his fingers against your breasts that were slowly becoming revealed to him. Your sudden movement interrupts his trance, briefly, only to remember the promise he made you earlier.
"Sorry, doll..." He murmurs, his wet lips move to the corner of your mouth as he gently circulates his hands that contain your soft breasts in them in wordless appreciation. "...this still okay?"
"Mhmm...." You weakly mewl out, all sense of your surroundings trickle down the drain when he begins fondling your tits, struggling to maintain control over the volume of your moans, "Tha-that'so good, Kusa...hard to be quiet when it feels so good..."
"Fuck em..." He groans as you arch your back. "Keep moanin for me like that, angel..."
Kusakabe closes his eyes, both your foreheads resting against one another as though he could absorb your warmth. Your little pants and whimpers egg him on as he plays with your breasts but he remains chained to his word to take things slow.
"Kusaaa...."
But that particular breathy utterance of his name that fell from your lips causes him to dip his head down, his hands guiding your bra straps down to easily move the lacey cups as he took your left breast in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing and your head gently rolling back as his tongue slowly lapped at your nipple.
Your hand flies to his bulge, massaging and feeling him up through his slacks. Another groan rumbles in his chest, the deep pitch prompting you quickly to clench your thighs. You sigh when his mouth departs your left breast, leaving the nipple perky with a wet pucker and sloppy kiss, moving to the right.
His eyes flicker up and remain trained on you every so often. Watching you slowly be reduced to putty little by little with every warm, wet brush of his tongue, bathing your breasts in worship with his wanton mouth.
You begin to grow impatient, your weeping cunt desperately begging to be full of him, the heated foreplay giving you more than enough preparation to take him, but he continues loving on you like this without pause for several heavenly minutes.
"Kusa, baby...can't take it...need your cock, Kusa..."
"Mhhnnn.....hold on, doll...I've still gotta taste ya..."
Kusakabe's fingers trail to your black skirt, greeting the plush of your stomach with a kiss. "This okay?" He checks in gently again. You nod and he slides off your skirt and pantyhose, leaving the deep emerald lace of the panties he bought for you exposed to his hungry eyes.
"God, you're something..." He whispers.
"So are you, Kusa..."
"Oh yeah?" He purrs, running a finger along the sheer fabric that only scantily hid your wetting sex away from him as he wet his lips. He unbuttons his shirt, dipping his head down before slowly inhaling your scent.
"What am I, angel?"
You feel the pad of his thumb hook underneath the gusset.
"You're...."
A moan is ripped out of your throat the minute his tongue teases the outer delicate flesh of your pussy. "Kusa..."
"Go on, baby..." He teases a kiss to the soft mound.
"You're...so good..." Your toes curl as his tongue glides between your arousal dripped folds. "Ohhhh you're so fucking sexy, Atsuya..."
"Ffffuck me doll..." He turns you on your stomach. "You can say my name like that all night long."
He removes his shirt completely, pulls your panties to the right and leans in, kissing and kneading the tender fat. One of his hands frees his aching cock.
"Atsuya....mmm, Atsuya..."
"Such a gorgeous ass..." He groans, moving the panties slightly as he frees and slides his cock between your asscheeks, loving how the globes envelope around it, the second best thing he loved seeing wrapped around his cock, besides the warm silky walls of your cunt.
"Gotta be my favorite part of you, angel..." He leans over, swirling his tongue against your shoulder blade before punctuating it with a tender kiss, blazing a long trail down your spine, provoking you to arch for him again.
Kusakabe groans at your responsiveness and bestowing him the beautiful sight of your ass in the air again. When he reaches the bottom, he gives he gives your asscheek another tender squeeze in preparation.
"Relax for me, doll..."
The hinge in your jaw slowly unravels, going slack completely as Kusakabe begins eating your pussy from the back. You feel his nose push against the slit, completely and shamelessly coating his face with your arousal. His tongue wettens the seam of your folds, exploring them like a paintbrush against a canvas. You let yourself grind on his tongue, the languid laps of him stroking your sensitive flesh making you ache for the sweet stretch of his cock, settling for the sensation of his nose brushing the sides of your clit instead. He groans and you feel the low purr reverberate against your pussy and you respond to the delectable sensation by sticking your ass even more into his face.
Somehow the fact that he was tongue fucking you while just pulling your panties to the side made it even sexier.
"Christ, babydoll..." He chuckles huskily. "You're soakin f'me..."
"Atsuya, baby..."
"Ohh...angel. M'right here..." He senses your body moving closer to the edge, as he has several times. He moves his tongue quicker, moving his hand to start pressing on your clit. The pad of his index finger was doused immediately in the slick, producing a breathy cry from your lungs, your legs twitching as he hangs you on the edge of sweet release, massaging the tender nub as it grew puffier from the stimulation.
"Atsuya! "You whine. "F-fuck me please, oh please!"
"Mmmm...gotta cum f'me first..." He leans over you, licking the shell of your ear while his finger gently toys with your clit. "That's it, thaat's it. Lemme have it, doll..."
He kisses your shoulder. "Cum on my fingers, babygirl..."
Your fingers dig into the pillow as you gush on his hand. He chuckles softly, bringing his hand to his mouth, the lewd sound of his fingers popping from his cheeks as he tastes your love.
"Here, lookit me, angel..." He gently turns your chin with his other hand, barely prodding his fingers against the seam of your soft lips. "Taste yourself..."
You groan, drunk off the haze of post orgasm bliss as you taste his fingers, letting your tongue lick all over them and saliva dribble out of the corners of your mouth like a cock hungry slut.
"Mmm..." you purr with heavy eyelids. "So yummy, Kusa..."
His cock twitches, a generous bead of precum leaking from the tip. He kisses your temple.
"So gorgeous doll, such a perfect, naughty girl f'me..."
A whine halfway squeezes out, getting caught in your throat as you feel him discard your panties completely before he begins to swirl the broad tip of his cock at your weeping entrance and you hear the sound of his trousers falling completely on the floor behind you.
"Kusa..." You bite your lip. "Make love to me..."
"I will beautiful..." He purrs, leaning in and nuzzling his face against your ear. "Kiss me, angel..."
You lips meet and you groan when more of your lingering taste in his mouth melts onto your tongue. He kisses you deeply as his cock begins to delve into your warm cunt from behind. You pant slightly into the kiss as you feel him stretch you. Your velvet walls hugging his cock, slowly sucking him in.
"S'alright..." He breathes into your mouth. "S'alright doll..." He kisses you softly, sloppily, more deeply to distract you from his size.
"Doin so good....so good, pretty..." He coos roughly.
You feel yourself surrender little by little, the ridged, sinful feeling of the veins of his cock massaging your plush walls, delivering euphoria from the heavenly friction. You released a breathy moan in tandem with the husky grunt he makes in your ear when he eventually bottoms out inside of you.
He pauses and you feel the generous length twitch, making you bite your lip. He sits up a bit, reverently, admiring the sight of himself buried deeply into you from behind.
Your beautiful ass all spread out in front of him, pussy molded to his cock like it was meant for him. Like this was truly the first time he was giving himself to you. The other times before paling in comparison to this exclusive moment with you, all to himself.
He groans and runs his palms over the expanse of your ass, cementing the image in his psyche permanently before leaving a couple small kisses on your lower back.
"M'gonna start moving, doll..." He whispers, interlacing his fingers in between yours on the pillow.
You feel his chest press into your back as his hips retreat slightly. A quiet, filthy squelch from the buildup of arousal around the base, before he rapidly presses his cock back inside you in one deep fell swoop with a wet plop.
"Mmm...Kusa..." You moan as he feeds you stroke, after slow stroke. The prolonged time between thrusts, the increased drag of his cock carried promise that was quickly fulfilled so deliciously and deeply with each time he thrust inside you. The tempo was smooth, soft. It was erotically intimate, his lips brushing your ear, cradling your chin in his hand while he slowly fucked you.
"Fuck...fuck.....mnnnnhhh...baby, grippin' me so tight..."
You let his presence overpower you, nothing in this moment besides being under this man, this rugged, fine man showing a side of himself that surely had your mind and body falling for him, and letting him fuck you deeply with his cock.
"So damn beautiful....so pretty..." He gently grips your throat.
You feel yourself dripping, your pussy hungrier for more connection, more intensity as the pleasure began to flood you from the inside.
"H-Harder, Kusa..."
Kusakabe groans, tapering into a breathy chuckle as he scoffed.
"Wanted it nice n'slow all night, n'now you're wantin' me to go rough on ya, doll?"
He teases as he nibbles your ear, the slow pumps of his cock unrelenting, until he gives one abrupt, sharp thrust that sets every nerve on fire and brain fogged with euphoria.
"Ohhhhh.....God yes...yes Kusa... harder....faster...please!"
He moans deeply, his hips picking up the pace. When you begged so sweetly for him, he couldn't do anything but say no.
"Shit, baby...." His fingers press into your cheek, bringing your face closer to his, his hoarse pants in your ear as he drilled his cock into you from behind.
"Gonna be real hard to last much longer if you keep beggin..."
His thumb slips into your mouth and you moan graciously. The new pace felt heavenly but you needed more. More rough, more dirty. Moving past taking things slow and soft to just having him absolutely fuck all sense out of you.
"Harder, Kusa..."
And a switch goes off, taking the liberty of reverting back to his usual style of rough and fast, but with no shortage of passion and pleasure as he wound his fingers tightly into your hair, using his other hand to grip your hip and pull you into his feverish thrusts.
Your asscheeks clap together as he pounds your pussy into the mattress, moving from keeping his hands in your hair and his lips brushing your ear to sitting back on his heels, pressing your cheek into the mattress with a hand on the back of your neck and fucking you at a harsher angle.
You moan and pant loudly releasing an unending chant of his name, "Kusa....fuck Kusa....so good, so good..."
"Fuck..." He smacks your ass, his chest coated in a sheen of sweat as he sits back like a king, watching his slick covered cock slide rapidly in and out of your soaked pussy, the entire length disappearing and nearly completely pulling out before abruptly driving back into you.
"Keep taking my cock beautiful.... that's it, thaaat's it." He closes his eyes, tossing his head back momentarily as he senses his release right around the corner.
"Gonna paint this gorgeous ass all over with my cum..." He leans in. "You want that don't you, doll...? Tell me you want it..."
He presses a soft kiss to your cheek, his thrusts slowing down considerably but the length of each stroke remaining long and agonizingly deep, nearly reaching your cervix every time with every deep roll of his hips.
"Want it Kusa...want your cum..."
"Say you want me..." He whispers.
"I want you, Atsuya. Fuck me so good and cum just for me, please, baby..."
"Jesus... FUCK!"
He pulls out quickly, grunting as his hand grips his shaft, coaxing long generous ropes of milky white cum all over your ass and lower back, his voice hoarse as he pants with exhaustion.
You stay there, frozen, numbly, panting as well as you untangle from the throes of pleasure.
"Hold on, doll..." Kusakabe gets up, flashing a very pleasant view of his back and cute backside, a scar here and there imprinted in between the ridges of muscle.
He returns with a towel, wiping up his cum and then kissing your shoulder before he climbs into bed with you, running a hand through his hair as he pulls you into his chest.
"Here..." He gestures for you to sit up, unclasping your lacey bra that had remained on during the entire time, both of you sighing deeply as your bare skin met in sensual bliss underneath the sheets.
"Much better..." You say softly, closing your eyes.
Kusakabe smiles tenderly at you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. "You're too good to me, sweetheart." He sighs again as his nails brush your upper arm in haphazard circles. "Thank you."
"Anytime, Kusa." You look up at him and smile sweetly, a playful look in your eye that says the late hour hasn't gotten to you just yet.
He hums, drinking in your features, a finger winding its way amidst a stray piece of hair framing your face. As his mind becomes less clouded, he remembers his obligations in Shibuya and his phone in his pocket that must have dozens of notifications by now, a subtle feeling of dread beginning to assemble in his lower belly.
He wished he could shatter time.
You look up at him, taking in his warm irises, his musk that remained subtly laced in his aftershave, his sharp jaw. You could sense a shift, a hidden disquieting energy simmering in his silence.
"You okay, Atsuya?"
He looks at you balancing your chin on his shoulder, a pleasant expression tugging at his mouth at the pretty sight of you staring up at him.
"Yeah..." He leans in kissing you. "Yeah, m’alright, doll, you? Ya tired?"
"Good..." You murmur, pausing with your eyes closed after his lips retreated a short distance from yours, gently shaking your head. "I'm okay. Do you have to go tonight, Kusa…?”
Kusakabe sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as you asked him a question he still did not have a concrete answer to.
"I might...but the room's booked for the night as always, you're welcome to stay..."
He looks down at you, a bit of concern in his eyes at the sight of your slight disappointment at his answer.
Not wanting you to feel used, he tries to reassure you.
"But I'm in no rush..." He gives you a warm smile, gently squeezing your inner thighs. "You're not ready to get some sleep yet?"
"No..." a playfulness marks your pupils which Kusakabe picks up the underlying implications immediately. "I could lose another hour, or two."
"Could you now?" Kusakabe's eyebrows crinkle with mischief, shoving thoughts of Shibuya aside once he had something much less grim, much more lovelier, much more intimate, enticing, and alluring beckoning for his attention once again.
"Mhmm.." a faint smirk begins to curl on your lips.
"That's good.." Kusakabe whispers.
You moan weakly as he lets your thighs fall open and he begins softly rubbing your clit once again, his lips brushing your ear.
"Cause right now, I have all the time in the world."
-----
Your eyes close and flicker open quickly, the disorient of sleep confusing you momentarily, realizing that at least a couple hours must have passed despite the seeming blink of an eye.
A little bit of disappointment creeps onto your face when you see Kusakabe silently dressing, pulling his white dress shirt over his broad bare shoulders that outlined against the faint glow of empire city lights behind the drawn silk curtains.
"Where are you going, Kusa?"
He is alerted to your awake state, sighs, and turns as he manages a smile.
"Gotta take care of some business in Shibuya, angel. You know how it is." He melts a little bit when you take his hand and pull him closer, pressing your cheek against it.
"Don't go, Kusa..."
He groans a little bit. Why'd you have to be so damn sweet?
All at once, he's aware of something odd. A feeling for you he didn't quite place before. Something that lasted beyond just the wrinkled sheets, the low light and seductive atmosphere of the bedroom. Something real that transcended the sensuality of the night and remained in the morning when you could wake up side by side together. And, as you look up at him now, he knows he's screwed.
"Believe me, I don't wanna go either, doll..." He sighs deeply as you start slowly kissing his palm.
Fuck, and you had the nerve to do it while looking dead at him with those lovely twinkling eyes of yours.
"Would much rather stay in this bed with you..."
His eyes nearly pop out of his skull when you press his palm against your breast. He's immediately unable to resist squeezing it as you pull him back on top of you, still fully dressed, the rough fleece of his brown coat on top of your soft, naked body.
"Fuck, don't look at me like that, doll. Y'know what that does to me..." He mumbles weakly as you kiss each other deeply, before he pulls away briefly for air.
For a moment suspended in the passion, all you see is warmth staring back at you and it simultaneously dawns on him.
Moments like these were worth staying alive for, worth not risking his life tonight for. An angel like you. Someone he could idle hours away with. Learning one another. Sharing space with someone he didn't mind tangling souls with for a bit. Softness and warmth and connection.
Could you be his?
"When will I see you again?" You whisper, brushing your nose against his.
Kusakabe kisses your hand. "Soon, angel. You'll see me real soon..."
"Kusa..."
He groans, a cloak of protectiveness over you that completely overwhelms him as he hugs you tightly one more time.
"Be safe, okay? You'll watch out for Kento too, right, Kusa?" You murmur against his chest, drinking in the oasis of his spiced cologne along with the smell of the city when rain mixes with smoke until you can imbibe in each other again.
Kusakabe looks at you, the round tips of his fingers combing the circle of your face.
"Course I will, doll." He smiles bittersweetly, knowing your confidence you had in him betrayed any he had in himself.
But he'd try. He'd try his very best, for you.
"Get some sleep, angel. I'll be back for you soon..."
He whispers as he leaves you tucked in the billowy white sheets that clung the scent of your reunion that slowly coaxes you to sleep.
-----
He sighs as he wearily steps onto the midnight saturated street with the weight of something finally greater than himself that he left buried in that warm master bed in that grand hotel.
He puts one foot in front of the other as he gloomily trudges in the direction of the Shibuya district, thoughts of your eyes guiding every step as he quietly ponders the foreboding unknown that lay ahead.
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Note
Hii! First off, I LOVE your writing.
Secondly, what if during a movie night w/the demon brothers, (bc I am convinced they have them...) they (unknowingly) pick a movie that stars MC. What would each of their reactions be? Could you also do one with the undateables too?
Thx for reading! <3
Heyyyy I wrote your request as a group story because it's thought it's easier than writing for each brother individually. As for the other guys there will be a part two coming soon. Enjoy!
Summary: The brothers and MC are having a movie night and they find out that MC is one of the actors in it.
You can find more of my work here: Masterlist
GN!MC
The brothers' reactions to MC being an actor in a movie
It was a peaceful night in the Devildom. There weren't many hardships during the day and all the brothers were pretty energetic. The eldest wasn't preoccupied with too much work so he was planning on spending the night with a glass of demonus and the sound of record playing in the background while relaxing on the comfortable sofa in his study. All of a sudden though MC along with the rest of the brothers burst through the door of the study just as he was choosing the perfect record for the night. Lucifer shot them a look of tiredness and question before crossing his arms at his chest.
Mammon: Yo, Lucifer! Ya in mood for a movie night? We haven't had those in a while. Whatcha say?
Asmo: Yep <3. I just looove watching a movie while cuddling with someone. Can I pleaseeee cuddle you, Lucifer?
Satan: Guys why don't we just watch it ourselves? Why do we need Lucifer there?
Beel while nibbling on some food: Because... Num.. num num.. we're.. num.. num.. a family, Satan.
Satan rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall behind him.
Satan: Whatever.
Lucifer: Hm.. a movie night you say? We certainly haven't had those in a while... But...
Upon hearing the word "But" MC looked up at the eldest with the most pleading puppy eyes they could manage.
MC: Come ooon, Lucifeeerrr. Pleaseee?
Asmo along with MC: Please~?
Lucifer sighing: Fine, I'll come. But Asmo, my cuddles are reserved for MC. So I'd appreciate it if you keep your distance.
---
Everyone are sitting in the living room, in front of the TV. Satan is passing through the list of movies the brothers have stored in "to watch"
Satan: How about this one? It's a murder documentary.
Asmo shot Satan with an "are you serious?" look before tilting his head to the side and putting a hand over his eyes dramatically.
Asmo: Are you insane, Satan? Please get this out of my sight!! The image of.. blood alone gives me the chills...
Levi: As far as I know you are the only one in the house that enjoys watching this type of thing, Satan.
Satan: That's not true! MC watches them with me all the time.
Belphie: Do they enjoy it though? Or are they doing it out of politeness?
Lucifer: Or perhaps they pity him for watching the documentaries alone so they decide to tag along.
Satan: Lucifer, shut up. I'm not pitiful unlike a certain someone with their classical music obsession.
Lucifer's eyes darken and his gaze pierced through the back of Satan's head.
Lucifer: Satan.
MC gently pokes Lucifer's bicep, signaling him to calm down.
MC: Guys, let's not fight. It's a family movie night!
Beel: Yeah. MC is right.
Mammon pointing at the screen: How 'bout that one? It's some kind of fantasy and horror mix or somethin'. Sounds great to me!
Satan: Yeah. That's not a bad choice either. Should we watch this?
Levi: Yeah. Looks good.
Mammon: Yo Asmo! Ya ain't squeamish about this as well are ya?
Asmo: Well this one doesn't look as bad as the murder documentary. Let's give it a go.
Satan clicks the play button and sits back on the couch. Though what he doesn't expect is to feel someone snuggling against him. He looks down and his eyes widen upon seeing Asmo getting comfortable on his older brother's chest.
Satan: Asmodeus! I never allowed you to snuggle against me!
Asmo: Awwhh come ooonn, Saaataaannn!! What's a movie night without cuddles???
Despite Asmo's winning Satan pushed him away and looked back at the screen.
Asmo: Ugh, Satan! You're so bad! MC, sweetheart, be a doll and come cuddle with me.
Mammon: Don't even think about it, Asmo! MC is sitting with ME right now. It's not your turn yet!
Everybody continue talking until one specific scene gets on the screen and silences the brothers.They are left in a mix of shock and confusion which was clearly visible on their faces.
Mammon: Wait.. That can't be..
Belphie: But it does look like them..
Levi: Could it perhaps be them..?
MC furrows their brows and looks at the brothers with a questioning look.
MC: Guys, what's up? You went silent all of a sudden... Is something the matter..?
All of the brothers take a look at MC before looking back at the screen.
Lucifer: MC, is that... You?
MC looks at the TV and smiles upon seeing themselves on the screen.
MC: Oh yeah! I'm one of the actors in the movie! I completely forgot. Cool isn't it?
Mammon: Wait WHAT?
Satan: MC, you are one of the.. actors? You're starting in this movie?
MC: Yeah?
Levi: What do you mean "Yeah?" This is a serious matter!
Asmo: MC dear, you never told us that you're an actor...
MC: Is it that important that you have to know?
Belphie: Yeah!
Beel: Yes, MC
MC: ...?
Lucifer sighs and punches the bridge of his nose before speaking.
Lucifer: MC, they're just overreacting. This is a matter to be proud of. I've personally heard many good things about this movie.
Mammon: Overreactin'?! Whatcha mean?!?! We ain't overreactin'!!!
Asmo: Yeah this seems pretty important to me! Like I'm sooo into it!! MC, dear, tell me more! Tell me what make up they use, how did they style your hair because it looks fabulous!
Satan: Yes, MC how does it feel to perform on stage in front of a camera?
Levi: Is it hard? Do you get stage fright or camera fright or something? I would honestly prefer to die rather than perform on stage! How do you do it?
MC: Well..
Belphie: Do they let you take naps in between shootings? If it were me I would fall asleep on stage if they didn't let me nap..
Beel: Do they give nice food? Is it free by any chance? How did it taste like.. Mmm my stomach is already growling...
Mammon: How much did they pay ya?! It better be a nice, big amount B'cuz it would be insultin' to not pay ya enough?
MC: Well, first of all..
Lucifer sighing: MC, you don't have to answer all of their stupid questions if you don't feel like it..
MC: No it's fine...
And so MC proceeds to explain everything to the brothers, answering each question they shoot their way with a wide smile on their face. The brothers seem in awe that MC was staring in the said movie. Some of them were proud and others were simply shocked and extremely interested.
After the bunch of questions from the seven brothers the family finally manages to watch the movie. At times someone would point out MC's acting skills or a scene that looked cool.
Sometimes the brothers would brag about MC and their acting potion in said movie since it was well known. And when they had movie nights they'd sometimes watch other movies MC starred in.
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beybladeninja · 2 days
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You know what, I’ve been tagged in so many of these tagging games, I’m gonna start one of my own!
This came up in a conversation with my friends, so I just gotta know:
What was your childhood fear (and why)?
What haunted your dreams, made you afraid of every shadow, and caused you to ask your parents to check in your closet and under your bed?
Since this is my tagging game, I’ll get the ball rolling with:
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THIS. FUCKING. THING.
For those who don’t know, this is Tyrone from Backyardigans and this episode is called “Whodunit”. Backyardigans was my childhood, and I still watch it from time to time, but this episode absolutely creeped me out as a child.
Tyrone is a sweetheart and I love him in any other episode, but…
👆👆👆
LOOK AT THIS!!
LOOK AT HIM!!
LOOK AT HOW CREEPY THEY MADE HIM IN THIS EPISODE!!
THIS IS SCARY FOR A LITTLE KID!!
HE LITERALLY MADE HIS FIRST APPEARANCE BY POPPING OUT OF THE MIST!!
THEN RAN AROUND THE SHADOWS LIKE A FREAKING GOBLIN!!
I LITERALLY HAD NIGHTMARES ABOUT THIS DUDE!!
For those I tag, you don’t have to participate if you’re not comfortable sharing, especially if it’s a sensitive topic. But if it’s an embarrassment thing, I started it off by saying I was afraid of a cartoon character that was only creepy for one particular episode. We don’t judge here. This is a safe space.
@littledudeholland @letsbelikethewindtogether @pixanefan @kazumahashimoto @sweetheart-weeb-33 @revlischarm @rinkunokoisuru
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Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen
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Part 17: Everything Is Cursed
King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader
Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.
Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta read.
Word Count: 6371 words.
Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →
One question was bothering you. You had been through hell and you still hadn't received your reward. That inquiry was running in circles in your mind. There were many answers, but none were facts. What was happening? Why were you going through it? How long would it be until it was over? Many possibilities, none seemed to be the right one. It was a doubt that arose the morning after the small funeral you prepared for your sister.
There was a small chapel past the garden and crops behind the terrible castle. Its white facade, with a classical curved parapet and a red tiled roof, emanated serenity in the middle of hell. On top of the facade, the emblem of Sukuna’s kingdom rose towards the sky. Vines grew around the open arch that reveals its interior. That small place had existed since Sukuna conquered these lands. With no function for that small building, Sukuna decided to leave it as it was. Sometimes the servants would go there in their free time to pray for their souls in case they didn’t survive another day.
You carefully placed the golden urn with Yorozu’s ashes on one of the shelves. Uraume had given it to you the morning after your little expedition with the king. That morning, you woke up, surprised to be in your room in the castle. Apparently, you had fallen asleep while watching the sunset and the king had to carry you back in his arms. “How embarrassing,” you thought before getting ready for the funeral.
You put on the cap of your black cloak so that no one would disturb you as you dedicated a minute of silence to your sister’s soul with your cheeks completely dry. You had quickly accepted that she was no longer with you and that you couldn’t do anything for her in life. Now the only thing you could do was honor her short life. Everything had happened so fast. A couple of months ago you were crying from happiness to see her, and now you didn’t want to cry from disappointment.
You listened to Kenjaku give his class, but you couldn't pay attention. It had been a week since Yorozu's death and something was missing. The reason why you had committed that atrocity that you wanted to forget but would haunt you for the rest of your life. You tried to pay attention to your teacher, but that doubt kept pulling you into the limbo of probabilities.
“Once you understand your opponent's point of view, it is easier to defend your own position more successfully, especially because that's how you avoid misunderstandings and arguing about aspects that the other side hasn't really said,” Kenjaku explained while writing the keywords on the board. “That's why studying the rival is very important in the debate.” He turned around to find you lost in your thoughts. You looked at the board, but you weren't really reading what it said. “Do you have any questions?”
“Why hasn't the king proposed to me yet?” You asked him, coming back to your senses. Kenjaku looked at you confused.
“I meant about class…”
“Ah.” You quickly read what the board said about the steps to learn how to argue. “I have no doubts about that.”
Kenjaku had noticed your strange attitude for a couple of days now, but as you continued with your education without delay, he never asked you. He thought it was because you were still mourning your sister's death or sad about not knowing the true whereabouts of your sisters. The teacher smiled to himself, just when he thought he could read you like an open book, it turned out that he wasn't.
“So that's what's been distracting you lately?” Kenjaku inquired.
“Did I do something wrong? The king promised to marry me once I killed someone of my kind, but he hasn't done it yet,” you explained worriedly.
“Do you want to marry him that much?” Kenjaku joked tenderly. It was nice to see a girl completely in love.
“Of course,” you answered without hesitation. Your master smiled at hearing you so excited. “My sister died because of that, I better do it.” That was not an answer he expected to hear.
“Excuse me?”
“I lost Yorozu because of that deal. If Sukuna doesn't propose to me, I would have killed my sister for nothing,” you explained, crossing your arms in frustration. “Do you know why the king hasn't done it yet?”
Kenjaku's enthusiastic smile disappeared just like that day when Sukuna came back with you in his arms, completely asleep and, worst of all, without a ring on your finger. The king was stupid for not taking the opportunity to ask you to marry him after all.
“I have no idea,” Kenjaku answered. “Maybe he's been very busy.”
That could be a possibility. You hadn't seen the king as often as before. You used to see him at every meal of the day, in the afternoon when you gave him your daily report, and when he sometimes poked his nose into your education. Now, you only saw him at breakfast time because he spent the rest of the day locked in his office. You couldn't even report to him because he wouldn't let you in. It was strange how everything around you had changed after your sister's death.
"I hope he didn't scam me," you thought, holding your head in guilt.
"The king may be many things, but a scammer isn't one of them," Kenjaku, I assure you.
The door opened, interrupting the teacher-student conversation. You recognized almost immediately the naturally bitter face, the gray hair, and the dull uniform in dark tones. It was that new servant who was so kind to you. All you knew about him had been from Mrs. Inoue, who had told you that he was such a reserved, serious, and somewhat grumpy man. It seemed so strange to you that you never perceived it like that.
“Sorry to interrupt you. The king calls you to his office,” he announced.
“Maybe the time has come,” Kenjaku commented with a smile.
“Finally…” You sighed.
It was strange. Kenjaku thought you would be more excited about marrying the king. You studied complicated subjects that fried your brain, trained until exhaustion, and got ready early to please the king’s eyes. It made no sense for you to work so hard for this moment and not be excited.
Sukuna let them into the office. You and Kenjaku entered after bowing in respect to the king and his right-hand man, Uraume, who stood faithfully behind him. Sukuna’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. He gripped his pen tightly to mask his nervousness at being in your presence.
Returning to the castle after his failed marriage proposal, he carried you to your room as you snored softly. He gently laid you down on the bed so as not to wake you up. He took off your boots before tucking you into bed. He sat next to you to admire your calmness. Your chest rose and fell slowly to the rhythm of your breathing. Your eyelashes stood out more when your eyes were closed. Your half-open lips invited him to come closer to kiss you like that night you spent together. “Enough!” Sukuna scolded himself in his mind to stop and immediately leave your room so you could continue your dream.
Since that night, he realized that he can’t think coherently when he iswas near you, so he decided to take immediate measures so you wouldn’t distract him when working. It was frustrating how your mere presence could upset him like that. He had to fight with all his instincts to concentrate on what mattered most now, the future of his kingdom.
You and Kenjaku approached the desk. Quickly, you noticed a large black box with a gold engraving of roses on it. It was almost as long as the desk. That must have been the reason you had been called. It seems that this was not what you were expecting.
“Open it.” Sukuna ordered you.
You looked at Kenjaku for a second, worried about what might be inside. Your master patted you on the back a couple of times, inviting you to come closer. You worked up the courage to open the box without a hint of fear. The latches clicked open at the same time. You lifted the lid to reveal the immaculate treasure.
A beautiful rose gold bow that radiated a special aura against the light. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you pulled it out of its box, along with its matching pink-dyed leather quiver. You never thought you'd see such a beautiful weapon in your life. You pretended to load the bow with an imaginary arrow to test it out. It was lighter than the one you had before, and you could tell it was made with the best quality materials. As you lowered the bow, you noticed a small detail. In the small hollow of the handle there was an engraving, a small daisy. You smiled at the cute detail. You thought it would have a rose, since it was a common symbol in the Sukuna kingdom, but daisies are cute too.
“It's a cursed bow,” Sukuna explained, catching your attention. “That means you can kill curses with it. Keep that in mind when you train with my soldiers.”
“What's the difference from a normal bow?” You asked curiously.
“This bow is infused with the cursed energy from Yorozu’s body,” the king replied bluntly.
“Are you saying that part of my sister is here?” You stammered. Everyone in the room could tell that you were about to burst into tears.
“Yes,” Sukuna replied in the same tone.
You hugged the bow to your chest as you sobbed softly, hiding your face behind your hair and the upper limb. A pang of guilt attacked Sukuna’s chest. He really thought you would like his gift, since you deserved a cursed weapon made especially for you, but it seems he was wrong.
“Thank you…” You sobbed. “Thank you for giving me something to honor her life with.”
You looked into his eyes with tears running down your cheeks and a nostalgic smile on your face. Sukuna’s heart quickly skipped a beat as he realized the true reason for your crying. His lower hands, hidden beneath the desk, clenched into fists to control himself. How could you play with his feelings without even trying? Sukuna Ryomen, the king of curses, the powerful tyrant and the commander of thousands, was being corrupted by a mere mortal.
He hated these feelings you caused him. You made him so embarrassed he looked like a tomato, you annoyed him so much, but he couldn't get mad at you, and now, you could manipulate him with a simple smile. He would lose his temper when he was around you and that drove him crazy. If you wanted, he would be in the palm of your hand. He had to keep you as far away from him as possible to prevent the situation from getting worse for him.
“Just go train already,” Sukuna ordered in a grumpy tone, turning his gaze to an empty document to avoid seeing you.
It was a shame he hadn't asked you to marry him yet, but the king really did look busy. You could see the physical effect that being locked up in his office for so long had caused. He had purple eye bags, his posture was stiff, and his eyes scanned the document lazily. “Maybe later,” you thought disappointed before taking the quiver with pink feathered arrows.
“Yes, my king,” you replied with a bow to leave.
“We must leave then,” Kenjaku made you second.
“Who gave you permission to leave?” Sukuna ordered him.
The master was surprised at that. You and Kenjaku shared a confused look, but you decided to obey the king so as not to cause any more inconvenience. Your legs walked as quickly as possible, closing the door behind you as you left the office. Sukuna’s hands relaxed as he no longer had to keep his emotions in check. After making sure you had already left, Kenjaku approached the king.
“Why so secretive, my king?” Kenjaku inquired curiously.
“It’s not a secret, it’s just that she’s not ready to know what I’m planning yet.” Sukuna got up from the desk to take one of the scrolls that were displayed on a bookshelf. He unrolled the scroll with a snap to reveal an updated map of the great world they knew.
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It was a large map made from parchment and black ink with wonderful detail. It showed all the important kingdoms and places of interest that made up the world. The Kingdom of Sukuna and the Kingdom of Jogo were to the west, the kingdoms of Gojo, Geto and Yaga; to the north. The kingdoms of Zen'in and Nanami; to the east, and finally, the Kingdom of Tsukumo was to the southeast. Currently, the great tyrant owned the east and planned to expand soon.
"I'm going to declare war on the Zen'in," Sukuna announced, pointing at the large territory with his finger.
Kenjaku looked at him impressed, but not surprised. He knew that one day the king would not be satisfied with keeping the infested lands with only curses, so he would go to conquer human lands. Kenjaku glanced at Uraume out of the corner of his eye, who had not said a single word the entire time they were there. He expected nothing less from the shadow of his majesty.
“Wow, how ambitious,” Kenjaku commented while looking at the map. “May I know why you made that decision?” He returned his gaze to the king with curiosity.
“The Gojo Kingdom and the Geto Kingdom are allied, so an invasion could be complicated with my current troops. The Nanami Kingdom, Tsukumo and Yaga are small but distant. They will be my next targets once I have the Zen'in.” Everything the king said made sense, but there was still a small kingdom that was at the equator of the world to consider.
“What about the Kamo Kingdom? It is small and right in front of the Jogo Kingdom. It is the perfect target.”
“How many times have Commander Mahito and his troops tried to kill them?” Sukuna asked him seriously. Kenjaku gulped at that indirect accusation.
“I have already lost count, my king,” he answered, embarrassed by his comrade.
“They may be a small kingdom, but they are stupidly powerful. They are watching their lands at all hours for living so close to the Jogo kingdom. If anyone is ready for an invasion, it is them.” Sukuna explained. "As this is my first invasion into the heart of a kingdom, I have spent all this time carefully choosing my first victim. Because once I do, the other kingdoms will know what awaits them."
"If you have already decided, I am ready to obey your orders as always." Kenjaku gave a bow of respect that Sukuna completely ignored to look at the window.
"My plan will be carried out once I secure the life of my heir, in case everything goes wrong," Sukuna explained. "During that time, you will take care of the troops of the Jogo kingdom."
"And what about the education of the miss?" Kenjaku asked worriedly.
"I already have that covered." Sukuna answered.
"So what is the first step?" Kenjaku inquired.
“Wait for the Zen’in to make the first move.”
You left your room after finishing getting ready for the day of training that awaited you. You had decided that from now on you would use Yorozu's dresses to train since they were lighter than yours, perfect for moving with complete freedom. Archery is a sport that requires complete mobility of the upper body, so it is annoying to wear elegant dresses that require a corset. You were heading to the courtyard, moving your shoulders in circles to warm up on the way, until you ran into that kind servant. He was dusting off an obsidian vase propped on a marble column with great laziness.
"Did everything go well with the king, miss?" The man asked you when he noticed your presence.
"Yes, he gave me a new bow." You showed it to him to show it off. He was amazed to see it.
"It is very beautiful. It is made with the best fiberglass and carbon. It must have cost the king a good fortune." He explained as he took it to examine it carefully.
“It's obvious that you know about this,” you said, somewhat surprised, taking back your bow.
“Of course I know, I was a hunter before I was a servant,” he replied.
“Really?” You asked, fascinated. The gentleman was going to answer, but another servant, who was passing by, intercepted their conversation.
“Wasuke, leave the lady alone and get back to work!” The servant scolded him angrily.
“Shut your mouth, idiot!” Wasuke replied in the same tone.
That sudden change in attitude took you by surprise. Now you understood why Mrs. Inoue said he was a grumpy man. One moment he could be a kind man and, the next, someone extremely rude.
“In fact, he is working. He is going to help me train,” you defended him. “Isn't that right, Wasuke?” You gave him a knowing wink.
“Of course, miss.” He gave you a slight smile when he realized what you were planning.
The other servant rolled his eyes and walked back the way he came, muttering insults under his breath. Typical attitude for an 80-year-old man. You and Wasuke looked at each other knowingly before smiling at each other as if you had done some mischief.
“I shall warn you that I am a very strict master,” Wasuke warned you.
“Just what I need,” you told him. “My name is Y/n,” you introduced yourself with a bow of respect to your new master.
“Everyone knows who you are,” he joked. “My name is Wasuke Itadori. It will be an honor to train you.” You had a good feeling about this.
Wasuke shouted encouragements at you while you barely did push-ups. As soon as you reached the parade ground, he told you that you were the weakest woman he had ever met in his life, so he forced you to do different exercises to strengthen your arms, shoulders, and back. Your weak muscles could barely support the weight of your own body each time you climbed up, keeping your back as straight as possible. You sweated, even in places you didn't know could sweat.
“Lift that neck, lady! Even a little girl can do 30 push-ups!” Wasuke yelled at you, small drops of saliva escaping from his mouth every time he opened his mouth.
“That's what I'm trying to do!” You complained between moans of exhaustion.
“I don't want a try, I want you to do it!” Wasuke spat. “Three more!”
With the little breath you had left, you lowered your body. The grass tickled the palms of your hands, but that wasn't going to stop you. You climbed up with your back straight and then lowered yourself again. This was more complicated than it seemed. Wasuke kept yelling at you to finish the simple exercise with a good grade. When he said he was a strict teacher, he meant it. You did the last push-up and collapsed to the ground. You groaned in pain as you breathed in the freshly cut grass.
“Get up now,” Wasuke ordered you. You reluctantly obeyed. “Now you are going to hold the bow in front of you for 5 minutes.” That sounded simple.
You took your bow, extended your arms in front of you and held the weapon with both hands. All was well until your limbs began to shiver from the exhaustion of the previous exercises. You tightened your grip on the bow to keep it from slipping from the sweat. You didn’t think you could last 5 minutes like that.
“Can I ask you something?” You tried to distract your brain from the exercise so that time would pass faster. “Why are you here? You look quite young compared to everyone else.”
Unlike the other servants, Wasuke was the youngest of them all, like you at the time. Most servants were between 60 and 80, he looked to be under 50. He had gray hair but still had dark hair, wrinkles from age, but he didn't look like a raisin, and sometimes he didn't hear well, but he was still strong.
“Do you want the truth?” He asked you. You nodded.
The truth was something he had a hard time telling. He was always a good liar to protect his family, especially his daughter. He didn't want her to live in fear because of living in a commune that was in constant danger of being attacked by a curse. His lies were the cause of his only daughter's giant curiosity. 
“My daughter died because of a curse. My wife committed suicide because she couldn't bear the mourning," Wasuke confessed with all the sadness in his heart. "I was a coward and couldn't follow the same path. That's why I'm waiting for the king to decide when it will be my time to join them." Your heart broke when you heard that. It was a tragic fate to suffer. "It's only fair that I too die at the hands of a curse. It's the price I must pay for not protecting my little girl." 
You knew perfectly well what he was talking about. There is no worse feeling than the helplessness of not being strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to protect what you love. You had lost your family by not being able to fight adversity. You couldn't even protect that child at the harvest for a day who was killed by your lack of courage. You tightened your bow again, this time, out of frustration that both of you had to go through that.
"I'm so sorry," you stammered. You didn't think his answer would be so heartbreaking.
“Don’t apologize. Life is cruel by nature,” Wasuke sighed.
“Still, I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I know what it’s like to lose your family.”
“I know, Miss.” 
Wasuke remembered seeing you cry and scream at the sky for your sin of killing your own blood. He had never seen a person suffer so much physically, emotionally, and psychologically. Even though he was behind the strong walls of the castle, a giant window separated them, and he had a deafness problem, he could still hear the powerful wails of your soul in mourning. Your palms open like books, the blood splattered on the canvas that was your body, and your face in sorrow. It was such a powerful image that he doubted he would ever forget it.
The loud bells woke them both from the memories of their sad pasts. It was the alarm announcing an invasion. This was the second time you had heard it in your time in the castle, and you had an idea of ​​who it could be. Several armed curses ran towards the castle entrance through the battlements that were on the walls, while incoherent instructions were shouted to you.
“Don’t let him pass!” A strong-bodied curse ordered as he summoned a dark screen that slowly covered the entire castle.
“We must go!” Wasuke asked you before taking your arm. You were going to follow him, but you remembered what Sukuna told you on your first day of training:
“In case of an invasion, you will need a cursed bow that allows you to use special arrows to kill curses and use it against sorcerers.” You tightened your grip on the cursed bow he had recently gifted you.
“You go. I will stay here as reinforcement,” you told him, removing your arm so he could leave alone. “Tell everyone to prepare to escape if it gets worse.”
“Are you sure, miss?” Wasuke asked.
“It is an order,” you said, sure.
Wasuke looked at the entrance one last time and nodded, accepting the order you had given him. He returned to the castle at a quick pace to do what he had just been asked to do. You looked ahead before pulling an arrow from your quiver to load your bow. You were completely alone in the courtyard, as all the curses were either outside the castle or on the perimeter. You could only hear the war cries of the curses. You gulped, shaking at not knowing what was going on the other side. You had an idea, but you weren't sure.
The screams turned into wails in a moment. You gripped your bow, mentally preparing for your turn to engage in battle. Though, you were sure you wouldn’t be alone. There was Kenjaku and Uraume to fight next to you. Sukuna can defeat any enemy in the blink of an eye. He would take down this strong foe, wouldn’t he?
The curse screen dissipated into the air, announcing that this curse was annihilated. The chains of the drawbridge began to jingle, and the castle gate swung open. The large bridge fell into place, the ground beneath your feet rumbling. It shook you completely, staggering you in place. You tightly gripped your bow and aimed it at the invader. “A man?” you thought, faltering in your shot.
A tall man, great posture and immaculate aura, walked in confidently, leaving all the curses behind, turning into ash. His spotless black boots thudded against the thick wood, announcing his arrival. His splendid bottle-green military uniform had several gold medals decorating his chest, a black leather belt, and dark pants. He smiled proudly as he combed his blonde hair with black tips back with his fingers.
“Oh?” He stopped upon entering, staring at you in disbelief for a second, as if he had entered the wrong house by accident. “Where is the white-haired guy of questionable sex? He is the one who always greets me,” he asked, confused.
“Did you kill all the curses?” You asked, surprised to see so much ash evaporating into the air.
“You must be new.” The man smiled and confidently approached you. Not knowing his intentions, you stretched the string to load the bow to its limit, but this did not make him stop. “It is a very large weapon, do you know how to use it? I could teach you.” He spoke to you as if you were stupid. You frowned further, this stranger's attitude starting to bother you.
You had recently realized that people like him were the type you disliked the most. Self-centered people who think they can do whatever they please. Yorozu had given you the tools to deal with people like this. You forgave her because she was your sister, but him? This guy was a complete stranger to whom you owed nothing.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” You questioned with the most demanding tone you could fake, you had copied it from Sukuna from hearing it so much.
“I am Commander Naoya Zen'in,” he announced himself with a proud smile. “So I was right,” you thought.
You had only been a servant in the castle for a short time when you heard that name for the first time. You were washing the king's long robes in the backyard with a few other maids. Your fingers were beginning to wrinkle like they do from being in the soapy water for so long. The quiet and the voices of the gossiping maids kept you company. The little peace of the task was interrupted by the alarm bells that echoed throughout the castle. You stopped at the strange noise, having no idea what you were supposed to do.
“An invasion,” one of the servants announced, surprisingly calm.
“Do you think it's Naoya Zen'in?” Another servant, one who had been in the castle the longest, asked, somewhat excited.
“Winter is almost over, most likely,” Her coworker answered, wiping her hands on her apron after finishing her task.
“Who is Naoya Zen'in?” You asked them, butting into the conversation.
“A very handsome commander from an enemy kingdom who comes every year to deliver a letter to the king,” the first one answered. “Let's go see him,” she invited you to go with them to the entrance of the castle.
“No, thank you. I still have to finish washing this,” you politely declined.
The three ladies quickened their pace to find out if it was the man they could see annually. You looked at them curiously. “Was that man so attractive that you had to see him in person?” You wondered. Now you were curious to see this man, but you had a task to finish. You dipped your hands into the soapy water again to try to remove the stubborn blood stains from the king's white robes.
Now you understand why this man caused such a stir among the maids. Someone with such a presence had not been seen since Geto Suguru's corpse appeared in these parts. You looked towards the window that overlooked the great hall, a small group of ladies greeted Naoya from the safe point. The flattered young man returned the gesture.
“Women being women,” he sighed with a big smile. “Anyway, I have an important letter from Zen'in.”
“You can give it to me and leave,” you told him without lowering your bow.
“I think you don't understand your position as a female,” Naoya came closer without a hint of fear nor respect for you. “You're not going to be able to stop me.”
“No!” You shouted, making him stop at the loud objection. “You're the one who doesn't understand.” You lowered your torso so that the arrow's trajectory would change from his torso to his face. “One shot, and you're a dead man, commander Zen'in.”
Naoya smiled at the offense. Not because of the clear threat of death, but because a woman thought she could be a match against him. You and your pink bow were nothing compared to him. A replaceable servant couldn't be in front of a great commander of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world. He was about to teach you a lesson, and it would be the hard way.
"Are you sure you don't want me to save you? I doubt a girl as weak as you would survive long here," Naoya offered, giving you one last chance to redeem yourself.
"I don't need you to save me," you spat angrily.
"Fine," Naoya pulled a knife from his back, spinning it in the palm of his hand to wield it. "Whatever you say."
You let go of the rope when you clearly saw his intentions to hurt you, and the arrow flew into his face. He dodged it with his knife before lunging at you in the blink of an eye. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and his knife was already at your throat. It had all happened too fast. You had no idea how he had reached you so quickly. The blade swung down as Naoya's smile grew wider. You raised your hand to deflect it, but it wasn't going to make it in time. It came so fast that you couldn't even close your eyes to await your fate.
Out of nowhere, a gigantic fist sent Naoya flying, completely away from you. The powerful commander ended up being slammed into the nearest wall. Naoya groaned in pain before falling to the ground. You were perplexed at how bizarre that had been. You touched your neck on instinct, you didn't have a scratch on it. You sat down on the grass to look around for your unexpected savior.
At first glance, he looked like any other human, but up close, things were different. He was a curse with skin covered in stitches as if his body was made of patches. He had long, blue-gray hair that reached past his neck, and was divided into three large locks with bows at the ends. He also dressed like any other human. He was wearing a black shawl that separated into three pieces on the left sleeve and matching pants with white shoes.
“I'm just arriving, and they're already welcoming me with a sorcerer to kill, how fun!” The curse exclaimed as excited as a child in the park.
Naoya stood up with difficulty, dusting off his uniform. You stood up in the same way to retrieve your bow and load it with another arrow. You approached the curse with confidence, since it had saved you, even if it had only been for its own entertainment.
“Are you okay, miss?” The curse asked you with a big smile without taking your eyes off Naoya.
“Yes, I am fine. Thank you,” You told him, along with a small bow. “Who are you?”
“My name is Mahito, I am the commander of the Jogo kingdom. You must be the lady that the king ordered me to protect.” He introduced himself. “Did the king ask you that?” You asked yourself surprised. “So let me take care of this stupid sorcerer.”
“Who are you calling stupid, you fucking curse?!” Zen'in exclaimed before launching into combat for a second round.
Mahito pushed you away suddenly to transform his arms into two tentacles with dozens of knives on them and run towards his fast opponent. Naoya's knife challenged Mahito's along with the clicking of metals. The curse laughed as if it were a game, angering Naoya even more for underestimating him. They were both moving at speeds your eyes could barely keep up with, but you loaded your bow with another arrow anyway. You tried to aim for Naoya, but he was stupidly fast and Mahito was in the way. “Maybe it’s best I don’t get involved now,” you thought with some disappointment.
Mahito changed one of his tentacles into a large sword that fell on top of Zen'in. Naoya barely dodged it, his breathing ragged from the cursed energy he was expending by keeping his technique active for so long. "Who is this guy?!" He thought annoyed before moving away with a couple of backflips until he landed on his feet.
"Fine, you win..." Naoya took the envelope out of his jacket and threw it at you like a ninja star, landing on the grass in front of you. "Just for today," he said before running towards the nearest wall to climb it and escape.
"Oh, not so fast!" You exclaimed annoyed before pulling the rope.
You looked for a target before he left your sight. You focused on his back, which was the area that was free, as he climbed the wall as if he were an agile ant. You let go of the rope and the arrow flew through the air. Naoya saw it coming and dodged out of its path, but the arrow unexpectedly changed its trajectory and stuck in his back. Naoya bit his tongue to stop himself from letting out a cry of pain and continuing on his escape route. In less than a second, he had disappeared from your sight and Mahito's.
"Ah, the king is going to scold me for running away!" Mahito whined, disappointed in his efforts.
"How come that arrow didn't stop him?" You asked yourself confused. Clearly, it hit him, but he still slipped out of your hands like a damn cockroach.
"Those Zen'in have a very strong pride. That's probably what it was," Mahito complained. "But you're very good." He gave you a thumbs up. You smiled slightly.
You looked back at the card that was lying on the grass. You picked it up to examine it. It was a brown envelope with the Zen'in Kingdom's crest stamped on a wax seal at the opening. A purple orchid on the stamp decorated the envelope, giving the package a more elegant touch.
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“Gimme that,” Mahito snatched it from you, ready to open it.
“You shouldn't open it,” you warned him. “It's for the king.”
“It's from an enemy,” Mahito said as he looked for a way to open it without destroying the contents. “It could contain poison, activate some bomb or a weird technique they made up. Believe me, these Zen'in are capable of anything.”
Mahito pushed you roughly to get you away from the possible threat. You had no choice but to listen to him. This was an unusual curse. He had a playful attitude, very different from what you imagined a commander should have. You covered your ears as soon as he finally opened the envelope, in case it was a bomb. Instead of a glass or smoke bomb, it turned out to be a confetti bomb. It shot towards Mahito's face, surprising him immediately, as a colored piece of paper fell into his eye.
“Oh!” You quickly approached him. Mahito rubbed his eyes in an attempt to get it off. “Let me see,” you asked.
You grabbed his chin and pulled his hands away to meet his different eyes, since his left eye was navy blue and the other, gray. Even though it was a strange looking curse, his eyes were very pretty. You blew into his eye so that the paper flew away. Once near the tear duct, you reached for it with your thumb to remove it completely.
Your touch was very kind and warm. Mahito was so used to humans treating him so badly that it was a little uncomfortable for him that you were treating him so calmly and with such appreciation. He now understood why Sukuna had chosen you as the future queen, you were a special human.
“That's it,” you smiled at him. “What does the letter say?”
“You read it, my eye hurts,” Mahito reluctantly gave it to you, rubbing his injured eye.
You opened the envelope to check its contents. You thought it was a declaration of war or some important meeting, but no. Nothing like it. Your mouth dropped to the floor as soon as you saw what it was.
Open fanfic commissions!
Masterlist.
Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @catobsessedlady
(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)
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sister-lucifer · 1 day
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Taken To Another World 
⊹₊⟡⋆A Multifandom Fantasy AU Themed 5K Celebration Writing Challenge⊹₊⟡⋆
Special thanks to @ghostboneswrites2 for inspiring this! 
Interested? Keep reading! 
There will be two prompts for each genre; a pair for fluff, a pair for smut, a pair for angst, and a pair for horror. Each prompt comes with its own criteria, so read carefully! 
How To Participate: 
Reblog this post (for reach! thanks!) 
Pick a prompt (or multiple) 
Write your fic 
Post it and tag me (feel free to send it to me directly if I don’t see it!) 
Use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge 
The fandoms this challenge is open to are as follows: 
Obey Me!, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, Batman (and all related media), Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure (all parts), and any original characters/universes.
Don’t see your fandom? You’re still free to use these prompts (and please tag me if you do so I can see it,) but it unfortunately will not count as an entry for this challenge!
Rules: 
Feel free to pick multiple prompts, but you cannot enter more than one fic per prompt! 
The fics can be part of your own ongoing series, but they must be able to stand alone as their own piece without the additional context of the series 
Please state which prompt you chose somewhere on your post 
Feel free to cross post your work to another site such as Ao3, but please, do mention that it was part of my challenge 
Anyone can participate in this challenge, however I ask that minors stay away from the NSFW prompts 
You are free to bend the prompts as you wish, there is no mandatory time period or setting 
My inbox and messages are always open if you need to ask questions, consult me, or just want to discuss ideas!
The fics can be Character x Reader, Character x OC, or Character x Character; relationships can be platonic or romantic as you wish
Some prompts are written with pairs in mind; feel free to modify this to fit in as many characters as you’d like. Poly relationships included!
Absolutely NO incest OR pedophilia under any circumstances 
NO AI, NO using other people’s writing, and NO using a piece you’ve already written
Pay attention to the criteria! Prompt 1 will have a required quote, and Prompt 2 will have a required plot point/action
The Deadline is currently undecided. This will be updated soon 
Winners: 
I will choose up to 3 finalists for each prompt.  The finalists will be presented in a poll, and the readers will choose the winner. 
The winner of each prompt will get their own shoutout/promo post including an analysis of what I liked about their fic, & at least 3 fics I recommend from them and why. 
Does all that sound like fun? Good! Here’s your prompts:
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Over The River, Through The Woods…
Fluff + Faeries
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Prompt 1:  In a fit of rebellion, a naive royal flees from the castle and into the woods. They stumble upon a faerie who, against all they’ve ever been taught, seems rather…kind. 
Necessary Criteria: “Anyone can do a good thing if they try.” / “Well…how often do you try?”
Prompt 2: Fae don’t often leave their villages, except to gather. Unfortunately, one foolish faerie has found themself entangled in a trap left behind by a human hunter. Even worse, the human has returned to see what they’ve caught; although, they seem far more curious than hostile. 
Necessary Criteria: One of the characters teaches the other a new word in their native tongue. 
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Magic Begins In Superstition, And Ends In Science…
Angst + Alchemy 
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Prompt 1: The job of an alchemist’s apprentice is rarely an easy one. Magic is a fickle mistress, after all. When the apprentice’s companion tries to pull them away from their work, the argument gets heated, until the pressure becomes too much and causes an intense explosion…literally. 
Necessary Criteria: “You’re not even smart enough to understand what I do, and you think you get to tell me when to stop working?!”
Prompt 2: The alchemist’s work is starting to consume them. Blinded by their pursuit of knowledge, they recklessly decide to slip a bit of their newest experimental concoction into their companion’s meal without their knowledge. The alchemist convinces themselves this is all for the greater good, and surely nothing all that bad could happen, but soon comes to regret it. 
Necessary Criteria: A horrible transformation. 
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The Tongue May Be Twice As Sharp And Thrice As Lethal As The Blade…
Smut + Swords 
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Prompt 1: A rivalry between two swordsman gets a bit out of hand when the pair decide to make a salacious bet over a duel: whoever loses must play submissive to the other, starting from the moment they drop their sword. 
Necessary Criteria: “Don’t think I’ll surrender that easily.” / “Mm, I didn’t think you would…I like it so much more when you’re fiery.”
Prompt 2: A courageous knight rescues a royal from the clutches of peril, and their majesty simply can’t let their hero leave without thoroughly rewarding them for such bravery. 
Necessary Criteria: The pair narrowly avoid being caught in the act. 
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Cursed Is The Man Who Dies, But The Evil Done By Him Survives…
Horror + Hexes
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Prompt 1: Foolish explorers accidentally wander into a witch’s garden. One of them can’t resist plucking a berry from a bush, not giving it a second thought as they swallow it down, only for the horrific consequences of a curse to start taking form the next day. 
Necessary Criteria: “Please…you have to tell me you know how to make this stop.” 
Prompt 2: While treasure hoarding is generally frowned upon among honorable bounty hunters, some simply can’t kick the habit. This quickly proves to be a terrible mistake, though, as a cursed trinket starts to warp its owner’s mind and plunge them into a darkness that turns them on the one they love most. 
Necessary Criteria: Creative use of an everyday object as a weapon. 
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Final Reminders:
Most importantly: Have Fun! 
Make sure to read the rules carefully! 
You’re always free to ask questions! 
Tag me in your entry + use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge! 
Happy Writing, everyone!
(even if you don’t plan to participate, please reblog and share this post so others will see it!)
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novaursa · 1 day
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My Blood And Bone
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- Summary: There were many times when Maegor tried to win your favor, before they locked you away. And he never forgot their insolence.
- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen
- Note: These events happen before Fire and Blood.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne
- A/N: This was requested by @oxymakestheworldgoround , so here is more Maegor. 🙂
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Aegonfort was a cage gilded in gold, its walls bearing witness to the secrets and treachery that brewed within. It was here, beneath the shadows of the Iron Throne, that your uncle's gaze followed you, the weight of his presence suffocating and inescapable. He had always been there, lingering in the periphery, his stormy eyes dark with something unspoken, something forbidden.
You were Y/N Targaryen, second daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon, a jewel in the crown that your father held with trembling hands. But jewels were meant to be coveted, and Maegor Targaryen was not a man content to admire from afar. He was fire and fury, a beast unchained, and you were the treasure he sought to claim, no matter the cost.
It began with a gift, a blade forged in the fires of Dragonstone, its steel as dark as his intentions. “For you, niece,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, the sword’s hilt pressing against your palm. “To keep you safe.”
Your father had frowned at the sight, his unease palpable. “She is a princess, not a warrior, brother,” he had said, his tone edged with the discomfort of a man who knew his words were futile. But Maegor’s smile was sharp, a predator’s smile.
“A princess should know how to defend herself, should she not?” His gaze flickered to you then, the intensity of it making your breath hitch. “It would be a shame for her to be unprepared should danger arise.”
The court whispered, of course. They always did. Maegor’s infatuation was no secret, nor was the growing tension between him and your father. But it was Visenya, the Dowager Queen, who saw what others chose to ignore. She watched with the keen eyes of a dragon, her silence a tacit approval of her son’s desire, for she, too, believed in the old ways, in the purity of Valyrian blood.
When Maegor took you riding on Balerion, the Black Dread, it was not a request but a command. “Come, niece,” he had said, his hand outstretched, the great dragon’s scales glistening like obsidian beneath the sun. “Let me show you the sky.”
You hesitated, your father’s warning echoing in your ears, but the defiance in Maegor’s gaze was irresistible. You took his hand, and the world fell away beneath you, the wind whipping your hair as the dragon soared higher and higher. His arms encircled you, strong and unyielding, and for a moment, you felt as though you were truly flying, free from the chains that bound you.
But Maegor was not content with mere flights of fancy. He sought to claim you in ways that words could not express, his touches lingering, his gaze possessive. When he found you alone in the godswood, your fingers trailing through the cool waters of the pond, his presence was a shadow that loomed over you, heavy and demanding.
“You should not be out here alone, niece,” he said, his voice a growl that sent shivers down your spine. “The court is full of vipers.”
You looked up at him, your defiance flickering like a flame. “And what are you, Uncle, if not the greatest viper of all?”
His laughter was dark, a sound that resonated in your bones. “Perhaps,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing against your cheek. “But I am a viper who would kill for you, who would burn the world to keep you safe.”
Your heart pounded, your breath catching as his fingers trailed down your neck, a whisper of a touch that spoke of desires long suppressed. “You are wed, Uncle. The gods forbid such thoughts.”
“The gods,” he spat, his eyes blazing with fury, “have never cared for me, nor I for them. They saddled me with a barren bride, denied me the one thing I desire most. Why should I bow to them now?”
His words were blasphemy, and yet there was a truth in them, a fire that kindled something dangerous within you. But before you could speak, before you could give voice to the storm raging inside you, your father’s voice cut through the stillness.
“Maegor!”
King Aenys stood at the edge of the grove, his face pale with anger, his hands trembling. “I will not allow this,” he said, his voice shaking with the force of his will. “You will not defile my daughter, my blood, with your twisted desires.”
Maegor’s eyes narrowed, the cold fury in them a stark contrast to the heat of his words. “You think you can keep her from me, brother? You think your weak words and weaker will can stand against what is meant to be?”
“She is not meant for you!” Aenys’s voice cracked, the desperation in it ringing clear. “She is a child, my child. You will leave her be, or I will see you banished, see you—”
“See me what, Aenys?” Maegor stepped forward, his presence towering, his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. “See me banished again, as you did before? Send me away and hope that will be enough to keep her from me?”
The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with the unspoken threat that hung between them. Your heart raced, your eyes darting between your father and your uncle, caught in the tempest of their rage.
“You will leave her be,” Aenys said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Or I will see you destroyed, brother or not.”
For a long moment, Maegor said nothing, his gaze locked on you, the intensity of it searing into your soul. Then, slowly, he inclined his head, a mocking smile twisting his lips.
“As you command, my king.” The words dripped with venom, but he turned away, the promise of something dark and dangerous lingering in the air as he left.
Your father sagged, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. “I’m so sorry.”
You could only nod, the ache in your chest a hollow, aching thing. For in that moment, you knew that Maegor Targaryen was not a man who could be denied forever. He was fire, and fire would always find a way to consume what it desired most.
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Aegonfort buzzed with the vibrant energy of your name day celebrations, a festival of color and laughter. Musicians played lively tunes, their melodies weaving through the air, while courtiers and lords offered their congratulations and admiration. It was a day meant for joy, for the lavish display of courtly grandeur, but beneath the surface, tension simmered, a crack in the facade.
King Aenys, your father, had spared no expense in organizing the grand hunt in your honor. Noblemen mounted their steeds, hounds barked eagerly, and the banners of House Targaryen fluttered in the breeze as the hunt began in earnest. You stood beside your mother, Queen Alyssa, her smile warm but her eyes watchful, ever the vigilant protector.
Yet it was not the festive cheer that held your attention; it was the shadow that loomed on the edges of the gathering, the one presence that seemed to darken the day’s radiance. Maegor, your uncle, clad in black armor that gleamed ominously under the sun, was a brooding storm amidst the celebration. His gaze lingered on you, piercing and unrelenting, and it took all your composure to return his stare with a steady, if uncertain, gaze.
He had barely participated in the hunt itself, choosing instead to ride apart from the others, his attention fixed on something far more personal. You could feel it, that coiled tension within him, the intent that hummed like a drawn bowstring. And then he was gone, vanished into the woods, leaving a wake of unease behind him.
Hours passed, and the hunt returned, triumphant. Stags and boars were brought forth, the prizes of the chase, their bodies laid at the king’s feet as an offering to your honor. Applause rang out, voices cheering, but the absence of Maegor’s dark figure loomed over the festivities like a shadow.
Then, like a harbinger of doom, he appeared.
He rode into the courtyard, alone, his horse’s flanks lathered in sweat. Draped over the saddle, still warm and bleeding, was the heart of a great stag, its size and weight staggering. The sight drew gasps from the crowd, the murmurs of celebration turning to hushed whispers of shock and awe.
“For you, niece,” he said, his voice carrying over the stunned silence. He dismounted, lifting the bloody trophy with a strength that seemed almost inhuman. “A gift, to honor your name day.”
The heart, dark and glistening, dripped blood onto the pristine stones of the courtyard as he carried it to you. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes locked on the macabre offering. It was a brutal, savage gift, one that spoke of conquest and possession, of a man willing to tear the heart from the chest of a beast to lay it at your feet.
Queen Alyssa was the first to react, her face paling as she stepped forward, her voice tight with barely concealed horror. “Maegor, what is this madness?”
He ignored her, his gaze fixed on you, a challenge in his eyes. “A stag’s heart, the very symbol of life and power. To hold it in your hands is to understand what it means to conquer, to take what you desire and make it your own.”
Your hands shook as you reached out, hesitating before you touched the still-warm flesh, the blood staining your fingers. You understood the meaning, the dark symbolism of his gift. He was offering you more than a bloody trophy; he was offering his loyalty, his devotion, his savage, unyielding heart.
But your father, King Aenys, would not have it.
“Enough!” His voice cracked like a whip, the command echoing off the stone walls. He stepped forward, his face twisted with fury and disgust. “This is an insult, Maegor! A desecration of my daughter’s name day! How dare you bring such… such barbarity into my court?”
Maegor’s lips curled into a mocking smile, his gaze never wavering from yours. “An insult, brother? This is a gift, a token of my esteem. Or have you forgotten what it means to be Targaryen, to embrace the fire and blood of our heritage?”
“Do not twist our words to justify your depravity!” Alyssa’s voice trembled with rage, her hand gripping your arm as if to shield you from the grotesque spectacle. “This is not the way of things, not in our family, not in our court.”
“And what is our way, then?” Maegor’s voice was a low snarl, the barely restrained fury in it sending a shiver down your spine. “To bow and scrape before the whims of men who do not understand us? To deny the bond that is ours by right of blood, of fire?”
Aenys stepped between you and Maegor, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the gesture more symbolic than threatening. “You will cease this, Maegor. You will leave her be. She is not yours to claim, not now, not ever.”
The air crackled with dread, the crowd holding its breath as the brothers faced each other, the king and the warrior, blood against blood. For a moment, you feared that Maegor might strike, that his rage would explode into violence right there in the courtyard, but then he laughed, a sound devoid of humor, harsh and cold.
“You are a fool, Aenys,” he said, his voice thick with disdain. “You think you can keep her from me, lock her away, and all will be well? She is not a prize to be hidden, not a thing to be kept on a shelf. She is Targaryen, as am I, and we are meant for more than this.”
“Enough!” Aenys roared once more, his face flushed with anger. “You will leave this place, Maegor. Leave now, or I will have you thrown out. I will not tolerate your madness, not on this day, not ever again.”
For a long, tense moment, Maegor stood still, his gaze flickering to you one last time, his eyes dark with something raw and terrible. Then, with a slow, mocking bow, he turned and mounted his horse, the bloody heart still clutched in his hand.
“As you command, brother,” he said, his voice a dangerous purr. “But remember this: I do not forget. I do not forgive.”
And with that, he spurred his horse and rode out of the courtyard, the sound of hooves striking against stone fading into the distance. You watched him go, your heart heavy with a mixture of fear and something you dared not name, the blood on your hands drying as the echoes of the argument lingered in the stillness.
It was the last time you saw him before everything changed, before you were spirited away to Dragonstone, a prisoner in all but name, and Maegor was exiled to the cold, distant lands of Essos. The heart of the stag, the symbol of his twisted devotion, haunted your dreams for years to come, a reminder of what had been offered, and what had been lost.
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cigarett3wif3 · 2 days
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TOMB FOR TWO
Rockstar Leon S. Kennedy x model reader | AO3 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, drugs and alcohol addiction implied, Leon is scumbag i guess, blowjob, use of coke, deepthroat i guess, dirty talk. tags: @ivmp words: 2,934
notes: so.... dont do drugs/alcohol and idk i feel like i need to clarify, some stuff here i heard in real life directly from insufferable men, so don't interract with such kind of people for ur own good.
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Leon loves ladies, he was always the kind of man who loved every woman, if she was attractive enough to his taste of course. Also, he considered himself a nice guy, but a lot of girls didn’t get him. It got a lot worse when he cheated on his ex-girlfriend, after that nasty breakup and a slap he received, it felt like she had put a curse on him. Maybe he is cursed, it would explain why his attempts to form established relationships always failed. At least the passion for music was always with him, no matter how hard it was for him and it has helped indeed him in many areas; gaining more ego and becoming finally a rockstar, which certainly has helped him find lovers to warm his bed.
In his mind, he has already created his own list of preferences, models were always a big ‘no’ cause pretty dolls in the majority were the most annoying ones in his honest and ‘humble’ opinion. A lot of them are anorectic, and Leon doesn’t need a girl whose only hard thing in her mouth would have been his dick. Also, pretty women are usually really intimidating and have high standards, he doesn’t want to risk a possible denial. Cool guys don’t get hurt.
But that list didn’t help him at all, it didn’t prevent him from getting involved with you so quickly. A model and you looked sick for his tastes, dark circles under your eyes and lack of any vivid light in them too. He put two and two together, probably you did often drugs and he didn’t know which ones, he never asked. Your first appearance was at one of the events where his band performed and you were bored to death, gaze leaped around the surroundings, trying to find something more interesting to linger on than whatever this place is. Your pupils were dilated as hell and your jaw was tensed, making those useless movements and biting inside of your cheeks. He didn’t give much thought and he was drunk already while your fingertips were tracing his jaw and a sparkle in your eyes was enough for him. And after all, you agreed to come with him. His expectations weren’t high, another quick one-night stand he would forget about, but after stepping into his apartment you got sick. Vomiting in his toilet until it became quiet and he decided to check, after all, he is a good guy, really. And he doesn’t need a corpse in his flat. Pulling your hair to tilt your face towards him and witness your exhausted expression; your lips parted with saliva glistening on them and circles under your half-lidded eyes got more evident and darker. All this combined led to him having the hardest boner he has ever had.
Your presence in his life only gave him a boner and a headache, also an urge to strangle and shake you like a doll, but he never had enough strength to leave you behind and forget everything related to you. He tried, his mind would fill with thoughts about you, leading to jerk off a lot when he is sober and not recording music. His drunk ass would always crawl back to you, after feeling your eyes on him everywhere even when he was smoking out of a bar. Those billboards with your face, promoting some products and looking ethereal, without sickness all over your face, feeling your gaze as if it was only directed towards him. Those photos were the reasons his legs always lead him to your place, finding you already hammered as much as he is, if not worse, more than happy to let him spill his load in your mouth or pussy. After all, Leon is a simple man, not a romantic one, romanticism has died within him after that ‘undeserved’ slap.
Needles were a big ‘no’ for you, explaining they can leave marks and they are scary, also those are used by drug-addicted people which you believed you aren’t. After all, you like them thanks to your dear and generous friend who shares them with you. While Leon was an old-fashioned man, he has always preferred booze, even after finding himself in weird situations without any memories, only with pain pulsing in his head and hangover. You didn’t understand that at all, it has never brought you any good sensations, also alcohol has a distinct smell you have always hated and there is nothing sexy about it. That’s why Leon was always simple in your eyes, a rockstar with little to no existent layers in his personality; one hand with the bottle and the other one on his dick. In the end, both can destroy many lives.
Of course, whatever you both had going on gave you the possibility to visit his concerts without spending a penny. Leon has never asked if you like his music though, but still, he believes it is good, after all, there wouldn’t be a big female fanbase over anything? So there was never a thought behind his eyes to consider your tastes. Besides, you didn’t attend often, always brushing off your runway shows to which he was never invited. Not like he needed to be there, but still it made him feel a little bit bitter. Other reasons were similar to ‘I don’t want to’ and if to be honest, this isn’t a valid reason for his calls to be ignored.
This time you didn’t have other options, nor Leon would let you skip his performance. Soon understanding it was a mistake, you shouldn’t be here, cause during the entire concert his attention was drifting in between his music and you, trying to find you among many women. Every time he notices you not listening to the sound the instruments create, it fills him with bitterness and annoyance. Time passed slowly, finally finishing performance and emptying his flask quickly. He was tempted to leave you alone, to not give any warning, and get another girl from the crowd, but also this would be risky for a lot of reasons; first, he doesn’t have any condoms, and second, groupies are annoying and he doesn’t want to deal with them for a quick fuck today. The only solution he came across was to leave this place earlier and push you into his car.
The ride is okay, the only noise is some music coming from the car stereo. He twitched a little bit with the switch before, but he didn’t really listen to whatever was on until he recognized his own song. A nice touch. “Your music sucks” you say, breaking the silence which was only filled with his voice coming from the radio. This is new for you, music is his job, and what does a model know about it? His face turns to look at you for a brief moment, he is driving and he doesn’t want to get himself killed cause of you. “It doesn’t.” Leon protests quickly, but your voice interrupts him again, making him groan and want to stop the car. To strangle you. People love him! His groupies would be green with envy if they ever got to know about you. “It does” you say, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking through the window before rolling it down and letting fresh air coming in. The wind noise is ear beating, enough to give him a headache, nor does it help with his mood right now. Bashing noise to his ears, but you don’t care. Your voice fills the room, too bad it is loud enough to catch on and it is not mixed with the sound of the wind. The road is dark, and it is already hard to drive after consuming alcohol, but your voice makes this worse. “Your music never changes, mundane, same melody. Boring even, and generic. I don’t like it”
Then you stay silent, Leon’s mind is buzzing with only two thoughts in it: what a bitch you are, how he wants to shut you up with his dick and he needs to calm down, to let off steam. That’s three or four though. Math wasn’t his forte.
He pulled over his car, almost stumbling over from it as the chilly night breeze hit his face, filling his lungs. Refreshing and sobering in some way. It is dark, he didn’t even notice how he moved to your side and opened the door, looking down at your face with a blank stare, while his slow mind keeps processing your words. You shift on the seat of the car to face him with a raised eyebrow, looking so annoyed and confused by his attitude. Leon isn’t sure why he was hurt by your words, but this look was not new for him; every time a sentence would leave his mouth, your face would express an annoyance as if he just said the dumbest thing possible. You are probably just trying to mess with him and this always made him hornier, his cock would start stiffening in his jeans and even this isn’t an exception, like one of Pavlov’s dogs he is. Or this is just alcohol talking.
The inside of the car enlightens your features and it is maybe the only thing so bright in such a dark spot right now of the road. His index finger brushes over your lower lip, tracing the contour of soft flesh beneath his thickened skin after years of playing guitar. He can’t help but stare at your mouth, admiring the lipstick on it, looking clean and emphasizing the shape of your lips. Too bad his digit smeared the color a little bit over the form. You don’t notice that thank God, cause he doesn’t need another comment from you. Silence makes you much prettier. Your hand reaches for his thigh, brushing over the inner part and the annoyance in your gaze quickly changes to interest as it slowly travels down to the bulge which started to form already. Leon doesn’t know what magic you use on him, cause it is much easier to get even half-hard dick with you, while the majority of girls would waste his time and then cry about not being able to turn him on. He blamed this trouble on them, not on his best friend (booze). To not waste much time, you tuck out his cock from his pants.
Your fingers envelop his half-hard length, before stroking, spitting a mouthful of your saliva down on it. Spreading over the hardened skin with a quick and easy motion of your hand, your touch lingers on the spot below its tip which makes him groan lowly. His fingers tangle in your strands, pulling your face closer to his cock as a silent plea to sink your mouth down around him.
“Don’t play, come on,” Leon says, not noticing how his voice got hoarse. “Give it a kiss, doll” In the past, you would be annoyed at his words, but tonight you don’t mind, enjoying how pretty he is when he wants to shove his dick down your throat. Your lips press against his tip and kiss around it, teasing him and licking away precum, finally bobbing your head down. The warm and wet heat of your mouth envelops his cock, your tongue flicks along the shaft. Leon can feel himself getting harder and his hips buck back in response, letting quiet groans. But the bliss didn’t last a lot, you pop out his cock and slap it against your tongue, rubbing against your lips while keeping eye contact with his eyes. The sight is dirty, lipstick leaves its color on his wet and throbbing dick, intensifying the moment.
Until he noticed there was something under your silver sequin top, that caught his gaze only now. But also he doesn’t know what it may be, wondering silently and fixating on your chest. Or he is just seeing things, until your hand slightly lowers the edge of fabric to take the bag with white powder, satisfying his curiosity. The timing made him frown, almost convincing himself you could read his mind. But also, what should he have expected? Boobs would be nice, actually.
He isn’t going to deny a pleasure to see them. That’s why his hands reach for the edge of the fabric, pulling down to expose your breasts, nipples get harder at the contact with the cold air of the night. His fingers knead soft flesh, thumb and index pinch nipples to evoke your moans out, observing your face change even for a brief moment because of him until you slap away his hands. It was nice while it lasted. He watches how you make a thin white line on his cock, almost dripping some on your skirt, and letting a curse fall from your lips. If to be honest, this is his first time seeing you doing drugs in front of him. Also, there are too many ways to consume Coke, he heard about how some women shove it in their vagina, but he isn’t sure if this is true. You lean down and snort it away with an ‘ah’ leaving your lips, while rubbing your nose and blinking messily, trying to shake off some tears forming on your waterline. He was tempted to try, but you don’t share.
“Fuck, that was hot” Leon comments, letting a low whistle. Your hand pumps his cock in a steady rhythm.
The little pause was over, with a giggle and lightened expression on your face, coke does wonders. Your mouth starts giving kisses, before sucking on the tip more eagerly than before, and your tongue swirls in a circular motion around it. For a brief moment, you shift to the underside too by flicking over that sensitive spot, making his hips buck, pushing your head deeper to sink you down along the length. You can feel more saliva pooling in your mouth, slobbering over his cock now, and spit drips down onto his balls. The Coke has its visible influence now, dilated pupils are directed into his blue eyes, keeping eye contact. He knows that state of yours, being happy and confident to do anything, clinging and not letting him go away until powder’s effects don’t start to weaken. Your heart is beating loudly in your ears, not hearing those loud suction noises your mouth does which he adores. Leon’s fingers tighten his grip on your hair, tugging and pushing your head deeper, his tip kissing your throat and he groans, while your nose rubs against his happy trail. Your jaw is more relaxed, taking him deeply and you try to swallow the excess of saliva and his precum, so your throat tightens around his cock, he can feel you choking on his now twitching arousal. It is useless, you can feel saliva dripping not only on his sac now, but also from the corners of your mouth down to your collarbone. Leon pulls your head away before slamming with quick motion his hips against your face again. His cock is slick with your saliva, sloppily moving out and back into your mouth, constant stimulation of your tongue flicking against his head and at the base made his balls tighten signaling that his orgasm is approaching. Initially, his own moans are breathless, slowly starting to increase in volume, as he took more control in his own hands. His movements are erratic, the sight of your teary expensive mascara and lipstick ruined by him and leaving marks on his cock is one of many reasons to be alive, he thinks.
“Do you see yourself right now, huh?” He moans, shaking his head with disbelief, as you keep sucking him off sloppily, making more wet sounds that intensify and fill the air between you both. His voice is at the edge of quiet whine, needy moans reach your ears. “Yeah, that’s it, all you have to do is let my cock just slide in and out of your pretty mouth, doll”
He slams his hips for the last time burying his cock deep into your throat, the head grinds before twitching for a last time spurting out a load of cum. His fingers grip tighter, almost painfully, not letting you pull away and spit it out, swallowing the bitterness that fills your senses, making you gag more. The booze diet isn’t the best one. He lets you pull away, your tongue for the last time brushed his tip and he stands still, his breathing is unsteady and chaotic, while you wipe away the remaining saliva from your skin.
“So….” Leon interrupts the silence between them, he is speaking without giving too much thought, and he quickly pauses for a second, trying to organize a decent sentence. “What about… something formal? Between us I mean” Your eyes don’t even linger on his face after his question, the so-known-annoyance returns to your face and you pull down the sun visor to fix your makeup. “Ew, no” your voice expresses disgust at the thought of being more than just a quick hookup, you roll your eyes as your thumb cleans the smear of your lipstick. Your nose twitches still, even if the effect of the drug starts to lessen. “I don’t like you like that” “It was a joke,” he brushes off quickly, feeling his own body recovering from orgasm and wanting to get away from you, so the bitterness and disappointment would not irk him so much. “For God’s sake, smile at least.”
Story of his life, nothing new.
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louisisalarrie · 2 days
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helloooo sweet angels. welcome to the show!
I tend to answer and talk about a lot of bbg/2015 things on here and seem to attract a lot of newer fans & Larries (which is wonderful!!!) but I thought I’d just share some resources that you can refer to so there’s not so much back and forth in my inbox.
Arden (cosmicleeds) makes fantastic, super digestible videos recapping years, bbg, rbb & sbb and the big gay war etc., and I think it’s a really valuable way to kind of get your head around some stuff as socials, especially Twitter, have a lot of misinformation, fighting, wrong timelines, stuff that’s already been debunked etc.
so, here are a couple of faves that I recommend newer larries, or people who want refreshers, to watch as it’s a little less overwhelming than the 15k word essays we have on these topics that are hard to read about when you haven’t kind of been introduced to it initially
The Larry Stylinson Timeline - 2015
Larry denials and why they’re meaningless
RBB, SBB, & the Big Gay War
The difference between larry and the rest of 1D
there is a video on each year of Larry since 2010 too, so you can feel like you were there for it!
as always, I also highly recommend Allie’s (skepticalarrie) tags post if you want more of a read instead of a video, with so many masterposts and specific info on everything larry, and also louis and Harry individually
if you’re looking for fic recs or general larry/1d chats and a heap of receipts, Gina (twopoppies) is also very wonderful
and obviously there are a million other fantastic blogs and videos to watch, but I highly recommend those to start off with at least as they are based off facts and are very clear, as opposed to some wild reaching that goes on these days in certain parts of twitter etc.
we’re all here to be welcoming, have a chat, and be here for you to navigate this wild part of the fandom, and while there can be some nasty folks out there, remember that this is a welcoming place where we love love and we are a community who supports each other. the way it should be.
so, welcome baby larries, you’re in for a wild ride!
(also I’m very excited for this year’s recap - I want something crazy to go down the end of this year because damn rewatching 2015 took me right back to the days!)
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yolli-es · 19 hours
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Please, I'm really sorry
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Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, sadness, rude treatment, mentions of death
I doubt this is in character, so treat it as a silly sketch. Writing text is harder than headcanons..
MY ENGLISH IS BAD AND THERE MAY BE MEANING ERRORS
You adore Jinx; you love and tolerate her. Your acquaintance was unexpected, and your subsequent friendship was spontaneous. You were choking with tears after losing your mother when she found you. This girl saved you so easily, as if it were so easy. Jinx never told you about the past, but when the voices in her head became too loud, you didn't need an explanation. You saw how bad she becomes and what consequences it can bring. Afterwards, you promise yourself to always be there so that you can prevent the irreparable. This was not always successful.
After Silko died, things got really bad. Jinx tried to continue his work, to be strong and collected. But this is Jinx. Your Jinx. And she never was and never will be like this. Maybe that's why she's been so rude to you, taking it out on you because she's under so much stress. Sooner or later it will all end, and she will be able to look at you again without irritation.
You forgive Jinx for everything: the harsh words, the insults, the hits. Because she always apologizes after. And you don't care that it's not sincere at all. You love her; she is the only thing you have.
The day started out quite normally. You and Jinx were sitting in Silko's office, which is still called that way to this day, on the initiative of Jinx herself. It was all quite nice: she decided to share with you many thoughts about the future, which happened quite rarely. But then Sevika came in. And with her came terrible news. Shimmer production had been disrupted again. The enforcers blew up the plant, dealing with the guards there without any particular problems. And she just walked out after saying that. Just one look from Jinx made it clear how bad she was feeling right now,
"It's not your fault, and..." — you're interrupted by a rude "shut up." Jinx, who had been sitting on the table quite relaxed, now clutched her head, her eyes closed, and her breathing quickened. Just a few moments ago she was vulnerable, and now she's rude to you again. "You don't understand me at all," Jinx said in a breaking voice, hiding her face in her knees. It was painful to hear. We have been through a lot together. But she's worse off, and you step over yourself again: "I love you, Jinx. What do you want me to do?". You tell her this so often, so sincerely and naively. Her reaction to your words is always different; you can never guess, and now she again hits you: "I want you to stop being so useless and just help me." Jinx whispered, still struggling with her emotions. She hadn't let herself get angry, panicked, or sad that easily since Silko died. No tears. She kept herself under control. And is that what she thought all along? It's your fault; you're just doing a shitty job. Obviously, sitting here with her is not what she wanted. It looks so painful for you. The girl you love is suffering so much; why don't you just make it easier? That day you stayed, having endured many insults and a couple of blows.
Usually you stayed by Jinx's side, always supporting her and helping her with many tasks. For example, maintaining her authority in the city, keeping an eye out for possible rats nearby, and always saving your love from nervous breakdowns. But now you're by Sevika's side, at a shimmer production plant. You didn't tell Jinx anything; you didn't even think she would ask and worry. You need to act more decisively, as she wanted it. The task was simple: wait until the enforcers come here and destroy them. You were never a good fighter, just a decent shot. Your skills were enough to protect yourself on the streets of Zaun, but they were nothing against well-trained law enforcement officers. That's why you stayed on the sidelines, watching from above and covering Sevika.
You realized how much you screwed up with this shit when you found yourself in the middle of a shootout. Things didn't go according to plan when Sevika was shot, and now you had to save her. Letting the woman lean on you, you ran upstairs. The sounds of gunshots, explosions, and screams confirmed your fears: this plant is finished. Neither the shimmer nor the people were saved. Adrenaline was pumping through you, and you didn't notice anything except the cherished goal.
You reached a safe place and fell. The rest was like a dream. Sevika sat next to you, trying to close the open wound. She tied it with a rag, shouting something about the presence of shimmer nearby. The wound seems to be on your legs, chest, and head. It was painful and cold. Severe weakness. How the hell did enforcers get you? You couldn't think, let alone remember. This woman was shaking you, trying to make you think, but you had already given up. You had lost, and you had screwed up so badly, Jinx would never forgive you. Sevika shouted something, and you didn't really listen; you just couldn't. And then your gaze focused on a blue spot... Jinx? You wanted to look at her one last time. She may be disappointed in you, angry, or simply empty towards you, but all this will not matter as long as she is here. Your eyes closed for just a moment.
" ...orr..."—You can't see, only distantly hear. Such a nice sound; you've heard it before. The noise makes you open your eyes again. A flash of light disorientated you. Straining your eyes, you managed to make out a silhouette in front of you. It was Jinx, and... she was crying. She was in complete disarray, desperately holding your face. She bit her lips every time she wanted to swallow the lump in her throat and continue talking. She was talking to you. What was she saying? Your damn body is so weak. "Hold on, just breathe. Please, I'm really sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...",-She repeated it over and over while you felt the shimmer being injected into your body. You wanted to calm her down, to say "I love you" back. And all you did was watch silently. Your eyelids were so heavy, and your body suddenly seemed too weightless. You were being yelled at, shaken, and pricked with a shimmer stabbed over and over. And you were too weak to respond to it, closing your eyes one last time.
Jinx sincerely apologizes this time. It's a pity that your mind was too weak to realize this.
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it was short, unclear and stupid 🥴 Wrote this in a hurry while I'm taking a break from studying and writing other things.
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goodolddumbbanana · 16 hours
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[Solar x Servant Sun] I want to see the star with you
I take request to write fic. Go girl, give me the crackest ship you want it to write!!
here is for @noinoi999 (I couldn't tag your name ;.;)
Solar had asked himself many times about his life choice, but he had never felt so stuck in a dilemma as now.
The flashy lights of Pizza Plaza flickered in the quiet, muddy cafe.
A bright yellow animatronic hummed as the daycare attendant carefully arranged each of Fazbear's trashy books into the drawers of the cabinet with affection and dignity.
This was not his Sun, or Sun of this dimension.
A Sun named Servant, that was what they wanted to be called and begged to be called.
Solar and Moon had picked them up… a few weeks ago in Lord Eclipse's dimension.
The outer plating had completely disappeared, revealing the endoskeletons inside, all the rays of them had been stripped clean. One of their eyes was broken and flickering in orange, the other was Sun's milky white.
It was a sickening sight to see the first thing they did after they woke up was to kneel down, begging for forgiveness from Moon and Solar.
Solar could never forget the way they kissed the ground beneath him, their eyes radiating reverence despite their trembling fear, a submission that could only belong to a sick dog begging for death, raising its neck for its master.
Solar wondered if he had ever been so submissive to his Moon?
***
The animatronic two-colored eyes caught his gaze, and smiled so brightly that Solar could see flowers blooming and silver bells ringing behind them.
“Oh hello Solar!! Didn’t see you there!!!” They lie, as if they don’t wait for him for hours outside.
Servant was better, for a few weeks lately. Sure, they were still restless, and their paranoia was worse than Sun’s. But at least Servant has no longer begged for mercy upon seeing Moon or broke into a wild howl upon making eye contact with Sun anymore.
Ironically, Solar was the only one that Servant seemed to cling to.
The repaired light golden animatronic followed him around like a lost duckling. It was cute at first but became quite a nuisance later on.
Solar didn't mind being his Servant's confidant, it was no different than when Lunar came to him, but in reality he had too much works to do, and Servant kept blinking his big, round, timid eyes at him all the time like they like him so much, making it impossible for Solar to concentrate.
He wasn't a babysitter, damn it!
***
“But aren’t you good at it, Eclipse? You’ve always had more patience with children than Moon and I.” The mischievous voice of the person with whom he shares the same body, as they cradled little Thomas on the bed.
“Don’t be an idiot, Sunny. Anyone can soothe this child.” Eclipse grumbled, but he still carefully adjusted the blanket over the child’s chest.
“You’re such a tsundere, brother.”
Solar doesn’t remember what his Sunny's laugh sounds like anymore.
***
“Do you have anything you want to say, Servant?”
Solar sighed. He gave up on working on his computer. Finding the whereabouts of Dark Sun and… Nexus wasn’t looking good, and Solar was too exhausted to sort through Fazbear’s paperwork and work at the cinema.
Why this work was even left to the animatronics, could only be blamed on the incompetence of this capitalist corporation.
“Oh… I was just asking after this is done, do you want to go somewhere?” Servant was stuttering, their entire bodies stiff even the rays of sunlight, they looked like glass statues that could shatter with just one word from him.
The longing gaze still lingered in the Servant’s eyes, brighter than any plasma heat source Solar had ever witnessed.
“Servant, you can do whatever you want, you don’t have to ask me. I’m not your Lord.”
Solar pressed his forehead, ignoring the guilt that wasn’t his. He knew the figure the Servant was looking at was Lord Eclipse, this poor thing was just trying to protect himself from getting hurt by ingratiating himself as if he had complete control over their lives. It was sickening, and left a bitter taste in Solar’s ​​throat, but he couldn’t blame them.
Not when his very existence was a curse.
Solar ignored the trembling in his hand as his sensor chip recalled the hot heat of the cannon in Solar's palm, when he had personally ended Moon's miserable life.
Black oil splashed onto his pants leg, a faint mechanical sigh before fading away. The red eyes were full of cracks, but the emoticons still revealed a look of hatred and disgust as they looked at the dirt beneath their feet before the screen shattered.
It was just dust, not a corpse, but the cold and nauseating feeling still swirled in his throat until the next day.
"But..." Servant stammered. Their eyes drooped. They looked as if Solar had kicked a dog, and that dog was them. "I really wanted to ask you out."
Their hands clenched into their elbows, so tight they were about to dent. He could see Servant's trembling posture, as they tried not to kneel instinctively when they realized they had done something wrong, something that made him sad.
***
“Hey Moon… Um… I know you’re busy… but working like this isn’t healthy… Maybe we can take a break and figure how to save Sun together—”
SNAP!!!
A young, timid Eclipse stepped into the living tomb, looking at a Moon still buried in their computer, desperately typing away at the codes that keep a corpse running. Their voices were cold and cruel, crushing any hope Eclipse had of repairing the shattered pieces of what had once been a family.
“Go away, waste of space. Before I scrap you.”
“You’ve done enough damage.”
***
“Alright,” Solar had given up on the battlefield that he couldn’t win. “Where do you want to go?”
And those orange-white eyes lit up again, as if Solar had saved the world or done something great. It almost hit Solar’s ​​pride, because Solar was Eclipse after all, and there was no way he could lie when he said he loved to be recognized and admired.
They bounced, their steps intertwined as if they were dancing, and they had smiles as beautiful as plum blossoms on a summer afternoon.
“Can we go stargazing?”
“Stargazing?” Solar frowned.
“Um… Because in the old world, the sky was always so bright. I forgot the color of the stars… And it’s scary to go alone… And you work so hard… to help me too…”
It’s both similar and different when comparing Servants to Sun. They are much more panicked than his Sunny, but also more meticulous and soft spoken than Sun.
They are loyal, but more easily scared than a rabbit.
There’s something about them that seems to have been patched together in a distorted way, like the broken pieces of a broken cup that have been re-plated too many times.
They are Sun, but they are not Sun.
An illusion, the time-worn memory of a tyrant who doesn’t clearly remember what it was like the so used brother that they possess…
A distortion born from a monster’s longing to never be alone, but still retaining the purity and subtle kindness that makes him heartbroken.
“Okay…” Solar said in a low voice. He remained silent, only activating the multi-dimensional portal for the two of them to jump into.
The brilliant colors of the stars gently kissed their bodies.
The silvery white broke out like stars and dust, circling like fireflies. The colorful halos fluttered and wriggled like eels, vaguely giving off the peaceful feeling of the deep universe.
This was a beautiful place.
Solar thought so, though he was a little worried for some reason, wondering if the Servant would like it or not.
“Wow… Where is this, Solar?” There was a soft gasp of surprise from Servant, both hands covering his mouth as if not wanting his voice to ruin this moment. 
Solar spoke evenly. They stood between everything and nothing, suspended in the void, yet steadfast to the very end.
“We are at the center of the universe. The moment when the universe contracts and expands.” 
This was also the secret place he occasionally visited, when he felt like everything was becoming too much even for him. Just lie down, be quiet, relax with everything moving peacefully.
Here he is nothing… Noone… Just a speck of dust lucky enough to witness the birth of the universe.
“It’s beautiful.” Servant was silent, their faces staring in fascination at the fiery light that blended together before separating into elegant bands of color like the green light of the South Pole. 
They looked gentle, Solar adjusted his glasses to see better, as the silver poured over the Servant’s body, turning the melted gold into a pale green like the foam of whipped egg whites.
It felt like Solar was intruding. It felt like this look on his Servant’s face was too priceless to dare to know.
And then, in a voice as meticulous, as gentle as a piano in D minor, as slow as if honey could be poured into Solar’s ​​ears.
“Thank you… I know it’s hard for people to be patient with me sometimes.”
Servant’s eyes were always orange, but now they completely reflected Solar’s ​​color.
“It’s fine.” Solar looked away, feeling a little hot in his chest as he acknowledged this gratitude.
It wasn’t wrong, just strange. 
Talking to them, sharing his secret hiding place with them.
It was comforting and relieving in a way...
To know that someone was broken enough to sit with him.
What a nauseous thought...
Maybe he should check his own system...
Later…
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