#a final snippet

[eulogisemeao3]

— this easy thing of sacrifice

for the @momrry-ficfest (last snippet before posting begins!)

subscribe to be notified | ficpost

“Baby…”

Harry opens his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks fiercely. With a weak shake of his head, he blubbers, “Don’t call me that either.”

“Why not?” Louis breathes.

Stubborn, Harry shakes his head.

“Tell me,” he insists.

“When you call me baby, it makes me feel alive again," Harry whispers. "Like it's just me and you and no one else exists. No one I've hurt, no one who needs me."

Louis frowns. Fear still etched into his heart, he doesn't know what to do to solve this.

"You're my baby."

"After everything I've done?"

"I... I don't know, Harry." He admits, "You need to talk to me."

"I'm your baby for the night." He breathes, weak hands grasping onto him. "Can I... be your baby for the night?"

He whispers it like it's something forbidden. Is love forbidden for monsters?

Looking at Harry, Louis doesn't think he could ever deny him anything. These feelings that have crept up on him are dark and obsessive. Louis felt their true nature when he tasted blood on his tongue and craved more; now, as Harry never denies the allegations. Still, Louis craves him. Wants more.

[asofterepilogue]

I know that penelope saying "don't tell me you're not the same person, you're always my husband" is just supposed to be her saying that all she cares about is that he's odysseus and he loves her (and don't get me wrong it IS incredibly sweet and romantic and it makes me tear up a little)

but considering the first thing odysseus does in the musical is commit war crimes and then he just never stops at all, it tickles me to think that she's also saying he's always been a horrible little monster, she's always known, and she thinks the horrors are part of the fun.

[winnies-one-super-crazy-project]

made another shitty little drawing, this time with a shitty little snippet to go with it! 👍

~

“I’m not telling him, Maui.”

Another pointed meow. Grian groaned, exclaiming, “You know why! I know when I get visions, you and cat Pearl can see them too. You’re just trying to be difficult.”

The next noise sounded like a disappointed hiss. Mumbo moved a bit closer, turning the corner to see Grian and Maui, face to face since Maui was sitting on a shelf, actively arguing, though Mumbo had no idea how Grian could understand the cat.

“Don’t give me attitude, young man! I’ll send you off with the Pearls for the week,” Grian threatened.

Maui huffed before seeming to spot Mumbo spying on them, immediately booking it towards him.

Grian jumped, turning just in time to see Maui pointedly meow at the man who’d been eavesdropping.

He went pale, the constellations on his hat shifting once again. When Mumbo just seemed confused, he asked hesitantly, “Hey, you… can’t understand him, right?”

“...no? Why would I be able to understand a cat?” Mumbo asked in confusion.

Grian smirked victoriously as Maui deflated, promptly scooping the cat up and looking him in the eyes as he hummed, “That��s what you get for trying to be a snitch, Maui.”

Maui hissed again, and Grian scowled at him, huffing, “That’s it, you’re going with Pearl.”

The cat in his arms meowed, but Grian exclaimed, “Nope! You lost your chance! Come on.”

He turned, apologizing, “Sorry about him, Mumbo. He won’t bother you again.”

The blond promptly set off, and Mumbo tried to gather his bearings.

He had no idea why on earth the sight of his crush arguing with a cat had been so cute.

[oh-no-its-bird]

On one hand: I know it isn't too smart to advertise exactly what I'm writing when I am, bc it means if/when I inevitably fail to produce it, I'll feel extra bad about it bc people knew I was doing it / might have been expecting to see the final product

On the other hand, I really love the feedback and it does give me more motivation to actually keep going

Anyways.

Anyways uhh. Then off screen, MBJ fights a god and demands to be reincarnated w SQH, which is why we see him as Jun later on.

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

part 1 of a little comic / art sequence that i've been working on! :D it's part tribute, part experimenting with brushes n colors and trying new thingz :]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | ... |

and thus continues my endless quest of spreading the carrot fics like a plague! if you've seen my art floating around you probs already figured that this au holds a very special place in my heart, forever and always!!

if you haven't heard of it, it's a fic series by @crowned-ladybug called carrot soup!! it made me wish i could speak colors and i need more people to share my struggle xd

go check it out if you're into sweet voice lore and qpr level gayness and just wanna feel warm and soft and warm (hurt/comfort my beloved) <333 there are some heavier themes cos everyone's traumatized but they're working through it! be sure to check the tags and stay safe! <3

[wildstar25]

Honeymoon finale - Solution Nine

[G'raha] : "So you have been asked to fight for Solution Nine's entertainment... My love, it's not that I doubt your judgment, but are you sure this is something you should get involved in?" [Arsay]: "If I can use my skills to uplift the people of this place, don't see why I shouldn't, yeah? Plus, I'll need to find something to do while Shtola's investigating the gate." [Y'shtola]: "And here I've been preparing for your inevitable begging to join." [Arsay]: "Even I can admit there's work you do better alone. ..That said, I'll miss you every tick." [Y'shtola]: "I'll be but a call away, dear. What of you, Raha?" [G'raha]: "Likely continuing our in-depth report of the golden city; for the Student's records. Should the opportunity present itself that I may spectate a match featuring my most beloved star however..." [Y'shtola]: "Then you shall ensure you cheer her on with enough fever for the both of us." [Arsay]: "Heh! I'll be sure to keep you apprised of my schedule. ... <sighs> I guess this means our vacation is over. It's been fun, ay? Every moment I share with you both is a memory I will forever treasure; but these past two weeks... I've no words for how wonderful it's been. Shtola, Raha, I love you." [Y'shtola]: "And I, you." [G'raha]: <nods> "Beyond measure." [Arsay]: "Now, with this being our last night of fun and all; I've an idea in mind on how to spend it."

<<prev.

[baambastic]

Mother spoke of Father often.

She spoke of his skills, his resolve, his mind. His greatness. And certainly, he must be a great man, to have won Mother’s affection.

But none of this answered the question that had found its way into Damian’s mind, night after night.

He asked her, once. Why Father’s greatness had no room for she and him.

“My heart,” she’d said, with a kiss upon his brow, “his greatness is for the world, and everyone in it. If our place within it seems so small, it is only because his heart is so very large.”

This answered soothed him, for a time. However, as all children do, Damian found more questions as he grew.

“Mother, why have I never met Father?”

“Because your father has undertaken a great quest, and it takes him far from us.”

“Why do we not go with him?”

“Because, my heart, family is something you return to. If family accompanied your father on his quest, he would never need to come home. So we wait for him, at the end of his quest.”

And so it went. Mother’s answers brought solace, but they invariably planted the seeds of further questions. Until Damian found a question that could not be answered. For the day came when he learned of Father’s other children. Those who joined him not through blood, but something else. His family, accompanying him on his quest.

And Damian could not ask Mother, “If Father has a family with him on his quest, how long must we wait for him to return to us?” He feared the answer, you see. How could the family waiting for Father be as important as the family who had joined his quest, if his quest would never end? Whatever the reason, the truth remained that these other children were with Father, while Damian was not, yet he dearly wished he was.

[chock-and-bates]

Listen…. Imagine that era of max during which the boxing video was made, but now in the medieval au… showing off at a joust for charles… hoping to get a handkerchief

you guys just, like, get me 😅

in honor of another semi-prophetic ask, here’s a snippet under the cut

The same feeling that had filled him the last time he had met Max, back when they were only 16, just a few months shy of Jos Verstappen’s untimely death.

It had been at the Mercedes Coronation Festival, and they not been on good terms.

Max had goaded him throughout the entire festival week, fixated on how Charles would be unable to participate in the tournament. King Binotto had deemed it ‘improper’, forbidding Charles from casting his name in despite him finally being of age to participate in the squires’ mêlée.

Charles had never hated Max more in his life.

He’s been so furious that, for the first time ever, he purposely avoided the other young man instead of confronting him, knowing he was too upset to face Max’s taunts without reacting violently.

As much as he would have enjoyed punching the other boy in the face, such a spectacle would surely only draw more of Binotto’s ire.

Charles couldn’t risk it.

It meant he watched the mêlée with a forced serenity as his friends fought for victory, cheering and clapping as though he was enjoying the festivities, all while howling on the inside as he watched a competition where he should be fighting for the victory.

He’d managed to cover the pain with an empty smile, all too aware of Binotto’s watchful gaze.

But he refused to applaud when it was Max, cursed, wretched Max, who won the whole thing.

As he watched his rival shove off his helmet, raising his victorious fists in the air, Charles’ mask slipped, face twisting into a scowl.

It’s not like it was surprising, Charles bitterly tried to tell himself. Max was the best among them. This result was to be expected, Charles could handle this.

There was no reason to be upset.

But then, as if he could hear Charles’ thoughts, Max decided to give him a reason.

It came when Max was handed an elaborate flower wreathe and told to crown the Squire’s Queen of Love and Beauty.

Max had immediately turned straight to one section of the audience, as if he already had someone in mind, already knew exactly where they were sitting.

His eyes went directly to Charles.

And Charles… Charles felt like a stone was dropped in his stomach as he watched his rival walk towards him.

He told himself Max wouldn’t…

The other boy came to a stop in front of him, and with a small smirk and burning glint in his eyes, slowly raised the flower wreathe to present it to Charles.

[rosy-crow]

I really understand him. I fall in love with every video game boss that brutally kills me after I thought I was fully decently leveled up.

[hedwig221b]

All these asks about pirate sterek aus and now I'm watching The Pirates of the Caribbean bc of reasons and and and

This Davy Jones/Callypso storyline drives me completely insane, it always did, and of course I'm thinking about sterek and I'm thinking (stay with me) that storyline + New Moon situation where Derek leaves but at the same time obviously leaves his heart with Stiles (not literally but still) AND THEN there was this Edward's quote "look after my heart - I've left it with you"

I am happy to announce that I have officially lost it, more in the tags

[bluemerakis]

yall are gonna lose your shit when i get to properly working on this. it’s been an ongoing idea i’ve had in mind since jan and i have the entire thing planned out but just need to get to writing it. it’s gonna be extremely lengthy (going back to my yapper roots) and im so fucking proud of the concept. can’t wait to start it 🙏

[larkwinged]

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒 𝐅. 、𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

PROFILE. a self-righteous knight who is too willing to throw their life away, and too eager to charge into battle. underneath their stubborn exterior, they are riddled with the pressure of upholding a family title that has long been lost to time.

FULL NAME. artemis elise fröhlich

PRONOUNS. they / them

GENDER. fem-presenting non-binary

AGE. early twenties

HEIGHT. 5”1

BIRTHDAY. november 12th

OCCUPATION. knight

AFFILIATION. knights of favonius

ELEMENT. pyro

CONSTELLATION. columba bellicosi

WEAPON TYPE. sword — “herald of the dawn”

Now stripped of its original purpose as a vessel to store all the memories of an ancient god king, this sword has been passed down in the Fröhlich family since the dawn of time.

Once wielded by the god of memories herself, this sword was blessed by the winds and presented as a gift to her youngest child upon the morn of their knighting ceremony.

“You, who represent the grace and bravery of humanity,” said the Queen, “take this and go. Become a pillar of hope to those wallowing in the darkness, and guide the lost onto a chivalrous path. You, the Dovewing Knight.”

And so, the first Dovewing Knight set out, protecting the people of Cairnfelle and standing tall as a beacon of hope, just as they were requested.

At the edge of the world, when the brilliance of Cairnfelle collapsed and the mountains crumbled, the sword found its way tumbling back into the hands of its previous owner to defend her honor, and upkeep her legacy until the final trumpet sang … announcing her defeat.

With no definite home, the sword lay in the ruins of its kin, preserved well by the Anemo Archon and his will — until the day it found its way into the waiting hands of the inheritor of an ancient title.

• demo music concepts. one two three

• ENG voice claim : keath ósk as cole seymour from yaelokre’s “meadowlark” project

• JP voice claim : marina inoue as armin arlert from attack on titan

CHARACTER STORY 1: eastward of eden

It is true that Artemis has long held resentment towards their older sister and past caretaker, Lilith. As a child, Artemis was refused of many things — including choosing their own clothes, partaking in certain activities, and having their own privacy. There wasn’t much they were allowed to do, and even the hobbies they enjoyed ended up ruined by Lilith’s excitement and pushy nature.

To this day, Lilith is unaware of the mental anguish she caused her siblings over the course of their entire childhood. However, in her own eyes, she has done no such thing, and has succeeded at being a “mother.”

Many citizens have told her, “My, you exercise much control over them,” and yet, she has failed to see the error in her ways. It is not entirely her fault, as she was forced into the role of a mother when she wasn’t ready for such a task. Even though she failed in many aspects of her parenting skills, there was one thing she has always truly succeeded at: caring deeply for her family.

However, no amount of love could undo the years of fighting and hurtful words thrown around between the siblings.

CHARACTER STORY 2: legacy

Long ago, in the days of yore, the archaic land of Mondstadt had been ruled by a monarch older than Decarabian. Her rule was rumored to last longer than his, and her birth is now nothing but scattered fragments along the wind.

When the Queen of the North Wind descended and claimed Mondstadt as her home, a mighty kingdom formed under her feet. Small huts grew to larger, firmer homes, and gargantuan cathedrals made of marble were erected in her honor. Trumpets blew, the wind howled, snow fell, and mountains as high as the heavens towered above humanity.

In later years, the prospering kingdom of Cairnfelle was officially born. Serving as a haven for travelers and poets alike, the kingdom sang with energy as it thrived under Queen Catalina’s guiding hand. The god of memories was exceptionally gentle, with a kind and compassionate heart that moved even the most stoic-faced men to tears. Her words were wise, her complexion glowing, and her promises true.

Cairnfelle, as much as it prospered, gained an enemy from a distant land. With no choice but to face the beast she prodded, the Queen set out to befriend the raging phoenix that had enough of her games. Ever the charming soul, the Queen did not have to do much to make the phoenix bow to her every whim, and before the citizens of Cairnfelle had the chance to acclimate to the visitor, the two were to be wed.

There is not much to say for the years in between the joining of two god kings and the fall of Cairnfelle, but this: Four inexplicably brave and virtuous souls were born from the two gods — four demigod knights who carved the way for the future of Mondstadt: The Four Archangels.

The Blair Family — the origin of the Fröhlichs, is no longer the raging flame of life it had once been, but a snuffed out ember of its former glory.

Only in passing on the titles of the Four Archangel Knights can the present day Fröhlich family hold tight to what was once a name feared and adored by all.

CHARACTER STORY 3: composition

Many questions have arisen over the years; all pertaining to a certain facet of Artemis’ composition.

“Is it a curse?” They’ve inquired, only to wind up receiving a simple, “I’m not even sure myself!”

However, that it is a small white lie they’ve grown to tell. In fact, Artemis is very much aware of the reason why they consistently find themselves on the brink of death and luckily make it out alive. It is because of the unique composition their ancestor, Lowen, was made of: pure and unbridled wrath.

The story goes as such: In the days of yore, when gods and monsters still yet walked the earth, a beast born of flame and rage took flight. They seared their enemies and allies alike, and roused the hearts of warriors all across Natlan. They utterly refused to lay their past life to rest. In doing so, they made a promise to their newfound family. The wrath that lived inside them was nothing but a blessing, and deserved to be passed on through their children, and future generations. And so, the endless wrath that boiled in their veins was passed on — consuming the lives of their children, and overtaking the brilliant flames that became their descendants.

To be a god’s descendant has always been an honor in the Fröhlich family line… Yet, Artemis — like the direct children of the god of wrath — see it as naught but a curse; For what blessing could bring about destruction and the devastation of any living being in one’s wake.

VISION STORY:

The blistering pyro vision attached to Artemis’ belt was said to be a gift from the gods, and maybe even a gift from the long gone god of wrath themselves.

What else are visions besides gifts from the gods? A tool to wield, and yet another curse Artemis must deal with.

At the young age of eleven, Artemis was sent out on their first escorting mission. It was their first mission given to them by Grand Master Varka, who was elated to test their strength and endurance. Not many were willing to accept an escort from a child — as was the case with the Fontainian aristocrat Artemis was talking their ear off to. However, the man said nothing, as the child’s directional skills were second to none. It was only when they hit a bump in the road that the man questioned Artemis’ capabilities as a knight.

“I should’ve known better than to trust a child!” He yelled, waving his fist in the air as he pushed them aside and ran off ahead by himself in the rain, leaving the young Artemis to fend for themselves amidst a hoard of abyssal monsters.

Although panic was steadily rising throughout their body, they forced themself forward — slashing at every monster with a shaky grip on their sword. The rain poured, sagging their clothes, and dragging their arms down to the dirt. The grip on their sword slipped, as did their footing, and they tumbled to the hard ground with a rough clash.

Their shoulder-piece scratched the bridge of their nose on the way down, and a thick line of blood began to spill from the open wound. A rifthound drew closer, baring its teeth and snapping its jaw as its claws outstretched, striking Artemis across the head. A clap of thunder sounded, and amidst the ringing in their ears, Artemis felt the weight of ten large wooden planks collapse on their back.

Even so, they shakily grabbed their sword, their nails digging into the wet earth, and began to stand. Their blood boiled as a wrath they were only warned about once crept up to the surface, prickling along their skin until it caved inwards, tugging at their ribcage and burning against their racing heart.

In a flash of white and gold, the hoard of rifthounds lay motionless on the grass, their bodies turning to dust as Artemis panted heavily. The wrath inside their veins bubbled, and their vision turned red. It was all consuming. It was destructive, and it was total annihilation. They struck down every monster seeping from an abyssal pylon until finally, they tore the pylon in half with nothing but their blade and their bare hands.

The rain continued to fall as they dropped their sword and collapsed to the ground in a heap of sore limbs and bloodied grass. Their eyes fell close for a moment — at least, what felt like a moment — and when they opened, a shining vision sat amongst the pool of blood left behind by their foes.

Indeed. The god of wrath, whose curse ran rampant in their veins, rewarded them with yet another “gift.”

𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

• hobbies: When they are home in Dornman Port enjoying their days off, they like to wind down by practicing the art of crochet. Not only is it soothing to sit by a windowsill while the afternoon breeze filters into their bedroom, it is also a hobby their late mother held dear. By partaking in this hobby, they feel closer to their mother, and can preserve her memory longer. Another hobby is sports. Artemis can often be found playing with the kids in the port during vacations.

• beliefs: The Fröhlich family have always dedicated their lives to the protection of Mondstadt, and hold a firm worship to a god king who has long been dead. Although they have accepted Barbatos as their new savior, they still hold their original god close to their hearts. Artemis has naturally followed this belief and considers their worship of the god of memories their religion. During rough times, they find solace in a temple far north and meditate there for as long as they deem necessary. Once a month, they offer up a few of their most important memories— a ritual that has been passed down in the Fröhlich family for over 3000 years.

(This act of offering up memories is akin to the way some worshippers will offer animal sacrifices to the god they serve.)

• about — fate: Artemis is a firm believer that fate will guide the worthy and ultimately lead everyone onto the path they are destined to walk. However, they do not include the meddling of gods and higher beings into this equation. They believe that fate is its own entity and not dictated by the Archons nor Celestia. It acts of its own accord, and the gods are mere victims of fate, as well. Not even Celestia will be spared.

• about — death: Artemis believes that death is a stepping stone to a greater afterlife. Akin to their many family members, they believe that life is temporary, and death is eternal. When one dies, they are not truly dead; for they are shedding their mortal shell and accepting their true form, which is the soul. The soul will live on forever in the afterlife, while the physical body is nothing more than a temporary shell to house said soul. With this belief, the Fröhlich family does not fear death, but welcomes it with open arms— greeting it like an old friend.

[charming-doodles]

Happy Holiday Truce @jackdaw-sprite !!! (And a happy new year~)

I kinda smushed two Lost Time prompts and was inspired by two posts you tagged as Lost Time for inspiration since I've never really written or drawn art exploring Danny and Clockwork's relationship before. (Hope that's ok xp) I hope you like it ><

Danny raced through the Zone, struggling to reach Clockwork's lair as ghost after ghost delayed him, picking a fight with what Danny's core quietly noted was motivated by desperation.

Desperate to what? Beat him to the ground?

No, that wasn't it.

His core hummed with... discomfort??? Unsatisfaction??? None of these ghost were giving him what he wanted.

What did he want?

Danny didn't know. Didn't have time to think as he blasted away one of his rouges, confusion bubbling when Pandora of all ghosts seemed to bow at her defeat. Although, it wasn't like she was putting much effort into their fight. She seemed only amused. A quiet acceptance lingering in her eyes as he slowly floated away from her.

"I understand I can't have you. Not with how your cores call for each other."

...what?

He didn't stick around for an answer. A desperate need like no other pulling him towards Clockwork. Idly, as he finally reached Clockwork's lair, a conversation he had with Clockwork resurfaced.

"Ugh, that's the third time this week that Skulkers broken his promise not to attack during school hours! And it's only Tuesday!" Clockwork simply smiled in amusement as Danny ranted about his day.

"But as I recall, you've successfully ended the fight before the Fentons showed up with minimal damage. You're improving. What is there to complain about?"

Danny snarled but pulled back, startled at his harsh reaction, hands slapping his mouth closed. Where did that come from?

"Sorry, it's just that..." He growled softly, flexing his hands into fists, "Lately these fights have been feeling so... UGH lame!"

"Lame?"

"Yeah! Lame." He huffed, looking away from Clockwork, knowing he was laughing at his childish insult.

"Poor thing." Danny's core bubbled at the insult. Clockwork raised his brow towards Danny, the ghostling's irritability easy to read with how little control he has in hiding his core's projections. "Is the lame fights to blame for your irritability or does the baby ghost need a bedtime?"

"BEDTIME?!" He stuttered at the offense, his core surged at the insult. He groaned. "Don't tell me you want to pick a fight, too! That's what everyone seems to want from me lately! At least you'll be a challenge."

Clockwork's eyes pierced right through his soul and Danny involuntarily shivered with fear.

"Perhaps tomorrow."

"Tsk- Perhaps tomorrow." Danny mocked. "Scared you'll lose?"

"No." He smiled a little, "I'd like to see their desperation as they fight for guardianship one last time. I let this go on long enough."

Guardianship. His core hummed with recognition. Expectation.

This was it. What was it? He wouldn't be alone anymore! Since when was he alone? He just had to prove himself! But why??

He entered Clockwork's lair with a grimace, irritated and tired from all the ghosts attacking him since their last conversation. Everyone understood what they were fighting for except him. Would Clockwork even explain himself after?

He didn't have much time left to think, when Clockwork swung at him. His core hummed with excitement, wild green eyes meeting calm, piercing red.

Game on.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Silvio really became the "do you need a dog? I can bark" meme ... we've come full circle now 🤭

[voxofthevoid]

As the oneshot marathon continues, here's Attticwife Sukuna Wednesday #1—this is also unlikely to have another WIP Wed entry, though I haven't finished it. It's 12k and counting, but it shouldn't be much higher than 15k.

I've talked a bit about this fic here, but the basic premise is a no-powers twin!sukuita setting where Sukuna tries out serial killing for a hobby, Yuuji locks him up in their basement in response, and nine years later, Gojou (dating Yuuji) stumbles upon the aftermath.

This snippet—and most of the fic—is Gojou PoV of sukuita. I've snuck in a whole lot of fuckery in the existing 12k, and the following bit should be a decent sample of the same ✨

“I’m dying to know something else though. Care to guess?”

Yuuji blinks, eyes darting back to Satoru’s face. “What is it?”

“How, exactly, does your brother have an opinion on your…dick game?”

Yuuji freezes like a deer in the headlights. “Um.”

Muffled laughter makes it past his hands.

Each reaction is telling in its own way. But Satoru knew the answer before he asked the question.

“Pound of flesh, huh,” he murmurs. “Have you been fucking him this whole time?”

Yuuji looks down. “I haven’t done…that since we got together. Actually together, not—not what we were doing before.”

“Fair enough,” Satoru allows. “Not like I was only fucking you back then either.”

Yuuji nods, as unperturbed by that as all the times Satoru stripped naked for him with other people’s marks littering his body. What always gave him away was the touch. By the time he was done, every single of those marks would be buried under a fresh layer of bruises, all hot and stinging. It was never subtle, but there was something quiet and resigned about that claim, like he’d never ask for more than what Satoru offered no matter how badly he wanted it.

In the end, Satoru was the one who couldn’t stand to share.

“Shit,” Yuuji hisses, snatching his hand back. “Asshole!”

Sukuna grins up at him, his teeth stained red. “Your own damn fault for getting distracted.”

Yuuji just shakes his head, frowning at the blood seeping out of the side of his palm. It doesn’t look like a bad wound, but it says a lot that Sukuna managed to break skin at all.

“Most people hit a mental wall when they try to bite through human flesh,” Satoru says, drawing both brothers’ eyes. “Then again, you made a rather inglorious career out of it. Shouldn’t you be out of practice by now?”

Sukuna leers. “How would I be, when my dearest little brother is so accommodating.”

“Sukuna,” Yuuji starts, a warning in his voice—

“You don’t actually believe him, do you?” he asks Satoru. “You can’t be that much of a fucking cuck—”

Yuuji’s bleeding hand slaps back down over Sukuna’s mouth, the other joining it a second later, and this time, his fingers dig into his brother’s cheeks until the skin there blanches white.

“Shut up,” Yuuji growls.

The sound sinks predictably into Satoru’s blood. He clears his throat.

Guilty eyes dart over to him. “Satoru, I—”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Yuuji?”

“No! I wouldn’t. I—” He’s cut off by more muffled laughter, Sukuna’s whole body shaking with it. “Sukuna, I swear to god—”

One of Yuuji’s hands slips down, slotting against the underside of Sukuna’s jaw and pressing up. The laughter turns into a choking noise, and Sukuna’s eyes bulge above Yuuji’s restraining hands.

Satoru takes in that easy, remorseless violence with a strange feeling in the pit of his belly.

“Yuuji,” he calls softly.

Yuuji’s hands gentle. He doesn’t look at Satoru.

“I didn’t lie,” he says. “I haven’t fucked him. I just…gave him a hand sometimes. He doesn’t—he doesn’t have anyone else.”

“Because of you,” Satoru points out, trying to process this new revelation—kinder than Yuuji lying, straying, except for all the ways it’s not kind at all.

“Because of me,” Yuuji admits quietly.

“Taking responsibility, huh.” Satoru rocks back on his heels, taking in Yuuji’s kneeling form and Sukuna’s splayed one as if mere sight will bare the secrets of their bodies. “Is that how you justify it?”

For a long moment, Yuuji says nothing, does nothing, just stares down at his brother’s angry face with eyes so blank that he can’t be seeing anything at all.

“I haven’t tried to justify anything in a long time, Satoru,” Yuuji says finally, his tone almost alien. “You’re the first person who’s made me want to.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh past the sudden tightness in his chest. “You can’t sweettalk your way out of this, you know.”

“Yeah,” Yuuji breathes. “I know.”

Satoru has a thing for monsters. It’s not a conscious choice, but it’s undeniable all the same.

Like calls to like.

He loved Suguru; a part of him will always love Suguru, maybe because he’ll never fail anyone as thoroughly as he failed Suguru. No one has loved Tōji except Megumi’s mother, and that didn’t work out too well for anyone involved, but for a while there, he was the realest thing in Satoru’s life.

They’re two of the worst souls he’s ever met on this bitch of an earth.

And Yuuji—

Yuuji’s probably the tamest monster Satoru has loved—and also the most terrifying.

“Show me,” he says.

Yuuji raises his head, blinking at Satoru with suspiciously red eyes. “Satoru?”

“Show me,” Satoru repeats, “how you take care of your rabid animal of a brother.”

There’s a slight fuss from Sukuna, easily, almost absently smothered.

“You…want to watch me fuck him?” Yuuji asks, his adorable look of confusion utterly at odds with everything else about this situation.

Not quite what Satoru meant but— “Sure. Why not? Give me the full experience.”

“You’d hate that,” Yuuji says, still so cutely baffled. “Satoru, you know you’d hate that.”

“Undoubtedly, but that hasn’t stopped you till now.”

Yuuji flinches. “I—”

“If you apologize, I might just draw this knife.”

Yuuji’s mouth clacks shut, his lips pressing into a thin line. “…That’s fair.”

“You won’t stop, will you?”

“What?”

“Don’t play the fool now,” Satoru warns. He nods at Sukuna, not bothering to check whatever those eyes are showing now. “It’s your twin. You’ve kept him like this for almost a decade. You’re not going to stop fucking him no matter how sweet you find my ass.”

“It’s not about—”

“Exactly,” Satoru cuts in. “It’s not about sex. It’s not about the body. No need to look so horrified, Yuuji—I know a thing or two about vices like that.”

“What are you saying?” Yuuji asks, the horror giving way to something that’s equal parts hopeful and cautious. “What do you want, Satoru?”

“You,” Satoru says simply. “I want you—and everything that entails. Show me what kind of a monster you are, Itadori Yuuji. I promise not to scream.”

Yuuji’s lips part on a trembling exhale. He leans forward, an arm rising to stretch out toward Satoru—

“Amazing,” an unwelcome voice pipes up. “You’re as fucked in the head as he is.”

“Says the serial killer,” Satoru counters. “You should be glad you’re in such good company.”

“I’d rather be in hell.”

“Aren’t you already? Hell is other people, after all.”

Sukuna’s red-stained mouth twists into something nasty—

“Alright,” says Yuuji. Satoru’s entire attention snaps to him, and even without looking, he knows that Sukuna has done the same. “I’ll show you.”

“Oi, brat—”

It’s not a harsh hand over the mouth that silences Sukuna this time but a much gentler touch on his cheek, cradling it for an electric instant before Yuuji lowers his head, his intent unmistakable.

Satoru grits his teeth so hard that his whole jaw throbs, the ache bolting up to his temples.

Yuuji kisses his brother.

And gets bitten for his trouble, rearing back with blood on his mouth.

“Careful,” Satoru hears himself say. “I’d hate to lose your tongue to…that.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Lose my tongue?” Yuuji murmurs, his tone some strange new thing. He licks his lips—and the blood there vanishes, leaving behind glistening spit. “I think you’re a little confused, Satoru.”

It’s a struggle to drag his eyes away from Yuuji, the faint smile on his mouth and heavy-lidded slant of his eyes a siren call, but Satoru makes himself look at Sukuna instead. He finds a redder, bloodier smear—but this time, the blood is coming from the torn flesh of Sukuna’s own lip.

“Ah.” It comes out low and raspy, scraping his throat. “Carry on then.”

“Alright,” Yuuji says, so gently that you could almost be forgiven for thinking him docile.

Satoru swallows, trying and failing to wet his dry mouth, as Yuuji shifts sinuously onto all fours, and for a wild, burning moment, he thinks Yuuji will crawl to him, but it’s the black strap wound around Sukuna’s middle that gets Yuuji’s attention. There seems to be some sort of buckling mechanism built into the side of the bed, wedged between the mattress and the frame, and it only takes a couple of quick, sure motions to loosen the strap.

Yuuji tosses the freed end to the other side of the bed, where it hits the floor with a dull thud but stays connected to the sister mechanism on that side.

It’s not new knowledge, but it still sinks in a little deeper, the awareness of the sheer amount of thought and effort that has gone into this gilded cage.

Yuuji’s had a lot of time to make his brother’s prison both convenient and comfortable.

He wonders if Sukuna’s ever managed to forget that it’s also meant to be his tomb. He doesn’t seem to be the type to favor ignorance, but nine years is a very long time to live a life like this.

“You’re freeing him,” Satoru says, half statement and half question, when Yuuji reaches for a cuffed ankle.

“Oh, no.” Gentle eyes drift up to Satoru, and the mouth underneath curves sweetly up. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow. “If your brother gets free, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

“I think I’ll eat your eyes first,” Sukuna comments very casually.

Yuuji flicks his big toe. “You’re not eating anyone. Don’t mind him, Satoru. It’s just talk.”

One look at Sukuna and Satoru is very sure that he does, in fact, want to eat him piece by piece and not in the fun, sexy way. But intent isn’t the same as opportunity. Satoru flashes him a toothy smile, getting a bloody snarl in return.

“If you say so,” he tells Yuuji. “You are the animal expert here.”

“Don’t provoke him either,” Yuuji chides absently, clearly more focused on loosening the cuff.

[yoshifan456]

Do you ever think about the fact that if Benji could fool a lie detector for six months, he may have also been able to lie (if he so wanted) the the entity in DR?

Because I do.

Imagine there is another bomb in FR, this time for Ethan. Same idea, same questions. Ethan tries to answer the 'care about the most'-question with 'his friends' but it fails. Benji is confused and starts to ramble about how it may be Ilsa or Grace, but when Ethan says 'Benji', the gears turn. There is a collective 'oh fuck'-moment as they realize Benji will be target no1 now. Yada yada, they kill the entity, they ignore this confession as emotianlly healthy people do yada yada.

Until, when all the dust has settled, Benji smiles warmly at Ethan and says:

"You could have just lied to that bomb you know. Did I myself when I had to answer that same question."

And they kiss and live happily ever after.