#why this strange...fascination with a character's “age”?

[fussystreetlight]

I think antis would have fun for once if they changed their way of thinking.

Instead of thinking:

"They're a child/minor/animal!"

"They're made of atoms!"

"They're made of flesh and blood!"

"This weirdo likes kids/animals!"

"[Character] is age!"

"People are only weird about them because they're drawn to THE NUMBER!"

Try thinking:

"It's an object".

"It's made of pixels".

"It's made of ones and zeros".

"This person likes this character. I don't know the reason but I'm glad they're enjoying themselves because the character they like doesn't reflect how they'll treat people".

"It's an arbitrary and unimportant number that can be whatever people want because characters don't feel time like people do. It's extra trivia about [character] like knowing their blood type. I can think it's weird that someone's attracted to their fridge but that doesn't harm anyone and it doesn't matter whether they've had that fridge for five years or 25 years".

"This person could like this character for any number of reasons; it's design, it's programmed personality, ect. but all I can tell from them liking a character is that they like that character".

[itspileofgoodthings]

Porfiry telling Raskolnikov that at least he was honest and in one bound took the furthest leap to put his theory to the test of actual action——

[pin-k-ink]

loving the unlovable // ryomen sukuna

tw ⇢ true form!sukuna, dub-con, huge age gap, sukuna being a tsundere, lots of fluff, violence and gore, descriptions of injuries, heavy angst, implied sexual content, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, character death, obsession/unhealthy relationship dynamic, voyeurism, power imbalance, verbal aggression, manhandling, heavy petting

wc ⇢ 14.6k

a/n: my favorite work yet. i will remember this one forever

The shadows of the ancient trees seemed to stretch endlessly as the pale moonlight filtered through the canopy. In the stillness of the forest, a presence stirred - a malevolent force that sent a chill through the very air. Sukuna emerged from the darkness, his footfalls silent yet carrying an unmistakable weight of dread.

As he prowled deeper into the woodland, something caught his attention - the faint sound of labored breathing. His sinister eyes narrowed, lips curling into a subtle sneer as he followed the sound to its source. There you lay, motionless among the fallen leaves, your small frame battered and wounded.

Sukuna regarded you with a dispassionate gaze, his head tilting slightly as he studied your fragile form. Without warning, one of his fearsome nails extended with a sickening screech of bone against bone, the razor-sharp point hovering over your exposed skin. A low rumble echoed from deep within his chest - not quite a laugh, but a sound that conveyed his dark amusement at finding such easy prey.

To his mild surprise, you stirred at the ominous sound, your eyes fluttering open to meet his piercing stare. There was no fear in your gaze, only a strange sense of calm as you regarded the monstrous figure towering over you.

"Not afraid to die, are you?" Sukuna's gravelly voice sliced through the silence, his words dripping with derision. The point of his nail traced along your arm with practiced precision, parting the skin just enough to draw a thin line of crimson.

Rather than recoiling, you watched with an eerie fascination, your small hand rising to grasp at the torn fabric of his cloak. There was no pleading in your voice, only a peculiar sense of certainty as you spoke. "You won't kill me...not yet."

An imperceptible flicker of intrigue danced across Sukuna's obsidian eyes at your peculiar confidence. His shoulders rose and fell with a low, rumbling chuckle that seemed to reverberate through the trees themselves. "Is that so? And what makes you so sure, little creature?"

Undeterred by his menacing presence, you met his gaze unflinchingly. "Because I intrigue you..."

Sukuna's lip curled in a disdainful sneer at your bold proclamation. With one fluid motion, he gripped your tiny frame, hoisting you into the air until your faces were mere inches apart. His fist easily encircled your midsection, your feet dangling helplessly above the forest floor.

"You dare presume to know my thoughts, insect?" he growled, his hot breath fanning across your face. "I could crush you without a second thought." To emphasize his point, his grasp tightened ever so slightly, the pressure becoming almost unbearable.

Yet, you did not flinch or cry out. You simply held his gaze, an enigmatic smile playing upon your lips. In that moment, Sukuna felt a flicker of something he could not place - a strange sense of being...challenged by this mere slip of a girl.

With a disdainful snort, he loosened his grip and turned, fully intending to leave you broken and forgotten on the forest floor. But as he took his first step away, tiny arms wrapped around his leg, your small body clinging to him with surprising tenacity.

"Wait!" Your voice rang out, thick with desperation. "Please...let me stay with you."

Sukuna paused, his towering form going rigid as he slowly turned his head to glare down at you with smoldering contempt. "And why..." he uttered in a dangerously low tone, "...would I indulge such an insolent request?"

Unbowed, you met his piercing stare, your fingers digging into the fabric of his tattered cloak. "Because I won't leave. I'll follow you...pester you...until you give in."

A tense silence stretched between you, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath. Then, Sukuna's shoulders began to shake with a low, rumbling chuckle that escalated into full-blown laughter - harsh and mocking, yet underpinned by a strange sort of dark amusement.

"You've got spirit, child...I'll give you that," he finally uttered, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he shrugged you off his leg, your small body tumbling unceremoniously to the ground.

As you looked up at him with a mixture of trepidation and hope, he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well...you may follow at my heels like the obedient little parasite you are. But make no mistake..." His obsidian eyes bored into you with an intensity that could pierce souls. "If you overstep your bounds even once...I'll make sure you beg for the mercy of death."

Sukuna's lair was a crumbling, ancient shrine hidden deep within the twisted roots of a towering mahogany tree. As he led you through the dimly lit corridors, the stale air carried the faint scent of decay that seemed to cling to every surface.

With a disdainful flick of his wrist, he motioned to a small alcove, little more than a glorified nook. "This will be your quarters for the night, leech. Try not to perish from discomfort," he sneered.

Too exhausted and overwhelmed to muster a retort, you simply nodded meekly and settled into the cramped space, curling up on the cold stone floor. Within moments, the weight of your ordeal took its toll, and you drifted into a fitful slumber.

When your eyes finally fluttered open hours later, Sukuna was seated cross-legged nearby, his penetrating gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that could have incinerated lesser beings where they lay.

"To sleep so soundly in the lair of a cursed spirit," he mused, his tone laced with mordant amusement. "Your manners are as lacking as your survival instincts, girl."

Groggily pushing yourself upright, you opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly raised a hand to silence you.

"Save your excuses. I've no interest in listening to the pathetic whimpering of mortals." With that, he rose to his feet and stalked away, disappearing down the shadowy corridor without a backwards glance.

The first pale rays of dawn were just peeking through the crevices when Sukuna's imposing form materialized once more at the entrance to your tiny alcove. His eyes narrowed as he regarded your sleeping form with thinly veiled disdain.

"Up, leech," he commanded gruffly. "Our bargain has ended. I grow weary of tolerating your pestilent presence."

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, bleary from a night of restless slumber. As the weight of his words sank in, a small furrow creased your brow in defiance.

"No..." The single syllable slipped from your lips barely above a whisper, but carried within it an unmistakable rebellion.

Sukuna's eyes flashed with a volatile blend of dark amusement and burgeoning ire. "I beg your pardon?" His voice adopted a tone of perilous calm, like the ocean's stillness before a raging tempest. "You dare defy me, insect?"

Pushing yourself upright, you met his piercing stare with surprising boldness. "I won't leave. We never specified one night only."

A taut silence stretched between you, the air itself seeming to thicken with Sukuna's wrath. Then, his lip curled in a vicious snarl, and he moved with blurring speed -- one moment towering over you, the next slamming you back against the unforgiving stone with a hand like iron around your throat.

"You try my patience, child," he hissed through clenched teeth, his face mere inches from yours. "I should slice you into pieces and feast upon your insolent tongue."

Even faced with such terrifying malice, you held his gaze with eerie composure. "But...you won't..." you wheezed, struggling against his grip. "Not...yet..."

Another beat of deafening silence followed, the coiled tension between you crackling like lightning about to strike. Then, almost too fast to register, Sukuna released you, stepping back with a contemptuous sneer.

"Clearly, I overestimated your faculty for self-preservation," he growled, dragging a hand down his face in exaggerated exasperation. "Very well, you may remain...for one more night. But heed my words carefully, girl..." His piercing glare bored into you like twin daggers. "Tread lightly, lest I reconsider granting you the mercy of a swift demise."

a few years later

The gentle burbling of the nearby river provided a soothing melody amid the stillness of the forest. From the shadows of his shrine, Sukuna's piercing gaze remained fixated on the riverbank, where you had settled to bathe.

It had been years since that fateful night when the obstinate girl-child had wheedled her way into his domain under the guise of a single night's stay. Yet here you remained, a persistent thorn in his side that had, against all reason, taken root and refused to be dislodged.

As the warm waters lapped at your lithe form, tendrils of steam dancing along the gentle curves that had blossomed over time, Sukuna found his obsidian eyes tracing the contours of your body with undisguised interest. A low rumble reverberated in his chest - not one of menace, but an unmistakable purr of dark appreciation.

"The leech has sprouted into something of a noxious bloom," he mused aloud, his deep timbre reverberating through the shadows. A cruel smirk played upon his lips as he drank in the sight before him, shameless in his voyeurism.

You remained blissfully unaware of your shadowed observer, carelessly exposing the full radiance of your budding feminine form to his hungered gaze. Wet hair cascaded over your shoulders, beads of water tracing tantalizing paths along the swell of your bosom before disappearing beneath the river's mirror-like surface.

An imperceptible shift in the air was the only warning before Sukuna materialized at the riverbank in a swirl of ethereal mist, his towering height casting an imposing shadow over you. "Enjoying yourself, leech?" His voice sliced through the stillness like a blade through silk.

You started violently at the sound, instinctively shying deeper into the water's embrance in a futile attempt at modesty. Yet even as a furious blush stained your cheeks, your eyes met his without faltering - the same strange mixture of defiance and fascination that had so captivated him all those years ago.

"S-Sukuna..." you stammered, your breath catching in your throat as he descended into a predatory crouch at the very edge of the riverbank. "I didn't realize you were watching."

"Evidently," he purred, his rumbling baritone caressing every syllable as he drank in every flustered reaction. Reaching out with one long, sinuous finger, he traced the outline of a droplet that trembled precariously on the hardened peak of your nipple. "Tell me, leech...do you still fear me?"

A tremor that had nothing to do with the water's chill racked your body at his touch. Yet you leaned ever so slightly into his touch, drawn like a moth to a flame. "No..." you breathed, holding his smoldering gaze. "I've never feared you, Sukuna."

The dark spirit's lips twisted into a cruel facsimile of a smile, one that sent thrills of equal parts dread and exhilaration down your spine. "Then you are a fool, dear girl." With that, he withdrew his hand, rising fluidly to his feet and turning away in one seamless movement.

"Return before nightfall," he tossed over his shoulder as he strode off, his imposing figure swallowed once more by the shadows. "Our...discussions...are in need of resumption."

As the sound of his footfalls faded away, you remained rooted in the shallows, heart pounding as a heady mix of trepidation and undeniable longing swirled within you.

As the shadows lengthened, you made your way back to Sukuna's lair, your stomach rumbling with hunger. You found the cursed spirit seated cross-legged in the central chamber, his piercing gaze fixed on some indiscernible point in the distance.

"You've returned," he stated flatly as you entered. "I trust you're prepared to satisfy my curiosity regarding the mundane human ritual of...dinner?" He uttered the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Stifling a sigh, you began gathering ingredients and utensils from the makeshift kitchen area Sukuna had grudgingly allowed you to establish years ago. As you cooked, you fielded Sukuna's barrage of disdainful questions about the peculiarities of mortal sustenance with a weary patience born of long practice.

Finally, you set a modest meal before him, watching in bemusement as he inspected it with a sneer of revulsion. "I will never understand why you subject yourself to such banalities, leech."

Rolling your eyes, you settled down to eat, politely ignoring his disparaging mutterings about the frailties of human existence. Same song and dance as every night.

Much later, you tiptoed down the corridor leading to Sukuna's private chambers, a mischievous grin playing across your lips. Spying the cursed spirit's recumbent form in the gloom, you stealthily slipped under the arm he had carelessly draped over the edge of his stone bed...

Only for said arm to clamp around you like a vise, hauling you up so abruptly that your feet cleared the ground entirely. You found yourself suspended face-to-face with Sukuna, his obsidian eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.

"You dare intrude upon my personal domain, worm?!" he bellowed, his free hand contorting into a series of wicked talons that hovered mere inches from your exposed throat.

Reflexively you threw up your hands in a placating gesture. "It's just me! It's just me!"

Sukuna's murderous expression flickered momentarily with recognition before resolving into one of contemptuous disgust. "Idiot girl," he growled, bodily hoisting you out of the chamber and depositing you in an unceremonious heap in the corridor. "How many times must I reiterate that my quarters are strictly forbidden?!"

As he slammed the door in your face, you couldn't quite stifle the giggle that bubbled up from your chest. "Same time tomorrow night?" you called out impishly, not bothering to pick yourself up from the floor.

The resounding bellow of outrage was enough to set your soul vibrating. Just another typical evening in the lair of Ryomen Sukuna.

The morning sun bathed the meadow in a warm golden glow, wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. You sat among them, idly weaving together a crown of daisies and baby's breath, a serene smile playing across your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna observed from the tree line, his penetrating gaze scrutinizing your every move. There was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest as he watched you laugh and dance amidst the blooms, so carefree and vibrant. An ache he couldn't identify.

He had seen countless mortals come and go over the eons - frail, fleeting creatures snuffed out like candle flames in the blink of an eye. Yet you persisted, your persistence grating on him at first until it gradually transitioned into...something else. Something he refused to name.

You were just bending down to pluck another blossom when Sukuna materialized at your side, his towering frame casting you in shadow. With a startled cry, you turned wide eyes up at him, the carefree smile slipping from your face.

But before you could react further, he reached down and scooped you up with ease, his massive hand encircling your slender waist. You automatically clutched at his arm for balance, lower lip jutting out in a tiny pout of protest.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you stammered, staring up at Sukuna with bewildered indignation. For once, he did not meet your questioning gaze, instead turning on his heel and striding back towards his lair without a word.

As the last rays of dusk faded, bathing the ancient shrine in deep shadows, Sukuna deposited you unceremoniously just inside the entrance. You gazed up at him with a petulant frown, momentarily frozen by the foreign gleam in his eyes - something wild and unrestrained flickering behind their obsidian depths.

Then, recovering some of your usual defiant spirit, you straightened and fixed him with a pointed look. "Since you're being so hospitable tonight, I don't suppose you'd allow me to bunk with you in your quarters?"

The request seemed to break whatever spell had momentarily fallen over the cursed spirit. He blinked, then his face contorted in a sneer of disdain as he reached out and shoved you back, not gently.

"Don't be foolish, girl," he growled, his voice laced with gravel. "You know my rules well. Now remove yourself from my presence before I remove you more...permanently."

Shooting him one last mulish glare, you turned and flounced off down the corridor, grumbling under your breath. Yet Sukuna remained rooted in place long after you departed, an inexplicable ache blossoming in his cursed chest.

The routine persisted for days and nights on end - you would saunter up to Sukuna's quarters once darkness fell, bat your eyelashes innocently, and inquire if perhaps this could be the blessed evening when he'd grant you permission to sleep beside him.

His response never wavered. A withering glare, a derisive snort, and then his large hand would clamp around your arm, yanking you off-balance before bodily depositing you outside his chamber door with an unceremonious shove.

"You're an insufferable pest," he'd growl, lips curled in contempt. "Quit deluding yourself into thinking I'll ever indulge such impertinence."

On one such night, you trudged away grumbling rebellious obscenities under your breath, lower lip jutting out in a full-on pout. Sukuna had been particularly rough, nearly sweeping your feet out from under you with the force of his push.

Fuming, you stalked outside into the night air, hoping the cool caress of the forest breeze would soothe your ruffled feathers. But you'd barely made it past the tree line when a sinister presence caused the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle.

A malevolent curse spirit oozed from the shadows, its grotesque form an amalgamation of oozing sludge and razor-sharp appendages. You froze, breath catching in your throat as its voracious eyes fixed on you, dark ichor dripping from its gaping maw.

Just as it reared back, prepared to strike, a thunderous bellow reverberated through the trees. "GIRL!"

Sukuna materialized between you and the curse like an avenging wraith, one clawed hand batting the foul creature aside with contemptuous ease. It hit a nearby tree trunk with bone-crunching force before dissolving into noxious sludge.

You stared up at Sukuna with wide, stunned eyes, his heaving shoulders the only indication of any exertion. Slowly, he turned to face you, mouth contorting into a vicious snarl.

"You foolish, foolish girl!" he raged, grabbing your shoulders and giving you a bruising shake. "Have I not warned you time and again about wandering from my domain unattended?! Do you have a death wish?!"

Trembling, you could only shake your head mutely, cowed by the sheer fury blazing in his eyes. With a disgusted growl, Sukuna released you, though his grip on your arm remained bruisingly tight as he hauled you back towards the shrine.

To your surprise, rather than depositing you at the entrance as usual, he dragged you straight to his private quarters and shoved you inside before him, slamming the door with a decisive thud.

"Sukuna, what-?" You turned to face him, brows knit in bewilderment, only to be silenced by the sheer intensity of his scathing look.

"Silence, idiot," he spat, raking you with his piercing glare. "For once, I'll indulge your persistent wheedling...if only to ensure you don't stumble into anymore folly this night."

He snorted derisively as realization bloomed across your face, lips curving into a delighted smile. Shaking his head, he jerked his thumb towards the pallet against the far wall. "Well? You have what you wanted. Now cease your incessant nattering and let me have some blessed quiet."

Biting your lip in a futile effort to contain your grin, you scurried over to the bedroll, trying and failing to ignore the thunderous pounding of your heart. As you settled in, Sukuna's rumbling bass filled the chamber once more.

"Just for tonight, leech. Don't delude yourself into thinking this..." He waved a dismissive hand, "...situation will become permanent."

Even as you nodded, the secret smile tugging at your lips suggested you had absolutely no intention of dropping your persistent campaign. As the night deepened, the sound of Sukuna's steady breathing rose and fell in a reassuring cadence - the soothing rhythm of the most terrifying lullaby to which you'd ever drifted off.

The following morning, you emerged from Sukuna's chamber squinting against the brilliant rays of dawn filtering through the trees. Stifling a yawn, you wandered towards the small spring that provided the lair's water source, blissfully unaware of the dark eyes watching your every move.

Sukuna observed in tense silence from the shadows as you knelt beside the glittering pool, idly trailing your fingers through the cool waters. That strange ache blossomed in his chest once more - a longing he could neither name nor comprehend.

With a irritable huff, he pivoted and stalked deeper into the gloom of the forest, forcing your bemusing form from his mind's eye. Yet the phantom sensation persisted, an ember of something warm and unfamiliar smoldering in his cursed soul.

Night had long since fallen by the time Sukuna re-entered his lair, shadows clinging to him like a shroud. He paused at the entrance to his private chambers, piercing gaze sweeping the dimly lit space with scrutinizing intensity.

"Tolerable for one night," he grumbled to himself, fingers tightening briefly on the doorframe. "But no more. That wretched girl has overstepped enough boundaries to last an eternity."

Before the words had fully left his lips, a slight shift of movement in his peripheral vision caused his entire body to go rigid, cursed power rippling through him like a shockwave. Whirling with blinding speed, he contorted one hand into a wicked scythe of talons, dark energy gathering in a volatile maelstrom.

"You dare--?!" The words morphed into a guttural snarl as his gaze landed on the slight figure now perched impudently on the very edge of his bed. "Leech!"

You grinned back at him, infuriatingly unperturbed by the malevolent force roiling off him in waves. "Well hello there, cranky pants. Sleep well?"

"I warned you about encroaching upon my personal domain," Sukuna raged, his free hand whipping out to seize you by the waist and bodily hoist you into the air. "Do you never learn?!"

Rather than cower, you merely gazed back at him with guileless defiance, small hands clutching at the iron bands of his fingers. "Don't be like that, Sukuna. We both know you won't hurt me."

The cursed spirit's towering frame seemed to swell with unholy wrath, muscles rippling beneath his ashen skin. Yet as his obsidian gaze bored into yours, that damnable heat flickered in his chest once more - an unwelcome tendril of yearning that slithered through the cracks in his cursed, callous shell.

With a noise of disgust, he released his grip, allowing you to tumble gracelessly back onto the pallet. Yet before you could so much as stir, he whirled and made for the door, fully intent on ejecting you from his quarters with extreme prejudice.

Only to find himself arrested by your slight form clinging tenaciously to his leg, arms and legs wrapped around the limb like a limpet. "No wait, Sukuna please! I'll be good, I swear!"

The cursed spirit stilled, piercing eyes slitting dangerously as he glared down at your pleading face. For a long, tense moment, the air itself seemed to thicken with the weight of his inhuman ire.

Then, it dissipated in a rush, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as a weary exhale gusted past his lips. Wordlessly, he reached down and detached your grip with ease, ignoring your mewl of dismay. Instead of throwing you out, however, he simply turned and resumed his seat on the edge of the pallet, pinning you with a glower of stern resignation.

"One more night, leech," he growled, the capitulation sounding physically pained. "But no more of these insipid antics. Am I making myself absolutely clear?"

Your face split in a beaming grin that caused that damnable warmth to bloom in Sukuna's chest anew. Nodding fervently, you scooted up to join him on the narrow bed roll, relishing the simple intimacy of your shoulders brushing against his granite frame.

As the night wore on, and your breathing evened out in slumber, the cursed spirit remained awake and pensive, his piercing gaze roving repeatedly to the slender form curled up beside him. Something was shifting deep within him, an inexorable drift that filled him with equal parts longing and foreboding.

He could sense the tenuous grasp on his power beginning to waver - a dangerous riptide of emotion churning beneath the hardened surface of his being. And at its dark, irresistible center...that wretched girl remained, an infuriating yet inextricable piece of his cursed existence.

The first pale rays of dawn filtered through the crevices, bathing Sukuna's chamber in a soft, dusty glow. The cursed spirit's eyes drifted open slowly, his penetrating gaze instantly falling upon the slight form curled up beside him.

Your chest rose and fell with the deep, even breaths of untroubled slumber, a thin trail of drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. Hair mussed and splayed across the pallet in a bird's nest of tangles, you looked every bit the image of innocence lost to dreams.

Yet Sukuna found his obsidian eyes tracing the delicate contours of your face with undisguised fascination, drinking in each and every detail as if truly seeing you for the first time. From the dusting of freckles across your upturned nose to the flutter of your lashes against flushed cheeks, he catalogued it all with rapt attentiveness.

Without realizing what he was doing, one long-fingered hand drifted up to gently brush an errant lock of hair from your forehead, his rough calloused fingertips a harsh juxtaposition against your petal-soft skin. You didn't so much as stir, too deeply ensconced in slumber to register his uncharacteristically tender ministrations.

Sukuna felt himself leaning in closer, an unfamiliar pull tugging at the very fabric of his being. Your warm, honeysuckle breath fanned across his face as his own drifted nearer and nearer still, until the delicate curve of your cupid's bow brushed whisper-light against the austere line of his lips.

In that crystalline moment, something seemed to shatter within the cursed spirit. His entire frame went rigid, the muscles coiled taut as an over-plucked bowstring beneath his ashen skin. Just as swiftly as the hypnotic compulsion had fallen over him, it dissipated in an icy rush of clarity.

With a strangled snarl of disgust, Sukuna violently recoiled, his sudden movement jostling the pallet hard enough to rouse you from slumber. Bleary eyes blinked up at him in groggy confusion as he loomed over you, his expression contorted into one of blatant abhorrence.

"Out," he ground out through gritted teeth, visibly struggling to regain control over the tempestuous storm of emotion roiling through him. "Get out, leech!"

Your brow furrowed in hurt bewilderment, mouth opening to protest or question his irate outburst. But Sukuna was having none of it. Reaching down, he seized you by the arm and bodily hauled you upright, marching you towards the door with such force that your feet barely skimmed the ground.

With one final shove, he deposited you in an unceremonious heap in the corridor, slamming the chamber door behind you with a thunderous bang. Left alone in the dim passageway, you could only stare at the unyielding slab of wood with a forlorn mixture of confusion and heartache welling in your eyes.

Inside his sanctum, Sukuna paced like a caged predator, every muscle taut and thrumming with pent up violence. His clawed hands alternately clenched and flexed, dark energy crackling through him in volatile surges.

"Damnable, pestilent girl!" He punctuated the snarled words with a strike that reduced a nearby pillar to rubble. "What depraved curse has she inflicted upon me?!"

Yet even as he raged and seethed against the irresistible tide of unfamiliar emotion, a small, insidious ember smoldered in the inky depths of his cursed heart. An ember that, unbeknownst to him, had been steadily burning brighter and hotter with each passing night...fanned into radiant existence by your infuriatingly persistent presence at his side.

You knelt in the small vegetable patch you had painstakingly cultivated, idly plucking weeds and tossing them aside with more force than strictly necessary. A sullen pout tugged at your lips as you mentally replayed the events of that morning on an endless, mortified loop.

The feeling of Sukuna violently recoiling from you, the look of unadulterated disgust contorting his features - it was all seared into your mind's eye with agonizing clarity. You hadn't even done anything, just woken up as per usual! Yet he'd practically torn you from his quarters, flinging you out like some repulsive insect he couldn't be rid of fast enough.

You were so absorbed in your simmering indignation that you failed to notice the imposing figure materializing at the edge of the garden until his rumbling baritone sliced through the weighted silence.

"Stop wallowing in the dirt like a pathetic grub, leech. It's unbecoming."

Stiffening, you steadfastly avoided meeting Sukuna's piercing gaze, mouth pressed into a mulish line. The cursed spirit regarded you with obvious disdain for a beat before snorting derisively.

"What, no clever rejoinder? No insolent prattle to assault my ears with?" His tone dripped with disdainful sarcasm. "How unlike you."

You remained stubbornly mute, turning your body slightly so your back was angled towards him in a blatant gesture of defiance. An imperceptible muscle ticked in Sukuna's taut jaw, his obsidian eyes glinting with fleeting irritation before smoothing out into cool disinterest.

"I see. The child chooses to have a tantrum then," he drawled, folding his arms across his massively muscled chest. "How terribly vexing for me."

Despite your best efforts to tune him out, his rich, resonant timbre seemed to effortlessly penetrate the walls you tried to erect. You couldn't quite stifle the small pout that crept across your lips, shoulders hunched defensively.

A humorless chuckle gusted from Sukuna at your petulant display. Then, his voice dropped a shade lower, taking on the ominous timber of flint striking steel.

"Perhaps a compromise is in order..." You froze, ears straining in spite of your resolve to ignore him. "...so that you might cease this insufferable tantrum."

Unable to resist, you turned your head slightly, peeking up at him through your lashes with naked trepidation. Sukuna held your gaze for a beat, then seemed to reach some internal resolution. When he spoke again, his tone was laced with the sort of weary resignation one might reserve for a rabid dog they've decided to humor rather than put down.

"You may..." He audibly ground out the words through gritted teeth, as if they physically pained him. "...take up residence in my quarters on a more...permanent basis. If that will satisfy your obstinate need to perpetually vex me."

The effect was instantaneous and profound. Your sullen pout blossomed into a radiant smile that bathed your entire being in a sort of incandescent light. Before Sukuna could so much as blink, you had launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his granite-hewn waist and hugging him with every ounce of jubilant force in your slight frame.

The cursed spirit went rigid as a statue, his towering figure locking up in abject bewilderment at the unanticipated onslaught of unchecked affection. For several agonizing beats, he seemed torn between violence and simply phasing through the earth to escape the uncomfortable intimacy.

Then, as quickly as you had barreled into him, he pried you off with deliberate force, holding you at arm's length with a look of profound consternation. Clearing his throat gruffly, he averted those piercing obsidian depths, struggling to regain his customary icy aloofness.

"Yes, well..." He cleared his throat again redundantly. "Don't make me regret this indulgence, girl. Now release me and tend to whatever menial chores suit your industrious nature. I've had quite enough emotional upheaval for one morning."

Giggling at his obvious discomfort, you nodded enthusiastically and scampered off, every line of your body seeming to fairly sing with unrestrained jubilance. Sukuna watched you depart with a mixture of stark confusion and something frighteningly akin to fondness flickering behind his stony facade, the beginning embers of a connection that would irrevocably alter both your fates.

The shadows had long since descended over Sukuna's lair by the time you made your way to his private chambers that night, a contented smile playing across your lips. You found the cursed spirit seated on the edge of the modest pallet, his piercing gaze fixed on some indiscernible point in the distance.

Wasting no time on propriety, you bounded over and flopped onto the bed with unrestrained glee, reveling in the simple luxury of the soft furs and downy fabrics. Sukuna's obsidian eyes slid towards you, one pointed brow arching ever so slightly in a look of profound disbelief.

"Must you behave like an overexcited pup, leech?" he rumbled, mouth curved in a moue of distaste even as his gaze danced with fleeting amusement. "One would think you've never experienced the comforts of a proper resting place."

Rolling onto your back, you grinned up at him impishly, hair splaying across the pelts in a makeshift halo. "Maybe I'm just savoring the novel experience of sharing a bed with a ruggedly handsome cursed spirit."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed to slits of warning at your brazen flirtation, lips pulling back to expose a hint of fang. "Don't get ahead of yourself, girl. I allowed this arrangement to cease your childish carrying on...not to indulge any misguided fancies you might be entertaining."

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you fixed him with an appraising look through your lashes, openly drinking in the sharp lines of his chiseled features and muscular frame.

"Is that so?" you murmured, tone taking on a lilt of exaggerated innocence. "So you're saying there's no chance whatsoever of...extracurricular activities?"

The cursed spirit visibly bristled at your suggestive implication, fingers flexing as his obsidian gaze bored into you with smoldering intensity. Just as his lips parted to deliver what was sure to be a scathing rejoinder, the impish glint in your eyes seemed to catch him off guard.

Instead, you flashed him a brilliant smile, one that held no guile or insinuation - only a pure, radiant warmth that temporarily stole the breath from Sukuna's lungs. "I'm only teasing. Just being near you like this...it's enough for me."

Those simple words appeared to utterly disarm the formidable spirit. His mouth worked soundlessly as his angular features slackened slightly, temporarily unguarded and almost...vulnerable. An unfamiliar heat bloomed in his crimson gaze, softening it in a way you had never witnessed before.

Without consciously realizing what you were doing, you pushed up from the bed and scooted around behind Sukuna's seated form. He tensed fractionally as you molded yourself against the unyielding plane of his back, arms winding around the solid column of his neck in a tender embrace.

Yet unlike all the times before when he would have recoiled or shoved you away, the cursed spirit remained utterly motionless. His head bowed fractionally, harsh lines of his profile inscrutable in the dimness as he permitted your affectionate display to linger unchallenged.

In that weighted moment, it was almost as if some imperceptible barrier between you had begun to crumble - allowing a tiny flicker of connection to take root and smolder. Sukuna's next indrawn breath seemed to carry the weight of eons.

As the night stretched on in pensive quiet, your eyelids grew gradually heavier, lulled into a sense of peace and security by the steady cadence of Sukuna's breathing and the solidity of his form against yours. Safe in the knowledge that for now, in this stillness...he wouldn't push you away.

The balmy summer night was alive with the chirruping songs of crickets and the gentle whisper of the breeze. You knelt among the lush vegetation of your beloved garden, hands buried in the loamy soil as you carefully tended to the vibrant array of herbs and vegetables flourishing under your care.

So absorbed were you in your peaceful labors that you failed to register the first ominous shadows flitting through the tree line -- dark, malevolent presences that slithered forth with ill intent sparking in their depthless eyes.

It wasn't until a strangled cry rent the air that your head whipped up, eyes widening in stunned trepidation as grotesque, humanoid figures emerged from the gloom in a loose semi-circle around the garden's perimeter. Their twisted forms seemed an affront to nature itself, corrupt energies roiling just beneath the surface in profane defiance of the sanctity surrounding them.

"Sorcerers..." you breathed, instinctively shrinking back as your heart thundered in your chest. "But...how...?"

"The girl that soils Sukuna's domain," one of the gaunt figures rasped, its sibilant voice grating like rusted metal. "She will lure him out."

Another of the wicked men threw back its head in a horrifying parody of laughter. "Then we shall extinguish both blights upon this world in one fateful stroke!"

Before you could so much as blink, a crackling vortex of malign power burst forth, searing towards you in a blinding eruption of crimson light. You managed a single terrified scream before the onslaught slammed into you, sending shockwaves of unimaginable agony ricocheting through every fiber of your being.

The world tilted violently, the idyllic garden backdrop washing in and out of focus as you scrambled feebly against the onslaught. But the dark sorcerers were utterly relentless, pressing their brutal assault until your struggles grew feeble, your piercing cries reduced to gurgling whimpers of anguish.

Just as the encroaching blackness threatened to swallow you whole, a deafening roar of purest wrath split the night -- a vengeful bellow so seismic that it caused the very trees to shake in its wake. Through a rapidly dimming haze, you glimpsed the ashen silhouette of Sukuna materializing amidst the fray, his eyes blazing like twin supernovas.

The ensuing onslaught was apocalyptic. With an earthshaking crash, the cursed spirit unleashed the full brunt of his unholy capabilities in an explosive torrent of unearthly energies. The ground itself seemed to fracture and buckle under the sheer concussive force, whipping up a maelstrom of debris that swallowed the shrieking sorcerers whole.

In the span of mere heartbeats, the fiendish entities had been utterly decimated -- rent asunder by the full fury of Sukuna's unrestrained might. As the maelstrom receded, an unnatural silence fell, shattered only by the cursed spirit's harsh, heaving breaths.

Then, his piercing gaze fell upon your fragile form, crumpled and broken amidst the ravaged remains of your once-vibrant garden. Sukuna seemed to freeze for the span of an eternal second, features slackening incrementally as utter stillness cloaked his towering silhouette.

The next instant, he was at your side, sinking to one knee and gathering your battered body into the protective cradle of his arms with a tenderness that belied the violence still thrumming through him like livewire.

"Leech..." The nickname slipped raggedly past his lips, stripped of its customary inflection of derision or disdain. "Girl..."

Your eyelashes fluttered feebly as his gruff rumble penetrated the fog of anguish shrouding you. Somehow, you managed to croak a feeble murmur, the words scarcely more than a piteous whisper despite the gravity with which you uttered them.

"They...destroyed my garden..."

A tremor seemed to race through Sukuna's towering frame at the simple lament, his hold instinctively tightening as if to shield you not only from further harm, but the very notion of such trivial worries. When he spoke again, his voice carried a brusque gentleness that resonated through your very bones.

"Stubborn girl...there will be time to restore your foolish plants once you've recovered." His massive palm cradled the back of your head, fingers lightly sifting through the tangled tresses. "Rest now. I shall rebuild it all...with my own hands if need be."

As the realm of consciousness began to slip away from you once more, you managed the faintest murmur in acknowledgment before allowing yourself to drift into oblivion's soothing embrace. Your final cognizant thought was one of wonder...at how, even on the precipice of certain demise, Sukuna's mere presence remained an inextricable tether to hope and safekeeping.

The first tendrils of awareness seeped in gradually, a soft cocoon of warmth and security enveloping your battered form. You stirred with the barest of movements, eyelids fluttering open to find yourself swaddled in the plush furs of Sukuna's sleeping pallet.

A low rumble instantly drew your bleary gaze, finding the cursed spirit himself seated cross-legged at your side, his penetrating obsidian stare fixed unwaveringly on your face. There was an uncharacteristic intensity burning in those fathomless depths, something wild and unrestrained simmering just beneath the surface.

"You're awake," he stated simply, making no move to disguise the open appraisal raking over your form as if reassuring himself of your continued corporeal existence. "How do you feel, girl?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly raised one clawed hand in a hushing gesture, silencing you before the words could form.

"No matter," he rumbled, raking his other hand through his disheveled mane in an uncharacteristically agitated gesture. "Clearly you require more rest to regain your strength after that debacle."

Confusion furrowed your brow as flashes of the dark sorcerers' ambush began to trickle back into your consciousness. But before you could so much as part your lips again, Sukuna leaned forward, the intensity in his eyes nearly scorching you with its heated focus.

"Attempt to rise or exert yourself in any fashion, and I will not be responsible for my actions," he growled, brooking no argument. "You will remain in bed and allow yourself to recuperate fully. Is that clear enough for your stubborn mind to comprehend?"

You could only nod mutely, instinctively sinking back into the sumptuous bedding as the weight of his stern edict settled over you. Sukuna held your gaze for a beat longer, then snorted and shifted his hulking frame, never fully removing himself from your bedside as if standing sentry.

Over the next few days, you quickly learned that the cursed spirit was fiercely serious regarding his mandate for your recovery. He scarcely left your side for more than a few minutes at a time, his formidable presence both reassuring and faintly discomfiting as you steadily regained your strength.

What's more, on the rare occasions you did rouse to find him absent, a brief glance out the chamber's lone window revealed he had already seen to restoring your beloved garden to its former verdant glory. Somehow, through some arcane effort, he had coaxed forth a miniature oasis from the ravaged soil and ash - a riot of fresh blooms and burgeoning greenery that made your heart swell with profound reverence.

Yet for all his apparent efforts to put you at ease and provide comfort, Sukuna adamantly avoided any heart-to-heart discussions or sentimental heart-renderings about the motivation behind his doting behavior. His demeanor was brusque as ever, a perpetual furrow pinching his brow whenever he happened to catch you studying him with wondering eyes.

"Cease gawking at me like a bedridden simpleton, girl," he'd grouse, deliberately turning his striking visage away to discourage further scrutiny. "If you insist on testing my patience, I'll keep you bedbound for another fortnight."

But his bluster and growling threats were belied by his actions come nightfall, when he would slide beneath the downy layers beside you with deliberate care. Unlike the prior fleeting times you'd been granted the intimate privilege of sharing his sleeping space, he no longer exerted any effort to maintain a respectful distance between your forms.

You would awake in those twilight hours to find his hulking frame spooning yours with almost protective insistence, one corded arm slung possessively over your waist while his pointed features remained a tense, watchful mask. Any attempts to disengage and afford him space were met with a low, rumbling murmur of displeasure and a reflexive tightening of his restraining hold, as if he feared your withdrawal on some subconscious level.

So you simply allowed yourself to sink back against his solid warmth with a resigned sigh, letting the sound of his even breathing lull you into a sense of strange security. Whatever internal warlord was raging inside the cursed spirit was not your battle to fight...at least not yet. For tonight, you would permit yourself to shelter inside the uncharacteristic tenderness he seemed determined to blanket you in, however briefly.

For deep within his volcanic stare, you could discern the telltale flickers of an emotion he refused to name - burning embers that glowed more fervently with each passing night spent entwined in silent communion.

Two sunsets had come and gone without any trace of Sukuna's imposing presence darkening the entrance to his lair. An uneasy sense of trepidation had settled over you like a shroud, each passing hour compounding the knot of dread coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

Where was he? The cursed spirit was no stranger to extended disappearances on his own inscrutable whims. But never before had he ventured off without so much as a gruff word of departure, leaving you to fret and wonder in his consuming absence.

You paced the confines of his inner sanctum in restless arcs, shooting furtive glances towards the unmoving slab of wood that served as the entrance. Surely if he intended his leave to be permanent, he would have...what? Sneered some parting barb about ridding himself of your pestilent presence?

No, the utter silence - the yawning void of his absence - chilled you more deeply than any of his harshest rebukes ever could. It simply wasn't like him.

You had just completed another fruitless circuit around the cramped chamber when a resounding boom shook the very foundations, instinctively dropping you into a defensive crouch. Heavy, thunderous footfalls reverberated through the passages beyond as something - no, someone- barreled towards the inner sanctum with reckless momentum.

The entrance burst open with a splintering crash, and there he was - Sukuna's towering, unmistakable silhouette haloed in the flickering torchlight beyond. Yet as the dust settled and your incredulous gaze drank in his form, utter dismay clenched like a vice around your heart.

The cursed spirit appeared utterly savaged, his ashen skin hanging in ribbons from countless deep lacerations that wept a steady stream of ebon ichor. One arm hung in an unnatural angle, the other clutching a gaping wound just below his ribcage as if trying to keep his very entrails from spilling forth. Dark power seethed and crackled around him in a volatile miasma, casting his features in a perpetual state of wrath-contorted ferocity.

An unintelligible bellow ripped from Sukuna's bloodied lips, causing you to flinch instinctively. Then another form materialized beside him, resolving into the lithe frame of Uraume - one of the only entities who could be considered an ally to the volatile curse.

"Listen close, girl!" he barked in his customary sandpaper growl. "You must approach Sukuna. He's been driven to the very brink, and right now you're the only one he might-"

"SILENCE!" The roar that erupted from Sukuna's chest could have parted oceans. "Don't presume to make decisions for me, dog!"

In the blink of an eye, his remaining hand had snapped up in a vicious swipe that sent Uraume hurtling back down the passage in an explosion of masonry and dirt. Turning that blazing stare on you, the cursed spirit's teeth gnashed in a bestial snarl.

"Well, leech?" he growled, a spatter of ebon blood splattering across his chin. "Coming to bask in the sight of your precious Sukuna laid low, are you? Have you a taste for more violence?!"

He took a menacing step forward, every motion broadcasting his intent to rend and subjugate to the most primal part of your hindbrain. Yet you held your ground, swallowing hard but refusing to be cowed by the maelstrom of dark malice radiating off him in waves.

"Just...let me help you," you managed, struggling to keep your voice steady and implacable. "You're in no condition to-"

"YOUR HELP?!" he thundered, unleashing a torrent of power that slammed into you with bruising force, driving you back several paces. "I don't require a weakling mortal's pathetic overtures!"

A massive clawed hand whipped out, gnarled fingers encircling your slender neck with crushing intensity that immediately stole your breath. Eyes bulging, you scrabbled helplessly at the iron vise of his grip, succeeding only in drawing parallel lines across his sweat-slicked flesh from the ragged ends of your nails.

His mouth twisted into a vicious sneer, eyes glittering with soulless, obsidian fathoms that intimated he would crush the spark of life from your fragile husk without hesitation. "You dare come before me in my domain and lecture me about conditions, girl?"

But you refused to relent, spearing him with a defiant glower even as black spots began dancing across your vision.

"S-Sukuna..." His name emerged as little more than a strained rasp. "I...won't leave...you."

Something indiscernible flickered behind his raging ferocity in that endless moment of stillness. His grip slackened a bare fraction, just enough for you to suck in a ragged gasp of air that seared like fire down your abused windpipe.

Before he could summon the will to renew his merciless onslaught, you pressed forward with quivering hands outstretched, placing them against his heaving chest. He stiffened at the contact, but did not retreat or rebuff your trembling advance.

"Please, Sukuna..." you rasped, meeting his tortured glare with steady imploration. "Let me in...just this once."

His lips peeled back to expose a rictus of fangs in a final, thunderous snarl of primal resistance. But as the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, the tension seemed to incrementally drain away, until only a bone-deep weariness remained etched in the harsh planes of his striking features.

With a low, subterranean rumble, the cursed spirit dropped into an ungainly crouch, until at last his proud, indomitable head lay cradled in your waiting palms. His eyelids slitted to mere crescents of lambent crimson as you sank shakily to your knees before him, every remaining shred of resistance crumbling into ash.

"Do as you will, foolish girl," he breathed, his voice little more than a ghostly rasp. "But make it count...for you may not get another chance."

He allowed his eyes to close fully then, the final rampart between his furious cursed pride and the infinitesimal seed of human vulnerability blossoming between you giving way at last. Hands trembling with a thousand warring emotions, you reached out and began tenderly clearing away the cloying streaks of gore and viscera that marred his statuesque features - a silent vigil that would mark the first flickers of a connection both of you had fought so viciously to deny.

The ensuing days after Sukuna's grievous injuries had been tended stretched into an interminable silence so deafening, you could practically feel it weighing upon your very bones. The cursed spirit had retreated into himself like a wounded animal, avoiding your questioning gaze and concerned overtures with an almost frantic single-mindedness.

Where once his imposing presence had been an inescapable constant at your side, now he was utterly absent - a specter that haunted the shadowed fringes of the lair, retreating deeper into the gloom whenever you dared approach. Even the sanctuary of his private chambers had become off-limits, the air around it saturated with a tense, forbidding aura that screamed stay away.

At first, you tried to chalk up his mercurial behavior to simply needing space to recuperate and process the harrowing ordeal he had endured. But as the days bled into weeks without a single word or sidelong glance from your self-appointed jailer, a simmering frustration began corroding the anxious concern you harbored.

This recent stint of avoidance was entirely unprecedented, even for Sukuna's infamously fickle temperament. You found yourself lying awake at night, tossing restlessly as a litany of increasingly agitated thoughts swirled through your mind.

Was he truly so disgusted by whatever vestiges of vulnerability you had glimpsed that day? Had you finally overstepped some unspoken boundary that severed the tenuous connection you had so painstakingly forged?

The flicker of panic that possibility sparked within your chest ultimately propelled you into motion one evening, as the inky shadows began their nightly unfurling across the ancient shrine grounds. Slipping from your modest sleeping quarters, you stalked the familiar warren of tunnels and crumbling chambers with renewed determination blazing in your eyes.

You reached Sukuna's sanctum just as the cursed spirit himself materialized at the entrance, clearly intent on disappearing elsewhere once more before you could catch him. His steps slowed fractionally as his piercing gaze registered your presence, lips immediately peeling back in a menacing snarl of displeasure.

Yet you stood your ground, arms crossed stubbornly over your chest as you leveled him with an unwavering stare. "Not this time."

Sukuna seemed to swell with wrath at your brazen rebuttal, the very air around him growing thick and suffocating with his barely-restrained power. "You dare seek to bar my way, insolent girl?"

Despite the deadly undercurrent to his words, you did not so much as flinch. "I dare demand answers," you shot back, amazed by the sheer bravery - or perhaps foolishness - fueling your own voice. "You can't keep avoiding me forever, Sukuna. And you sure as hell can't abandon this place and leave me wondering."

A dangerous crimson glimmer flickered behind his obsidian eyes at your impertinent challenge. With a speed that caused the air to whip your hair, he closed the distance between you in two ground-devouring strides, his looming silhouette casting you in shadow.

"You presume much, leech," he spat, the old epithet dripping with as much venom as a serpent's fangs. "Were it any other who showed such disrespect, I would tear them asunder without a moment's hesitation." One thick-nailed finger trailed along your jawline, the caress carrying a blatantly threatening weight. "Do you truly wish to test the limits of my dwindling patience?"

But you obstinately refused to be cowed, tilting your chin up in defiant challenge. "Then do it. Tear me apart, if that's what you want." Your voice was soft but unwavering, the naked conviction behind it seeming to momentarily undercut Sukuna's towering menace. "We both know you won't follow through on that threat...I just can't fathom why."

The cursed spirit recoiled almost imperceptibly at that, a muscle twitching in his clenched jaw. For a span of heartbeats, you could practically see the roiling tempest building behind his eyes as he struggled to formulate a response.

Then, it burst forth in a tumultuous torrent, as if some invisible dam had been irreparably breached.

"Because you haunt me, you insufferable blight!" he snarled, thick fingers tightening in your hair until it stung. "For years, you've chipped away at my defenses with your pestilent tenacity, worming your way past every wall I built until I could no longer be rid of you!"

His free hand slammed into the wall beside your head, the stone buckling inward from the sheer force as he loomed over you like a force of nature given mortal shape. "Your existence has become as indispensable to me as breath itself, do you comprehend that?! Every wretched thought, every insipid desire, can no longer be conceived without your infuriating visage lingering at the mind!"

Another blow struck the unforgiving barrier as his onslaught continued unchecked, words belying emotions so violently profound they could scarcely be contained. "Your heartbeat has become a rhythm that my whole wretched self is forced to follow! TO RID MYSELF OF YOU NOW WOULD BE THE SAME AS CARVING OUT MY OWN WRETCHED SOUL!"

His monumental wrath finally crested in that suspended instant, hands clenching into trembling claws at his sides as if he yearned to grab you and simultaneously pull you close or dash you against the nearest immovable surface. You gaped up at him, utterly transfixed and speechless in the face of such a cataclysmic admission.

Sukuna searched your face with a look of abject desperation, as if willing you to give voice to the very understanding that eluded his tormented grasp. When you remained silent, he seemed to crumple slightly, his shoulders drawing inward with a ragged exhalation.

"Well?!" The single, plaintive word scraped from his lips, more broken plea than demand. "Speak, damn you! Put voice to the festering sickness I cannot rid myself of, no matter how I strain against it!"

Slowly, as if in a daze, you shook your head in a woefully inadequate gesture. "Sukuna, I..."

Your voice trailed off as color rapidly bloomed across your cheeks, eyes abruptly skittering away from his intense scrutiny. By the time they drifted back up to settle on his features, a fiery combination of audacity and sheer longing had taken root.

"I want to kiss you right now," you breathed, the words carrying every ounce of yearning thrumming through your thunderous pulse, "...but I can't reach."

As the simple admission hung in the weighted stillness, you watched transfixed as a myriad of fleeting emotions flickered across Sukuna's striking features. Surprise, naked vulnerability, even a glimmer of what could have been confused for shy uncertainty - until at last, his lips curved in the ghost of a sardonic smirk.

A soft huff of breath parted from the cursed spirit's lips - the unmistakable rumble of restrained amusement resonating from his granite-hewn chest. Yet rather than the mocking disdain you had grown accustomed to over the years, this exhalation carried an undercurrent of begrudging fondness...affection, even.

Slowly, with deliberate carefulness, Sukuna sank to his knees before you, allowing his towering stature to diminish until you were virtually eye-to-eye. His penetrating obsidian gaze remained unwavering, pinning you under the weight of its molten scrutiny as he seemed to drink in your every nuanced reaction.

"Is that so, little leech?" His words were little more than a low rumble, stripped of any bite or rancor. "You wish to bestow your affections upon this...undeserving curse?"

You swallowed hard, mustering every shred of bravery humming through your veins as you gave a infinitesimal nod. Sukuna's lips quirked in a fractional smile, one edge hitching up ever-so-slightly in a subtle softening of his perpetually harsh features.

"Very well then, you sweet fool," he murmured, the rumbling baritone of his voice seeming to reverberate straight into your core. "I shall grant you this indulgence...for now."

With that, he shifted infinitesimally closer, until you could feel the heated puffs of his exhalations ghosting across your face...until his rugged silhouette filled your entire field of vision, encompassing and infinite and utterly overwhelming in its proximity.

Pausing there with exquisite restraint, Sukuna searched your features one final time, allowing one last fragile heartbeat of respite before inclining his regal head in a barely perceptible nod.

The faintest of whispers, little more than the suggestion of his warm breath ghosting against your mouth. "Proceed, my leech."

In the days that followed Sukuna's vulnerability laid bare before you, a tectonic shift seemed to reverberate through the very foundations of your peculiar existence together. What had once been an intricate dance of push and pull, antipathy and grudging acceptance, had blossomed into something altogether new...something infinitely more electric and profound.

If you didn't know better, you might have assumed the legendary harbinger of curses had undergone a complete metamorphosis in the wake of that pivotal moment shared between you. Yet even at his most doting - his most outwardly affectionate - the unmistakable kernel of Sukuna's uncompromising intensity remained.

You noticed it most profoundly in the way his obsidian eyes would trail your every movement, never once straying from your form with a sort of palpable weight and hunger that made your pulse thunder. No matter how seemingly mundane your activities - tending your garden, preparing the evening meal over the hearth fire, simply sitting and staring off into the middle distance - his piercing stare was an inescapable tether tying you back to earth.

At first, you tried valiantly to ignore the way his massive presence seemed to loom over you at every turn, casting its hulking silhouette across yours in a manner that was both comforting and faintly discomfiting. But Sukuna was nothing if not relentless...and persistent in his quest to shatter the very foundations of personal space itself.

It began with the brushes of contact that seemed to linger a moment too long at first - the rough pads of his fingers traipsing across the exposed curve of your shoulder in passing, or ghosting along the small of your back as he navigated around your slight frame. Simple, chaste gestures that nonetheless raised the fine hairs along your nape with their loaded promise of so much more.

Then came the blatant encroachments, as if the cursed spirit had grown impatient with even the slightest iota of perceived distance between you. One moment you would be standing before the hearth cooking utensils in hand, gently humming an idle tune under your breath. The next, Sukuna's towering bulk would materialize at your back, chest pressing flush against you as corded arms snaked around your hips to bracket your frame against his.

"Y-your hands are in the way..." you'd stammered the first time, acutely aware of the masculine heat radiating off of him in waves. "I can't cook like this."

The response had been a low, rumbling chuckle vibrating against your back, shortly followed by the unmistakable brush of Sukuna's lips against the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder.

"Then don't cook, foolish girl," came the gravelly murmur against your flushed skin. "Not when I've yet to properly satisfy my own...hunger."

From there, his public displays of ravenous affection only escalated. No activity seemed exempt from his roving hands and wandering mouth bestowing their lusty attentions upon you with shameless fervor. He would haul you into his lap with little preamble as you chatted idly, effortlessly trapping you within his brawny thighs as he pressed scorchingly hot kisses along your jawline and the column of your throat.

More than once, you found yourself rendered speechless in the midst of some menial task or another - breath catching as Sukuna simply wrapped himself around your smaller frame from behind, nuzzling the crown of your head while emitting a soft rumble of sheer contentment.

"Your incessant blathering was insufferable before, yet now the silence grates upon my senses," he'd grumble against your hair, flexing his grip around your hips a fraction tighter. "Speak, leech. Let me bask in your existence a while longer."

When night fell and the two of you inevitably gravitated towards the plush embrace of his sleeping pallet, any pretenses went out the window entirely. Sukuna seemed determined to enfold you in his granite-hewn embrace until you were thoroughly and utterly consumed, limbs intertwined as his muscular bulk smothered you beneath its sweltering weight.

"S-Sukuna, I can't breathe!" you'd gasp in mock protest, squirming fruitlessly in the iron bands of all four of his arms as his lips found the feverish pulse beating in the hollow of your throat.

"Breathing is an indulgence, not a necessity at present..." would come the velvet-over-gravel purr against your sweat-dampened skin. "Be still, mine."

You lost track of how many nights you awoke curled atop his chest like a favored pet, buffeted by the rise and fall of his deep, slumbering breaths. But rather than extract yourself, you gradually found your own hand drifting up to trace the sharp, austere contours of the face regarding you through half-lidded eyes - his expression curiously unguarded in those hushed moments before the sun crested the horizon.

"Your fascination bores into my thoughts, even in sleep," he'd rumble, arching one imperious brow while making no move to dislodge you. "Does your insufferable scrutiny never end?"

You would simply shake your head, fingers trailing to the masculine curve of his lower lip as you committed every beloved detail to memory. "No more than your need to keep me close does, it seems."

A huff of sardonic laughter before his arms flexed and crushed you more tightly against his chest, all traces of humor melting away into naked, vulnerable sincerity.

"Too true, leech...too true." His deep timbre would reverberate through your very soul as he brushed a lingering kiss across your brow. "Now sleep...and grant me the mercy of indulging this unforgivable weakness a while longer."

Hushing any reply with the molten brand of his lips upon yours, he would acquiesce to the inevitable pull of slumber with you cradled against him like a talisman...twin souls shielded from the rest of the world's harsh realities if only for a few stolen hours.

The gentle burbling of the river provided a soothing melody as you sank into its welcoming embrace, allowing the tepid waters to lap soothingly against your bare skin. A contented sigh parted your lips as you tilted your head back, basking in the warmth of the midday sun filtering through the canopy overhead.

Yet you couldn't quite shake the unmistakable prickling awareness that something...or someone...was watching you.

Dragging your lashes open, your gaze was immediately arrested by Sukuna's imposing silhouette seated on a nearby boulder at the river's edge. His eyes positively smoldered with naked intensity, drinking in every exposed inch of your damp skin with ravenous hunger.

You felt an instinctive flush creeping up your neck and cheeks under the sheer weight of his molten perusal. Not that his frank ogling came as any surprise - the cursed spirit had made little effort to disguise his desire during the past years. But there was something heavy and electric crackling in the air around him now...something more visceral and carnal thrumming through his coiled muscles as he watched you.

Almost involuntarily, your arms drifted up to attempt shielding your bare curves from his searing gaze, throat tightening minutely. "S-Sukuna...must you stare like that?"

The words emerged in a breathless murmur, your gaze skittering across the sharp planes of his features in a futile attempt to avoid being utterly pinned like a butterfly to wax paper. Yet his eyes remained utterly unmoving, devouring you with dark promise.

"And why should I not?" The low rumble of his voice seemed to reverberate through your very bones, sending delicious little tremors shivering along your nerve endings as if in premonition. "Do you not comprehend how utterly bewitching a vision you present, resting among the water's crystalline touch like some mythical nymph?"

You swallowed hard at the ardent compliment laced through with undisguised yearning. Despite the amorous attentions he had already lavished upon you, Sukuna never failed to set your pulse thundering with even his subtlest invocations of desire.

"If you find me so pleasing to look at..." you ventured, aiming for nonchalance but only succeeding in sounding softly winded, "then perhaps you could indulge me and look away? Just for a little while?"

A pregnant pause stretched between you as he appraised your halting request, that mercurial gleam flickering briefly behind his volcanic stare. Then, a low rumble of sardonic laughter rolled forth as his lips quirked in an amused sneer.

"Look away?" he echoed, tongue curling around the words with relish while his gaze continued its shameless roving. "And forfeit the pleasure of imprinting every inch of your body into my memory? I think not, dearest leech."

Sukuna's hulking frame surged to its feet in one fluid, leonine movement that immediately stole the breath from your lungs. Slowly, he began advancing towards the river's edge with inexorable intent simmering in every ground-devouring stride.

"In truth...gazing upon your exquisite form any longer might jeopardize what fragile restraint still tethers my baser urges," he continued, a low, rumbling growl that made you shiver in spite of the water's warmth. "No...I've indulged in simple voyeurism more than long enough, I think."

You felt your pulse skyrocket as the meaning behind his words penetrated the hazy veil of desire blurring your senses. Sinking deeper into the shallows, you instinctively drew your knees up in a futile attempt at modesty, breath catching in your throat as Sukuna reached the riverbank.

"W-what do you mean?" you stammered, even as a profound certainty took root in the pit of your stomach. You knew exactly what he meant...what he intended. The mere prospect of it sent a molten thrill of equal parts trepidation and exhilaration lancing through your veins.

In lieu of responding with hollow words, the cursed spirit simply appraised you with a look of rapturous, unvarnished need for a suspended breath...before effortlessly discarding the tattered remnants of his clothing and stepping into the shallows with purposeful, silent intent.

You couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried, thoroughly transfixed as he stalked ever closer with all the sublime grace of a panther emerging from the underbrush. Raw power and earthy masculinity radiated from his every flex and ripple of corded muscle, enveloping you in its gravitational pull until he loomed over you like an elemental force contained in mortal flesh.

Sukuna gazed down at you for several suspended heartbeats, something deep and profound lurking in those abyssal depths. Then, with aching slowness, he reached for you - the first caress of his calloused fingertips trailing across your jaw and down the quivering column of your throat with searing reverence.

"I want you..." The confession emerged in a low rasp burred with strain, yet ringing with indelible conviction. "Every exquisite shred of your mind, body and soul wrapped around my own indelibly. To become so thoroughly entangled that not even the boundaries of eternity could serve to separate us..."

With a shuddering gasp, you surged up to meet him, wrapping your arms around the granite expanse of his shoulders and finding his mouth in a searing, needful kiss. He answered with a bestial growl, hands spanning your back to crush you against the scorching brand of his body as the world momentarily ceased to exist beyond your joined exhilaration.

What transpired next in the sylvan seclusion of the forest hollow defied articulation through mere human tongue or pen. A communion of two souls who had danced upon the frayed edges of merciless boundaries for far too long, now diving recklessly, irrevocably into the churning depths of whatever thrice-damned connection bound them.

There was no more hesitation or restraint, only an exquisite ache of yearning met with Sukuna's furious brand of intensity - the push and pull of eternal cosmic forces colliding in a single crystalline vertex as you tangled together amid the water's eternal cadence. His mouth and hands and the raging power contained in his very being cleaved you in two, stoking embers into raging conflagrations that threatened to set the very air alight with each gasping breath and trembling caress.

It was only afterwards, when coherent thought fractured through the haze of bliss cradling your senses, that you became aware of Sukuna gathered you up against his chest with preternatural gentleness. His mouth ghosted across your brow reverently as you nuzzled into the thrum of his pulse, every hitched breath carrying the same aching awe and untempered adoration as before.

There were no words spoken as he carried you from the shallows and back towards the sanctum of his domain, only the weight of a connection irrevocably and infinitely forged fresh upon your souls.

The following weeks dissolved into a fevered haze of tangled limbs and breathless intimacy. Sukuna kept you sequestered in the shadowed sanctum of his chambers, allowing scarcely a moment's reprieve before his smoldering gaze and calloused touches stoked your shared passion anew.

With a low, rumbling growl, he would surge over you, pinning your pliant form beneath the scorching brand of his granite-hewn bulk. His large palms mapped every dip and swell of your curves, calloused fingertips tracing paths of searing devotion across your feverish skin until you arched shamelessly into his sensual ministrations.

Sukuna worshipped you with an intensity that bordered on primal obsession. His mouth branded scorching kisses along the elegant column of your throat, teeth grazing that sensitive juncture where your pulse fluttered erratically under his merciless onslaught. You lost yourself to the exquisite duality of pain and pleasure, body thrumming with unbridled ecstasy as he sheathed himself inside your welcoming heat over and over until the world shattered apart.

In the blissful afterglow, he would cradle you against his chest, reverent fingers trailing idle patterns through your disheveled tresses as you drifted in sublime, satiated languor. "Rest now, my precious leech," he would murmur gruffly. "You'll need your strength...for I've only just begun to lay claim to what's mine."

True to his velvet promise, the cursed spirit allowed no quarter for respite, driving you both to sublime precipices with relentless fervor night after night.

Until one particular dawn found you rousing from a restorative slumber, only to find Sukuna looming over you - his harsh features limned in soft pearl light, eyes burning with an indecipherable intensity. Before you could question his strange mood, he silenced you with a calloused fingertip, leaning in to trail the other hand down the taut plane of your abdomen in a shockingly tender caress.

Then, to your utter bewilderment, Sukuna dipped his proud head and pressed his brow against that same spot with an infinitesimal tremor racing through his powerful frame. He remained frozen like that for several weighted beats before rearing back, utterly transfixed.

"You are with child," he rasped in a low rumble of awe, obsidian eyes roving your body with naked reverence. "My child."

One hand extended as if to caress your abdomen once more, only to still just before making contact - as if restraining himself from laying claim to something inviolably sacred. When his molten gaze crashed back to yours, it burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, every facet of the indomitable spirit laid bare.

"Did you not comprehend what you agreed to when you forever bound yourself to me, foolish girl?"

Utterly transfixed, you could only shake your head in a dazed stupor as Sukuna's granite-hewn form descended over yours once more, fitting your bodies together with devastating precision as if sealing an unspoken cosmic covenant.

"Then allow me to show you..." he growled against the swell of your parted lips, voice shredded with rapture and ardent possession as he sealed your joined fates with another searing embrace.

As the weeks melted into months and your pregnancy blossomed, Sukuna's already ardent doting intensified tenfold into something borderline primal. The cursed spirit remained an inextricable bulwark at your side, allowing scarcely a moment's separation between you as your condition advanced.

His touches, once ravenous and claiming, now carried an undercurrent of exquisite tenderness and devotion. Whenever possible, one of his large, calloused palms would splay across the burgeoning swell of your abdomen in a silent reassurance of his vigil. You lost count of how many times you awoke cradled against the scorching brand of his bare chest, with Sukuna's obsidian gaze riveted to your midsection - as if he could will their unborn child into manifesting through the sheer weight of his intensity.

Often, he would lie utterly motionless beside you for what felt like eons, fingers lightly tracing the taut curve of your belly in contemplative reverie. Then, as if beckoned by some unseen summons, he would stiffen almost imperceptibly before a look of naked awe blossomed across his austere features.

"There..." he'd murmur, voice little more than a rasping whisper thick with emotion as his palm flattened firmly against your abdomen. "Feel that, leech? Our offspring moves with prodigious vigor..."

You would laugh softly in breathless delight at the sensation of minute flutters blossoming into unmistakable kicks against his steadying hand, always in awe of Sukuna's inexplicable ability to anticipate them. Amusement would sparkle in the inky depths of your shared gaze whenever he harrumphed indignantly at your mirth, a hint of that old familiar imperiousness writ across his chiseled features.

"Mock me if you wish," he'd growl, leaning in to nuzzle the fragrant hollow beneath your ear. "But you'll not deter me, even for a moment. This life you bear will want for nothing while its father keeps watch..."

Then the hot brand of his mouth would slant over yours in a ferociously devouring kiss, his free hand roving relentlessly across your sensitized curves with scorching intent. You surrendered to his inflamed ardor completely, shamelessly reveling in the molten frissons of desire Sukuna so effortlessly incited in you even well into your third trimester.

" Insatiable..." you'd gasp between fevered caresses, squirming futilely against the granite cradle of his pelvis undulating against yours. "The child's practically done cooking and you still can't keep your hands off me..."

An iniquitous smirk would curve his lips in answer as his mouth trailed liquid heat along the taut column of your throat. "And whose fault is that, precious leech? You taunt me with every look, each intake of breath that gently swells your form... How could I resist feasting upon such utter temptation while I still can?"

This interlude would inevitably lead to another protracted joining, all the more impassioned due to the constraints necessitated by your condition. Yet Sukuna appeared undeterred - energized - by the challenges inherent in worshipping your burgeoning shape. No position or angle seemed too unorthodox to accommodate, so long as he could indulge in every newly hypersensitized inch of satin skin left panting and flushed in the smoldering wake of his lavish attentions.

And when, at long last, even your seemingly boundless ardor reached its peak and left you limp and thoroughly sated, he would huff a self-satisfied growl against your temple. His palms would caress the gentle swell with a tenderness that never failed to steal your breath anew as you reveled in the tranquility of the aftermath.

"Sleep, mine..." he'd rumble, the inflection soft yet weighted with immutable possession. "I shall revel in our offspring's vigor until I fall asleep as well..."

So you would slip into blissful oblivion cradled securely against Sukuna's granite contours, lulled by the measured pounding of his heartbeat and the reassuring glide of his fingertips tracing idle sigils against your abdomen. Safe in the knowledge that while your world had irrevocably shifted and expanded to encompass this extraordinary metamorphosis, his unwavering guardianship remained the inviolable anchor grounding your joined existence.

Even before the child took its first breath, Sukuna had dedicated every fiber of his towering, unearthly being to ensuring neither you nor his young would ever know a moment's doubt...a single tremulous heartbeat beyond the sheltering, infinite orbit of his devotion.

-

Sukuna's jaw was set in a taut line as he prepared to depart, the muscle ticking visibly beneath his chiseled features. His obsidian eyes burned with an intensity that could incinerate souls as he raked his smoldering gaze over your form.

"I will return before the moon sets," he growled, the words laced with an undercurrent of vehement reluctance. "But you are not to exert yourself or wander far, leech. This separation tries my restraint enough as it is."

Sensing the turmoil simmering beneath his imposing veneer, you offered a placating smile and reached up to trace the harsh contours of his face. "I'll be fine, my love. The little one and I will explore the garden for some fresh air, nothing more."

Sukuna's eyes slitted dangerously at your flippant reassurance, but he made no further rebuke. With a disdainful snort, he turned on his heel and stalked away, disappearing into the shadowed tree line like a wrathful specter consigned to some undesirable errand.

Shaking your head fondly at his overprotectiveness, you set off towards the burgeoning garden sanctuary at an unhurried pace, drinking in the vibrant scenery and allowing the tranquility to soothe your restlessness.

You never saw the vile, twisted figure slithering through the underbrush until it was too late. An aura of pure malevolence radiated from its very presence, freezing you in place like a rabbit in a snake's thrall. Those haunting words like rusted nails on a headstone would be the last thing you processed before the darkness claimed you:

"Well, well...what a delightful prize you'll make..."

-

The air was fragrantly alive with the perfume of fresh fruit as Sukuna materialized at the entrance of his sanctum, arms laden with an assortment of your latest cravings. His strides slowed fractionally as the silence stretched on without your usual cheerful greeting, the furrow between his brows deepening incrementally.

"Leech?" he called out gruffly, piercing gaze sweeping their domain with mounting unease. Where was the insufferable chatterbox? Ordinarily she would have come scampering at the mere hint of his return, practically levitating with excitement over whatever frivolous indulgences he'd procured.

That's when he caught the faintest undercurrent of a malign presence tainting the air - a profane blight that caused the hairs along his nape to bristle with instinctive aggression. Sukuna rounded the corner with the swift lethality of a panther, only to freeze as his eyes landed upon a grotesque, hunched figure blocking his path.

"Meddlesome vermin," he snarled, drawing himself up to his full towering height as unholy power thrummed beneath his very skin. "Where is the girl?"

The man let out a gurgling, wet chuckle that grated like rusty blades before gesturing carelessly towards the shadows behind it. "Oh she's around here somewhere...what's left of her anyway."

White-hot rage detonated through Sukuna's being like a shockwave, barely allowing the malformed words to register before he lashed out with catastrophic force. One second the creature stood leering with repugnant confidence...and the next its entire vile essence had been utterly erased from existence without so much as a parting scream to mark its demise.

As the residual ozone of his onslaught simmered into eerie quiet once more, only one thought pounded through Sukuna's skull with inescapable dread. With each frantic bellow of your name that echoed unanswered through the labyrinthine corridors, the knot of trepidation within him twisted ever tighter until it threatened to splinter his ribs from the inside out.

When at last his frenzied search reached the fringes of the garden, there you lay mere feet from the treeline - a crumpled, motionless silhouette wreathed in rapidly congealing crimson that very nearly brought the indomitable Sukuna to his knees.

He crossed the space in two lurching strides, sinking to the loamy earth beside your broken form as gently as his shaking hands would allow. Calloused fingertips ghosted across the pale curve of your cheek, the warmth so recently alight there already seeping away into the abyss of oblivion far too soon.

With excruciating care, Sukuna cradled you against his chest, willing his desperate touches to somehow reignite the brilliant spark of your radiant existence. Yet as his palm came to rest upon the swell that housed the fragile blossom of new life you had both sworn fealty to beyond the constraints of eternity itself...he felt nothing.

No tremulous flutter of vitality, no rhythm of a miniature heartbeat destined to become his entire world. Just...emptiness. A void that stole the very breath from his lungs and seared his eyes with an unforgivable ache he didn't dare put a name to.

In that moment, the indomitable force of nature that was Sukuna could do nothing but draw your lifeless body flush against his own. His lips brushed your cooling brow with a tenderness too profound for words as his piercing gaze glassed over, staring sightlessly into the endless oblivion your light had fled.

No roars of anguish rent the air. No seismic upheaval of his cosmic maleficence rocked the foundations in inconsolable devastation. Only the scouring blanket of silence and stillness fell...engulfing the once indomitable Sukuna in a void more vast and eternal than any eternity he'd ever known.

The hushed stillness that blanketed the clearing felt utterly suffocating, a death knell smothering every infinitesimal particle until reality itself seemed to grind to a halt. Sukuna remained frozen, trapped in the hollowed vacuum of this calamity as he cradled your lifeless form with a tenderness that defied every facet of his fearsome, primordial nature.

For once, there were no words - no gravel-toned rumbles of reassurance or the faintest flickers of consolation that you would stir and blink up at him with that radiant warmth he had grown terribly, irrevocably addicted to. Just the silence...and the fading whisper of your breath mingling with his own before fading away entirely.

"Breathe, damn you..." The ragged plea emerged as little more than a fractured rasp as his hand drifted up to cradle the back of your skull, thumbs brushing featherlight against your marbled cheeks. "Fight against me as you always do when I overstep, leech. Unleash that stubborn, foolish spark upon me once more..."

But you remained achingly, horrifically still - a fragile husk where the vivacious spirit who had bound your fates together once blazed with unfettered vitality. Sukuna's throat worked convulsively, lips shaping a benediction he could no longer bear to speak aloud, lest it seal your oblivion in inevitable truth.

So instead he lost himself in the reverie of recollection, frantically revisiting every infinitesimal moment and indelible impression seared into the cosmos of his being. From that fateful eve in the forest when you'd first foolishly bound yourself to his existential path...to the shared agonies and hard-won intimacies and sacred vows that had incrementally chipped away at his callous exterior until the most unshakable bastion lay irrevocably breached.

Yours had been the beating heart that carried his own bestial cadence in tandem, an orbit of incandescent radiance to which he remained hopelessly, inescapably tethered. And with that searing spark of your effervescence now extinguished, the darkness of his eternal existence stretched on in a hollow, suffocating void he could scarcely fathom enduring.

Trembling fingers tangled in your lank tresses, smoothing the silken strands away from your features in one last, tender caress. Sukuna pressed his brow to yours, allowing the achingly finite essence that had once reverberated between your entwined spirits to soak into his marrow one ultimate time.

"I am…undone, precious leech..." he whispered, every timber of his deep voice sheared to anguished splinters against the weight of this ineffable parting. "I am erased...unmade...what force could keep my tormented soul anchored to life without you as its guiding light?"

He drew a rasping breath, memorizing the flutter of your lashes against his cheek and the softness of your brow furrowed ever so slightly - just as he had that first, fateful evening you bound yourself to his dark orbit. Then Sukuna's lips found yours in one final, searing brand...the farewell benediction and aching vow that an eternity would never suffice to articulate.

As his burning touch lingered there fractionally longer than any mortal lifespan, the cursed spirit felt something ancient and primal splinter deep within his celestial essence. The uncaring cosmos itself seemed to crack and wheeze in protest as he sliced through its indifferent veil, severing every tether that lashed his malign power and eternal vitality to its perpetual cycle.

Uncaring of the fallout, Sukuna simply clung to your slackened frame, allowing the irrevocable oblivion of his fading existence to blanket you both in its infinite solace. If he strained mortal perception, he could almost glimpse the fractured glimmers flickering at the periphery - the first vestiges of that spark he'd once sworn to follow like an insipid moth into its searing, soul-cleansing embrace.

Of oblivion's sweet, eternal reunion with the only light he'd ever known...the final tether securing his wretched existence to all of creation's truths irrevocably severed at last.

[your-nanas-house]

The Beginning

◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap

◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3, Part 4

The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.

In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.

One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.

There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.

The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.

This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.

Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.

After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.

The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.

She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.

The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.

Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.

New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.

It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.

Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.

The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".

The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.

She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.

Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.

She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.

She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.

"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".

Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.

It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.

The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.

His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her

shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.

Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.

Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.

Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.

Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.

Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.

Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.

And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.

That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.

The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.

Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.

His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.

Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.

Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.

His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.

The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.

As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.

The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.

The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".

As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.

In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.

Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces

[fataldrum]

Dorian Gray is queer art, period.

Apparently Netflix has decided to make an adaption of The Picture of Dorian Gray with Dorian and Basil as siblings. Unless they're planning to go the gothic horror incest route, they've completely missed the point of the relationship between these characters.

If you haven't read the book, Basil is a painter who becomes infatuated with a beautiful young man, pouring his feelings into a painting. Dorian becomes jealous of the painting's beauty, realizing that he will never be as young and unspoiled as the version of himself on the canvas. He finds himself wishing that the painting could age instead of him. His wish is granted, allowing him to stay young and beautiful until the end, with his moral and spiritual decline reflected only in the painting.

I cannot overstate how queer this book is. Dorian is so beautiful that their first meeting inspires a wave of existential terror in Basil. Dorian changes Basil's entire understanding of art and beauty. This book is so queer it was used as evidence at Wilde's sodomy trial.

The existence of the portrait itself is tantamount to a confession of queer desire. Basil tells his friend, Lord Henry, that he can't exhibit the painting because "I have put too much of myself into it.”

Lord Henry (who will later lead Dorian into a life of vice) laughs, but Basil explains:

“[E]very portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. [...] It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.”

This is how he describes meeting Dorian:

When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with some one whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself. [...] I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then—but I don’t know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.”

Notice that turn of phrase--it was not conscience but cowardice that made him attempt to flee. Why would conscience factor into his decision? Because he felt shame at his reaction to Dorian's perfect, beautiful face.

Lord Henry is shocked to discover Basil cares for something besides his art.

“He is all my art to me now,” said the painter gravely. “I sometimes think, Harry, that there are only two eras of any importance in the world’s history. The first is the appearance of a new medium for art, and the second is the appearance of a new personality for art also. What the invention of oil-painting was to the Venetians, the face of Antinous was to late Greek sculpture, and the face of Dorian Gray will some day be to me.

Basil goes on to confess, "I see everything in him. He is never more present in my work than when no image of him is there."

Lord Henry still doesn't understand why there is too much of Basil in the painting, so Basil explains:

“Because, without intending it, I have put into it some expression of all this curious artistic idolatry, of which, of course, I have never cared to speak to him. He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it, and I will not bare my soul to their shallow prying eyes. My heart shall never be put under their microscope. There is too much of myself in the thing, Harry—too much of myself!”

Lord Henry asks how Dorian feels about Basil, and his response is absolutely tragic.

The painter considered for a few moments. “He likes me,” he answered after a pause; “I know he likes me. Of course I flatter him dreadfully. I find a strange pleasure in saying things to him that I know I shall be sorry for having said. As a rule, he is charming to me, and we sit in the studio and talk of a thousand things. Now and then, however, he is horribly thoughtless, and seems to take a real delight in giving me pain. Then I feel, Harry, that I have given away my whole soul to some one who treats it as if it were a flower to put in his coat, a bit of decoration to charm his vanity, an ornament for a summer’s day.”

Any adaptation that ignores the way Dorian's existence and beauty utterly destroyed Basil is doomed to be shallow and insipid. This is not just a book about a magic painting. It's a monument to queer longing.

[koiiiji]

i accidentally posted this without any text, that’s why im reuploading it, like this, sorry!!

so, sure bby!! will try to figure out something for them

also i think this part ideally fits with latest chapters, bc it was mostly about sabbath!! and wb fandom is finally knowns Joker real name Hajun…so cute!!

you know what else is cute? my bday today😤😤

☾ all characters aged up ☾

*ੈ✩‧₊ sabbath & monster crew nasty/perverted habits pt.2🍐 🐇🧴

COQUETTE!Joker/Hajun

hardly sure that joker shyly would ask you to wear some bows and lace, he definitely have thing for coquette, fight me. seeing you under him, wearing cute skirt, or pink top with open neck and collarbone with lace collar, mix it and add some snow white leg warmers? don’t even think about opportunity to walk next morning.

JERK OFF!Hyeok

mentioned in my really first headcanons that hyeok is pervert who jerk off on random girls who he saw on street, if he found them hot, like bitch do this by memory (he is too lazy to search some porn to turn himself on) so he have good imagination. when he saw you in league of street, wearing your sport uniform he was so grateful that he didn’t participate in competitions that day, his pants felt too tight suddenly.

EXHIBITIONIST!Wooin

wooin is up to everything. like everything. but his dirty secret? to fuck you when someone watches, like a boy/girl from your uni who had a crush on you. maybe share you with someone too (someone white or red haired preferably)

KNISMOLAGNIA!Monster/Deokbong

he can’t control himself when your touch is even a little bit feels like a tickle. it may seem strange, but he is very sensitive in certain places, for example in his back, and when you haven't dated yet, but were just friends, it was so hard for him to restrain himself when you hugged him and stroked his back... poor boy was immediately turned on.

FOOT FETISH!Gyuchan

do i even need to explain? gyuchan fascinated by your legs and foot, bonus points if you doing sport connected to extra load to legs, so firstly he would use massage for your legs as an excuse to touch it and feel. secondly you found yourself mostly in positions in sex where your legs are close to his face, like for example they laying on his shoulders and he stroking and kissing your ankles. when you had a talk he admitted that he had a foot fetish and honestly he was so ready for some jokes about foot fetishists.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

First Date - Diasomnia

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia; Silver; Sebek Zigvolt & Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: None. Except maybe a little spoiler about Silver that he tells in Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree

WORD COUNT: An average of 710 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: I think Diasomnia is the hardest dorm to write for me. That's because, apart from Malleus, I don't have many romantic feelings for the others. I like them, I love Lilia, but not in that way. But I still try my best to write something that I think you will like. I just hope it's good enough.

I hope you enjoy ;)

Aaaah, the day has finally arrived. Malleus already wanted to ask you on a date for a long time. But with his status, doing something like that in public wasn't a good idea. Something like that being public knowledge could be bad for him and especially for you. After all, he learned from a young age to deal with rumors and social pressure. Besides, no one in their right mind would mess with him. But not only are you human, you can't even use magic. He doesn't even want to think about how your life could be affected because of him. At least for now.

So your first date would have to be discreet and even a secret. Fortunately, you two are quite fans of secrets. He doesn't tell you where he's going to take you. You only find out when the two of you are already in the front yard of the ruins of an abandoned mansion. If you also like abandoned places like him (and me) you will find that mansion fascinating! If you're not a big fan, maybe you'll be a little scared. But either way, you'll find it a strange and perhaps a little disappointing choice for a first date to say the least.

“Something the matter?” he asks you. You say no, that you're just intrigued and curious to know why he chose that place. He smiles, amused. “Then we must enter, to satisfy your curiosity.” he takes a step in front and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?” You take it and the two walk hand in hand through the undone front yard.

That place make you feel a little unease, so you end up squeezing his hand and taking your other hand to his arm, like hugging it. It makes him happy, knowing that you see him as someone who will protect you.

As soon as you walk through the front doors, you see that, despite being slightly run-down, the interior is magnificent. A mansion so gorgeous that seeing it in ruins even feels like blasphemy. He can see it in your face which makes him laugh. You are still holding hands, so he leads you to the dining room while he tells you a little about the history of that mansion. Nothing too scary. People had to evacuate many years ago and just never came back.

The dining room still had the long table, the chairs, the furniture, a few damaged paintings and even a vase of dead flowers in the middle of the table. He pulls out one of the chairs for you to sit on. This one was in bad shape, but as soon as he touched it, it instantly restored itself. You sit down, and he loves the way you're looking at him, intrigued to know what he's going to do.

Standing beside you and smiling at you, he snaps his fingers. And the entire room is restored with his magic. As if time were turning back to his state of glory. He never took his eyes off you. Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the entire mansion. And you are surprised again when the three ghosts of the Ramshackle Dorm appear as butlers to serve you dinner. Malleus asked them for that favor. Of course, your favourite dishes.

He sits right next to you. “Tell me, is this good enough for a first date? Should I restore the entire mansion and the garden as well?” You tell him how you feel, that it's more than enough, that it's one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever done for you. He takes your hands in his and look you in the eyes “I'm glad this pleases you so much. But something inside me wants a little more than this. I'm looking forward to the day when we'll be just like this, but in my castle and with my grandmother, the queen, getting to know you and seeing you as I do.” and he caresses your cheek.

You tell him how much you look forward to that day too, while smiling and bringing your forehead closer to his. After these touch each other, it's your lips' turn.

It will probably have to be you asking Silver out on a first date to wait for him to do it. Not that he didn't want to ask you, but he's not exactly the best in that department. He can be a little... clueless. You will catch him by surprise with your invitation. “A date? No, it's not that I don't want to go on one with you. It's quite the opposite. I'm sorry I didn't express it in the better way.” He gives you his sweetest smile and blushes a little “I-I would love to go on a date with you.”

When you ask about what you could do on this date, he asks you to let him be the one to prepare everything. Since it's the least he can do for not being the one inviting you. That and since he's from Twisted Wonderland, he might have an easier time figuring out places you can go together.

He's a simple, sweet guy who made the mistake of asking his dad for ideas. Luckily he is aware that bungee jumping would not be a good first date idea. Okay, okay, but after messing with his son for a bit, Lilia still manages to give a good tip: go to a place with animals and work your magic... Not your real magic, dummy.

Well, the only thing he can remember is a picnic. He just hope it's not too boring for you. He doesn't do anything too elaborate. Like I said, he's a simple guy. But the place he chose to take you was beautiful. a small glade in the forest on the edge of a small peaceful river. You can hear the water of the river mixed with the birds singing.

You hold the basket as he spreads out the picnic blanket. And suddenly, at the two opposite ends of the blanket, two little birds appear to help him spread it out. You can't hide your surprise and it makes him smile in amusement. You sit down and start your picnic. And some animals appear while you are distracted by each other.

You begin to notice that new birds of other colours have appeared. Squirrels, with both those big fluffy tails and the short-tailed ones. And rabbits, some gray and some brown. Silver sees the way you look at them, the face of someone who wants to pet them. So he uses his "magic" to make the animals approach him and you. Thanks to it, you can pet all those animals, birds, squirrels and rabbits. You may not realize it, but he smiles while seeing your own smile.

Suddenly, those animals start running away. But you don't know why. Until you hears very heavy footsteps approaching. Silver automatically stands and takes a defensive position in front of you to protect you. From the middle of the trees a big bear appears! You get scared, but Silver doesn't. In fact, he even relaxes a little. The bear itself is not even standing, it is standing on all fours and does not look angry.

Silver turns to you, smiling and extends a hand to you who were still sitting on the blanket. “Do not be afraid. I know this bear.” You look at him in shock. “Everything is fine. She just know I was here and wanted to say hello. Would you like to meet her?” You take his hand and he helps you up. He slowly approaches the bear, without taking his hands off your shoulders. He takes your hand and holds it out to the bear, who sniffs it and then lowers her head to let you pet her. A few seconds later you hear some small grunts near your feet. Cub bears!

His father was right. You were so happy playing with those cute little cubs. And even Mama Bear thought she should help you two out a little bit. She pushes you with her muzzle so you fall into Silver's arms. And you take the opportunity to hug him and tell him how amazing that date was being. And if you kiss him on the cheek, he'll kiss your cheek right back, until the two of you are on each other's lips.

(Lilia may or may not be spying on you two and celebrating in silence.)

How did you do that? All people who know Sebek are incredulous! It took a long time to arrive this moment. And meanwhile, the way he treats you has changed. He still calls you Human, but this time it's more like a pet name, a bit like Malleus calls you Child of Man. And he smiles at you a lot more, although most of the time he still has that serious grimace of his. And how did he invite you on the date?

“HUMAN!” he catches your attention and approaches you. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” The two of you move away from the others to speak more privately. And he starts to blush “I... um...” he takes a deep breath “Would you like to come with me on a date?” You often hear people saying that phrase in another word order, but still you accept, laughing a little. “You... EXCELLENT!” he smiles at you, the kind of smile he only gave Malleus. And says he will pick you up the next afternoon.

He knocks effusively on the door, so much so that it scares you. When you open the door, the first thing you see is a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums in your favourite colours. You pick it up and hold it in your arms. You look at Sebek and... um... I mean he looks very handsome and elegant, but was a suit like that needed for a first date? He looked more like he was in the new Operation Proposal group. Nonetheless, the sight of him in that suit could make you blush. He had a confident smile on his face until he looks at your clothes. Well, he didn't warn you that it was going to be that kind of date. So you dressed for a "normal" one.

“WHAT IS THAT? Don't tell me you don't have date clothes! You should have told me! I would have provided you with the best outfit for the occasion!” You argue with him a bit about there being different types of dates and he didn't specify the type of date because he wanted to surprise you. “*Sigh* You’re right. I apologize for not giving you enough information to choose your outfit correctly.” Fortunately, you had more suitable clothing for the occasion. You go up to your room to change and when you come down, you can see his smug face blush.

He takes you to... Diasomnia. He takes immense pride in his dorm and wanted to get you to the best place possible. He has prepared a room especially for the two of you. With the help of Lilia, Silver and maybe even Malleus. (Let's pretend in this "reality", Malleus isn't that attached to you) And, surprise or not: a candlelit dinner. In this case with green fire. Lilia told him it was a classic.

The main course was a typical traditional Briar Valley dish. But dessert was your favourite. Yes, there were times when he spoke of Malleus. You cannot change it on him. And later, somehow, you ended up talking about his parents. You start to tease him about his mother falling in love with a "mere" human. Couldn't that be a parallel with the two of you as well?

“Do not be ridiculous! I would never fall in love with a mere human! My standers are reasonably higher than that.” And if you ask him why you two are on a date: “Weren't you paying attention to what I was saying? I said that I would never fall in love with a mere human. I cannot believe you identify as one! Do you really believe that a mere human would do everything you've done? There are humans capable of using magic, who would never reach your heels. So, never again believe that you are on such a low level, do you hear me?!”

You smile, more flattered than ever. Which makes him smile too. This is your chance to challenge him to prove how special he really thinks you are. How? How about a kiss? After all, this is a date, isn't it?

The way Lilia asked you out on a date was so... him... that you didn't even know if he was just joking or being serious. Either way, you accepted it. Which seemed to surprise him a little. “Khee hee hee. Very well then. A date shall be.” If you ask when, he'll smirk at you. “You enjoy surprises as well, correct?” then he kisses your cheek and disappears.

You would be expecting him to show up at least the next day, right? And that's why he only appears the day after that. Or rather, the night after that. You hear knocking on your window, you draw the curtains, but you see nothing. Until he suddenly appears upside down outside. After the scare he gave you, you open the window.

“Khee hee. Good evening, prefect.” He looks at the pajamas you have on. “It's not what I expected you to wear for our date, but it sure is different. Khee hee, worry not. I'll give you time to change. I'll wait for you in the living room.” Before he leaves your room, you try to ask him where you are going so you know what to wear. “Um... very well, I'll give you a hint: dress to have fun.” And that's the only clue he gives you. Just in case, you dress in a little more sporty style, but still pretty.

He tells you it's an excellent choice and how good that outfit looks on you. You walk to the Mirror chamber for, through the looking glass, him to take you to... an Amusement Park. And since it's already night, the park is all lit up with the colours of the rides and food stalls. Coming from a kingdom solely reliant on magic, this sort of things are fascinating to him. And better, since magic is not necessary to have fun there, nothing prevents you from having as much fun as he does.

He will try to take you to the most crazy rides. If you like that, great! You are going to be the bravest couple in the entire park. Which will contrast with how cute you two are on the outside. If you don't like these rides. There is absolutely no problem. He will ride with you wherever you want and feel comfortable riding. The priority is you. If you are having fun, he will be having fun with you. That and, let's face it, this guy probably already did crazier things than riding a roller-coaster. Which means your fun is more important.

After the rides, you have dinner together at one of the food stalls. He offers to pay for everything. Old chivalry. After eating and before leaving, he suggests that the two of you take a look at the prize booths. He would like the two of you to carry away some good memories of that day.

A small plush of a black and pink bat catches your eye and you tell Lilia how much that plush reminds you of him. Not just for the colours (and the size) but also because both are so cute! “Would you like to try to win one? I make a point of paying for your attempts.” he doesn't want you to worry about money, just having fun.

The prize is a target shooting stand. You have to blow up the balloons with a dart. You have three tries, you need to get at least two right to get that bat. But everyone fails. Lilia notices that the prize booth guy is using magic to make you fail, but doesn't comment. Instead, he pretends not to have noticed and offers to win the plush for you himself.

Fooled by his cute appearance, the guy does the same trick on him, but it fails miserably. With just a quick gesture, he hits the three balloons in a row. Which surprises/scares the booth guy. He could get the highest prize, but he just wants the little bat. “Oh, actually I have a proposal for you.” he says with his cute smile. “What if, instead of the highest prize, you gave us those two stuffed bats? Maybe that could also redeem you from using magic against my dear date. Surely you regret using such a low trick?” he's still smiling, but his bright red eyes are menacing.

He got the black bat with pink details for you and a pink bat with black details for himself. Now, he also had something that reminded him of you. “I hope that trick of his didn't make you sad that your attempts failed.” You say maybe at first, but after seeing Lilia in action and scaring that guy, you're even glad you failed the balloons just to see that. “Khee hee hee. Your way of seeing the positive side of things is undoubtedly irresistible.” and he kisses your cheek “Um? Why that face? Were you expecting another kind of kiss?” he smirks, as an invitation to be yourself and get what you want from him.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[leggerefiore]

How would the Pokémon villains ask their partner to marry them?

cw: proposals, fluff

characters: Lysandre, Maxie, Archie, Volo, Cyrus

🔥Lysandre🍷

☕️ Truthfully, he is not sure why he has not proposed to you at some point. Lysandre does not expect to find another person he views as beautiful as nor does he think he would have you slip away from him, yet somehow, in the midst of his plans, it just never comes up. His work consumes him, and he barely has the time to contemplate marriage in his schedule. Yet, it crosses his mind after listening to a grunt talk about his plans to pay for his spouse's entrance fee. It suddenly occurs to him that many men his age and position are married. For a moment, he feels foolish for not acting sooner. There was no need to wait for his beautiful world to get married, after all.

☕️ He spends time bouncing ideas about how to do it with those he feels most comfortable with. Sycamore ends up encouraging him to do just do it naturally. Feeling that if he tries to make a show of it, that would become uncomfortable or distressed by what is supposed to be a happy moment. Malva asks if he cannot just delay it a bit longer, which he ignores. Suddenly, his perfect world cannot be achieved unless he is married. Lysandre begins to make plans for a trip in order to get away from work and make a memorable thing for you both. (Perhaps a proper farewell and remembrance of this world to him partially.)

☕️ A ring was bought to be something discreet yet meaningful. He had been extremely picky to the point that having it commissioned to be custom-made had been the only way to fulfil whatever he felt was necessary for his ring. A Hessonite Garnet had caught his attention, and a golden band felt like the only pairing he would allow. When he finally had it, his heart felt at ease. The orange shade of the gem was a colour that he had long since been fascinated with.

☕️ A trip to Snowbelle for a quiet getaway in the colder locale proved something much needed for both of you. Spending time cuddled up in a cabin was a pleasant escape from the endless stresses related to both of his organisations. Though, there were also a few trips out into the nearby forest for a relaxing hike and a trip to a nearby mountain range to try skiing and other winter proclivities. Of course, it was after a long day spent out in the freezing weather that he found himself with you snuggled into his side in front of a fire. The crackling of flames made his mind wander. The ring box was pulled out of his slacks' pocket.

“For many years now, I have been blessed to have you at my side,” Lysandre spoke with his voice down to a soft rumble, “I am eternally thankful that you and I met, and would never wish to lose you.” He grasped your left hand within his own as he knelt before you. His height made it feel a bit ineffective, but his eyes met yours with a strange gentleness that was solely reserved for those he deeply cared about. He brought out the ring and watched as it glimmered in the fire's light.

“Will you marry me, my love?” he asked with an exposed heart. Your denial could well and truly destroy him. “There is no other I find as perfect as you… Please, let us spend the rest of our lives entwined.”

☀️Maxie🌋

🪨 He thinks about it unfortunately pretty often. Most men his age are married. Though, granted, most men his age also did not nearly destroy the world in pursuit of their own ideals. But, he did have a partner. One he was quite committed to. One that, if provided the opportunity, he would marry. Yet, he just had not found it in himself for so many reasons. His plans had required his full attention previously. Though, now, nothing like that stood in his way. A slight insecurity burned the Great Maxie's chest. He was not someone worthy of such things after what he did. An off-handed comment from Archie about you being his spouse is what finally set him over.

🪨 He quietly debates how to get everything together. There were many things that would need to be done in the case you said yes. Like meeting each other's families properly for a wedding discussion. Maxie truly did not want to do that part, but it was what was proper. He has a headache thinking about how to do it, too. Rings were the most common choice for proposing to a partner, so he knew he would need to look into that as well. Detailed lists are made and spied upon by Tabitha, who makes the rare decision to interfere. A suggestion to take you on a trip to Lavaridge seemed to make Maxie become a bit more grounded towards you.

🪨 Maxie about drives every possible jeweller in Hoenn insane. He is far too picky about the origins and details related to the gems in their rings, which makes him an annoying customer. There is little debate about what ring exactly he plans to give to you. He had already designed it on his computer and was searching for a shop either willing to make it or with something close enough that he could feel contented with it. A ruby ring with a golden band. He would settle for no more or less. The shimmering red of the gem may have reminded him of the shade of the Red Orb, but it also forced to mind his team's colour. Not to mention it just being his favourite gem. Somehow, he eventually found someone through Steven, who only sent aid when seeing a fellow rock enthusiastic in him.

🪨 The trip that Tabitha suggested ended up being a wonderful idea. A traditional inn and the shifting of the season into autumn made for a relaxing visit to the area and hot springs. While he may not enjoy the cold, he could recognise a good pairing. You seemed to enjoy the trip, too. Happy to get away from all the stresses of helping him run Team Magma and Courtney's new persistent glaring regiment. It was after a trip to the hot spring, that you found yourselves alone in your room, watching as the sun set behind the mountainous surroundings of the town. The swirling of leaves in the air and a quiet moment made him recall the ring box in his pocket.

“For what reason that has continued to see you at my side after my incalculable lapse in judgement, I do not know,” he began quietly, feeling that insecurity rise once again. You could do much better than him; you deserved much better than him. But, when you looked at him with eyes full of love, those thoughts were forced back. “I am ever thankful that I still have you in my life and that I was stopped before I destroyed this world,” Maxie felt his hand come to grasp yours. You felt so warm in his grip, your pulse beating in tandem with his own.

The ring was revealed by him as he swallowed. His glasses felt much too heavy on his face as he became aware of just how surreal everything was. “My dear, will you marry me?” The question felt like a solid weight in the air. “I don't think there's another person that I could see myself living out the end of my days with.”

🌧Archie🌊

💧 It crosses his mind a few times. He has been with for so long, and you have stuck at his side through his worst moments. Honestly, he just felt like it did not need to be done. You both clearly were basically married without all the official documents and what have you. The whole of Team Aqua already thought you to be his spouse, anyway. Something official felt redundant. Though, the second he heard Maxie intended to get married, suddenly his opinion shifted hard. Of course, the nerd would feel the need to go through all the legal channels and whatever else. He refused to let the redhead get ahead of him, however.

💧 He debates how to go about it. Between asking Matt and him just telling Archie to go ahead and do it with little thought, to Shelly forcing him to actually be realistic and doing something romantic first, he felt a bit confused. He sighed as the admin made him remember that he probably should speak to his and your families, but he felt that was all tiring. Who cared about tradition? All that mattered was love, and he certainly had that. He did find the talk about a gift of jewellery while doing it more interesting. Could he get you something to better match his anchor? His interest was not in the expected avenues. Archie highly doubted you were going to say no.

💧 He pretty quickly settles on a sapphire ring. It's blue, he likes blue, and it makes him think of the Blue Orb. It works pretty much to fulfil everything he would possibly need it to. Though, despite the insistence of the store clerk to go for a silver band, he demands a golden one. He needed it to match his necklace, after all. His original plan had been to get you a necklace like his, but Shelly shut that down the second it left his mouth. (Matt told him to still go for it, but he could tell the ring was probably a better choice in the end.)

💧 He takes you out for a quiet stroll on the beach of Lilycove as the sun was setting. The sound of the waves lapping against the shore almost felt in tune with his heartbeat. His eyes darted to you a few times, taking in how the light made you almost seem to be glowing. The ocean was nothing but a complimentary scenery as he felt whatever small nervousness melt away. You stuck with him even after the Kyogre madness and supported him wholeheartedly when he changed the direction of his team. He reached into the unzipped part of his wetsuit to go for the ring box.

“Luvdisc, I know tha' I have made some pretty unforgivable mistakes,” Archie felt a rare, sheepish grin fall across his face, “And I'm thankful that you have stuck by me through all that.” His eyes met yours as you cocked a brow up at where he could possibly be going with this. The two of you had long since discussed everything that happened, but he felt the urge to preface it all with that. He grasped your hand tightly as his usual grin split his face. There was nothing to worry about, the Aqua Leader reassured himself.

“Let's get married,” he proudly announced while pulling out the ring, “I already see ya as my spouse, so why not just make it official? I want to spend every day to come at your side.”

💫Volo📜

⭐️ Marriage never crosses his mind. Honestly, he doesn't even consider a long term in his life about most things. Marriage is not something overly common in Hisui. Sure, his people had traditions like it and the clans did, too. In his case, marriages were usually decided by the parents of the person, which resembled what most of the Galaxy Team seemed to favour. But, he could tell you viewed it differently. It was obvious you wanted whatever it was you saw it as with him. And then, after what happened at the Temple of Sinnoh between you both, he just saw it as impossible.

⭐️ Volo listened intensely to what you had to say about your time period as you went on about it. From what he deciphered, it was clear marriage is mostly viewed as a romantic thing to do in your time, not as a way of combing powers or funds. It interests him, as you continued onto proposals and modern married life. All of it interested him, but everything was impossible in the period you both resided in. Marriage between you two would be essentially nothing more than a quiet declaration between you both. There would be no rings or jewellery, only a common understanding of a dedicated relationship. While, he would have been fine with that, something told him that you would crave the image you had in your head of a wedding ceremony.

⭐️ Before he had time to even discuss such things with you, you were gone. The sky which spit you out in Hisui had consumed you once more and taken you back from whence you came. His frustration boiled in his chest. Arceus was mocking him at this point. He gripped a precious agate bracelet in his hand as he glared harshly at the sky. The accessory was difficult to obtain, having to sway previous merchant connections to have it. His plan had been to offer it as a gift before promising to spend his life at your side. It was far too late for that now. He fell to his knees in exhaustive feelings.

⭐️ It was his immortal life that granted him a second chance, he realised. What was meant to be a punishment – a curse, benefitted him greatly. You were in the future, after all. He had nothing but time. Which is how he ended up intercepting you as you stepped out into a more isolated place within Sinnoh. You had just held some sort of meeting with a descendant of his, something he cared little for. The bracelet was still with him all these years later. Volo caught your hand as he gave one of his more friendly smiles. Whatever stunned state you fell into passed quickly. The yellow agate caught the light dully as he slid it onto your wrist.

“... My, don't you look surprised?” he chuckled at your reaction to seeing him again, “I told you, didn't I? I'd meet Arceus even if it took me centuries.” His eyes met yours, feelings twisting in them plainly. It had been so long for him, yet no time for you. Unfair, he wanted to call, completely unfair. Your mind raced with so many things. It was certainly a bold move to propose so soon after re-meeting for the first time in who knew exactly how long, but he did not care. There had been more than enough time for him to reflect on his feelings.

“No matter, that's irrelevant,” he shook his head and pulled you close to him, smiling even brighter at you, “My love, let us finally be together. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of time with you.”

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ It crosses his mind at some point when he realises his age. Sure, many people hold off on marriage well into their thirties, and many people even then still opt against marriage due to how stressful it could be. Memories of attempts of arranged marriages by his parents scorn his mind. Business partners still offer their sisters and daughters to him in order to better strengthen deals and raise his status. It was after one of those particular meetings that he felt the urge to finally marry you. His plans had failed, already. There was no point in delaying things further here.

☄️ Cyrus plans a nice dinner at one of the more expensive restaurants in Jubilife, trying to set the mood more than his original plans. Mars had seen his notes about telling you plainly that he planned to merge your family registers and have you legally listed as his spouse. It seemed easier than all the elaborate bells and whistles of inviting you to marriage. A ceremony was deeply unwanted by him. He knew you would not say no, but she insisted on him being romantic and being polite to at least consider your feelings. Besides, it was not like he had parents for you to discuss this with, and yours likely would not be opposed to a marriage with him. At least, as long as they did not know of his previous plans, he supposed.

☄️ He struggled with what to do. Mars insisted he get you a gift. A ring screamed romance to her, but she suggested that he focus on something that you would like. A ring was a common choice, so he presumed it was the safest option. A bright heliodor gem with a silver band seemed pleasant enough to suffice. The clerk had ecstatically explained to him the meanings of them gem, but he cared little to recall much more than some odd association with leadership. Though, the name itself was admittedly what attracted him. Perhaps your waxing poetic about his name's meaning had unconsciously wore off on him.

☄️ It was after the dinner that he brought you out to an isolated place within the city that he took your hand within his as he turned to face you. His eyes gazed at your ring finger as thoughts rushed through his mind. He hated how breathless he felt. The thought of you both unified together made him feel strange. Feeling in general was hard for him, but the idea of finally tying himself to this world was exhausting. Your voice calling his name with a lightly concerned tone snapped him out of it. His hand fished the ring box out from his suit coat pocket.

“... I know I am not the easiest person to live with,” Cyrus began while meeting your eyes, “Every day I am eternally grateful that I have you in my life still. Your presence calms me down from the strange emotional turmoil that foolishly claims me.” He stops himself from going further. Memories of all the time you two had spent together dances behind his eyes. You were the only reason he left the Distortion World. The ring is presented by him with a desperate need to hide his shaking hands.

“Allow us to marry,” he forced down any unwanted hesitation, “I believe you are the only person I could ever wish to spend my days with.”

[nightwngz]

LIPS RED ENOUGH TO KILL A BIRD !

tim drake x fem!oc

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. . . smut. porn with plot. age gap (the original character is older for 13 years, but Tim is legal age), fem dominance, enemies to lovers, sexual tension, the original character is a villain, probably this may have a part two. Teasing, oral sex, riding, dirty talk, fingering and hair pulling.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. . . no copying of my work is allowed. Free translation is allowed as long as I am credited.

𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. . . as I said in my other posts, English is not my first language. I have tried to make corrections with the translator, but as you all know, it is prone to making mistakes, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or if anything sounds weird.

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲… I had this idea a long time ago and I want to share it with you. On the other hand, I have a few pending requests, but I'm working on all of them, so don't worry. Enjoy, and I hope you like it. 🌷

She was probably the most attractive woman he had ever met.

Don't get him wrong, he could admire the beauty of a female villain without being completely attracted to her. But he swore he had never met anyone like Adeline, known to the Gotham Mafia as "The Queen of Hearts," so fierce and domineering that she could easily take your head off.

Batman had been in contact with her since Dick Grayson was Robin, and Tim had heard stories of her iconic fame throughout his training. She was even described as a woman who used her physical attractiveness as a method of hunting and getting what she wanted.

It was just a rumor. Until Tim Drake finally met her.

She was dangerous. Neither the Falcone family, nor Maroni, nor even Two-Face dared engage in illegal activity in the territories she protected. She ran every criminal organization in Gotham, and the rest were probably just her subjects. Because of this, she has always had an extreme rivalry with Batman, as they competed to be the most feared figures in the city.

And besides, Adeline was fascinated by the hunt, but Batman would never be her prey, but unfortunately the little bird would not have the same luck as the bat.

After a period of apparent inactivity by the Queen of Hearts, during which she was actually plotting in secret, the current Robin was forced to relinquish his mantle to Damian Wayne. Now an independent vigilante, he called himself Red Robin. It was at this moment that the Queen began to play her cards again and regain her influence as the most prominent figure in Gotham's criminal underworld.

These were reasons enough for Red Robin to be forced to investigate her.

It didn't take him long to realize that she was an incredibly smart woman. She managed every part of her plan to perfection. Thanks to old files, he was even able to learn that she built her own empire all by herself, without anyone lifting a finger to help her. She had easily earned her place in Gotham's underworld.

She and her clan were a cancer that Tim Drake had to eradicate from Gotham before it was too late.

Adeline returned to her penthouse that night, and Red Robin waited for her in the shadows of her living room. The apartment was so spacious that only an incredibly paranoid person would think someone was hiding there; she was probably one of those people.

She approached the long leather sofa, her red stiletto heels echoing on the floor with each step. The room was still dark and Tim stood at the far end, admiring her curvaceous, graceful silhouette as she sat down and lit a cigarette.

— Do you smoke? — She asked, aware of the vigilante's presence.

He did not answer.

— Mm... my doctor told me to stop. But it's the only way to calm my anxiety. Strange, isn't it? How many packs of cigars does a Mafia leader have to smoke to be completely calm?

Her voice was just like her: attractive, haughty, and most of all, sharp as a razor or even a playing card.

— You killed five men on the docks last week. I want to know why — He ordered, as if she was somehow obligated to give him answers.

However, she smiled with incredible superiority. Despite the distance, Tim could tell that her lips were painted with a deep red lipstick. She had an exaggerated obsession with the color red, but he couldn't blame her, considering how good it looked on her.

— You know very well, dear little bird, that everything in this world is governed by two things — She said, and started to walk towards the standing figure of Tim, who was standing on the mat in the room. —Love and money... and believe it or not, I am very selective about the things I lend, so you can already guess what happens when someone in this city owes me money for a long time. Bills are bills, Boy Wonder.

Tim was completely silent as soon as he heard the woman say his former nickname. How could she know that he was the former Robin?

— You're wrong about the nickname, Queen. I have no relationship with Robin, let alone Batman.

She approached without taking the smile off her face for a moment. She circled the man's figure, touching his hair with her gloved hand, teasing him.

— Don't try to fool me, Red Robin. I know everything there is to know in this city, which is everything. I know about you, how you were replaced. You were neither the first nor the last Robin Batman had, with the incredibly handsome Nightwing being the first and the red-hooded mercenary the second. If you lift a stone in this city, I know it. I have informants on so many sides, you probably won't know when you meet one. So don't try to play my game with me, I made it, and that's why I always win.

Tim felt like he was being devoured by Adeline's withering gaze every second. He felt cornered, contained, disappointed that he had underestimated her and believed that she didn't know everything about him, his past and his family.

— So... you probably know that I have been investigating you. I've been watching your every move for months.

She moved closer, so close that Tim could have sworn he felt her lipstick on his ear, and whispered:

— On the rooftops, in the windows of the buildings in front of this penthouse, everywhere I go, nothing escapes me, little bird. And although I've always loved the hunt, I must admit that this cat-and-mouse game you're playing is turning me on.

He wasn't quite sure how he had left her apartment that night without being attacked by her henchmen or her guards, but even though she was aware of it, Tim continued to watch her from a distance. He came to believe that the Queen of Hearts was so used to being followed that she didn't even flinch when she learned that she was a victim of it.

She went all over the city, from that fancy bar in Chinatown to certain abandoned businesses in the Warehouse District and finally to the same address as always: her apartment on the east side of the city.

From the moment Tim saw her through the large window, sitting on her couch, he knew Adelaine was waiting for him. With those black eyes, she seemed to be inviting Red Robin to pay her a visit. And under no circumstances could Timothy Drake refuse.

Adeline was not surprised to see the black silhouette in the room again. It would be a lie to say that she had inadvertently neglected the security of her apartment; deep down, she knew that Red Robin was trained to overcome even the tightest security systems. After all, he had been trained by Batman.

— You disabled the alarms. — He said, walking slowly toward her. — Were you expecting visitors?

A mischievous smile lit her lips. He noticed that she looked even more stunning than the last time, even though she was alone in a silk robe and classic red polish on her nails, enjoying a bottle of wine. Without a doubt, she was dazzling.

— Honestly, I was just waiting for you — She admitted, leaving Tim perplexed. — Did you enjoy spying on me from the rooftops today, as usual? This time it was even adorable; no man had ever shown that level of interest in me before.

Red Robin was distracted when he noticed a brown folder on the coffee table that appeared to be a collection of files. Confidently, he picked up the folder, eager to discover its contents.

— What is this? — He asked, lifting the folder so that the distinguished woman could examine it.

— Open it and you will know. No fear, little bird.

As he opened the folder, Tim froze. It contained a detailed file on himself: Timothy Drake Wayne. The document covered his childhood, the death of his parents, his legal adoption by Bruce Wayne, his career as Robin and additional details about his current alias. Unable to react, he simply studied the contents in silence.

Tim placed the documents back on the coffee table and watched her in surprise. He had profoundly underestimated Adeline, even going so far as to think he might be able to surpass her in intelligence and strategy.

— Believe me, I was also surprised to discover that the most influential family of millionaires in the city dressed up as vigilantes and fought crime. — She confessed, her classic red lipstick smile sending shivers down the young man's spine. — Though I must admit I wasn't surprised to discover that Bruce Wayne's third son was my stalker bird, I expected nothing less from a man as formidable as he.

Slowly, she approached him and motioned for him to sit down. Tim felt himself tense, aware that Adeline knew his secret identity. Now it was up to her to decide whether or not to reveal it to the world. He was sure that Adeline would not keep such a revealing secret without getting something in return.

— What do you want from me? — He asked. He was sure that even if she revealed his identity, he would not give in to blackmail or make deals with the mafia.

— Nothing from you. — She replied, approaching him and resting her hand on his knee — What Red Robin or Tim Drake may have is of no interest or use to me. To reveal your identity would expose you to my enemies, and I do not wish to do that. There is, however, something I can offer you.

He was on the verge of despair, convinced that he would have to reject any offer she made. But Adeline was breathtaking. He couldn't help but desire her and wonder what it would be like to feel her red lips and smooth, manicured skin. Her exquisite perfume almost intoxicated him. He knew he was behaving badly and would regret it later, but he thought he should not give in under any circumstances.

The next thing he knew, she was straddling him. Despite his attempts to pull away, Tim's body would not follow the commands of his brain. Instead, she placed her hands on his bare thighs and he closed his eyes, allowing her to devour his neck, leaving marks that would probably last for days.

Her robe had slipped down, revealing red lace underwear that immediately caught Tim's attention. Accustomed to her perfectly clothed body, she looked even more sensual than usual, half naked.

— I... — He hesitated, struggling to control himself. — I shouldn't.

Adeline pulled her lips away from Tim's neck and looked up at him with her classic mischievous smile, although this time her lipstick had smudged a little.

— You shouldn't, but you want to. And we both know you won't be able to resist.

Fuck, she was right. In her presence, Tim felt himself questioning his own intelligence. For a moment he decided to let her be right. After all, as she had told him, the queen of hearts always wins at her own game.

He sealed his lips with hers in a passionate kiss, accepting that he could not resist his urges. He kissed her with the intensity of one who surrenders at the last moment, and she reciprocated with the same fervor, allowing her tongue to meet his.

Tim soon realized that she was in control of the situation. Although they were both on the bed and he was naked, she remained clothed and dominated the scene by being on top of him.

— Fuck, what a good boy — She whispered, leaning down to kiss his chest and trace the contours of his torso with her lips. Tim shivered with excitement as he felt the brush of Adeline's lips on his defined abs, and then her tongue sliding along the curve of his waist. — But too impatient, I see.

Tim quickly grabbed a pillow to cover his face and muffle his moans. At that moment, Adeline descended until she was in front of his thighs and saw his towering erection, dripping with pre-cum.

A smile lit up her face. Gently, she began to caress him, instantly sensing the pleasure Tim was getting from her caresses and the woman's graceful movements. He moaned intensely against the fabric of the pillow and moved instinctively to pull her closer.

— Fuck, fuck... — He groaned, biting his lip.

Tim looked up and watched as Adeline stroked his hair, her eyes fixed on his body. Her hands moved gently down his cock, even going so far as to gently circle the head. From her perspective, the image was stunning; she had never been with a man in his twenties who looked so incredibly attractive. Despite his disheveled hair and the beads of sweat that accentuated his toned abs, he looked magnificent.

— Fuck, baby bird, you couldn't look hotter. — She told him, leaving short kisses on both sides of his inner thighs. — I want to devour you.

Immediately, Tim brought his hands up to Adeline's hair as she worked on his erection. Through her underwear, he could see the obvious wetness that showed her arousal. Meanwhile, she watched him enjoy her action and noticed the veins in his arms stand out as he held her hair.

Although she was an expert at it, she found it difficult to get something that big into her mouth without running the risk of gagging. Although the idea turned her on, she would not allow Tim to fuck her mouth. She was in charge, so things would be done her way.

— I'm going to cum. — He moaned loudly.

Since discovering her sexual attraction, she had found that she had a weakness for male moans. Tim's moans, however, were different; they were so hot that they completely captivated her.

— Hang in there like a big boy. — She said, pulling away for a moment to look at him — You'll have to fill me up later.

Tim was overcome with despair. He didn't know how long he could keep his cock in the woman's mouth before he climaxed and spurted down her throat.

He began to recall unpleasant moments in his life, hoping to distract himself and extend the time. After barely two minutes, however, he realized that he couldn't hold out much longer and that if she was going to fuck him, she should start now.

— Fuck me now, please. — He begged, almost crying. — I don't think I can resist much longer.

She paused for a moment and pulled away to remove the rest of her clothes. Then she approached him again and straddled him.

Tim watched her and was shocked to see her naked and realize how unbelievable it was that a woman like her was with him. Especially considering that although he was of age, she probably still thought of him as a young man.

— All right, baby bird. You've done surprisingly well. And for your good fortune, I usually reward those who behave.

Without thinking too much about it, she moved gracefully on his hips, allowing him to fill her completely. In a way, it was she who was enjoying herself, moving her hips to enjoy herself and at the same time to see him enjoying as well.

Tim struggled inside, aware that she was in control, but wanting to please her at the same time. He considered sliding his fingers to her pussy, and to his relief, Adeline moved to allow his touch.

As he had suspected, she was completely wet. Her clit responded immediately to his caresses, causing her to tremble with pleasure, which made her moan softly. Meanwhile, Tim caressed her throbbing clit with his fingers while Adeline's hips continued to move on him.

— Who assured you that keeping your identity secret would be free, little bird?

[my-darling-boy]

Have you had any ✨Ghost Experiences✨ in Scotland yet? Meet any new ghosts???

Ohhhh plenty, but far too many to list without going off on a ramble haha

We’ve done many overnights in castles and old buildings up and down the UK with a team of investigators which has led to really neat experiences, some of them absolutely poignant. I think my favourite interaction has been with a sweetheart of a young seaman called William aboard the RRS Discovery docked in Dundee, also the best K2 session I’ve ever had was there. But yeah, various castles, historic buildings, manors, prisons, etc with some really fascinating results.

I do like how it’s also putting the mediumship to the test which is something I still don’t really like bringing up in general to people but I have apparently shocked investigators/employees at these places with describing events, people, and other things with detail that is not even public or only known privately by people who frequent that location. Nearly all locations I’ve never been to and make a point not to read up on them before I go, which makes these instances more compelling? I often don’t even know the significance of what I’m (sheepishly) describing only to be told I just described a specific thing that happened in a room when there’s no way I could know about said thing. One of the best instances of this was on the RRS Discovery when trailing behind the group in the lower decks, I stopped suddenly. It felt as though something SMACKED very hard and very sudden right where I was standing, someone had lost their life in this very spot. I thought with the boilers around perhaps someone had been hit somehow and died or maybe fallen from the above platform and hit their head on the metal below but was told there were no known records of someone dying in that room and that the platforms didn’t exist at the time. I was perplexed by this as I was 100% sure something had happened there but I just ignored it, maybe I was wrong. We get up to the top deck finally and are told about a boy who, in 1901, tragically fell from the crows nest and died. The investigator and I suddenly realised I had been standing directly below the spot he would have hit on the upper deck when he fell. Another would be a nice young man I’d encountered at a private castle who seemed to be wearing some sort of chainmail and white tunic, followed me around for most of the night, and at one point I picked up on a story about a strange looking gold disc with all these markings on it on the alter in the chapel which he immediately told me not to ask about and refused to elaborate more, I had no idea why he was so adamant about this. I later learned after enquiry the castle historians have documented the place being used by the Templars and it’s a private fact at this location that the Templars have buried artefacts beneath the castle they are working to recover… most notably, beneath the chapel. I’d be talking for ages if I described the other occurrences, but that’s one I’ll always remember!

All and all, I do actually recommend doing it, even if you don’t believe in the stuff, because you get entire historic locations basically all to yourself, at night, which is cooler. I once sat for nearly an hour in a 200 year old jail on the floor, in the dark, at 2 AM, just chilling. On free roam while everyone is usually at base, I’ve been able to explore places by myself, in the dark, opening doors to rooms not even shown to us, panning my torch to old paintings and artefacts in basements to attics and bedrooms and so much more. I’ve sat alone in century old ships and played sea shanties which echoed hauntingly down the passageways. Sprawled out in the pews of medieval chapels in the pitch dark, wandered dark castle corridors alone, sometimes I’ll sing out old songs and just listen to it drift out through the halls and rooms. You feel like some character in a novel, it’s quite a liminal space! Like all these places where so many other people came before you, where people lived and died, sometimes even right where you’re sitting, and you’re able to lay out on the stones in the dark with it all and just feel connected to it yk?

Anyway that still ended up being a ramble HAHA so yeah! I recommend it for both believers and those less inclined because at the end of the day, you’ve basically got several hours of private access to historical locations, at night, no tourists, and sometimes to places the public isn’t allowed at all, and hey maybe something Strange will happen while you’re alone in the darkness.

[k-s-morgan]

hello! hope you’re doing okay all things considered <3 i have a Black Butler question! (this involves manga spoilers) i was wondering what are your thoughts on the reveal that Ciel actually took the name of his brother who was killed by the cult? and do you plan on implementing this into your story? it’s strange to imagine him with a different name, but i think the parallel of both Ciel and Sebastian having ‘true names’ would be sweet! :D

Hi! Thank you!

I have a mixed opinion about the twins arc in manga. On the one hand, I feel a lot of admiration for it from a story-telling perspective. The psychological potential of it!.. The idea of our!Ciel assuming another identity, lying to everyone, having only Sebastian as his confidant, constantly striving to secure his new name and achievements, but also fighting the feeling that his brother might have been superior, that he was supposed to be the real heir - it's fascinating. Even more so when you add some guilt over what happened. And like you said, him and Sebastian both having a true and a fake name is a fantastic element that creates even more similarities between them.

On the other hand, as a reader, I just don't like twins-based plots. I also don't like when some relative presumed to be dead makes a sudden appearance and starts playing a big role in the life of the main characters. No matter how justified it is, it's something I tend to avoid in my books/movies/etc. The manga in general feels too big for me - I prefer smaller, protagonist-driven plots, which is why I love the anime so much.

As for Those Gentle Slopes, it's based on the anime, so Ciel doesn't have a brother there. His existence would have come up otherwise since it would have made a big impact on Ciel's personality, plus Sebastian would have mentioned it. So in my story, Ciel used to be a spoilt only child, darker and much more cunning than his parents gave him credit for even at that age.

[veespee]

Jeff the Killer/The Butcher of The Woods - Jeffery Thomas

hello everyone! i got the idea to do my own little remasters of creepypasta characters (yesyes i know, not very original) and I'm starting with Jeff! first of all, i'm giving credit to @freezingmcxn of course for the inspo, although i haven't read her version of Jeff, i love the fanfiction soo much.

!! CW for: mentions of animal cruelty (not detailed), violence, and scenes with murder. !!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ onto my version of him: he has changed quite a bit. first of course, i changed his last name to Thomas to differentiate him from the OG, and also his nickname is now The Butcher of the Woods due some of the photos that were captured of him (his body is muscular like a butcher's). i also decided not to make Liu his brother, and he's an only child now.

other changes include: his face is burned from gasoline now, not bleach. he didn't give himself a Glasgow smile in my version either. he still has his basic appearance (long black hair, pale skin, dark eyes, and i imagine him pretty tall and with quite some muscle).

also important: he was born in 1973 in my AU, and the incident were he got burned was in 1996, making him 23! I'll make a separate post about how he would get involved with Slenderman later, but the whole 'proxy' thing starts in 2000!

Leatherface and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre were HUGE inspirations for this (both Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt) and i also think he'd act like Bubba, not talking much and rather grunting or grumbling.

anyways, onto the story! there's a TL;DR at the end as well.

Childhood/Teen years.

Jeffery Thomas, born June 6th of 1973, grew up in a small town of Texas, and was raised by his parents, Victoria Garcia, who worked in childcare, and Sebastian Thomas, a car mechanic. Jeff showed sociopathic tendencies since he was a child. He hurt animals, and other kids his age. He also had a strange fascination with fire, his hand often covered in burns when he would steal his dad's lighter and burn himself for fun. His parents got concerned, and took him to the doctor. He was suspected to have ASPD from the age of 12, and the doctor told them he could get diagnosed at the age of 18 if the behaviour persists. He was a living nightmare, breaking things, screaming when he didn't get his way, often hitting his parents. The final straw though was when he attacked one of his neighbour's sons, a 12 year old kid, brutally punching him to the point of the kid having to go to the hospital. He didn't have much of a reason, and when he was asked why, he simply responded “He was annoying. Talked too much.” After that, his parents really considered doing something. They loved their son deeply, but this couldn't fly. Jeff went to juvy for a year, and returned just before he turned 17. He was getting worse and worse as he got older, and after he ruined his dad's car after driving home drunk, he was kicked out at 17. He didn't have where to go, and he was seething. He called and called all of the people he knew, as he wandered the streets, until one friend picked up and told him he had a cabin in the woods that his family owned, but he never wanted to use it. Jeff accepted immediately, and set out to the cabin.

The Woods.

The cabin was small, but it had the necessities. It looked abandoned, and like a hunter leaved there, with animal heads and skulls adorning the walls. He organized everything, and now he was free without his parents over his shoulder, that's what he thought at least. But now, with the opportunity to be isolated and no one else to watch, he could he as depraved as he wanted. First, he took his anger out on animals, hunting them down for food. Although, that was from the need to eat. Then, after being isolated from society for a year, he really snapped. He was angry at the world, his parents, that annoying kid that talked too much, everyone. So he started wanting to hurt people.

Robbing.

At first it was little things, walking around the forest with a knife to threaten hunters and hiker and campers to give him money. He robbed plenty of people, before he started actually hurting them. He got tired of the process, yelling at them with threats, waiting for them to find their money and give it to him, he was bored. So he started attacking immediately, grabbing them from behind and choking them, or giving them a sharp punch on the back of the head. That was only to get them passed out though, not to kill them. He had watched countless of true crime related broadcasts, the News, and even some medical shows, just to know the anatomy of a human and where he had to hit. After a while, that got boring too. He needed more adrenaline, he was a junkie.

The First Kill / Unsuccessful.

It all started when he saw a group of friends. They were out camping, and he had spotted them when he was out for a late night hunt. He watched them, hiding behind the trees. He planned an attack, and he would do it the next night. He memorized their tents, and their relationships. He even learned their names. Three girls, two guys. Names were Suzie, Nancy, Angelica, Liam and Lucas. He observed, noticing that Liam was dating Suzie, Lucas was dating Angelica, leaving Nancy single. He even overheard Suzie and Angelica gossiping, basically shit talking Nancy, calling her some nasty names. They were typical teenagers, he had hit the jackpot. The next night, at 11, he set out to find them. They were sat at the campfire, talking. He had his plan. Make noises, get the men out, and get the girls alone. So he did, he ruffled the leaves, making moves, pretending to be a bear and guiding them deep into the forest. The men left, just as he expected, trying to find the noises. The women were left there, and they were getting paranoid by every noise. Suzie was hyperventilating, and she ran to her tent. Angelica was left with Nancy, but she quickly left to comfort Suzie. That's when Jeff got his cue. He jumped out, grabbing Nancy's hair. She naturally screamed, but Jeff quickly slashed her throat. The girls could hear him from inside the tent, and they were horrified, especially Suzie. Suzie became hystetical, and she ran out of the tent. Jessica followed, trying to get Suzie back, but Jeff spotted them. He started running after them, and Suzie was running around in a panic. Jessica was the logical one, she ran towards the car. She looked inside for any weapons, there was a gun, but the car was locked, and Liam had the keys. Jessica panicked, looking around. She could hear Suzie scream, as Jeff was chasing her down, she wanted to get rid of her first since she made so much noise. Jessica spotted the gas tank next to the car, and she picked it up. Thankfully, Jessica was a smoker, and with shaking hands, she got out her matches. She started running towards the sounds of Suzie, and finally found her. She had a stab wound on her side, and Jeff was holding by the neck, almost taunting her and just watching the wound, letting her feel the pain. With her blood boiling, Jessica threw the gasoline on him. Jeff turned around, letting out a gruff huff. He let Suzie go and she hit the ground, while Jeff charged at Jessica. Jessica fumbled with the matches, managing to light one just as Jeff grabbed her, and she lit him on fire. The gasoline had hit his back and the back of his hair, so the fire spread all over his clothes. Jeff let out a bloodcurdling scream, even dropping his knife to the ground. He viscously glared at the girls with his blurry vision, before he started to run away. Just then, the boys returned, looking in shock at the scene of Suzie stabbed on the ground, although alive, and Jessica frozen in shock.

The Aftermath.

Jeff run with all the energy he had, reaching the nearby river. He fell in, the fire calming down and disappearing. He was still in immense pain, but at least he wasn't on fire. He stayed in the water for a long time, clutching on some rocks for balance. Afterwards, he finally lifted himself up, heading towards the cabin with a limp. He grumbled under his breath the entire way, angry that he didn't get the kills he wanted, and that he was literally outsmarted by some teens. When he reached his cabin, he headed immediately to the bathroom to change. That's when he saw himself in the mirror, his face was burned all from his chin to his upper cheek. He stared at himself, not knowing what to think. He looked horrifying, and when he touched his skin, it felt leathery. Some of his hair had fallen off, leaving thin strands of his long black hair. He stared and stared, before deciding he couldn't care less about his appearance, and went into the shower.

He continued killing, his victims having his burned face and big structure burned into their minds. When the news spread about missing people in the forest, and the rumours started, he was finally dubbed as 'The Butcher of the Woods'.

——————————————————————————————————

okay that's it :3 okay i know this is a lot, and this isn't even half of it 😭 but yeah, if anyone is interested, I'll maybe get more into the details! my asks are open and feel free to ask any questions. 🖤

a TL;DR for anyone that's too lazy to read (valid tbh):

My version of Jeff was a sociopath since he was a young child. He had symptoms such as hurting small animals, or kids that were younger than him. He'd target and pick things that were weaker and smaller to give himself a power trip. At the age of 16 he assaulted his neighbour's son, who was about 12, punching him repeatedly while the kid was on the ground. That incident sent Jeff to juvy for a year. He came back when he turned 17, and his parents tried to see if he got better. Instead though, Jeff crashed his dad's car after driving drunk, and his parents finally snapped and kicked him out of the house. Jeff didn't have where to go, but one of his friends let him stay at a cabin in the woods that he owned but didn't want to use.

In the woods, Jeff would rob campers, hikers, hunters, anyone he could find. He would also hunt and kill animals to eat. But after a while, he got bored, and he wanted blood, human blood. While wandering, Jeff found a couple of teen campers, three girls and two guys. After watching them and observing their personalities, Jeff roughed up a plan. He lured the guys away, leaving the girls alone. He managed to kill one of the girls via slashing her throat, and the other two started running. He gave chase, managing to stab one of them. But while he was distracted with the chasing, the other girl found the gasoline they used for their car. She threw the gasoline on Jeff while he was busy trying to kill the other girl, and it his back and hair. When he tried to attack the girl with the gasoline, she quickly lit a match, setting him on fire. With that, Jeff angrily fled to the river nearby, jumping in. The fire goes out and he let the water run over him for a bit, before going back to his cabin.

When he goes to his bathroom to take a shower, he's met with his new face, burned and red. His long black hair had become thinner, some falling in his hand. But of course, he couldn't care less about appearances, so he took his shower. He continued killing, being dubbed 'The Butcher of the Woods'.

[anomalymon]

[Essay] MissingNo Therian: An Exploration in Identity, Labels, and the Fictotherian Experience

We've seen a few posts of people wanting more personal essays in the community, so I thought I would write this and crosspost it to Tumblr. -Rex

I am a MissingNo. My exact form is one that's been fluid throughout my life, with Kabutops and Aerodactyl fossil forms having preference, but occasionally switching to the Lavender Town Ghost. I identify as a Pokemon therian or Poketherian for my species - or fictotherian for a broad term. This identification is one which can confuse people - after all, therianthropy is more traditionally associated with animals, and I identify as Pokemon that isn't real. My species only exists in four games that are well over two decades old and is a failsafe the game spits out. Why should I identify as a therian? Despite how strange it can seem, I still prefer therian over other labels such as otherkin and fictionkin. My therian identity is deeply intertwined with my hyperempathy, created by a bias of my animality, comes from viewing a MissingNo as a type of animal, and from experiencing common therian traits.

Therian over otherkin, fictionkin, or fictive

Some may be saying "why don't you call yourself fictionkin?" or even "Isn't otherkin for mythical species, while therian is for earthen species?" To address the later point, there have been better written essays dispelling this. I would highly recommend Therian: Dispelling the Earthen Animal Myth by The River System for a well written and researched essay.

To address the former point, it is personal preference. I did use "otherkin" for years and still do identify as both otherkin and fictionkin, but the term "therian" is more in alignment to how I experience identity. I am an animal, I experience shifts, and I experience instincts.

I don't perceive MissingNo as sapient on the level of elves or some dragons. For me, being a MissingNo is also a "real" thing, as tangible as a dog, bird, or dragon. I don't consider myself glitchkin despite being a glitch, nor conceptkin. I am like the theriomythics who label themselves for being an animalstic gryphon or phoenix.

When it comes Fictionkin and fictive, to me they can be too focused on identifying yourself in the framework of being a character, which I'm not. I'm not a creepypasta character anymore than one of the Hypno species would be. I still do identify as fictional - I can comfortably identify as "fictherian" or my preference "fictotherian" (Which comes from "fictotype". I believe I started this term usage - since when I started using it, I could find no results to it, but I did use it in forum posts, Discord servers, and other methods).

Fictive falls under a similar problem - but with slightly more alienation. While the term is open to me, my identity history makes me feel out of place in a community of walk-ins and introjects when it was one that developed later in life.

How I became a MissingNo and the grip of hyperempathy

My identity as a MissingNo came later in life. I began existing in my system as a canine pup - which I know from behaviors and mannerisms that I later connected to me in the present, and genuinely expressing feeling like a dog as a child. Years later, I identified this species as a manned wolf.

Then at around the age of ten, my identity shifted to a glitch Pokemon. What at least contributed to it was developing a special interest in Glitch Pokemon around this time. This combined with our natural hyper-empathy and perhaps being conceptum to subconsciously alter my identity over time.

These interpretations can cause me to be out of place. While I still love glitch Pokemon and I am fascinated by them, I rarely find anyone who also has an intense interest and fascination while having this level of hyperempathy - even if I encounter others who have some alterhuman or even gender or sexuality connection to glitch Pokemon. Almost uncontrollably do I see glitch Pokemon as genuine Pokemon. I might grow attached to certain Pokemon in the way I would a pet.

The overall psychological influence means that this identity comes down to personal interpretations and personification. I'm not a natural animal and you cannot read about me in a textbook or find any bits of lore within the games, but rather, I am an animal that came from the mind of a mentally ill person.

MissingNo the animal

What defines "animal" varies. Humans are biologically animals and primates, but not all humans identify with those terms, with some taking offense to it. To someone with hyperempathy, a stuffed animal may be as much of an animal as a living one, or even a car might be a type of animal to certain minds. This connection is what makes me feel a MissingNo can be a type of animal.

Additionally, Pokemon are their world's equivalent of animals, and this is how most of my system views Pokemon due to one of our deepest parallel life connections being a humanlike Mewtwo. This sentiment is also one I've seen many Poketherians have. In the world of our origin, we are animals. For another essay on a similar experience, I'd highly recommend "The Fire Burns Bright" by Jasper, an Alolan Marrowak therian.

Within the contexts of the games and many interpretations - including my own - MissingNo is also a bird. It is one of few Pokemon which use this glitch beta typing. Being a bird can be equally as much a part of it and I'd consider birds as a paralleltype and one where I may confidently call myself a bird. Albeit a very odd bird.

The wolf and animal bias in my core

In addition to the bird of the MissingNo, the manned wolf at my heart is still important to my identity. It's in between otherhearted and therian on a sliding scale, and I identify it more as manned wolf-hearted for convenience, but it's closer to "kinth". I don't know why I am or was a manned wolf, but it doesn't quite matter to me either way. What matters is that there is the manned wolf.

To me it feels as if despite my core being or "soul", my mind became a MissingNo while the core remained the same. To my soul, a MissingNo is a type of dog. Then, to my mind, a manned wolf is a type of Pokemon. Both of these identities came about and exist in harmony rather than opposition.

Another comparison that the heart and soul makes is being "feral". Glitch entities in video games to me are almost like an animal which can't be domesticated. They may act fine, but every so often you'll encounter something that reminds you that at their core, they're wild. MissingNo still scrambles sprites and Hall of Fame data - and you can't have a "normal" experience with it. MissingNo is to Pokemon as a wolf is to a dog.

The instincts that made me tear apart playsets when playing house pretending to be a dog are still present in the instincts that make me want to tear apart meat when I eat it.

The Experience of a MissingNo Animal

I fit into many traditional therianthropy experiences and unto a hybrid canine/avian experience - just perhaps with more twists towards the bizarre.

I am a contherian when it comes to mental shifting and almost always feeling like an animal. However, I do experience phantom shifts. I get the sensations of skeletal fangs, claws, and a body that's far heavier and taller than my tiny, human form. Though the bizarre comes when during these shifts, I don't feel like I have skin and much of my body feels transparent, I feel like I should be able to stick my hand through my lower jaw.

I feel the sense of freedom and flight when I ride a bike downhill. For a few minutes when I bike, I can imagine myself flying. I sit in rivers and ponds among the wading birds feeling like I belong. I treat the chicks and chickens we raise like a part of my flock.

I still want to hunt. Sometimes I need to fight my instincts to recognize chicks as flockmates and not food. I like to eat wildly and I like to taste blood and fat in my food. When I eat, I feel like like the blood should dribble through my skinless jaw bone. Skeletal claws should be typing this essay instead of fleshy human fingers.

Conclusion

I am an animal, and despite doubts, I am a therian.

This label fits my experiences better than the alternatives. I don't feel as much alienation or out of place compared to other communities even though my species isn't an "animal" in the traditional sense. Hyperempathy has created this experience for me in that I feel more comfortable saying I am an animal than I am from fiction.

My center being is animal and always has been, it's just how its presented through my life has shifted. The animal instincts have only developed as my species has.

It is my hope that more unusual therians might come forth and be encouraged to examine their experiences - and for both earthen therians and potential theriomythics or fictotherians to explore what exactly "animal" means to them. I want others to also examine where their mind's biases may lead them, how that can impact their identity, and use it to feel more at peace in what the heart wants.

[starry-bi-sky]

on my bi--. .. tri-- quad-annual rewatch of Minecraft Diaries and I am never failed to be reminded that despite everything we know about the characters, we still don't know jack shit about them. It's fascinating.

Like what even is Kiki's first name? Because it's not Kiki! That's a nickname because of her laugh. We never learn her real name.

What the fuck happened to Cadenza's original village? I always assumed/was implied that it was burned down by shadow knights, but then later on its revealed that shadow knights didn't start appearing until after Malik and a few other lords opened a portal into the nether. Well long after Cadenza was found.

Speaking of, what happened to Laurance's family? Iirc, he was taken in by Joh as an orphan and this is never really extrapolated on???

Semi-unrelated but I always wondered why the guards never suspected Aphmau of having something to do with the Lord's death because it was implied to have been very recent prior to her arrival (and backed up with Levin's apparent age/still being in infancy) and Aphmau's sudden strange arrival and immediate 'oh i can be the new lord' shtick. But yk they probably forgot most of the accident/assumed the fire was an accident rather than a deliberate murder attempt + other stuff.

[tenjiiku]

21 : only

The chime of the shop rings with prominence. You already know who it is without lifting your gaze from your newspaper.

“Darling, love of my life, fire of my heart,” The man sings — an annoying, sickly sweet tone — his volume increasing as he glides his way to the front reception desk, “The machine is broken again.”

You cough, adjusting your newspaper. He is so abnormally tall his hair is all you can see from your periphery. Why he presents himself in such a way you never want to know.

“Then go to another laundromat,” you murmur quickly. You have grown accustomed to dismissing his outlandish behaviour. It is a second instinct at this point.

“Nah. I wouldn’t receive such service anywhere else — you are special, you know? One of a kind.”

You choke a little at his hoax of his compliment, “You make me sick.”

A large hand puts your newspaper down. You allow it, only because you wanted this interaction to end. Even seated on a swivel chair, elevated to its highest position, you have to crane your head a little to meet him in the eye. You see yourself in the reflection of the dark glasses he cunningly chooses to wear inside.

When you scowl he returns it with a cheshire grin.

“Thank you. You’re too sweet.”

“What do you want, Satoru?” You do not use his last name or any honorific to address him despite his age. He was older than you by a few years — but certainly did not act the part — so you do not think he deserves your respect. Your host father told you he does — something about his being from a prominent private school as an educator, which you cannot possibly fathom being the truth. But only in front of you is Satoru Gojo an inane, odd man with a need for clean, dry-cleaned clothes that, for some strange reason he has conjectured in his equally baffling mind, only you can provide.

“You.”

The wrinkle that had formed between your brows drops in less than a second. This was the typical routine. You would get annoyed — and he would get a sick kick from that. You refused to be his entertainment, so, for once you decide to be the bigger person.

“My friend is a police officer. He is five minutes away,” you retort, not being the bigger person. Though actions did speak louder than words.

Satoru places his elbow on the desk. He has to bend his back in an uncomfortable manner to do so — and he leans his face on his palm which only makes the position and his stature appear more cretinous and acute.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry, do you know?”

“Go die.” (You are being a bigger person today only through your actions. Not your words, you quickly decide.)

“Can you let me buy you a coffee? Put me out of my misery?”

“Leave me alone. I will scream for A-chan.” (Your dog, sleeping peacefully somewhere in a corner near the dryers.)

“Awh,” he coos, tilting his head only more. You wonder if he has back problems. “That’s vulgar. I thought you were a good girl.”

At this, you flounder. Fisting your hands together, you rub at your forehead. Satoru possessed the putrid ability to irk you like no other. You look down at your textbook — you were on chapter five, studying deadlock before he came — and it was certainly fitting given his arrival.

“I am. For people I can tolerate.” You retort, monotone to not please his sadism.

He smiles anyways and leans forward, gazing towards where you look — a few sheets of loose-leaf paper with your begrimed writing. You can catch a glimpse of his azure coloured eyes through his lashes from this angle. At first they scared you. It was an utter oddity to you — you had seen nothing as strange from all your years tending to this run-down laundromat. People who came and went were not as nearly as fascinating as Satoru Gojo’s eye colour, unfortunately, but that was not to say they were not as interesting. Odd characters entered every now and then considering your laundromat being less than 5 metres away from a graveyard — which only begged the existence of Satoru all together.

Perhaps he was visiting someone every time he came. You liked to make stories of customers who you would encounter. That was Satoru���s because you could not think of anything else.

You never asked, he never said. This was how it went.

“What’s all this?” He questions, his tone softer than usual. You feel his eyes travel to your right shoulder, making you self-conscious.

For a second you think he knows of the pain you have been feeling there.

You shake your head of the plausibility.

“Homework,” you reply, curt and straight, adjusting your posture in your seat as a sudden wave of bashfulness has overcome you.

“For what?”

“My operating systems class.”

Satoru coos — treating you like you are some sort of stray cat when he is the one encroaching on your property. “Sounds hard. You’re real smart, then?”

You look up, mouth falling into a line as you mumble a small, “Yeah.”

You want this conversation to come to an end. But Satoru liked to season his prey and you were not an exception. You remember encountering one of his students once — you think their name was Megumi — who had told you to steer clear of Satoru if you wanted your sanity to remain intact. It was solid advice, the only possibility it did not cover was Satoru forcing himself in front of you no matter what turn you took.

“You have to give me something to work with here,” he moans dramatically.

You take some money from the tip jar and hold it out in front of him as an incentive.

“I’ll pay you ¥800 to leave me alone?”

Satoru takes the money, but he doesn’t leave.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” He sneers at you. You crack your shoulders and decide to get started on the problem at hand because at this rate you will never finish your homework.

Walking towards the washers, you start speaking, not looking behind you to see if he is following because you already know he is.

“I don’t have time for this. Which machine isn’t operating?”

For once in his life, maybe out of the glory that overcame him from getting the upper hand on you once again, he complies.

“Third washer on the left, near the door.”

You walk towards it. Satoru stands next to you. His clothes float in a puddle that has formed within the washer — a drainage problem. Taking his clothes out of it, you rinse the soaked water in the sink and place them in another washer. If he chose to use half his brain he could have solved this himself. But after observing his smiles from your periphery and through the reflection of the glass door you come to realize he is enjoying himself.

An hour comes and go. Satoru talks your ear off at the reception even as others come and go. He puts his wet clothes in the dryer and folds them when they are finished, into a duffel bag.

When he stands in front of you, silent for the first time since his arrival, you know he is about to leave. You always give him a nice goodbye.

“Time for your weekly departure? Please do not bring clothes stained with blood to be dry cleaned next time. Mother almost fainted last week and is growing suspicious.”

Satoru smiles at you which lets you know that he understands your joke. He is handsome but he is nothing of your world, you realize. He only ever exists within the four wall of your parent’s laundromat and will only ever smell of floral detergent. It was better this way, you think.

“Awh. You’re worried for me?”

Your lips lay flat and you look down at your textbook.

“Have a nice day as well,” he murmurs, low. It catches you by surprise. When you lift your head up, he is already gone.

The pain on your right shoulder has stopped when the chime of the door opening and closing rings.

You pretend to ignore it — the feeling of his eyes and the growing aches surfacing within you — and go back to studying.

.

Satoru waits five minutes after he has left you to acknowledge his student following him. He stops near the abandoned phone booth he had found you sulking in two weeks prior — curled up with your legs tucked to your chest — pondering on about nonsensical things.

It was not the worst of the side effects you possessed after leaving your clan years ago and starting a new life with the Kobayashi’s at their laundromat.

“Megumi-chan, care to join me?”

He smiles when he sees his student scowl at him and he only continues to walk as he catches up.

“Why do you insist on pestering her? You know she will never remember. Yaga-san will be mad,” his student asserts after meeting his shoulders

Satoru does not answer right away. He recalls a fragment of a memory from his childhood. He had been doted on since his birth. You were a refreshing rarity, always hoping for a life greater than the one you were subjugated to — the daughter of a lowly maid, a normal girl for all purposes yet never treated as such. He remembers a small conversation you shared for less than a minute when he was only eight years old and you were five — how one day you wanted to be able to go to Hokkaido for the ice sculpture festival during the Winter. It was such a naive thing to aspire for. A cruel irony, really, that you still remained the same after so many years.

A snowflake falls towards Satoru’s shoe, but never quite graces its body.

Slinging an arm around his student, he answers brazenly, “I don’t know. I suppose I’m bored these days. Entertain me.”

[hfjonewiki]

Hi! I hope this isn't a strange thing to ask but could you tell me more about ii-critical? I'm writing a research paper on the ii community and I wanna gain more insight to what that part of the fandom was all about.

My main questions are: Why did it exist? Why were you apart of it? What were the posts like? What was the biggest drama? Hell, what platform was it even on??

I wasn't that deep in the OSC when it was up and running (only really got into the community in ~2018) so a lot of community context from that era is lost on me. If you have any other object show oldhead insight for ii you wanna share, please do! I find fandom fascinating and would love to here more stories.

hoooo boy...... cracks knuckles. i went over it a little bit in a previous post but i'll try and give more info this time

(also this should go without saying but please don't try and seek out anyone mentioned or involved its been like 6-7 years since all this happened. also most of us were mentally unstable teenagers hence the. everything)

ii-critical originated as a tumblr blog created by someone named mira (i have no idea if they still go by mira or what their pronouns are now. i'm just gonna stick to they/them for convenience) as a way for them to discuss their criticisms towards the show's writing. the blog was created in mid-to-late 2017, during a time period where "(media) critical" was becoming a common tag. the trend was started by "su critical", a tag created by steven universe fans to discuss the show's faults in response to the show being in a rut of making some VERY dubious decisions (i believe it was started around bismuth's introduction, which was heavily criticized at the time for MANY reasons). the "critical" tags were often created for fandoms who tended to be hostile towards criticism of the media they were based around. the inanimate insanity fandom didn't really have that issue, thankfully. and so, the blog "ii-critical" was born.

at the beginning, the posts were about mira going through an episode beat by beat, and pointing out things they both liked and disliked about it. occasionally, there were posts analyzing a specific character. i'm kind of speeding through the "what were the posts like" section because that is by far the LEAST interesting part of the ii-critical mythos

i found the blog very shortly after its creation. it caught me at a good time, because i was at a point where i was becoming disillusioned with the show (episode 11 was the most recent episode at this point, and i really disliked it due to it being at the peak of ii's melodrama era. the show just felt miserable to watch. s2e11 sucking butt is still an opinion i stand by today Lolzor). mira and i started talking and i was brought on as the blog's other moderator, and i wrote my own analysis posts.

the blog was decently successful and didn't actually get that much hate. most people agreed with our criticisms and were, like, normal about the concept of a thing they liked being flawed. at some point we had a decent amount of followers and made the ill-fated decision to create a discord server for the blog. for added context: at the time of the server's creation, mira was 13, and i was 14. we were NOT old enough to be running a public discord server that at least 50+ people ended up joining.

the server had a lot of problems, mainly in regards to the channels. since we were both at the age where you are hormonal and stupid, we decided to make the nsfw channel accessible to everyone, and didn't even ask for people to include their ages in their intros. a concerning amount of people assumed that mira and i were both adults, or at least older teens until we said otherwise. we also had a blacklist and vent channel, which, word of advice, you should NOT have in a public server. shit gets out of hand SO fast. i vividly remember there being at least one guy who posted in the vent channel on a near-daily basis about pretty serious stuff. trust me when i say that people shared some HORRIFIC information in there. also, we had an emoji that was just a drawing of donut from bfdi with his whole cock and balls hanging out because we thought it was funny. i'm pretty sure there wasn't a "please don't post the donut balls emoji in non-nsfw channels" rule anywhere either.

i could go into more detail about various happenings, but that delves too deeply into interpersonal drama that frankly has no business being shared publicly. one of the most concerning things that happened, however, was this one guy who would come in vc, barely say anything, and fuck around with his gun the whole time. and yes, you could hear it. eventually we got reports of him being predatory towards a younger member of the server, and he was banned. i think that was the first thing that made mira and i go, "oh, we might've fucked up". there was also another incident where somebody was leaking information from inside the server (yet another reason why the vent channel was a HORRIBLE idea), and we banned a bunch of inactive people until eventually realizing somebody had stolen the username and pfp of a real user and impersonated them to stay in the server. this whole ordeal lasted like, two weeks. and again!! we were just BARELY no longer preteens at this point!! and we still thought, yeah, we can handle this. we're super capable. at one point we hired two other moderators (one of whom was 14-15, and the other was an actual adult for once. having an adult moderator led to us FINALLY locking the nsfw channel off to minors, since we had somebody who could moderate it for us), but this was towards the end so most of the damage had already been done

i was removed as a moderator on the blog after a large amount of interpersonal nonsense that, again, i'm not going to get into. it was mainly just because i was spending too much time in the server instead of posting on the blog like i was supposed to. a couple weeks later, i was suddenly banned from the server and mira had blocked me on everything. again, interpersonal nonsense and both of us being mentally unstable, not anyone's business. we reconciled a few months after and both apologized for being dumbasses, so we at least ended things on better terms.

another notable thing is that sometimes, crew members would pop in and out of the server, and they were surprisingly chill about the blog's existence. it was mainly justin and sam from what i remember, and resulted in this legendary image:

i don't remember this bit, but at some point taylor may have responded to one of our posts and was Not Nice about it? again, i don't remember this, take it with a grain of salt. but knowing his history with getting into shit with fans for no reason and how it got to the point where it was cited as a reason he was removed from the team, yeah that tracks

talking about ii-critical is strange, because i don't know where to draw the line between "infamous blog from the early days of the tumblr osc", "stupid pointless infighting between teenagers", and "genuinely horrible decisions and moderation that caused real damage". i'm trying to stick to just the first one and giving info about the last one when necessary. i'm aware a lot of this is gonna paint my past self in a VERY unflattering light, but that's who i was and what i did when i was 14 and i just have to accept that.

ii-critical was just a facet of the tumblr osc circa 2017. a lot of what happened can be traced back to larger issues with the fandom, especially when it came to restrictions on nsfw content. remember, this is pre-tumblr porn ban. i knew an ALARMING amount of people who had nsfw blogs, and even posted nsfw art while they were minors. i don't wanna seem like i'm making excuses for fucking up when it came to moderation and keeping our members safe, but it's important to know that the blog and server were very much a product of a specific point in tumblr history. we saw minors casually posting nsfw on a regular basis and thought, "yeah, it should be fine to have the nsfw channel open to everyone, right?" and like i said, we didn't originally require ages upon introduction. people didn't realize how badly we'd fucked up until the damage had already been done.

i could go on about the dozens of other ways i fucked up, but that would start to dive into the interpersonal side of things. i think i covered everything that actually mattered. i don't plan on talking about ii-critical to this extent again any time soon. everyone who both ran and was part of the blog and server have moved on, i don't wanna keep dragging people back to what's probably a very unpleasant period of their lives.

that said, if prompted, i will talk about the 2012-2014 deviantart era + "dark ages" of the osc AT LENGTH if prompted. i swear i have wisdom beyond the shitty blog i ran with my friends as a teenager. you dont even know about the Ball OC Discourse