#What Happened...? (Corrupted Demon)

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

I love Varric. I do. But I just finished Cole’s personal quest and I’ve never wanted to grab that glowing stone off Solas’ desk and SMACK A GUY SO HARD!

Solas is trying SO HARD to help Cole maintain who he is and Varric is trying SO HARD to make Cole change. And even after hearing how Compassion became Cole, he still wants it! Varric, sweetie, becoming the form of a young man who starved to death IS NOT HOW YOU WANT TO BECOME A PERSON.

And he never tries to understand. Cole is furious and wants to kill the guy, yes, but HE IS COMPASSION NOT VENGEANCE!! Varric just “could’ve been a person :(“. Dude, no offense, but it’s not about you. And you’re not even trying to grasp what it really is about.

Also, just how hard Solas is working to keep Cole from following his own footsteps. It’s heartbreaking. And the way Cole says his chains are gone, he’s free… Solas even sounds like he’s about to cry a time or two. Just being able to keep one of his kin, basically, from this.

And seeing the Inquisitor, at least Ar’Sulahn, immediately grasp that Cole isn’t a person in the sense that he’s LIKE people in nature. He isn’t. He’s a Spirit. He must be handled differently. I noticed that Ar’Sulahn won no approval points with Solas; she’s maxed them out.

That man is so in love with her at this point that he couldn’t undo it if he tried. Everything he hoped for in Mythal is now embodied in this woman and she is so very unaware of how incredible she is. They’re in a lull now when all the kisses are over except the last one. The end is all of their romance that I’ve yet to reach. But I have to think that this portion of time was when the intimacy they did share began.

Ar’Sulahn left Solas a little note that if he wanted a softer bed, her’s was large enough for two. And when he came up to sleep, she didn’t do anything but tell him goodnight. Not so much as a touch. Until she found herself wrapped up in his arms and held to his chest. Because after all this, after seeing her with Cole and watching her advocate for his ability to be who and what he is, after the respect and aid she tried to give Wisdom, her promises and decisions to protect him, and her constant kindness, that man can’t stand it. They may remain at arm’s length in public, but in private Solas is going to hold her as tightly as he can.

Up until that moment of panic in Crestwood, he was going to tell her. That was where he was aiming. This portion of time in DAI should be one of sliding further down that slope to confession because it was exactly what was going to happen in Solas’ plans.

Until it wasn’t.

[l3viat8an]

Simon corruption this, Simon corruption that. You know what I want? A MC who used to believe heavily in their Christian faith, only to be corrupted by the demon brothers.

Like?? They get to experience all the things they couldn’t before?? And they just think ‘huh, I should’ve sinned earlier in my life’

I feel like everybody talks about the brothers corrupting MC at some point- but since you’ve brought up the topic!!- 

MC is dealing with demons after all, it’s in their natural to try and corrupt humans! Even better if the human came to them, still fully believing in their religion being right.

And the best part for the demon brothers is the fact they can treat this like a game! Who can make you indulge in his sin the most?- after all it’s no fun to work together in corrupting the new human, not when he could push and spend time with them alone to make sure MC indulges in the right sin.

Like with Lucifer; pride is a wonderful feeling, at first. Even if MC has none he’ll help them find something about themselves to take pride in. Maybe they’re really good in class or maybe a really good cook. Whatever it is he’ll explain how good they are at it, how they should take pride in their talent, build them up and watch them bask in his sin.

Or Levi; everyone is envious of someone else. What’d even better if if you’re envious of him!!! Maybe he has a really rare anime figure or something in his collection that MC wants I couldn’t think of many reasons to be jealous of Levi tbh- No matter what it is, Levi can find out and he’ll bring it up whenever he can. Reminding MC about it and getting to be right there when that nasty little feeling sets in.

Asmo; is one of the most dangerous with his sin because he’s so open about wanting MC to indulge it in…..Indulge in him. After all, lust can feel so good!! MC just has to let him guild them~ show them the best ways to let lust consume them~ he makes such sweet promises of how good he can make them feel, and all the fun they’ll have together!! It’s almost too easy to charm them with all his sweet words, he doesn’t even need magic.

[t4tharuspex]

if a person can become a demon why can a person not become an angel what do u think humans are inherently evil do u think that given free will man will universally tend toward selfishness and malice oh my godddd you’re so wrong and boring oh my goddddd

[fuckedprophet]

It’s the way I know Dallas would be a druid. It’s the way I know he doesn’t seem it, he reads warlock — but he’s a fuckin druid if there ever was one with a barbarian secondary.

[mysoulspiralbound]

it whitens your hair this explains so much about gideon

why didn’t we get to see ford in his evil warlock era

[mindsafe]

[PHONE] Just as the sender is about to kiss the receiver, the sender's phone rings loudly, causing them to jump back. marlo and hitch sdfg

@pontevoix || from [X] || ACCEPTING

it had been her idea, initially. hitch insisted that marlo should loosen up && try to ❛ not be so damn boring all the time ❜. he rolled his eyes at her then, politely declining her invitations to the various social events on && off campus; but he conceded to a final proposal of a ❛ movie-date-that's-absolutely-not-an-actual-date ❜. they agreed on his place, for saturday night. she had gone ahead && picked the movie: SPIRITED AWAY // marlo had gone ahead && made dinner ( she didn't know he could cook ).

it was fun.

that surprised her. what surprised her even more was when marlo suggested that they do it again. . .

it became something customary. on saturdays, she would saunter over to marlo's && make herself at home. they decided to take turns picking the movie. they wanted different things. hitch liked glamour, camp, romance, && happy endings // marlo liked the classics ( good && bad ) regardless of how they ended. sometimes, they would argue over petty things. marlo talks too much, && she had to resist the urge to clamp a hand over his mouth multiple times during THE PRINCESS BRIDE // whereas hitch made the mistake of falling asleep during THE GODFATHER, && accidentally getting drool on the couch ( marlo took more offence to the former ).

but it was always fun.

the titular song plays, as credits roll onscreen in a soft shade of pink ( her favourite colour ). she's curled up, cat-like, in the velvety arm of his sofa && shifts her weight against the abundance of decorative pillows -- some stolen from the other's side. marlo seems equally content, despite his own lack of pillows. he's been unusually quiet for some time now.

❝ you know, someday i want a pretty red cocktail dress just like the one in the movie... what do you think? actually, don't answer that. you probably don't know anything about women's fashion. you hardly know anything about women. ❞

she expects a comeback of sorts; when hitch peers over her shoulder, marlo is watching her with an unreadable expression. had she unintentionally offended him?

❝ hey, hey, i was joking! if anything, you seem like the type of guy who would also buy a girl everything on the menu if he didn't know what she liked! ❞

he continues to study her, with a growing intensity. did she somehow make it even worse? music fades into a slow ballad; a stark contrast to the tempo of her heart. hitch doesn't know how or when her lips part ( a gentle invitation ) but they do. maybe they don't always want different things. her eyes close. she can feel the other's warm breath on her face... && then just like that, the moment is gone.

hitch is almost certain that marlo never changed his default ringtone; it's loud ( && painfully annoying ). embarrassment creeps up on her, heating her face && staining her cheeks. she looks away.

❝ what the hell! i thought you always kept your phone on silent! i guess you'd better answer it... ❞ she huffs.

[fairsweetlonging]

svsss au where shen qingqiu can't go through with the endless abyss quest, and is just staring at binghe's tear-streaked face, listening to him rambling through excuses and apologies, not saying anything himself. he can't make himself do it, and prepares himself to die, but since the quest must be completed, the world bends to fulfill it, accidentally throwing both luo binghe and shen qingqiu into the abyss.

the stress of it causes shen qingqiu to have a qi deviation, and together with the sheer absolute force of demonic qi slamming into him from the abyss, he's out before he even hits the ground.

since the evil speech didn't take place and shen qingqiu never did anything except stare at luo binghe with an inexplicable look of resignation on his face, luo binghe is hopeful that it's not too late, and he does everything he can to drag his shizun to a "safe" place once they're in the abyss. now, luo binghe doesn't just have himself to save, but his shizun as well, and the force of his determination activates his full protagonist aura (aka binghe is planning to x2 speedrun this thing).

when shen qingqiu wakes up again and finds that he's completed the abyss quest, he doesn't waste a second before comforting his little demon lamb and assuring him this changes nothing, and binghe isn't evil for being a demon.

shizun's words give binghe the additional motivation boost he needs to start tearing through the abyss to find a way out, and though the abyss is horrible and all-consuming, it isn't as bad now that shizun is here to treat his wounds and comfort him and give him loads of information that, by all means, shizun shouldn't have known about, but he does, somehow, and it makes binghe's travels infinitely easier (and also avoids loads of wife plots shen yuan never liked).

they aren't going as fast as shen qingqiu would have liked, he isn't going as fast, he can barely breathe down here and his qi is like a beacon to abyssal creatures, only barely hidden because of without-a-cure, and he's trying to tell binghe everything he knows as soon as possible, to give him everything he needs to get out of the abyss by himself, because shen qingqiu knows he won't make it that far.

the abyss isn't made for him, both narratively and literally, he can't survive here, it's a miracle he even survived the initial drop. he can't bear to tell binghe, but he knows, and meng mo seems to know too, when he visits shen qingqiu in a dream to ask him how he's going to break it to the boy. shen qingqiu has no answer. the plot has been thrown completely off, and for the first time shen qingqiu is at a complete loss. he was never supposed to be here, and luo binghe was supposed to kill him after getting out, what will happen to the plot now?

of course binghe notices, eventually, that shen qingqiu is slowly getting poisoned by the abyss, and that shizun's surplus of doting isn't just to show acceptance, it's to say goodbye.

and shen qingqiu does die in the abyss, after little more than a year. it isn't even a beast or a plant or the acid lava boiling ground that kills him, nothing binghe could have fought or prevented. one day, after resting in a hidden shelter, shen qingqiu simply doesn't get up. his qi has been entirely corrupted, his meridians torn beyond repair, and he's gasping for breath between every bit of information that he tries to make a sobbing luo binghe remember. shen qingqiu has never seen binghe as devastated and lost as he does now, and it's horrible, but he can't do anything about it. the mushroom body isn't ready yet, he holds out no hope for that.

since luo binghe is the protagonist, shen qingqiu is determined to make sure binghe grows stronger from this all and continues his path to becoming powerful and heroic, basically making it his dying wish.

shen qingqiu dies, and his soul is transported to the mushroom body, but it takes years for it to fully develop, and binghe is convinced shen qingqiu is dead.

like in svsss he gets into a war with cang qiong about shen qingqiu's body, because binghe still tries to bring shen qingqiu back.

seven years later, shen qingqiu digs his way out of a grave and, because there is no bad blood between him and binghe this time, immediately goes to cang qiong sect, covered in dirt, and asks what he missed.

[edwinisms]

op this is how you make a lich. what have you done

This may be too supernatural for an actually pretty down to earth show that is dbda (when it comes to magic, abilities and power scaling), but I'd have a blast seeing the plot point of Edwin's soul's capability to be used for obtaining magical power make a comeback

What would be even cooler is if it was Edwin himself who became interested in using that power

I can see him researching what devices can be used for it, do they have to always inflict pain on him to work and if yes, then how far is he willing to go in order to get it

He'd never use it for any malicious purposes or to just possess power for power's sake, he'd use it in extremely dire situations, when he really needs a certain spell to be amplified in order to rescue Charles from danger

Which brings me to the obvious angst potential of Edwin hiding the pain, lying about the source of the amazing power and then ofc Charles finding out and oh

(It'd introduce more magic and actual combat power for the boys - which is actually the opposite of what the show is about, I know, aside from a wild use of Crystal's vast abilities, they really make a good job at showing that the boys were just normal humans (and now ghosts) who predominantly use their wits and knowledge gathered throughout the many years of being on Earth, so I wouldn't even expect them to go this direction (if they actually mention Edwin's soul's power ever again), but it's just a very fun concept to me)

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐃 ! ❞

❝ A GOOD GIRL SUMMONING THE KING OF CURSES -- WHAT COULD GO WRONG? ❞

✧ pairing: heian form! ryomen sukuna x good girl! reader

✧ summary: you've always been a goody two shoes -- or so your friends say -- so what happens when you decide to do the first bad thing you've ever attempted and try summoning a demon -- and it actually works?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, dub/con / non/con (dead dove, do not eat), reader summons sukuna accidentally, monster fucking, corruption kink, reader is a virgin, dom! sukuna, heian form! sukuna, four arms, mouth stomach, size kink, oral (f + m) (f receiving via mouth stomach), handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, degradation kink (slut, whore), overstimulation (f! receiving), description of violence (no violence happens), art by @/danXL4 (on dA), dividers by @/saradika

✧ wc: 4,916

Summon a demon in your apartment, they said. It would be fun, they said. 

‘They’ meaning your stupid ass friends who were too fucking scared to stay here with you while you did it. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through, preferably before you sat in a circle of blood (animal blood taken humanely that could not be used — don’t worry, you weren’t completely insane), and painted the symbols around the circle in the living room, your carpet rolled up, and on the precipice of unfurling, and your coffee table pushed aside. 

Your phone buzzed with messages in your group chat: 

Don’t do this, girl. 

Another message. 

What if it’s real? I don’t want something to happen to you - like I rather not have this on my conscience

What heartfelt pleas, you shook your head, as you put your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ and propped it up before opening the camera app and hitting record. 

Your fucking friends — it was all their fault to begin with. 

You grit your teeth, you are tired of being boring. You were always studying, always coming home early, always getting to class on time, always the fucking good girl, never getting fucked up or fucked for that matter. And your friends always taunted you for it — told you that you never lived a day in your life, that you’d always live sheltered in your apartment with your books and your streaming apps (which, you admitted, did sound pretty good to you) — but you wanted to prove them wrong. 

All the fuck they did that was daring was go to supposedly haunted sights and get the piss scared out of them — like yeah, that really was the wind, not some fucking ghost. If it was a ghost, pretty sure they would choose someone better to haunt — not a bunch of fucking pussies. 

You needed better friends. 

So for once — if only to get them to shut up — you wanted to do something crazy. 

You don’t know why a demon summoning was the hill you had chosen to die on, but you already climbed your way to the top of the hill, you supposed, so you might as well die on it. You looked through the Reddit thread you found on demon summoning (of course the most reliable of sources), looking over the incantation you were supposed to read, as you turned on your camera. 

Fuck. This was going to fucking dumb. You grabbed your lighter, lining up your candles around the circle, before kneeling in front of it. 

“To summon the King of Curses,” you read before you scoffed, what the fuck were you doing? ‘The King of Curses’ — they couldn’t even come up with anything more creative than that? Like no latin? Or even japanese folklore — no, instead the most generic ass of names, “To summon the King of Curses, you must read the following incantation,” you glance at your phone’s camera with lips pursed — you were going to prove a point — but why did it feel so goddamn stupid? 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead, as you suck in air between your teeth, and sighed, before reading the incantation: “Rise, Disgraced One — Oh, the King of the Golden Age that reigned supreme,” there was a chill that grazed the back of your neck, a slight breeze that raises goosebumps along your skin, “Open the Gate of Hell and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

The flames on the candles shoot to the ceiling, as a scream lodges itself in your throat, as you barely scramble back enough to avoid getting your face burned off. The fire licks the ceiling, and a thick cloud of smoke floods your apartment, sweeping through the apartment, as you begin to cough, eyes burning with tears. 

“What the fuck—“ you reach for your phone in your pocket only to realize it’s still set up to record in that fucking mess of flames. You’re frozen, as you stand trying to recall what they taught you about fire safety growing up — is opening a window a good thing or a bad thing? Where’s the fire alarm? Do you even have a fire extinguisher? Thinking dangerous things through wasn’t your specialty, you supposed because you never did them. 

Fuck, if you died, you would become a fucking ghost and haunt your friends. 

But the flames ebb away, leaving some scorch marks on the ceiling (fun thing to explain to your landlord), as your lungs struggled to cope with the flood of smoke dispersing, the cloud so thick, you could barely see your hand in front of your face. The haze seared at your throat, drawing a smoker’s cough from your lungs, while your eyes could barely open, waterlogged by the sheer amount of tears spilling. 

You gently wipe tears away from your eyes, as you blink them away, until you stumble to your window to throw it open, coughing, as you stick your head out. 

“What the fuck,” you mumble, throat raw — was it the candles you bought? Were the candles somehow really fucking defective? Or did you somehow actually summon a demon? You snort, no, it was probably the candles. You leaned against the window sill, letting the smoke escape — as you finally were able to breathe again. 

You sigh, shutting the window, turning back around — only to find four eyes staring back. 

He was huge. A hulking mass of muscles, four arms, instead of two, and each one was possibly wider than your head, no shirt or covering to find the exposed skin — his dark blue pants hung low around his waist and above it was a weird groove in the middle of his stomach. 

Your eyes raise as he lifts his arm, as you flinch, but he only rakes his fingers through his dark pink hair, pushing it back roughly. showing off the hands of black around the middle of his bicep and his wrists. Broken lines wrap down from his shoulders into jagged points that end in the middle of his chest. Black dots adorn the sides of his shoulders, hollow vacuums that stared back at you. 

Two eyes on each side of his face — but his right eyes were raised, as if he bore a mask made of wood or raised skin — you didn’t know which — fused to his face. But something told you — as you took a step back — it wasn’t something you wanted to find out. 

“Are you the brat who dared to summon me?” And you freeze at the sound of his voice, ringing with such a weight, it nearly brought you to your knees. Your eyes fell to the ground, unable to bring yourself to look at him — your heart rattling against your ribs. His presence was a pressure, the air around you seemed to still, his voice ringing in your ears. Your muscles were drawn taut, unable to move — shivers ripping down your spine. 

“Yes,” you manage a whisper only, resisting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. 

He gives a small chuckle, “So submissive for the one who dared to summon me,” his heavy footsteps out of the circle, melts the candles beside his foot to puddles of wax, “it has been eons since I’ve been able to roam free—“ he inhales, as you stand frozen, hearing his hulking form drawing even closer, “I can smell the humans, roaming free, wriggling like worms in the crevices of this place — I can’t wait to massacre them,” and then he pauses a moment, as he considers you. 

“Brat, look at me,” you swallow, as your head slowly rises to meet his gaze, his form towering over you, standing two steps away from you, letting you dwell in the void of his shadow, “tell me, what did you use to summon me?” 

You blink, “I found it—I don’t know—“ 

“Read it to me,” he orders — there’s no option to disobey, unless you’d love to be met with certain death. So you move slowly to your laptop, reading the incantation again, “‘and let the King corrupt you. Fuga,” 

His eyes narrow, as a slow smirk settles over his features, a smirk that sends an icy chill down your spine, “Woman, you have no idea what you’ve done, have you?” 

Two of his arms are crossed while one of the other’s reaches for you — and your eyes shut now — you are surely dead, but instead of a hand around your neck, you feel fingers grip your chin. 

You wait for the embrace of death (at least maybe you’d find better friends in the afterlife), but it never comes, instead you hear a deep chuckle, as another arm curls around your waist and brings you flush to him, “You humans are so tiny, so fragile, one wrong move and i could break you,” and another large hand is slipping down the curves of your body, “I suppose I’ll have to be a little careful — only for this to work, and I suppose for your benefit as well,” and your eyes finally dare to open and peek at him, only for his face to draw near, breath warming your lips, “I’m going to savor corrupting you, little one,” 

“What the fuck—“ you try to break away, but his grip is like iron shackles around your wrists, as he forces your arms around his waist, caged in by his own arms, “please let me go—“

Before you can even finish your plea, his lips meet yours, swallowing your gasp with a smirk. His large hands around your waist left no space for retreat, not that you’d make it far even if you tried. His kiss sent a slow burning heat throughout your body, a spark that grew in your belly that ignited when his tongue slid into your mouth. His touch only added fuel to the flame — his hands skimming over your sides slowly like warm honey sliding down your skin. 

He parts your kiss ruined lips, not before his teeth bite down on your bottom lip, a smirk on his lips as he sees your saliva slip down the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted and puffy as he drags his thumb down them, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“That’s it, give in,” and the haze that settles over you is thick and unforgiving, unable to see anything but the King of Curses before you and unable to need anything but pleasure at his hands. 

“Please,” a small hint of resistance remained stubbornly — you couldn’t let this monster have his way with you — for fuck’s sake, much less lose your virginity to him, “I can’t,” 

“But you want to,” he hums, as large fingers tug at your flimsy shorts, the fabric tearing with ease, until it was in shreds, a shiver running up your spine at the thought that your limbs could have been too, “your mouth says one thing, brat, but your lower lips,” a thick finger presses at the wet patch on your panties, rubbing against your puffy clit, “say another,” 

You whimper, as his finger bears down harshly through the thin fabric, “please,” you swallow, as he leans down to lick the drool from your lips, “please—“ 

“Please, what, little one?” he chuckles, as he presses wet kisses up your jaw, “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me,” your knees are beginning to buckle, as the ache between your legs only grows, “I know you must look pretty when you cry, so do you want to cry for me, brat?” and his piercing gaze nearly brings you tears along, “because I can give you something to cry about,” 

“Do you ever shut up?” you mutter, but that only seems to make the corner of his lip tug upwards. 

“I can make you shut up,” And two hands squeeze your hips roughly, while another slips under your shirt, “No undercovering? It’s as if you wanted this all long,” he chides, a huff in his voice, as his finger teases your pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling, drawing a yelp from your lips, “hoping for an incubus or some other curse or demon?” he’s tugging down his pants, revealing his dick—-if you could call it that. 

Fuck, was that a cock or another appendage all together? Far thicker and longer than any male anatomy you’ve seen depicted or described in even the filthiest corners of the internet — pretty veins running up the sides, as a mess of pre-cum dripped off the engorged tip, flushed red with need. 

“Why did you summon me?” he demands to know as he leans down to take a nipple between his lips, and you know you have no choice but to answer. 

“I wanted to prove to my friends that I wasn’t—” it was so pathetic now, as you stood before a literal deity of death, “wasn’t just a good girl,” 

He chuckles, a bark more than a laugh almost, as you swallow thickly as your eyes can’t tear away from the sight of his dick — would he kill you with it instead of his hands? 

“Well, you aren’t anymore are you?” he scoffs, and you fail to notice his hand shifting to tug your underwear off, a gasp ripped from you, as another hand brushed against your bare cunt roughly, “Look at how fucking wet you are already, slut, so much already leaking all over my fingers,” he shows you the strings of pre-cum connecting his fingers, before he brings his fingers to his lips and his tongue darts out to lick them clean, “I’d say no respectable woman would be dripping this much if she was so good,” he hums, before sighing mockingly, “although, perhaps I should preserve your sanctity, even a little. It would be unfortunate to leave you like this — even more so, to leave myself like this, but if that is truly what’s for the best—“ his grip begins to loosen, but your fingers find his shoulder. 

Two words manage to leave your lips — and you don’t know whether it’s that you’re under his spell or under your own — but you know that you need this “Don’t go,” 

His lips curl. He wasn’t going to begin with — but it was so much easier if you gave in. 

~~~

“C’mon little one, you were so eager only a moment ago,” The King of Curses chides, amusement threaded through his tone from behind you, watching as you nearly straddled his stomach — though you had realized it wasn’t just a stomach. A tongue flicked out over lips that formed over the middle of his abdomen, right under you. 

“I didn’t know—“ your cheeks warmed, your walls fluttering at that thought of that tongue against your leaking cunt. 

“Yet you’re so eager,” he scoffs, before using a large hand to tug you against it as two hands settle against your waist to hold you in place, “and I’ve run out of patience, so be a good whore and take my cock,” and he’s pushing your head down, sharp fingernails digging into your scalp, as his large cock slaps your face, smearing his pre cum over your cheek and lips. 

Your lips part, the tip of your tongue tracing his weeping slit, drawing a hiss from his lips, before your mouth engulfs the head, while your fingers curl around his thick base. And as you do, you feel his tongue drag over the length of your cunt, making you gasp around his cock. 

His mouth and tongue are even larger than the one on his face, slurping and sucking, as his tongue begins to work its way inside your needy cunt. 

“Don’t slack, brat,” his hand pushing your head further down on his cock, nearly burying your face in his pubes, “come on, do a good job, and I may even give you the pleasure of being fucked by me,” 

You force yourself to focus on sucking his cock, tracing the pretty veins with your tongue, before suckling at the tip, savoring the groan you draw from his lips. The squelch of your cunt as his tongue begins to fuck you open, thicker than even four of your fingers, fills your ears. Two of his hands find your tits, tweaking and twisting your nipples, squeezing as he presses the flat of his palms against your breasts, only for tongues to dart out from his palms. You gasp around his length, as his other mouths suck at your tits, swirling their tongue around it. 

His hips jerk against your mouth when your fingers cup his balls, and he thrusts, “You can do better,” he grunts, as his tip grazes your throat, his mouth closing around your clit and sucking, hard, and you’re grinding on his abs and mouth now, toes curling as you cum, and his mouth only eagerly swallows it, the sticky release coating his abs. 

His cock twitches in your mouth as you moan around it, as you recover from your orgasm, beginning to suck at his cock, nearly high off the pleasure, as you fondle his balls, bobbing your head up and down, until he’s finally groaning, his hot release flooding your mouth. 

“Don’t waste a drop,” he growls, as you swallow it, blissed out and panting, as your lips leave his weeping cock, slapping against your cheek as he lifts you easily and places you on your back, “don’t tell me you’re done after that, little one,” and your eyes slide down to see his somehow still erect dick, standing tall as he kneels on your bed, his hulking form burying you in his shadow, “because I’m far from done yet,” his cock twitches at the sight of your lips, a swollen mess from sucking him off, a mix of his cum and your saliva all over your face. 

“Please, I can’t—“ you whine, shaking your head, but two hands are already spreading your folds, your cunt fluttering around nothing, as if already craving to have his dick buried in it. 

“Your cunt seems to disagree, little one,” as he drags a thick digit around your clit, before pinching it, as you keen under his touch, “you’re drenched for me, begging for me to take you,” and his thumb is now rubbing circles around your puffy clit while he sinks a finger into you knuckle deep, “I just have to make sure you can fit me in this tight hole of yours,” your head falls back against the pillow as he’s knuckle deep, another large finger already pushing into your slick walls, “still so tight despite all the time I took to open you up,” he clicked his tongue, a smirk on his lips, as his fingers find the spongy spot that makes your fingers fist at the sheets, as your release squirts over his fingers, your body boneless as pleasure buzzes through every inch of your body, until you finally start come down. 

But as soon as you even begin to, his fingers begin to move again, fucking you through your orgasm, and quickly into another. 

“Ngh, no, no, not yet—” your voice is caught in your throat, words leaving your lips in a hurry because you know surely his fingers would rip any coherent thought from your mind in a moment. 

But he does not relent, only finger fucking you harder, “I have to be careful to open you up, otherwise, I very well may break you in two, wouldn’t I? Such fragile things, you humans are — already squealing? I haven’t even added a third finger yet,” he scoffs, as he hums, “have you not been deflowered yet, brat?” 

And your pussy gives a telltale flutter that only has his lips curling further, a flash of his canines sending a chill down your spine, “I-I—”

“No need for your answer, pet, your body gave me the answer itself,” he hums, “then this will take a bit longer than I thought—” as his fingers curl and drag over your walls, before scissoring apart, “I’d prefer for you to be conscious when I take your virginity, but I don’t mind if you’re not,” 

And a fourth finger presses at your slick hole, making you whimper, “Please, I can’t—” but he does not relent, four fingers now fucking you open, as your mouth parts in a silent scream, back arching as they work you open. Your body lies on slick drenched sheets, the smell and sound of your arousal only making his need grow, holding back if only not to ruin you completely — he needed you still, needed this to work. And he wasn’t sure what’d happen if he’d break you completely — and he knew he could far too easily. Already he could feel your blood rushing under his touch, the small gasps and moans could turn to screams with just a finger barely lifted, the slick painted over with scarlet. 

But he doesn’t. He can’t. Not when he’s so close. And soon enough he won’t need you — but he can only cross that bridge when he gets there. 

Or rather, when you get there. 

~~~

“Brat, c’mon, keep your eyes open, we’re almost there,” Sukuna barks, as his fingers grip your chin, and force your gaze to him. How many orgasms had he given you? Seven or eight ? Maybe more. Sweat and cum clung to your skin, sticky and hot, as he continued to fuck you open, “think this virgin hole is finally ready for my cock, listen to it,” the loud squelch of your cunt as he thrust his fingers in and out had almost become white noise to you — and the sweet stretch of your pussy around his fingers had become second nature. 

And finally he’s pulling his fingers from you, digits shiny and dripping with your release, sliding down your palm and wrist, as he brought them to his mouth to lick it clean, before offering it to his mouth on his stomach as well. He watches you all fucked out before him, legs spread along with your cunt that fluttered around nothing, waiting for him to slot his cock between your folds and sink in. He grunts, fuck, his balls still feel so full, even after cumming down your throat, aching to cum in your sweet cunt, see him fill your womb with his seed, the sweet release he had been craving for far too long. 

“You still want my cock still, little one? Or are you too tired for it now?” he drags his leaking cock over your dripping folds, letting it tease your swollen clit as his pre cum mixes with your own, “maybe I should leave you like this, let you beg and beg for me until you’re writhing for me,”

You’re panting, the ache inside your pussy too much for you to bear — you were melting without him inside, the only thing to quench your need, your thirst — he was the only thing that could even begin to make it ebb. 

“Please, please, my King,” your words are nearly sobs, pretty tears slipping down your cheeks, as your chest heaves with need — want far gone several hours ago, leaving only you with a desperation that would drive you mad, “I need you, need you take me, need you to fuck me,” 

And his lips curl, “I thought you’d never ask, brat,” and he’s settling himself between your parted legs, pressing them back against your stomach, “although even if you didn’t, I’d help myself — because you summoned me after all, didn’t you, little one?” As he uses another arm to cup your chin, “watch me as I sink into you,” 

Your cunt quivers as he presses his head to your entrance, as he uses your slick to wet his cock, “I’ll go slow at first, but once I’m inside, I have no intention of stopping, no matter how much you beg,” 

It was a warning, a warning that there was no going back — but there was no going back from the moment you summoned this curse onto your doorstep — there was a descent into depravity, and how quickly you’d make it to the bottom. 

The tip of his cock barely parts your folds, and you’re already whining about how full it feels — your walls fluttering as if trying to either  accommodate his girth or push him out all together. He saw the faint drip of scarlet as he worked himself in, inch by inch — as your fingers found purchase in his forearms, nails digging crescents into his flesh. 

“F-fuck, ngh, Too big, Sukuna, I can’t—“ and he can already feel your pussy give the telltale flutter of an orgasm, a cry ripped from your throat, as you cum, walls only pulling him in deeper and deeper — as if they never wanted to let go. 

And finally, finally, he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your aching cunt, and he stills — it had been so long since he had enjoyed the body of a virgin, but he was sure you were the sweetest and tightest cunt he’d ever had. 

Your cries made him scoff, tears streaming down your ruined face, it made his cock twitch —you were so small compared to him, a tiny pebble waiting to be crushed, but instead he held you in the palm of his hand. You were his to have, his to break, and his to corrupt. 

“I told you there was no stopping,” he grunts as another hand settles on your stomach, on top of the slight bulge that came with his cock sinking into you, “can you feel me touching the deepest parts of you?” And he takes the whimper as a yes, “get accustomed to it, because this cunt shall be my breeding ground for as long as I see fit,”

And he finally pulls out only to sink back into your sweet depths, knocking the breath from your lungs. He starts slow, if only to spare you from breaking — because he knows so easily could. The wet squelch of your cunt rings in his ears, as he watches his thick cock sink in and out of your pussy again and again. 

 “Look at you, barely able to take my fingers and now you’re taking my cock so well,” he groans at the sight of your stretched pussy, as it took his cock over and over, molding its very shape to his length, as the slap of your skin against his became like a metronome, “such a perfect little whore, aren’t you?” and you moaned at his words, the sound of which made your cheeks burn with shame — “don’t worry, even if you aren’t, little one,” his fingers find your clit, rubbing and twisting until you come again, hard, your back arching as you do, fingernails nearly drawing blood from his arms as you do. 

He hums, as he only fucks you through your orgasm, even as you try to squirm away from him, it’s all in vain — because you’re his now, “Oi, brat, where are you going? You won’t like what I’ll do if you try to get away again — your only place now is under me,” and his hands find his way under your ass as he shifts you onto his lap, “or on this throne,” and he fucks into you, brutally, again and again, your arms clinging around his neck desperately, as a hand on the back of your head guides your lips to his, “tongue out,” he orders, and you do as he says, as the two of you meet in a sloppy kiss. 

And his hands shift to your hips, bruising as they help you ride him, meeting his thrusts with your own, until he’s finally hitting your cervix that has you squirting, drenching him in your release as your walls shudder around him. And his lips leave yours a moment, before they kiss down your jaw to your neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a yelp from your lips. 

He groans, a guttural noise from his chest, as he notches himself as deep as he can before cumming, his hot release spurting out and painting your walls, as he continues to fuck it deeper and deeper, the snaps of his hips finally slowing, as he pulls away from your neck, enjoying the blood that pools in the ridges of his bite mark. 

“Such a good little slut, aren’t you?” he hums, as he cups your lolling head, eyes thick with sleep and body heavy with exhaustion, you hear his quiet voice murmur, “I was only going to corrupt you for the sake of completing the summons you gave — I had no choice if I wanted to stay on this plane, but,” he hums, as pulls his cock from you with a gasp on your lips, before he has you flipped onto your stomach in a moment, sheathing his thick length back into you in one thrust, “I think I just might keep you, brat,” your eyes flutter shut, as his words fade from your consciousness, until a mean spank to your ass jolts you from your retreat into Hypnos’s arms. 

No — as you turned your head ever so slowly to get Sukuna’s face in your periphery — you only answered to one god now. 

The King of Curses’ lips curled in a cruel smirk, as he drew his hips back before slamming back in, “Let’s show the world truly how depraved you are, brat, hm? Together.” 

✧ a/n: this is my first time writing sukuna so i hope i was able to do him justice. i was gonna do the whole two dick thing, but i was already like...this is complicated enough lmao.

✧ taglist: @pricetagofficial, @kentocalls, @angie-1306, @fayyyrieee, @dontshuugo, @zz-snow-zz, @viveriens, @sunflowmaryam, @eclipsephase, @merrymonkey, @leilannnnnnni, @spider-fan72, @temptationville, @gojos-princesa, @yell0wdreams, @achelliescomedown, @hiyori-ii, @bunninio, @grunge-mo0n, @diogodxlot, @littlecrybabys-world, @esuz, @unnamedflwr, @lemonpoppy-seed, @corkedscrewslocked, @bsaeshell, @methodofawesome, @rinvrin, @noveltywilbur, @ch0c0bsess, @sarcasticbitchsblog, @simpingnbitching, @aethyrite, @aitheria, @sweetpanda15, @daddytojji, @kindadolly, @kimnamjoonsbigtoe, @catsgomurp, @dhoranbolt, @kariatenoh, @hanxyy

[brain4stew]

Killers with a reader that has been kicking bosses’ asses in different games, worlds and etc, etc…

.

.

1x1x1x1

• Did not expect that YOU… Of all survivors and killers… Has accomplished something like defeating, humans, machinery, demons and possibly even literal GODS…

• You seem to frail, weak and vulnerable to them, it honestly shocks him, to hear your accomplishments. (But she also strangely loves it…)

• He’d ask you to spar with him occasionally. Normally it ends up with her being on the ground, under you, or with them being unconscious, as you have to carry them to the killer’s cabin…

• After a lot of that, strangely enough, she’d develop… Feelings. For you. He’d be in denial of those feelings at first, but they’d eventually accept their feelings for you.

• Of course, with his awfully high pride, they do not tell you about her feelings for you. They think it’d make them seem weak.

.

.

John Doe

• Genuinely? Confused.

• Doesn’t understand how YOU of all beings, has been able to do all that. You seem so easy to break in his opinion.

• Doesn’t spar with you, as he’s a bit unsure if you can actually handle the corruption he may inflict on you, if you two ever were to spar.

• Does develop feelings for you, but eventually ends up forgetting those feelings. Causing a loop with those feelings.

.

.

Jason

• Confused how you managed all that, but is also amazed.

• He sees you as some sort of “Villain” or “Hero” he used to dream of when he was a kid, before… All that happened to him and his mother.

• His mother keeps telling him that you’re the “Hero/Villain” he’s been dreaming, and thinking of. (She enables the thinking and dreams, to make him feel great about his actions, his strength and all that.)

• He and his mother thinks you’re awesome from all your accomplishments.

.

.

C00lkidd

• Sees you as a badass person. Maybe even sees you as his role model. (Cough. His dad basically. Cough.)

• He always asks you to tell him about your accomplishments, when he’s going to sleep. (He ends up falling asleep to when you tell him about when you fought a literal emotion demon. HATRED from blocktales smh…)

• You’re his role model, and always plays with you, unless you’re sparring with 1x4.

.

.

Mafioso

• This guy… Actually finds it intriguing that you have so many accomplishments, and was tempted to recruit you in the mafia. (Eunoia said no.)

• His goons ask you if you are able to lift and carry lots of things, or even people. You lifted all 4 of his goons, carrying them in your arms, which shocked them and made them giddy for the possible next time you pick them up.

• Mafioso once had a far too heavy object on him, where he was literally crushed, like a rabbit/bunny pancake (that one video of a bunny laying flat after a cage like object fell on it). His goons did try and help, even Eunoia tried. But, they couldn’t help him.

• So what happened then? Eunoia called you over, and you helped him. When I tell you, that this man, fell head over heels for you right then and there…

.

.

Azure

• Now, they normally wouldn’t be impressed, but when they heard you take down a literal CULT, that had plenty of potential hazard/atomic weapons? WOW.

• They actually asked you if you fought anyone, or anything similar to what they are now. And you, of course, say yes, that you have. You told them everything about the fight, and how you struggled a bit, due to the tentacles.

• And dear god, you swear you saw their tentacles swirl and make small heart shapes as they listened to you.

• They occasionally pick you up out of nowhere, just to see how you’ll react, and how you’ll get out of their grasp. Hands, arms, tentacles, you name it.

• They also ask you to pick them up and carry them a bit, although that is extremely rare for them to ask of you. But when they do ask that, you do pick them up and carry them around, careful of their tentacles and all that.

• The way they fell in love felt weird for them.

.

.

Noli

• This guy, he’s a bit of a prick.

• He sometimes teases you about your accomplishments, and how unlucky you are with those you had to fight.

• You in return, grab his leg and hold home upside down to shut him up, momentarily.

• He’s surprised by how strong you actually are, because he thought you weren’t strong, even with your accomplishments…

• This guy, actually wants to see how you’ll do against a dangerous exploiter/hacker… But doesn’t know how to ask you about that.

• He does ask you occasionally to pick him up when he’s a bit exhausted, which you do. You just, pick him up, and let him rest in your arms, as you go about your day with him in your arms.

.

.

Guest 666

• I genuinely have no idea how to write for this idiot.

• He’s confused, but also amazed by your accomplishments.

• His tail, is just wagging whenever you tell him a story about one of your accomplishments, he’s listening intently.

• He occasionally asks you if you can even lift him up and carry him. You did once, and it legit scared the fuck outta him, and he most of the time, doesn’t ask you to pick him up again.

• He wonders what Noob will think of you, but his thoughts get cut off by you sparring with 1x4, which he pays A LOT of attention on.

[crazyness-overpowers]

god. it’s eliot fucking spencer.

because it always has been eliot spencer.

eliot, who let himself be tortured, who resisted torture, in a situation he could get himself out of in five minutes, because they were torturing homeless veterans.

eliot, who only counts himself as saving someone’s life two and a half times because that half time he was the one sent to kill him.

eliot, who was willing to take down a billion dollar corporation, who begged nate to do everything he could, because of one guy with a hardware store and one near-closing grocery store.

eliot, who offered to kill a man for parker in less than a breath because she asked, who broke his rule on killing because nate could take down his biggest demon, who ran toward a bullet because he knew parker could take care of a city-killing virus.

eliot spencer, who started this season stabbed and bleeding, who was told someone didn’t want him to keep taking hits meant for him.

eliot, who was tired and just wanted his own bed.

he wakes up every day and acknowledges that he still has work to do.

and he never, ever, needed convincing to take down a corrupt mayor who was running drugs in his town. he knew that it needed to be fixed, what needed to be done to save the town, that this is the worst of it. he wanted more time. to do it right. so the surprises wouldn’t happen.

and if you’re looking at it, really looking, i think, parker doesn’t try to convince him to stay.

she knows he’s in.

because it’s who he’s always been.

[on-the-clear-blue]

So yall know that the League of Assassin's are like, an eco terrorist thing right? Well I just had this idea.

Sam, coming into Danny's room and just face planting on his bed: Ugh...

Danny, who was sleeping, awoken as his friend who had gone missing 6 moths ago flopped onto of him: OH SWEET-NOCTURN IF THIS ISNT REAL I AM GONING TO SOUP YOY SO HARD...

Sam, reaching up and slapping her hand on his mouth:Shhh, less screaming, more sleeping, escaping murder cults takes more energy than I thought.

Sam produces to pass out and sleep for three days straight.

---

Tucker, lookingnup from his PDA: so...you joined what you thought was a peaceful protest and some how ended up in a eco terrorist death cult of assassins? I mean...shit now I have to do something interesting...

Danny, choking on his drink: Nuh uh, your the normal one Tuck, I died and now have a magical girl transformation and Sam got kidnapped by ninjas and somehow even more bad ass, you...you can still get out of this and just be a normal person.

Sam, nodding sadly: Yeah...don't conform to our standards Tucker, be your true, weak little boney self.

Tucker, sniffing:I am so going to not do that.

---

Just the idea that Sam not only got League training but also got out is hilarious to me, like yeah, that is the kinda bs that would happen.

Alsoni can just see her dropping random lore shit.

Sam, bored as the boys study: Did you know thst the Demon Head dunks himself in corrupted ecto? Yeah it's gnarly man, didn't taste good.

Danny, going to speak before pausing and thinking, before sighing:Yeah I would have licked it too.

Tucker, frowning as he finishes his "Evil invention-enator": You both have so many issues.

---

Sam, trying to teach Danny the basic league hand to hand:Come on dude! It's not that hard!

Danny, falling flat on his ass after not even touching Sam: Ow ow ow...fuck yeah it kinda is!

Sam, rolling her eyes: If not only the Demon Heads six year old grandson can learn but also Ellie? You can too.

Danny, mutterinf under his breath before pausing completely:ELLIE? What was she doing with a murder cult? I thought she learnt her lesson after the last one!

Sam, shrugging before putting kicking at Danny on the floor: I don't know she was following a guy around who was catatonic, said something about being angry at him for not answering her pen pal messages or whatever, I was more busy training to really care...like you should be doing!

---

Years later Sam is joining Danny and Tucker in Gotham, Tucker because he was scouted by both WE and Lexcorp, he wanted to choose the evil company because poorer work place regulations and the likely hood of him getting a powerbost was much higher, but was bullied by his friends/partners into choosing WE.

Sam, coming to the R&D labs late one night bringing Tucker dinner so he doesn't starve working a late shift, blinking as she sees a short boy sneaking out of the lab: Biraeam? (Sprout in Arabic) what are you doing here.

Damian, blinking right back, experimental tech Bruce has yet to clear for the field clutched under one arm and the blueprints for a new type of explosive batarang in the other: Manson...I-I could ask you the same.

Sam, raising an eyebrow and staring down Damian: bringing dinner to my husband...who works here...and I can only think that you do not. So I ask that you put those things you have down and tell your bastard of a grandfather not to step back in this place.

Damian, eyes squinting, he hadn't been around his grandfather for ages at this point but still felt offended at her tone: I don't think I will.

---

An epic fight produces where they both try not and spill/destroy the things that they are carrying until either Tucker or Tim find them and explain everything.

The everlasting Trio gets invited over for dinner (mostly because Bruce is a paranoid bastard and dislikes thst one of his employees is dateing/ is partners with an ex-LoA member) and it's a bit of just pointing at each other and shit

Sam, slamming her hands down on the table as she stands: Kindly Mr Wanye, Shut the fuck up, I know your batman, we all fucking know it so if you are going to try and interrogate us at least do it properly!

Danny, sipping his wine: I mean...I-I didn't know but I um...haven't been paying much attention to the bat dude...Rag man is cooler.

Sam, glaring:And you! Fucking Ragman? You can do so much better.

Danny, offended for his hero: Oi! He does good work!

Bruce, frowning as this night has gotten away from him: He kills people.

Sam, waving over at Bruce: Exactly!

Danny, rolling his eyes: Exactly she says, while having a kill count that's still growing, Exactly she says when she was the one that pushed that oil tycoon off the 50th floor.

Sam wincing,: Maybe not in front of batman babe?

Danny, looking over to Bruce that is looking ready to fight: Shit...imma call Tuck and tell him to start packing...

[miriani-lavellan]

Ahh, Lucanis. So let me first say, his scenes make total sense and I'm happy with what we got - we all want more from our faves, but they did manage to compact a lot of trauma and resolution in some fairly compact quests. Here's what I think happened that wasn't made explicitly clear though:

Lucanis chooses the pantry to sleep in because he's been imprisoned and tortured for a year, and he's not ready to leave captivity yet, not inside his head. He locks himself in there because it's familiar misery to him, which is easier to deal with than scary freedom.

Lucanis' letter to Rook before he asks Emmrich to bring Zara back for questioning tells us he's suicidal at that point, and probably has been for a while. Spite, however, doesn't see him as a lost cause - he never uses that to take over Lucanis' body entirely. This is so interesting to me, when we know things like that pretty famously happen all the time in Thedas. He's determined to keep Lucanis alive - and he asks for Rook's help in doing so.

We are in the NORTH now BABY! Attitudes towards spirits and demons are different here, especially in Rivain, and it seems with our Rook too, who never expresses any chantry-esque hang ups (that I've seen). Seer Rowan greets Spite as Determination, and that's how he's introduced by Isabela (with some excitement) if you fight in the hall of Valor. What happened to Spite is just as sad as what happened to Lucanis. He was violated, perhaps corrupted, and definitely trapped - and hurts Lucanis sometimes in his frustration. But, I think he likes Lucanis! He's his host's little head gremlin, and I think the relationship they have (that we don't see too much of) is healthier than any of the possessed individuals we've seen before.

Because? Lucanis is not a spiteful person. He wants revenge, yes, and he's angry, but he doesn't hurt everyone around him because he's in pain. One of the first things he does when he becomes part of the team is go shopping for them. And despite how Ilario and Caterina have hurt him - and you can argue all day whether he's right to be like this - he still cares for them.

I think that when we help Lucanis leave the prison inside his head, we are helping Spite to return to his original nature as Determination just a little more. We're determined to help our friend, and you know what? Spite is too. For himself, firstly, because Lucanis's pain is hurting him, but in the end, he's done it for Lucanis too. There's an argument there that Determination didn't get corrupted at all - just hurt, and that Lucanis, with his loving nature, has been keeping him from turning into a mindless demon of pain.

I thought for a long time that when Lucanis breaks away from kissing Rook, it was because Spite said something horrible to him. But actually, I think it was Lucanis himself, remembering how trapped he is. Thinking about the eventuality of killing himself - I strongly suspect that's what he was thinking about before he fell asleep, and that's why Spite was trying to go walkabout - trying to get out from where Lucanis can't. Lucanis got lost in the moment, but of course he doesn't want to drag Rook into that.

Lucanis making dessert for Rook and thinking that's the same as asking them out (but not actually asking them out) is so completely on brand for him I laughed. He has no idea what he's doing. It would have been nice, though, for Rook to reply to one of the companion's 'so you're together?' banters with... 'we are?' Or for Rook to be able to ask him. Unfortunately, we don't get those convos where we can spam ask questions etc like in DA:I - I did wonder if that got cut and we missed some resolution to that.

Lucanis gives no shits about everyone knowing he's Rook's love interest. He's not ashamed of himself or scared he'll hurt them - Rook has helped both him and Spite. And judging by the way Spite's wings come out to embrace Rook as they kiss Lucanis, I suspect that Spite might love them, too.

[letsriddlemethislucifer]

[hoshigray]

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢-𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ☠︎ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦-𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 | a JJK series

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: another year, another kinktober for the blog; everyone say thank you to @blkkizzat for making me do this before i get off this platform bc i promise you i was ready to throw it in the trash, LMAO !! I can only hope that I can post everything on time...anyway, happy October, everybody!

2023 kinktober list ⋮ masterlists ⋮ playlist

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑺𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒚…𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆???

All the material below contains 18+ content, so minors do not interact. Changes + added pieces will be updated; look through my RBs to see what was changed or added. Contents of the fanfics/pieces are specified in their respective posts.

☠︎ = ficlet/thirst/scenario (Tues) | ♱ = fics (Thurs)

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 1 :

☠︎ 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 . . . ft. bully! Gojo ⋮ corruption kink

♱ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐆𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | s. gojō + k. nanami + h. higuruma

Two demon hunters and a witch unite to take down a demon terrorizing the locals — sounds easy enough until the demon puts up a good fight and drags you three in for a night you’ll never forget…!

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 2 :

☠︎ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 & 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲 . . . ft. true form! Sukuna ⋮ cannabilism/ blood kink

♱ 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 & 𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 | s. ryōmen

The duty of a shrine maiden isn’t straightforward — especially during the olden times. Could you take on the supposed King of Curses head-on and leave unscathed in more ways than one? Who knows…

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 3 :

☠︎ 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐧' 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 . . . ft. werewolf! Nanami ⋮ breeding kink + knotting

♱ 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫! | t. fushiguro

Not only are you drunk on a Friday night, but you’re a drunk, closeted succubus who is, unfortunately, under the care of the hot neighbor under your roof! Would you ruin the mood if he found out your little secret? You don’t even wanna know!

extra!! to be announced soon...

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 4 :

☠︎ 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬' 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 . . . ft. sirens! Shoko + Utahime + Yuki ⋮ monster-fucking + foursome

♱ 𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧' 𝐖𝐡𝐨, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞? | c. kamo

Having a phantom in your apartment sounds pretty scary…! But what happens when you finally catch that unexpectedly cute ghost creeping around and frightening you? And…how do you plan on punishing the little scrub?

𓉸ྀི . . . 𝑾𝑬𝑬𝑲 5 :

☠︎ 𝐒𝐨 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦 & 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 . . . ft. ex-husband! Toji ⋮ cockwarming

♱ 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥[𝐞𝐫] !! | s. gojō + s. getō

Ending the month with tradition: pulling up all the best scary movies to watch and hanging with your two best friends! But it's safe to say that the thing poking behind your back isn't a knife…according to Gojo.

𝑾𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒍𝒚 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒍𝒖𝒃!!

Would you wish to be tagged? Please lmk in the replies or in my inbox!

Accepting the first 50 ppl ; still open!!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ⋆♱✮♱⋆ These tales have been transcribed and written by the original poster (me). Do not steal, edit, copy/plagiarize, or post any of my works on your own accounts, in or out of this app. Please and thank you.

[deikshen]

The idea of Shang Qinghua as a fallen God was hitting me HARD-

I mean, he was some kind of civil God in the heavens, even then recognized for his prose, for the epic tales that would later become a reality, giving him the title of prophet, "The God who sees Beyond Time", "The God Who Inks the Pages of Destiny."

He rose from the lowest ranks as an adjunct god to an important position, becoming one of the most recognized and venerated civil gods of the heavens -he always responded to all the offerings, the one who appeared most in dreams, the one who solved the most situations with his own hands. The civil god with the most temples, the one to whom incense and prayers were given before the imperial exams, the one to whom even those learning to write gave small offerings in search of his erudition to learn faster.

So, something happened. Did he betray the heavens? It was discovered that he had risen to his position through corrupt means? Did he get into a debate with some vengeful martial god? The stories could be many, but the result is always the same: the civil god fell. Where he once had hundreds of temples, now they didn't even offer him incense. And Shang Qinghua, there, bored, was simply... tired. People remembered him for his stories, so he could never know the sweet embrace of death. Turned into a folk tale, his own stories, written in his own hand, being repeated and reproduced in theaters for centuries. When would this martyrdom end?

Never, apparently. And Shang Qinghua writes. He writes stories that are replicated across civilizations. He sees entire demonic races born and die. He writes about an emperor of the three realms, a heavenly demon, with a harem of beauties, a destiny, a prophecy surrounding a sword, and that only pure love could save martyred hearts blackened by fear and misunderstanding.

And after a few centuries, finally finds an artifact that will make him forgotten. He's tired. Fed up. It's been a long millennium of loneliness. Shang Qinghua collects every story he ever wrote, hides them in a deep cave, keeps them away from mortals. He burns his abandoned temples. He burns his stories, making everyone forget that there ever was a God who inks the pages of destiny.

And he dies. Finally.

Half a millennium later, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe are on a hike. Some silly honeymoon thing, traveling the world and finding rare beasts and beautiful non-lethal plants. It's an area that was never originally described in PIDW, but Shen Qingqiu is curious; the world is vast, exquisite, stretching out with magnificent magic. And he wants to know everything.

Then he accidentally gets trapped in a silly array and opens a cave. Luo Binghe follows him, desperate, but both of them... well, even if they wanted to leave without investigating, they never could!! It seems to have been closed for a long, long time.

That's how they find a scholar's hiding place. Or so they think. Stacks and stacks of scrolls. Paintings, theater robes, masks. In the middle of the investigation, Shen Qingqiu's breath catches in his throat when, in the characters from a scroll, he reads Xin Mo.

It is difficult to understand the characters ruined by time, but the story is clear. There are prophetic legends about Xin Mo, about Luo Binghe himself (without mentioning his name other than "a baby who emerged from the Luo River with a frozen heart"), and so many, so many things... Shen Qingqiu is perplexed. What the hell is up with all this? Why was it hidden? Who wrote it? Damn, Airplane owes him some VERY good answers.

In his study in the northern palace, Shang Qinghua begins to have a very strong headache. He should go to sleep, he probably strained his eyes too much with all the paperwork, but, uh, for some reason, he really, really want to write something. An idea is starting to form in his head, like when he wrote PIDW in his other life! Maybe it'll be his next bestseller!! He has to seize the opportunity and inspiration when it hits him!!