#minor temporary or unlikely)

[seilon]

I wish I could tell every young person with a uterus (especially with bad cramps and/or dysphoria and/or depression, etc) that there is a decent chance they just straight up don’t need to live with that. don’t let the stigma surrounding contraceptives and the expectation that you should just ride it out and suffer win. for the love of god if there’s a chance you can lighten or even stop your period and it’s symptoms all-together, unless there’s a legit health concern, your doctor should at least make you aware of that option. I want every young person to know that “birth control” is not just for birth control and it has the potential to make your life infinitely easier to live. do not give in to anti-pill propaganda im serious

[buckyalpine]

Want You

18+ Minors dni 

Love this. This was literally in the works and then I see this request in the middle of me writing it, chefs kiss.  I love jealously, idk what’s wrong with me but it scratches an itch I cannot describe.

Warnings: FLUFF, pregnancy, Smuuttt (daddy kink, breeding kink,) angst if you squint but honestly not really. 

Word count: 1.6k

The best part is Sharon was so certain Bucky would never chose you. Bucky had a type and it wasn’t you so imagine her surprise when he’s completely smitten by you. And by surprised, I mean complete and utter denial.

She figured it’s just a phase, maybe Bucky is bored, wants to try something new and soon or later, he’ll come to his sense and dump you, it’s just a matter of time.

Except.

The way he is with you is unlike anything else. PDA galore and this is from the man who retches at physical touch.

Bucky’s hands are always on you and the more comfortable het gets, the friskier his touches become. He has you on his lap during movie night, one hand up your shirt, softly stroking your skin. His arms are wrapped around you, cuddling you to his chest like a teddy bear, not giving a shit what movie is on.

All he cares about is cuddling his girl in his arms at all times.

He gets pouty. Sharon nearly loses her shit when she sees how soft he is for you. You can’t even get up and get a drink of water without him trailing behind you or jutting his bottom lip out when you tell him he can stay, you’ll just take a sec.

“But I can come with you”

“Bucky I’m just going to the kitchen”

“I’m coming with you”

His head rests on your shoulder as you make yourself some tea, his eyes closed, arms around you waist, he truly doesn’t ever want to be anywhere else.

And the names. Any girl he’d been with before had only been referred to by name but with you?

“Good morning my baby”

“I missed you babygirl”

“Come cuddle with me bubba”

“How’s my babydoll”

“Where’s my baby” Sharon saw red the day he was going around looking for you, hardly realizing (nor giving a fuck) he didn’t use your name and just went around asking where his baby was. Everyone thought it was the absolute sweetest thing on the planet, love stuck Bucky, happily wandering looking for his babydoll (who was napping in his Henley on his bed). Sharon strongly disagreed.

All hell nearly breaks loose when she comes back from a temporary transfer. She figured Bucky’s infatuation would have died down by now. So imagine her surprise when she sees…

You were fast asleep on the couch, your back flush against his chest. Bucky nuzzled his face into your neck, his hand softly rubbing your little baby bump under your shirt. He couldn’t stop kissing you, giving you gently little kisses, careful not to wake you up while he caressed your tummy, he thought he was in love before but now it was in over drive.

Sharon considered quitting. Because it only gets worse.

You’re almost always in Bucky’s arms. He’s always carrying you. He won’t let your feet touch the ground, not when you’re having his baby. And fuck, he loves talking about it.

“I’m going to be a dad!”

“You think our baby will have super strength?”

“What do you mean I can’t get them a mini knife set”

He’s doting on you constantly, feeding you, rubbing your feet, kissing each of your toes before massaging up your calves. He never lets you shower alone, he’s always there to help you, making sure you don’t slip. He has you lay down on the soft sheets, grabbing your favourite lotion, his hands working in gentle circles, massaging it into your skin. He kisses your stretch marks, taking his time moisturizing your skin, his hands skimming over the little kicks; he loves feeling his little one move inside.

Sharon had a resignation letter ready (thought not submitted) after Bucky took his shirt off at the gym. He’d been shirtless plenty of times so she knew exactly what he looked like, memorizing every scar, and dip of his skin. So this was fucking new.

Bucky’s fists flew to the punching bag, his chest glistening with sweat, beading down his pecs, right over where he had your name tattooed, another tattoo dedicated to his little baby boy etched on his shoulder.

“Y-you got a tattoo?” She tried to give him a flirty smile, her hand coming to trace over the tattoo, her skin flushing in embarrassment when Bucky took a step back.

“Yeah” Bucky stuck to giving her one word answers, in utter disbelief she was still trying to make a move even after he’d had a baby with you.

“ Nice ink cyborg” Sam smirked, hoping to egg Sharon on, loving the way she angriliy huffed, trying to pretend she didn’t care.

“For my angels” Bucky smiled shyly, his cheeks blushing, this wouldn’t be the only piece he had for you.

Stop here if you just wanted some fluff. Continue if you want some spice.

Oh she doesn’t just over hear it. She saw it. It was her fault tbh.

You stayed back while the team had left for an international conference, leaving the entire compound free for just you and a certain super soldier. Sam’s sister had happily agreed to babysit for the weekend to give you both some alone time. And what a fucking time you had.

After learning Bucky wasn’t going, Sharon had managed to find a way to stay behind, figuring this would be the best time to get him alone, completely unaware that you were still at the compound. She did her makeup, throwing on a sheer dress and foregoing a bra, making her way down stairs…when she heard….the fuck?

The sounds of skin slapping on skin echoed through the hall from the kitchen, pornographic moans bouncing off the walls.

Her lips curled into a smirk, even if Bucky was fucking someone else, it was nice to know he wasn’t as loyal as everyone though. He clearly got bored of you, just waiting for the chance for you to leave before he could feel some type of satisfaction.

She crept down the hall, nearly collapsing, watching the both of you, stark naked, fucking on the kitchen counter. Bucky had thrown off all your clothes, bending you over the island, his palm pressing in between your shoulder blades, against the cold marble.

“Y-you like this, huh baby, you love daddy’s cock filling you up? Smile for the camera mama, lemme see that pretty little face”

Sharon felt light headed, noticing Bucky’s phone propped up, his hand coming to tug your hair, your eyes rolling all the way back. Bucky spanked you, causing you to cry out before coming down to kiss your shoulder, thrusting into you harder.

“Look at how fucked out you are baby, how you gonna handle my cum princess, already so fucking gone” Bucky groaned, his cock throbbing as you moaned, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.

“Gonna put another baby in you mama, fuck, can’t wait to see you pregnant again” Bucky’s balls felt heavy, slapping against your clit with each stroke.

“J-J-ames!” You cried out feeling the band tighten in your belly, your orgasam approaching you hard and fast.

“Mmm say my name doll, say my fucking name” He snarled, pulling his cock out, throwing you over his shoulder, moving to the dining table.

There’s no way…he wouldn’t actually…oh fuck. Sharon didn’t know why she didn’t just leave but she couldn’t look away as Bucky set up his phone again. He carefully crawled on top of you, right in the middle of the table (thank fuck for Stark technology, it was built to withstand just about anything), spreading your legs, slamming into you in a single stroke.

“Kinky little baby, wasn’t this your fantasy princess? For me to fuck you right on the dining table” Bucky let out a dark chuckle, brining your thighs up higher so he could hit a deeper angle. You nearly sobbed, your head thrown back against the table as he slammed into you, his hand cradling your head so you wouldn’t get hurt.

“James I-I’m gonna-

“I know mama, squeeze my cock baby, milk it, take my cum” Bucky moaned, nipping and biting your skin, leaving dark bruises in their wake. “There’s so much cum baby, gonna make such a mess all over the table”

“JAMES” You clawed at his back feeling his hand come down to play with your clit, his pace growing sloppy.

“Babygirl….m’gonna knock you up baby, you want daddy’s cum?”

“Wan’ daddy’s cum Bucky, wan’ it!” You whined and cried out, your walls spasming around him, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he started to fill you, his cum leaking out of you, dripping through your folds and onto the table.

“So. Much. Cum mama, its so fucking much” Bucky whimpered, his sensitive cock still throbbing in your silky walls. “Fuck, I love you” He grinned down at you, letting his body relax for a bit, as you played with his hair. He let his phone continue recording, he loved these moments just as much.

The whole compound was a mess. Bucky had spilled his cum into you in the gym, the showers, the balcony, the lab, the elevator, and finally in your room, under the covers, his hips slowly rolling against you, taking his time to savour your body.  

Sharon moves to a different department. But it didn’t help. Imagine her surprise when she sees Bucky’s arms full of babies, a little toddler on his shoulder, sleeping twins in both arms, with you by his side, your hand resting on your little baby bump.

Of course she’s still waiting for the day where he’ll lose interest.

And he never does.

Not on the day you got married.

Not on the day you had your fourth baby.

Not on the day you had your fifth.

Not today.

Not ever.

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987​ @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth   @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen   @ashenc-blog   @buckybarnessimpp  @potatothots @goldylions   @high-functioning-lokipath  @morganemorgane @peaches1958 @kingfleury @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82   @gublur  

[porcelain-dollbones]

so- if gender is completely innate, unmalleable and obvious, it shouldnt need protection or maintanence. the existence of trans people could be considered temporary and unlikely to have any lasting effects on gender, so not worth making the focus of hatred or campaigning.

if gender is vulnerable to manipulation or dilution, one would have to argue that current ideas of male and female and their associated roles and stereotypes are worth protecting and preserving. this is fine if youre an open conservative, but should be incompatible with feminism, radical or otherwise.

if gender is not malleable or alterable in the long term, it becomes necessary to identify a material harm caused by people who transition. if trans women are transitioning to access the privileges of women, that necessitates claiming that women are privileged over men, enough so that it is worth abandoning the privileges of malehood, which is certainly not a viable radical feminist position. if the contention is access to lesbians, that would necessitate ignoring trans women who exclusively date other trans women or men, and setting aside that there are fewer lesbians than straight women.

the claim that trans men are harmed by undergoing hormone replacement, mastectomy or hysterectomy seems to fly in the face of the essential, inalterable gender- these surgeries could not have meaningfully changed them, if the argument is that one remains a woman no matter what. the only viable claim then is "some number of women might be tricked into having consensual hysterectomies they later regret", which seems dubious in feminist terms and surely too minor a concern for women's liberation to be chosen as its key platform.

there is no liberation for women to be found in the reinforcement of gender as an inalterable cage, or as an institution worth preserving at all costs in its current form.

[residenthughes]

mad at me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 3.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)

summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.

notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵‍💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333

It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.

A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.

Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.

You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.

You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips. 

You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.

The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.

“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air. 

“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary. 

You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”

“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”

“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.” 

Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”

You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”

“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.

Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”

You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”

The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.

His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”

This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.

“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”

You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”

“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”

“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs. 

You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”

“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”

“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”

“I don’t follow.” 

Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”

Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.” 

To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable. 

Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”

He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin

You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”

The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster. 

His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”

This is a fairly new playing field for you two -  a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.

Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.

As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.

“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.

“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”

Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”

You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you. 

Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how. 

“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily. 

“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”

And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost. 

“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”

You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view. 

Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.

He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you. 

Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue. 

“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”

Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over. 

Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”

“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”

He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”

You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”

He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth. 

Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high. 

Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling. 

Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.” 

“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.

“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

[nariism]

*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR

pair. itadori yuji x reader

synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.

content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman

wc. ~4.4k

NOVEMBER 1 2018

You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.

"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.

Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.

You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.

Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.

The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.

He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.

And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.

Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.

"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."

Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.

"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.

"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."

"You're not evil, Yuji."

"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.

You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.

"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"

"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.

"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"

His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.

You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.

"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."

You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.

You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.

The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.

"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.

His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"

"I can't until you do."

"That's stupid," he tells you.

It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.

A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.

It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.

You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.

There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.

"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.

"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.

You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.

"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.

"Huh? 2 was way better."

"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.

"2 had the best special effects though."

Your body shifts under his blanket.

"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)

His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.

"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.

Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.

"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.

NOVEMBER 2 2018

You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 

You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.

Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.

When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.

"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.

He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.

You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.

He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.

You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.

"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"

He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."

You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.

"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"

He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.

"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."

Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.

"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."

"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"

Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.

"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.

The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.

You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.

Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.

You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.

A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.

To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.

Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.

The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.

Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.

He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.

You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.

"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.

It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.

The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.

It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)

At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.

Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.

His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.

"What?" You ask.

"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.

"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.

He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."

You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.

Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.

An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?

"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.

He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."

You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.

For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.

(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)

Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.

You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.

If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.

"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.

But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.

Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.

Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.

He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 

You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.

Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.

He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.

You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.

It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?

Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.

Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.

"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."

There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.

"Like I could just... reach out and—"

"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.

When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.

It was nice to have you fawning over me.

You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.

"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.

(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.

So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)

NOVEMBER 3 2018

The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.

His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.

Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.

It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.

"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."

"I can fight!"

"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."

Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.

"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"

Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.

You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"

Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.

"We will."

You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.

“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”

You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”

She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.

“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”

“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”

You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.

Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.

“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.

You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.

You watch as they pack up their things.

Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.

Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.

"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"

You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?

He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.

A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."

I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.

He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.

When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."

Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.

But you stop.

"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 30

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 30 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. 6th panel is a video.

“I can do it, you know,” you insisted again

“Not having it. I should make sure you’re getting the best care.”

You arched a brow at him, sitting stiffly beside him, not really seeing how it was easier when he said, “Prop your legs up on my lap.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t explain any further and instead stood up, carrying you bridal style and propping you on the couch so your back was against the armrest while he gently placed your legs across his lap. “That wasn’t so hard, was it.”

“N-no, but –”

“No buts.”

As he moved around you, you couldn't help but stare at him. His usually intimidating demeanor softened as he meticulously put the ointment on the abrasions on your leg with a cotton swab. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers deft and precise, eyes intense as he focused on his task. The room was silent except for your steady breathing. At that moment, Sukuna's care and attention just took center stage.

“You do this often?” you teased. “With other girls, I mean.”

He shook his head. “Consider yourself special.”

“I’m only special ‘cause you nearly killed me.” You laughed at your own joke, not meaning anything by it, about to swing your legs off of him when he held onto them, his hand quickly but very gently settling on the shin of your right leg. “I…I’m sorry. That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Sukuna leaned towards you, placing his free hand on the backrest. You met his gaze, not liking the turmoil that seemed to swirl in his dark eyes which, you noticed, were flecked with dark garnets and amethysts with the way the sun was shining on him.

“I’ll never hurt you,” he told you softly. He closed his eyes in agitation before flashing you an apologetic smile. “Not intentionally, anyway.”

“Stop saying it that way.”

“Hmm. What way?”

“Like you’re considering the possibility that you would.” You mustered all the courage you had, reached out and cupped his face, making him look at you. “You’ve taken care of me better than anyone so far. I am grateful for that. Don’t ever forget it.”

He placed his hands over yours. “How are you this gracious? It’s unsettling.”

At that, you felt your heart stutter. It’s happening again. “Is that bad?”

Sukuna laughed. “How is that even bad? I swear to god, you worry about the weirdest things. It’s good. It’s just that…”

“Just what?” You withdrew your hands, looking away. That overwhelming feeling akin to being submerged in cold water made its way from your toes to your chest, making it hard to breathe. “People hate me, you know? They hate me because they think I’m just pretending. I acted out once because I was too tired to deal with anyone, and they all started leaving, telling me I’m a –”

He didn’t like what he was hearing. “That’s ridiculous.”

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. “But I admire you, Sukuna. You show everyone the real you, and they like you for it.

Unlike me, you thought, concealing the thought with a smile, but that was short-lived when he said his next words.

“I like you.”

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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240526]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[macaroonff]

YAY okay so Can I pls request an angsty comfort fic where Jungwon comes home from practice and he’s already been having such a bad day and then reader says something small but because he’s already upset she makes him cry and she’s rlly confused why he’s having such a strong reaction when he’s not usually the type to. Then she suggests they go for a walk to the park and he opens up to her and they talk things through

Here you go! I really appreciate a good comfort fic and I hope you like it anon! Thanks for being my first request (❁´◡`❁)

We'll be alright- Yang Jungwon

Y.J.W x gn!reader (Idol boyfriend Jungwon)

↳ Wc: 1.9k

↳Angsty fluff, hurt comfort

♪ Jasmine- DPR Live

By the time Jungwon had reached the familiar door to your shared apartment, he could barely feel his arms from the weight of the backpack he had carried, as though the entire day’s mistreatment was packed in that small vessel. If that wasn’t enough, his back hurt from the excessive dance practice, where even Ni-ki looked fatigued from exhaustion due to the demands of their concert a month later. That coupled with how his entire day went wrong didn’t help him. From burning his fingers while trying to make simple pancakes to packing your sports shoes for his practice which- being two sizes too small- didn’t fit him well. Did he still use them? Yes because he didn’t want to hear anything from the choreographer nor waste time looking for another pair, even if it made his ankles hurt. Did his day also get worse when a bird decided his shirt would be the perfect urinal while he was waiting for a cab back home; after his manager left early to drop the others to the dorm while he had to stay in the longest meeting of his life, discussing concert plans that he knew weren’t feasible? Yes, and he quite literally and metaphorically felt like shit. 

He had already had two weeks of longer days, with his schedule extending beyond what he was used to, longer than the most arduous of comeback preparations. So far, he was just grateful that he hadn’t collapsed from fatigue and that the worst he felt was due to a few minor aches in his body. But today? Today he truly embodied exhaustion, from the physical aches getting exponentially worse, to his mental capacity being drained. Unlike before, he didn’t even have the energy to pretend like his usually stoic self, his head both empty yet throbbing with the entire day’s happenings, affecting his mental peace. He reaches out a fragile finger to ring the doorbell, taking him longer to press it. He leans his head against the door, from where he can hear your footsteps coming closer, and he tries to smile for you, a tiny one settling on his dehydrated lips. You swing the door open, to which he stumbles a little, but gathers himself placing his backpack on the floor, the temporary weight off of him.

You close the door behind him, and see him lean against the wall, removing his shoes with heavy steps, not even bending down. You take in his detached presence, a frown settling on your face, your previous excitement sinking. Jungwon seems to sense this in your disappointed eyes. “Babe it’s movie night,” your exasperated voice brings him out of his thoughts, “you promised you’d buy popcorn from the store?” you ask him, looking down at his empty hands.

You see him take in a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists before he stretches them out. “Let’s do it another day,” he whispers emotionless, pushing past you as he heads towards the bathroom. You’re stunned by this, as despite the increasing distance between the two of you, he’d volunteered to at least continue with movie nights. At first you’d assumed the distance was because of work, like it always was, but unlike before, Jungwon didn’t come ranting back to you about what went wrong, instead he’d silently wash up and go to bed, no goodnights whispered, no kisses bestowed. It was almost like he didn’t love you anymore. You did consider the fact that you might be overthinking it all, but you’d heard of the 'three year rule', the exact stage you were with him at right now. It was hard keeping such insecurities aside when he barely communicated with you.

Him volunteering to make time for you through tonight’s movie night was what eventually broke you away from those thoughts, and you started bubbling with enthusiasm, looking forward to today after an entire week of planning. If after so many days, he couldn’t even care about popcorn, of course you’d feel as hurt as you currently do. Did it not matter to him at all? Was it just you who was so invested in this activity, or the relationship?

“Do you not love me anymore?” you voice out frustrated. You see him pause, his back that is towards you stiffens. He turns around and you see slow-moving teardrops rolling down his face, to which you’re taken aback. “Jungwon?” you hesitate.

“I really want to freshen up, please,” his voice breaks. You remain silent as you watch him walk away again, confused. You sit back down on the sofa, thinking about everything that could possibly be going on in his head.

You lay your head against the warm cushion and close your eyes. What made your usually patient boyfriend this upset? And what wasn’t he telling you? Did he not trust you anymore? It was now time for your head to be swirling with demoralising thoughts. You hear the door unlock, and open your eyes to see your boyfriend's puffy ones, his T-shirt patchy and wet, which you’re not sure is because of his tears or the shower. “Are you busy?” you ask softly, noticing his eyes shift. 

Jungwon felt guilty towards you, and he really didn’t mean to break down in front of you. Furthermore, the fact that you doubted your love meant that there were other underlying issues in your relationship, something he knew the cause for. For the past few weeks, when you’ve been trying to initiate conversation, Jungwon, too depressed and exhausted to say anything, ignored you unintentionally. He felt bad that his work was getting in the way of his love for you, something he promised you, and himself, would never happen. He knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer, and neither could you.

“Not really, I just don’t think I want to watch a movie right now,” he replies, knowing he didn’t have the mental capacity for the thrillers the two of you usually enjoyed.

“Let’s go for a walk then, I think we both need it.” an idea you throw at him, getting up and grabbing your overcoat. He follows you, this time grabbing his jacket and the correct shoes, a matching pair of Converse that he’d bought with you.

Before the two of you had officially started dating, he’d always notice you on his morning walks with Maeum, confident, and joyful, headphones on. From then on, he used your interactions with Maeum as an excuse to initiate conversations, which ended up with him taking you on an official date. Walks were symbolic in your relationship, a dedicated bonding event for the two of you, something you’d subconsciously agreed to. 

Like previous walks, you intended for this one to be just as meaningful, glancing at him in between steps. His tears had dried in the cold air, and his own steps, although still heavy, had become somewhat faster. His hands fiddled with the zip of his hoodie, opening and closing it rapidly, and his hair still wet, had drops seeping into his shirt every time he left it open. 

You realise how your steps become more rapid as you reach the park, the same one where you’d first met him. You weren’t excited per say, you just happened to walk with more urgency, a sense of foreboding settling in your heart. As your rushed steps get you farther away from him, you feel someone’s hold on your wrist. You look back and see his hand that had stopped fidgeting, gently held on to you. His eyes had softened, and he looked at you concerned. “Slow down love,” he says, breaking the silence that had been a bystander on this walk. He pulls you closer, interlacing your finger as you continue to walk at a slower pace until you reach a bench. Jungwon removes his jacket and places it on the bench, motioning for you to sit. Once he’s sat behind you, he looks at you properly, eyes observing every part of your face, following the noticeable question mark imprinted all over. 

“I love you y/n, and I’ve never stopped loving you,” he finally lets out, to which your brows furrow. A part of you is relieved, but also more frustrated, as contradictory as it sounds. You were relieved that he didn’t hate you, and that there was hope in the relationship, but more of you was upset at how his actions didn’t follow that, confused at what made him so disheartened. “Then why have you been so distant? What made you so upset, if not for me?” you ask.

He holds your hand again, taking a deep breath in, releasing a shaky sigh. “Honestly, I’m so exhausted. It’s work that’s got me feeling so muddled. It’s evidently my passion which makes me happy, but at the same time it demands so much of me that there’s none left for me to give to you, or to myself. The past few weeks have been hell, and today feels especially bad. It’s like nothing’s been going my way, starting from burnt breakfast, to the choreographers scolding me for holding everyone else back, to the confusion in the meetings. Everything just feels so burdensome, even though I’m used to it.” he reveals with no pause, letting everything out.

You gulp at this confession, a part of your heart breaking with every word coming out of his mouth. You hated seeing him like this: absolutely dejected. You knew better than everyone how hard he worked, and how hard he tried to make things easier for everyone, reducing their burden, which is why it hurts to see him bottling everything up within himself. You gently put his head on your shoulder, engulfing him in a hug as warm as you can gather. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t know.”

You can feel him smile, and at the same time he sobs a little, tears now collecting on your coat. “It’s not your fault, I was being so selfish,” he replies in between breaths. You rub circles on his back, trying to ease his pain. You feel him relax in your arms and you sigh. “Jungwon, you know you can lean on me right? Please don’t keep things like this to yourself. Please trust me, so we can go through hardships like this together.” 

You hear a soft hmm against your shoulders. He looks back at you, once he’s done crying, and you wipe any tears settled on his cheeks. “How’d I get so lucky?” he whispers as he kisses your eyelids, when you realise that you’d shed a few tears too. You smile, as his lips eventually meet your own. “I’m sorry”s and “it’s okay”s are whispered in conjecture to “I love you”s in between the long kiss, until a dog disturbs the two of you by pawing on your legs. You laugh, and eventually get up. Jungwon stretches as he stands up, his hands thumping his back. “Does it hurt?” you ask concerned. “A little,” he replies shyly. 

“We should get back then, I’ll give you a massage,” you offer, taking his hand in yours. “Really?” he perks up at the thought, his voice becoming louder, as he gets more excited, a stark contrast to an hour ago when he entered home wearily. This time you’ll be going back home together, a sense of calm inhabiting the two of you, confident that it’ll be alright. 

---

[everythingmp3]

𝕀´𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕐𝕠𝕦 .⋅♡ 

adult!Van x fem!reader (smut)

working for Van had just been a temporary thing, but it lead to an intense crush, a painful goodbye, and the inability to move on. a few months later, you run into her at night. she didn’t forget about you either.

minors dni. warnings: slight intoxication, oral, fingering

(disclaimer: kind of long, I just felt like doing something a little more elaborate and fleshed out, hope u enjoy💌)

it had been about four months since you´d last seen Van, but it felt like an eternity. you had worked for her during the summer, just a temporary job to help her out during the busier season, but by the end of August when you had to say goodbye it hurt much worse than you ever expected; the night after your last shift you cried on your way home, unsure how to cope with letting go of her, how to move on from what she´d made you feel.

you two got along immediately, from the very first day you worked for her it was easy and light and lovely, but that connection turned into something deeper very quickly, about two weeks in you realized how screwed you were, how attracted to her you were, how much you missed her during weekends, how she made you forget about all the things going wrong in your life. but you couldn´t do anything about it before it was already fall and you were forced to move on from that brief period of knowing her.

it was a winter night, you´d gone out to a bar with friends, who had just left in an Uber because it had gotten late and they didn´t live around the corner, unlike you. you were just about to leave as well, when you walked by someone and did a double take to see if it was really her, but it was. there she was: Van, leaning against the wall, looking at her phone, her hair glowing beautifully in the light of the neon sign. you´d had a few drinks, so it was easy to just walk up to her and tap her on the shoulder, watching her face break into that familiar smile once she turned to look at you, "oh my god?? hi!" she seemed genuinely glad to see you, offering a tight hug immediately, which made your body heat up, that effect she had on you, bubbling right back up.

she realized you were pretty tipsy, it was endearing to her, seeing you with your guard down like that, all smiley, face glowing, "what are you doing here?" you asked her, which made her laugh, "believe it or not, i do have a few friends", "no, of course, i know, i was just wondering.. maybe you were on a date or something" grinning at her as you said this, she cocked her head, fixing you with a gaze that gave away how charmed she still was by you, "no, i wasn´t on a date. were you?" she asked, teasing a little. you shook your head, "friends. they just left, they took a car, i´ll walk", she raised her eyebrows "what, all on your own? like that?" gesturing towards you "like what?", "drunk, at risk of stumbling into traffic or something" she joked, you nudged her, "shut up, i am not that drunk" she smiled, leaning closer, "listen, how about i walk you home? you live around here, right?" you were surprised by the offer but really happy about it, any time you could spend with her was an unexpected gift, "okay, yes, you can tell me what you´ve been up to" you said in a playful tone, she pushed you towards the door, shaking her head "nice try, i am not spilling any secrets, you have more exciting stories to tell anyway, I bet".

the walk to your place was only about ten minutes, just enough time to link arms with her, under the guise of steading yourself. each passing second you felt giddier and more excited about unexpectedly being close to her again, after having pushed down all the unresolved feelings for her. you didn´t know this but she was going through the same exact thing, feeling that old pull towards you, that intense, almost obsessive affection, that had haunted her since you´d stepped out of her store for the last time.

once you stood at the front door of your house, you both looked at each other, a moment of silence, you couldn´t bear letting go of her so quickly, so you tried to sound casual asking "hey, you know what? i saw your apartment like a hundred times when i worked for you, now that you´re already here, i could show you my room in return?" you somehow succeeded in not making it sound suggestive, she was not registering it as a move on her, not really. she hesitated for a second, knowing it wasn´t a good idea at all, seeing your space, because it would only deepen the ache of not truly being part of your life, but she just couldn´t leave you, so she nodded, "yes, sure, it´s not like i have anywhere else to be", also trying to make it sound casual, when it felt anything but that.

the apartment was dark, you lead her to your room, explaining that your roommates were gone, walking over to you nightstand to grab a lighter, quickly lighting a few candles, telling Van to come in make herself comfortable, she was smiling to herself watching you, because it looked like you were setting the mood, but she could tell you did that every night. once you were done and looked at her taking in the details of your room, you realized how intimate it was, to have her see all of it up close, but she was very complimentary "this is such a nice space, it suits you", you blushed a little, "thanks. you don´t have to stand there by the way, come, sit" still a little bolder than usual from the drinks in your system, sitting down on your bed, patting the space next to you, before laying down flat on your back, legs dangling off the edge. she joined you, realizing that sitting upright would look awkward, so she laid back too, enjoying the softness of the sheets "god this is nice" she sighed, closing her eyes for a second.you two laid there like that for a moment, you could feel her body heat, it was a lot, suddenly having her there, in your bed, where you´d dreamed of her many times.

you didn´t face her yet, instead staring at the ceiling while saying "i missed you, you know", confessing it. she turned her head, studying your side profile, smiling, surprised "you had my number, why didn´t you text me?", "what would i have said?", she laughed, "jesus i don´t know, have you ever heard of small talk? it usually goes something like: hi, how are you?", you turned to look at her then, her face barely inches from yours, pretty as always, your heart beating faster, "very funny, you know what i mean, it would´ve been odd, just out of nowhere" she nodded, "sure, i get it. i missed you too but never reached out either so.." that got you, "you did??" you asked, making sure she was being serious, she looked confused "of course, why wouldn´t I?" you thought about it, "i don´t know. i guess i never considered i was important to you like that" she shook her head "oh come on, of course you knew that i cared about you, it was pretty obvious" you saw her hand resting on her chest and put yours on top of it, your fingers between hers, feeling her react,"I guess I did know in a way, you were always so sweet to me. i was pretty fucking devastated when our time was over. it´s kind of pathetic but i actually cried on that last day" you admitted, squeezing her hand, she was stunned, waiting for you to face her again, which you did, your eyes full of unexpressed love all of a sudden, hers barely containing how hard that image of you in tears over her hit her, her hand moving away from under yours to caress your face.

"i had no idea. i wish you´d have told me, we could´ve stayed in touch, i could´ve been there for you" your breath was uneven now, feeling her hand on your cheek, looking at her with pleading eyes, whispering, "Van, you don´t know how much i missed you these past few months. that time we spent together, I was going through a lot but you were so good to me, you were the only thing making me happy. letting go of you was horrible", you were almost choked up, she could have cried then, it was more than she ever imagined possible, your feelings for her being so intense, her voice low and quiet then,"I don´t act like that with just anyone, please know that. it was special, you made me feel alive again. i still think about you all the time".

you were overcome with everything you´d felt for her for so long, instinctively closing any distance that was left between your bodies, your face close enough to hers to feel her hot breath on your lips, her hand wandering to your waist, watching your lips part in anticipation, finally giving in, finally; she leaned in to kiss you.

gently at first, but it took only a second for you to press yourself against her as hard as possible, trying to deepen the kiss, mouth open, your hand grabbing her face, hips moving against hers, fingers tangled in her long hair, kissing her back, sloppier by the second, an urgency to both of your movements, her hands firm and strong on your body, laying there, making out in a way that looked like you were trying to devour each other. you pulled away after a while, staring at each other out of breath, a smile on her face, watching your expression give away how deeply turned on you were, "please..." a whisper from you, begging her to do more, her hand under your shirt then, grabbing your chest, eliciting a gasp, leaning in to kiss your neck, hearing you moan, she could feel your growing desperation, your hands moving to your pants to get them off, so she helped, moving down to your legs, tearing the clothing off while you pulled your shirt up and tossed it aside too, she did the same, pulling off everything but her underwear, "you´re so fucking beautiful" she marveled, grabbing your thighs, feeling the soft skin, taking in the sight of your exposed body, you doing the same to her, she kissed your knee, "i´m dying to taste you" you nodded eagerly, "please, yes" moving your legs apart, giving her access, watching her pull off your underwear, immediately kissing your inner thigh all the way up, seeing you lean back and close your eyes, a "fuck" escaping your lips, she reached for both of your hands to help you hold onto something, feeling you fingers tightening around her own.

the second she ran her tongue over your cunt she moaned louder than you did, finally doing what she´d imagined many times before, those hot days when you sat next to her in shorts, your body almost completely visible, finally hers, so she took her time, slow deep movements up and down the extreme wetness, getting aroused from the taste, the feeling of it coating her lips, before adding some force to it, entering deeper into you, faster movements, hearing you cry out, basically crushing her hands then form how hard you were gripping them, she stopped at your clit, switching between sucking and licking, feeling you move your hips upwards to add to the pressure, she let go of your hands, holding you in place by your thighs, she could tell your body was aching for more, so eventually she moved her hand to where her mouth was still on you.

you were a mess by then, you could feel her fingers running over your throbbing core but before she could continue you pleaded, "please, come here, i want to look at you", she smiled, turned on by your demand, climbing up to hover over you, her chin glistening in the dim light, her lips a little swollen, the tips of her hair brushing your skin, looking down at you, staring into your eyes, her gaze giving away that she was taken over completely by her hunger for you.

she moved her hand back to where it was before, teasing for a second, savoring how warm and absolutely soaked you were, watching you struggle to keep your eyes fixed on her, your mouth open; the feeling of being pinned beneath her, the sight of her being possessive, the sensation of her fingers, it was all driving you fucking insane. "please Van..." you begged, she complied, two of her fingers pushing into you, slowly at first, taking in every little reaction of your body, the sounds you were making different then, more whining than moaning, "this okay?" she made sure, applying some pressure, finding the rhythm that would make you unravel, listening for cues, "god yes" you sighed, "you feel so fucking good", she was encouraged by that, fucking you not the way she´d fuck a hookup but with more feeling, more intensity, telling you how pretty you looked, how perfect, meaning all of it, your hands grabbing her shoulders for support, she was hitting the right spot, your legs were trembling more each passing moment, she could feel you come undone under her, both of your bodies hot all over from being skin to skin,"you´re close, hm?" she cooed, watching you nod, unable to form a word, "show me, sweetie, let me see you cum" her fingers more forceful then, adding the final bit of pressure you needed to be pushed over the edge, her unflinching gaze forcing you into that vulnerable state of being witnessed up close, at your most open, most uninhibited.

Van could feel and see a violent shudder go through your whole body, but she didn´t stop just yet, too enthralled by your sounds and movements, her fingers lingering on your clit, not letting up until you were truly finished, your chest slowly rising and falling in a steadier rhythm again. the second you regained some of your strength you pulled her in for a deep kiss, before pushing her over to the empty space next to you, so you could straddle her, your hands resting on her freckled chest, her fingers wrapping around your wrists, smiling up at you, a sweet moment of looking at each other out of breath, enthralled and still high on endorphins.

breaking the silence, you asked her "so, what side of the bed do you like to sleep on?" she grinned, her eyes lowered,"is that your subtle way of asking me to stay over?" you just looked at her as she shook her head, laughing to herself, "funny, how you think you need to talk me into these things, because there´s hardly anything i would say no to, ever, if it´s you who´s asking" you smiled then, feeling her thumbs move over your skin in a soothing motion, "careful, you´ll regret saying that, you´ll get so sick of me, just wait" she grinned, shaking her head, "never, never in my life", a satisfied look on your exhausted but happy face.

she pulled you down to have you lay on her chest, her fingers running through your hair, feeling you relax into it, "my sweet girl" she whispered, placing a tender kiss on your head, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. both of you were glowing with love, feeling it all over, radiating off your bodies; how glad you were to have each other back.

[yuujispinkhair]

To the end (Chapter 6)

The end of the world as you knew it began with the virus spreading in your dorm. Six months later, you are once again on the run. By your side is Sukuna, the bad boy of your camp, the most unlikely companion you expected. But maybe this is exactly as it should be because sometimes hope comes in the form of a smug smirk and a tattooed pair of sword-yielding arms.

Masterpost ++ Chapter 1 ++ Chapter 2 ++ Chapter 3 ++ Chapter 4 ++ Chapter 5

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, horror, smut and some fluff Playlist: Zombie Apocalypse Word Count: 7k Warnings: 18+, violence, gore, angst, smut, cumshot, cum-eating, squirting, rough sex, zombies, fighting, knives, blood, mentions of several side characters' deaths, alcohol, suicidal thoughts. This AU is based on The Walking Dead, so imagine a world like this. It's cruel and hopeless at times, but there is also a love story :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

You wake up to an empty bed, shivering slightly from the chilly temperatures in the cabin. There's an uneasy feeling in your gut, and after a second, the horrible memories of yesterday slam back into your mind with full force. You look around feverishly. Where is Sukuna? In your hurry to get dressed and look for him, you almost fall over your own feet.

But you find him in front of the hut. He's standing with his back to you, overlooking the forest surrounding the small cabin. The strong muscles on his broad back are tense, just like the rest of his posture.

You approach him slowly while softly calling out his name so as not to startle him, still scared that a wrong move will send him running.

When Sukuna's gaze meets yours, you see a glimpse of the boy who cried himself to sleep in your arms last night, grief-stricken and lost. For a fleeting moment, his eyes look at you almost longingly. As if he wants to be back in your arms.

But the moment is gone quickly, and Sukuna's face turns into an emotionless mask. It makes your step falter for a moment. The memory of his tears on your naked skin is still fresh, as well as the desperate way he fucked you, looking for an outlet, for an escape, that you gladly provided to him.

Part of you hoped he would let his guard down and let you continue to comfort him this morning. But one look at his carefully blank expression tells you that Sukuna isn't ready to be open about his feelings and share his grief and pain with you in broad daylight.

His face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. He looks as cold and beautiful as a marble statue, almost cruel with the way his lips lift at one corner in a malevolent smirk that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Pack your things, brat. We are leaving. There's no reason to stay here any longer."

Your stomach clenches painfully. You can hear the hopelessness in Sukuna's words. The resignation. There really is nothing here for him anymore. Only pain. You understand why he wants to leave as fast as possible and leave this place that will always remind him of what he lost. You blink the tears away that are gathering in your eyes and tentatively take a step closer, feeling the urge to give Sukuna some kind of comfort at least,

"Sukuna..."

But you don't get any further because he interrupts you, his voice toneless but unrelenting,

"I said pack your things."

You gulp hard and swallow down what you want to say to him. The words of comfort, the reassurance. You can see that he wouldn't take it well at this moment. Nothing is left of the boy who cried in your arms last night. This is a different Sukuna. Cold, hard, ready to slay his way through hordes of zombies and every other enemy he might encounter.

And so you nod and turn around wordlessly to gather your belongings, saying goodbye to your small temporary home of the last few weeks.

Your journey to the other end of the forest is one of strained silence. Sukuna shuts down any of your attempts to talk. The pace he sets is a fast one, making you breathe heavily and effectively shutting you up.

His brother's leather necklace with the golden tiger charm dangles around Sukuna's neck. You see him touching it unconsciously several times, but anytime he realizes what he's doing, he quickly jerks his hand away as if the metal burned him.

Sukuna is tense, mouth set in a grim line, red-rimmed eyes scanning your surroundings with a defeated look in them. He is still functioning, though. A fighter through and through.

His senses are still sharp. He gets in front of you when there's the sound of a twig snapping to your right, automatically putting himself between you and any potential danger, shielding you with his tall body as if it has become a natural instinct to do this.

A small group of zombies breaks through the underwood at that moment, stumbling towards the two of you with their grotesque movements and their disgusting gurgling noises.

You watch in horrid fascination as Sukuna slays his way through them. He is fighting them with a lot more vigor and violence than needed. But he seems to be in a frenzy, driven by grief and rage, as he throws himself into the fight with all his brute strength.

Blood is spraying everywhere as Sukuna's katana hacks down over and over again on the zombies in front of him. He doesn't stop when they are dead but keeps hitting them with his sword, cutting them into little pieces, smashing their heads under his army boots, and scattering their body parts over the forest floor. He is breathing harshly and glaring at the bloody body parts with a feral look on his face, eyes burning with hate.

He isn't just killing them, you think. He is erasing them from this world. The creatures that killed his little brother.

It's a horrible sight. And a heartbreaking one. Tall, muscular Sukuna leaning over the bloody mess on the forest floor, bringing his blood-stained katana down onto the scattered pile of bodies, hacking desperately, his hands gripping his katana so tightly that his knuckles are white.

"Sukuna...please stop."

You have to suppress the bile from rising in your throat as you carefully wade through the slippery mess and reach out to put a hand on Sukuna's back.

His muscles feel taut under your hand, and his shirt is wet from sweat and dark blood. He twitches at your touch but doesn't pull away.

You try again, gently,

"They are already dead...please...stop."

Your hand caresses his back lightly, just a whisper of a touch, scared that you might make him pull away again if you ask too much of him.

But he finally stops and straightens up, katana hanging loosely at his side as he turns to look at you with a face sprinkled with dark blood and tears.

Your eyes widen. You hadn't realized Sukuna was crying during the fight.

Automatically your hand comes up to cup his cheek, not caring about the dirt. You wipe away some of the tears. It's a loving touch, tender and caring, wordlessly letting him know that you are here for him, that you want to ease his pain if he only lets you.

For a moment, Sukuna stands in front of you, just watching you with a blank expression, sword arm held out stiffly, and you hear the awful syrupy sound of the blood and gore dripping down from it. But then you feel him lean into your touch ever so slightly.

Encouraged by this, you give him a shaky smile,

"Let's move on, ok? The sooner we find a good place to stay for the night, the better."

"Yeah, let's look for a place to set up a camp for the night."

He steps away from you, pulling up the front of his shirt to wipe the gore and tears off his face. And you watch the tattoos on his stomach move when his abs flex. It's a hypnotic sight, a little normalcy after this horrible scene you witnessed only minutes ago. When the shirt drops down again, Sukuna looks more put together. Only the understandably haunted look in his eyes remains.

You set up camp for the night at a deer stand. Sukuna orders you to climb up into the wooden stand and get some sleep while he stays up to keep watch.

When you climb down again a few hours later to take over the watch, you get wordlessly pulled into Sukuna's arms. Your surprised gasp gets silenced by his lips which move over yours in a fierce, desperate kiss.

And after that, you speak the language you and Sukuna can speak the best, letting your bodies do all the talking.

From that moment on, it's deep, feverish kisses and low moans. Hands and teeth tearing at each other's clothes until you are a half-undressed tangle on the forest floor, where Sukuna rolls on top of you and takes you with his usual hard and unrelenting thrusts. He cums on your stomach and licks you clean afterward while his long fingers pump into you mercilessly, making you cry out his name as your whole body shakes and you cum all over his hand.

He gets dressed in silence before telling you to be careful during your watch and then presses a surprisingly gentle kiss onto the side of your cheek before his strong fingers let go of your chin, and he climbs up the deer stand to get a few hours of rest too.

You doubt he got any good sleep though, judging by the tired look on his face and the dark circles under his eyes when he climbs down the ladder again at the first light of morning.

After a silent breakfast, the two of you continue your journey.

It's afternoon when Sukuna's left arm darts out in a warning. You stop in your tracks, your heart hammering fearfully in your chest as you strain your ears. And then you hear it too. There are voices. Human voices.

You freeze up completely for a moment. Your last encounter with other survivors wasn't a pleasant one after all. Panic is threatening to engulf you as you remember the two strangers who wanted to steal your supplies.

You still see images of Sukuna's fight to the death with those men when the voices suddenly turn into screams.

Your gaze snaps to Sukuna, eyes wide. He puts a long elegant finger to his lips, motioning for you to stay silent. His other hand wraps tightly around your wrist and pulls you along as he slowly makes his way toward the commotion, carefully making sure not to make any noises.

Soon you spot a clearing just a few meters down the hill. A small camp is set there. Only two tents. The inhabitants of those are currently all standing with their backs to each other, holding up their weapons as they get surrounded by a large group of zombies that constantly closes in on them.

The campers seem to be a family. A middle-aged man and woman, their teenage sons, and an older woman, probably the grandmother.

Your heart jumps to your throat at the sight. You can see that the horde of zombies is too big. That family will not make it out alive. Your hand darts to the long knife in your holster, unsheathing it.

"What are you doing, brat?"

Sukuna's voice is a harsh whisper. You blink at him, eyes wide with fear,

"We're going to help them, right?'

His eyes narrow, and before you can move, he gets in your way, placing his tall, muscular body between you and the clearing.

"No, you're not going down there! Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"But Sukuna! They need our help! We have to do something!"

"No, we don't!"

You feel anger rise in you. Anger at Sukuna for trying to stop you, anger at him for not talking to you all day, anger at yourself for getting angry at him despite his grief, anger at the zombies, anger at that family for not being more watchful and letting themselves get ambushed by a whole horde of walkers, anger at this cruel world that puts you into such situations.

A broken sob escapes your lips as you quickly step to the side, trying to get past Sukuna in your blind urge to do something, to right some of the wrongs in this fucked up world.

But Sukuna is faster than you. His strong arms grab you and stop you from getting any further.

You howl like a wild animal and struggle against his tight grip,

"Let me go!"

But you don't stand a chance against Sukuna, of course. He tightens his hold on you, his muscled arms wrapping around your waist in a death grip before he lifts you off your feet and half drags, half carries you away from the horrible sight of the family fighting against the zombies and screaming for their lives.

Tears are running down your face, blurring your vision. You don't even know when you started crying or why you are in such a desperate state. But somehow, you cannot stand the thought of more useless deaths, more innocent people dying, and more unfairness, just like when Yuuji died.

You keep struggling against Sukuna's hold, frantically kicking at him and clawing at his arms.

"Please, we have to help them! They will die!"

Your desperate cry gets muffled by a firm hand clamping down over your mouth. Sukuna's other arm is still wrapped painfully around your waist while his tall, athletic body presses against your back, holding you tightly to him, effectively restraining you and shutting you up at the same time.

His low voice is an angry whisper right next to your ear. You feel his lips brush wetly over your earlobe as he spats,

"And I don't fucking care what happens to them! All I care about is keeping you alive! Why don't you understand that!? You are the only one that is important to me! I don't give a fuck about anyone else! I won't let you go down there and get yourself killed! I won't lose another person! I lost my brother! I won't lose you too! Get that in your stupid head, you fucking brat!"

You can feel the rise and fall of his broad chest against your back. He's breathing heavily. His mouth lingers on your skin, hot and wet, blowing his warm breath onto your neck.

You draw in a sharp breath that turns into a muffled sob.

Sukuna is scared, you realize. He is scared to lose you like he lost Yuuji.

It's as much of a love confession as you can imagine coming from him at the moment. A desperate plea to stay alive for him because he needs you just like you need him.

And suddenly, the fog seems to lift off your thoughts. Your mind is clear again. You realize how stupid you were. How could you think running blindly into that clearing was a good idea? Sukuna is right. There are too many zombies, and you have no idea how many more will join the ones already down there. Helping that family would most likely just get you killed too.

This time you don't try to resist when Sukuna starts walking again and drags you with him, hastily putting more distance between the fight and the two of you.

You spend the following days in the same routine. During the daytime, you make your way through the forest, mainly walking in silence. And at night, Sukuna and you are fucking on the forest floor, with your nails digging into Sukuna's broad back while his hips snap in feverish moves and his lips leave bruises on your neck. You decorate his tattoed skin with scratches while his tears leave their wet trail on your neck and shoulders.

You know this is probably not how coping should work. But these are dark times, and Sukuna is a special kind of guy. This is the method that seems to work best. It's the only one that seems to give him some comfort. And so you lay with him every night, giving him all the comfort and love you can by meeting his hard deep thrusts eagerly and stroking or sucking his gorgeous cock with sweet abandon until he cries out softly and spills his warm seed into your mouth or on your body.

You think at night, when he is lying in your arms after another round of desperate fucking, Sukuna seems better. His kisses turn softer, and his embrace becomes gentler. You could even call it cuddling, what the two of you are doing for a short while before you have to part again so one can sleep and the other can take watch.

In broad daylight, things are different, though. After his outburst, Sukuna retreated again, marching along wordlessly, eyes fixed on the way ahead, muscles tense, and jaw clenched. You can see the grief he carries with him like a heavy weight dragging him down constantly. You can see it in his posture, in the way every step seems painful for him.

The golden tiger charm on the leather band around Sukuna's neck keeps rhythmically moving with every step. You gulp hard when you see him unconsciously raise a hand again to wrap it around the small charm. This time he doesn't let go of it but holds it tightly.

It's hard to just walk beside Sukuna, unable to do anything. You know how to help him when you lie down with each other. When you can offer your body to him. When you can let your hands and your mouth, and your body give Sukuna the comfort he needs.

But you want to help him here right now too. Not just in the hazy moments at night, when he can hide his expression from you, and you only feel his tears on your skin but don't see them. You want to comfort him in daylight too.

"Sukuna..."

You reach out, gently placing your fingertips on his biceps.

Sukuna shrugs your hand away instantly, taking a step to the side to put some distance between the two of you. Cold, maroon eyes sparkle at you.

"Get away from me, brat."

He sounds hostile, but you can see that longing in his eyes again. His actions and words tell you to leave him alone, but his eyes show how much he needs someone to help him.

And suddenly, you can't take it anymore.

It's too much. Yuuji's death, worrying about Sukuna, the lack of sleep, the constant fear, the zombie attack on that family, and your craving to help Sukuna while he keeps pushing you away.

Suddenly you find yourself snapping at him,

"I won't get away from you! I care about you, Sukuna! And I can see how much you are suffering! Let me be there for you, please! Don't push me away all the time!"

Tears run down your cheeks as you stand there with your fists helplessly balled at your sides, glaring up at Sukuna's much taller figure, shaking from how distraught you are.

Deep down, you know you are selfish for asking this of him, but you can't deal with this anymore. You can't tiptoe around him when you know he needs you. When every night, he cries while fucking you in that desperate and frantic way but still refuses to talk to you about what happened.

Sukuna stares back at you. His maroon eyes are wide and haunted. He blinks several times, and his emotionless mask slips, face contorting in a painful grimace. His lips twitch before he starts speaking, and his low voice is just a broken whisper,

"But can't you see? I don't deserve it."

His words catch you off guard. You blink and stare at him with a puzzled expression.

"What?"

"I don't deserve any of your sympathy, brat. I'm a monster. I bring chaos and death everywhere I go. I even killed my little brother."

Blood is rushing in your ears and pumping much too fast through your veins, threatening to make you black out. What is going on here? Has he lost his mind? He isn't making any sense!

"What are you saying, Sukuna? You didn't kill Yuuji!"

A sad humorless chuckle escapes Sukuna's lips.

"It might as well have been my hand which did it. I swore to protect him. But I failed him. I wasn't by his side when he got into a fight. I wasn't there to keep my little brother safe. It's my fucking fault he died!"

The last part is an angry scream that ends in a wretched-sounding sob. One of Sukuna's large hands comes up to cover his face.

It breaks your heart to see him like this. So broken, stripped of all his arrogance and pride.

You feel unsteady on your feet as you begin to realize what Sukuna has been dealing with in silence all this time. The messed-up version of events he constructed in his grieving mind. The guilt he has been drowning in. Sukuna became an unreliable narrator to himself, twisting the story of his brother's death and turning everything into his fault.

You make a strangled noise as more tears well up in your eyes, and then, without thinking, you close the small distance between the two of you, throwing yourself at Sukuna, reaching out to wrap both arms around his tall figure and hug him. For a second, you fear he will push you away again. But he doesn't move.

"But... that's not how things were. None of it was your fault."

Your voice is a gentle whisper, afraid you will lose him if you speak louder. Every muscle in Sukuna's body is taut as if he is on the verge of running. And his next words make a fearful knot form in your stomach.

Sukuna sounds dead, talking in a gruff, toneless voice while his eyes stare unseeingly at a place behind you.

"It should have been me who died. Yuuji was the good twin. I am the bad one. It's ironic, isn't it? They always try to teach you to do good, but if you do it, you die, while the ones who do bad things stay alive."

"Stop saying stuff like that! You both should have lived! And you were always a good brother to Yuuji! Even now, you want to bring him back to your family grave!"

You look at Sukuna with pleading eyes, desperate to reassure him.

His gaze meets yours and Sukuna laughs softly. But it's a humorless, cruel laughter. There's a shadow ghosting over his face. His eyes hold a deep sadness as he looks at you and shakes his head ever so slightly.

"I changed my mind. What use is it to bury him in my family grave? He is gone. I don't believe in that crap about the afterlife or whatever. Yuuji isn't here anymore. So what good will it do him? That is only something selfish I wanted to do, to fool myself into believing I didn't fail my little brother completely. But I did. I promised Yuuji I would always protect him, but instead, I got him killed. It's my fault. I don't deserve your compassion or your trust."

His words make panic rise in your chest. Sukuna sounds defeated, full of self-hatred and hopelessness. These are the words of a man who can't forgive himself. Someone who has lost his will to live.

Your mind is reeling. What can you tell someone who is down at his worst? You exhale shakily and tilt your head to look into Sukuna's eyes.

"I'm not gonna say things will be ok because I know they won't. You will always miss your brother and regret not being by his side when it happened. But Sukuna, I need you. Maybe this is selfish, but please, I need you here by my side. I won't survive this on my own. So please stay alive for me, ok? I know it's painful and hopeless, and death seems so much easier, but I am not ready to die, and I cannot stand the thought of losing you. So please stay with me, Sukuna."

He huffs, eyes glittering dangerously, and his words come out snide, almost mocking.

"Do you really want a zombie apocalypse partner who gets the people he wants to protect killed? I think you'd be better off with someone else."

His words make the blood rush in your ears. A mix of fear and hot searing anger floods your senses. What does he mean, you'd be better off with someone else? Is that why he is acting this way? He thinks he will get everyone he cares about killed? He thinks he has to protect you from him? Will he just drop you somewhere? Will he just leave you behind in his state of self-hatred?

Suddenly you see red. You bring your hands up and push angrily at Sukuna's firm chest, taking a step back to glare up at him,

"How can you think I would be safer with someone else!? I only trust you! And before you get the stupid idea to drop me at some camp or something, let me tell you that I will not stay with anyone else! You are my zombie apocalypse partner! Only you! And if you leave, I will just follow you! I will follow you until the end of the world, Sukuna!"

You yell the last part, not caring about the zombies you might attract with your noise. Angry tears run down your cheeks, and your body shakes violently.

For a moment, Sukuna stares at you as if he can't believe you are real. Then he crosses his muscular arms in front of his chest and sneers at you.

"This makes you sound just as crazy as I am. I hope you realize that, princess."

In your helpless anger, you laugh, a strange squeaky sound that sounds all wrong and insane, and maybe you are proofing Sukuna's point by acting like a mad woman, but you cannot stop. Your hands ball into fists at your sides as your gaze burns into his, and you yell the next words, so desperate to get your point across,

"I don't care if I am crazy! Everything in this world is crazy! And it scares me out of my mind to imagine being in this madness without you! Don't do that to me, Sukuna! You dragged me away from that fight because you didn't want to lose me! So why the fuck can you even contemplate leaving me behind with someone else? I know your brother is gone, but I am still here, and I need you! You told me it is us from now on! That we are in this together! Don't you dare take that back now! I need you by my side!

Don't give me that crap about needing to protect me from yourself, as if we are in some shitty teen romance movie! It's not true! You are the best thing that has happened to me since this stupid virus outbreak! And I care about you, whether you want that or not! I care about you a lot, you idiot! Do you really think I would let you go and get yourself killed? Do you have any idea how bad I felt when I went back to the hut alone when you asked me to? I will never do something like that again! So stop this idiocy and promise me we are still in this together!"

You glare at him with tears streaming down your face, breathing heavily and almost choking on your tears.

Sukuna watches you curiously, and you can see his adam's apple bob as he gulps hard. Something in his gaze twists, and then he asks in a soft voice,

"Why are you so stubborn, brat?"

"Must have learned it from the best, I guess."

You wipe angrily at the tears streaming down your cheeks while Sukuna's gaze wanders scrutinizingly over you as if you are the most fascinating thing he has ever laid his eyes upon. Finally, his gaze meets yours again, and he nods slowly,

"Ok."

You frown at him, surprised by the sudden softness in his features.

"Ok?"

"Yeah, I'll keep going. For you. I won't leave you, I promise. We're in this together, just like I said."

Relief washes over you, making your legs almost give out. You sway precariously for a split second, but Sukuna's strong arms are there to catch you. They wrap around you and pull you into his firm embrace.

Your sob of relief gets muffled when you nuzzle your face into Sukuna's muscular chest. You hear another strangled sound, not even sure whether it's coming from you or Sukuna.

But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that Sukuna is holding you. That he promised you he will stay alive for you, that he will stay by your side. It's still him and you.

"Thank you, Yuuji, for being so kind and caring. You will be missed a lot."

You smile through your tears as you place the small bouquet of wildflowers you picked on the makeshift tomb you and Sukuna built out of several big stones.

It's been a week since you found Yuuji, and this morning you suggested holding a small burial ceremony to honor him and say your goodbyes since Sukuna is still adamant about not bringing Yuuji's ashes to their family grave. He calls it an unnecessary risk. This is true, but you still tried to encourage him to follow his initial wish. Until last night.

Last night, when your head was resting on Sukuna's naked chest after another round of feverish fucking, he whispered something to you. A confession, a fear.

"Too much can happen on a long journey like that. What if we get into an ambush and have to leave everything behind? I cannot stand the thought of losing Yuuji's remains like that. It would be like failing him all over again. He has to stay here."

And that's why you are burying Yuuji here, where you can say farewell to him under controlled circumstances.

You eye Sukuna carefully as he gets on his knees in front of the tomb. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, brushing away the tears that gathered there before he lowers his head and closes his eyes, lips moving silently.

You know he isn't praying. Sukuna doesn't believe in that. But in his head, he is talking to his little brother. Words that will only be between them. A goodbye, most likely words of love and pleas for forgiveness.

You hardly dare to breathe, scared you will make a noise and disturb this intimate moment between the twins. Yuuji isn't alive anymore, but the bond between the brothers still remains.

After a few minutes, Sukuna lifts his head again, maroon eyes glittering in the last rays of the setting sun.

"Goodbye, you idiot little brother."

He speaks the words with a grin on his face and a hint of his usual teasing humor in his voice. Despite the flippant message, you can hear the affection in his words.

Sukuna gets up and joins you on the fallen log you are perched on, sitting down so close to you that his thigh brushes against yours. He runs a hand through his hair, smoothing the pink strands down while his gaze remains glued to the last resting place of his twin. He snorts softly.

"And that's it... that's a hero's burial. In the middle of nowhere, far away from home, with no one here but his brother who couldn't save him and a girl who didn't even really know him. That's what you get for being a hero."

"I don't think we are the only ones who remember him. I think someone like Yuuji always stays with everyone he ever meets. The things he did weren't in vain, Sukuna. And the ones he saved will always remember him and be grateful for him. He was very selfless."

"Yeah, my stupid selfless brother. He was too good. It's unfair, isn't it? All the heroes die, and this world is left with the scum, with the selfish ones, the ones who only have their own advantage in mind. That's why I'm still alive. The bad ones survive, and the good ones die."

Sukuna's army boot connects with an empty coke can, kicking it into the small campfire you lit to chase away the cold of the night.

Since your argument a few days ago, things have become better. Sukuna isn't as closed off anymore, and some of his guilt seems to have been lifted off his shoulders. But he still has moments like this when the darkness of his thoughts threatens to swallow him again, just like now. But you think you know how to handle him now.

You smile challengingly at him and ask him in a soft voice,

"What about me then? I am still alive too. Does that mean I am a bad person too?"

Sukuna rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive gesture with his hand,

"No, you're still alive because of me."

You chuckle softly and turn to face Sukuna with a raised eyebrow.

"Ah, so you admit that you saved someone too? Maybe Yuuji wasn't the only hero, huh? Sukuna, you aren't a bad person. Don't you see it? You just said it yourself. I owe my life to you. Would someone who only thinks of himself have burdened himself to take me with him? Would a bad person have saved me? You would have been much faster without me, but you chose to help me that night when our camp got overrun. You chose to take me with you even though I was holding you up. To me, you are a hero too. My personal hero."

Sukuna lets out a long breath, shaking his head.

"Yeah, fine, I saved you. But still, I only look after myself and you. Everyone else can die for all I care. Look what I did to that family. How I let them get eaten. And how I killed those two guys who wanted our supplies. And I would do it again without any hesitation."

"And I told you, I understand. You saved us on both occasions. And I am grateful for it. I am grateful for your ability to judge a situation calmly and make the decision that keeps us alive. You aren't a bad person for wanting to put the ones who are important to you first."

"You don't understand. Yuuji was the good one. It should have been me who died."

"Sukuna... I understand that you miss your brother, and I know you feel guilty because you are still alive, and he is not. But it wasn't your fault. It was an accident. Yuuji's death was something that was out of your control. You aren't to blame for it."

You lean against Sukuna's side and rest your head on his broad shoulder, eyes fixed on the dancing flames of the campfire as you continue talking in a gentle voice,

"You are a good guy, too, Sukuna, at least to me. I don't need a knight in shining armor who always does the righteous thing. I am more than happy with the antihero who keeps us alive by putting us first. I know Yuuji was a symbol of hope for a lot of people, including me, back when we were in our old camp. But you have become an even bigger hope for me. My only hope in this world. Maybe you aren't sunshine like your brother was, but you are a fire. A fire that can be raging and dangerous when it burns our enemies. But also comforting, keeping me warm and safe and making me feel like there is still a reason to keep living. That's what you are to me. A reason to wake up again tomorrow. You are my only light in this dark world."

You exhale softly and lift your head to look at Sukuna, feeling almost drunk after letting all that out. Your gaze travels slowly over the filigree tattoos on Sukuna's jaw and follows the black lines upwards to the pair of fake eyes that are inked into his skin before you finally reach his real eyes.

Your gaze meets his, and you find that Sukuna is looking at you with a stunned expression in those pretty eyes. His long eyelashes flutter for a moment, and then he asks in a slightly hoarse voice,

"That's how you see me?"

You nod, smiling at him through the tears in your eyes.

"Yes. And I don't want you to change. You don't have to be this perfectly selfless good guy. You don't have to be the hero who saves everyone. You are my personal hero, Sukuna, and that's more than enough. You save me over and over again, and I like you exactly the way you are. I..."

You stop momentarily, your heart pounding wildly as you look at the boy who has become your whole world. And suddenly, it's so natural to say all those things and bare your whole heart and soul to him. Because, after all, the two of you have already been through more than someone can usually take. So what is there to fear? A love confession is the least scary thing in the current state of the world. And so you let those words spill from your lips that would have made you shy and nervous in your old life.

"I love you, Sukuna. I really love you. It's so different from what I thought love was before this virus. Everything I felt in the past seems so childish, so irrelevant compared to this. I think I never knew what love was supposed to be. But now, with you, I understand it. I watch you kill, and I am not scared but grateful. I watch you fight, and think it's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I see you with blood smeared all over you, screaming and laughing death in the face, and I am so full of love. I love you at your worst and at your best. And I can be my worst version around you too, and I know you won't turn your back on me. I have never trusted someone so much before. And if this isn't real love, then I don't know what is."

Your lips tremble at the last words, overcome with emotion, and you see the utter amazement in Sukuna's beautiful maroon eyes. For a long moment, he just looks at you, apparently too surprised to do anything, but then his lips twitch, and he says softly,

"Princess... come here."

Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly to his chest. There's a smile in his voice when he tells you,

"I think you're crazy for seeing me that way. Absolutely insane. But it makes me want to be that guy you think I am. So I will try to be him."

It makes you laugh, your lips moving against Sukuna's shirt, chuckling softly as you shake your head,

"You don't have to try, you stubborn idiot. You already are him!"

You feel and hear a low laugh deep in Sukuna's chest.

"Ok, I will accept the compliment, then."

There's a short moment of silence in which Sukuna just holds you. You breathe in his scent, letting it wrap you in its comforting familiarity. Leather and sweat and the unexplainable hint of cherry blossom.

And then Sukuna sighs softly, and his velvety voice is very close to your ear when he speaks again,

"I don't know much about love. I think before all of this, I never felt it for anyone apart from my brother. I hated this world and everyone in it. But now there's you... and I like having you by my side. I want to burn the whole world down, but not while you are still in it. You aren't scared of me or repulsed by the things I do. After everything I've done, you're still here and treat me like I'm worthy of your affection. And that makes me... that makes me feel more human again and less like a monster. You make me want to continue, no matter how fucked up everything is. I want you next to me and under me, and I want to tease you until you roll your eyes and get mad at me because it makes the apocalypse a lot more fun when I can bicker with you. You mean a lot more to me than I ever thought possible. The thought of losing you terrifies me. I would do anything to keep you safe and see another sunrise with you."

You are sniffling against his chest, overcome with emotions, as hot tears run down your cheeks and into Sukuna's shirt. The raw openness in Sukuna's words caught you off guard.

He rests his chin gently on the top of your head and adds softly,

"I think I'm in love with you too, brat."

You stifle a sob when strong fingers cup your chin, and Sukuna tilts your face up, making you look at him.

He looks beautiful, even here in the half shadows. The flames of the campfire flicker enticingly over his tattoos and Sukuna's high cheekbones, accentuating his sharp angles and handsome features. His usually maroon-colored eyes glow red from the fire reflecting in them, like two glittering rubies.

He watches you with those stunning eyes, letting his gaze travel unhurriedly over your face as if taking you in for the first time.

Finally, the left corner of Sukuna's lips lifts ever so slightly in a hint of his usually smug smirk. But tonight, it's not really a smirk. It's more of a soft smile.

"It wasn't just me who saved you. You saved me too, princess."

And then Sukuna's eyes close, and he slowly leans closer to you. The breath you were holding leaves your lips in a soft sigh when Sukuna's lips press against yours in a gentle slow kiss that tastes like tears and hope and love.

Thank you so much for reading! This was a long chapter aaaaah, but I needed Sukuna and Reader to sort things out :) I hope you liked their I love you scene! It made me very emotional! I am so weak for this kind of love, where you love someone with all their darkness, and they do the same when it comes to you. It's what I love the most about writing my version of Sukuna, and I am very happy that I could include it in this AU too. I hope it could touch you too.

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs make me happy!

Chapter 7 (last chapter)

[aftercamlann]

ACBB 2023 MASTERPOST

Thank you to all our wonderful writers, artists, beta readers and hype readers who participated in this years After Camlann Big Bang! We hope you will consider participating again this year!

Below is the final masterlist for After Camlann 2023:

*** Title: This Remarkable Season Author: s0mmerspr0ssen Artist: PapySanzo89 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, side: Leon/Morgana, Gwen/Lancelot, Gwaine/Percival, (temporary) Cenred/Merlin, surprise/minor pairings Rating: Explicit Word count: 79,313 Summary: Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot, must marry. King Uther expects him to choose a high-ranking noble, preferably a lady, from amongst the Camelot ton. But as fate would have it, the Prince finds himself drawn to Mr Merlin Emrys, an obscure gentleman from the countryside. Merlin, impoverished and desperate to save his family from complete ruin, must marry, too. Feelings are secondary, for the match must be an advantageous one. Soon, both Arthur and Merlin are caught between the pressure of expectations and what their hearts truly desire…

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: The Chough's Call Author: Aro_Tarot Artist: Winnett Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Mordred/Daegal Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 85,861 Summary: When Arthur went back to his hometown to find his missing sister, he wasn’t sure what he would find. He simply hoped that there would be some clue that would lead him to her. A clue, he did find, but instead of pointing him in a direction, it led to him being knocked out and waking up in a different world, one with magic.

Taken, rescued, and now staying in a refugee sanctuary, Arthur was now not just searching for his sister but also the figure known in history and legend as the Once and Future King. As he works as an assistant to a sorcerer named Merlin, befriends a group of knights, and is accompanied with his childhood figurine turned living chough, Arthur starts to question if he would want to go home after all of this is over. Of course, that is only if the others and him can survive the prophecy, the return of the ancient evil known as the Ivory, and if Emrys can fulfill his part by finding the Once and Future King.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: I hear that deserts heal your history Author: Celaenos Artist: gramnel Pairings/Characters: Morgana & Arthur, Merlin/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin Rating: Mature Word count: 68,355 Summary: Morgana pushes herself up slowly, looking around. She is in the backseat of a car, in what looks like a vast and empty desert, pulled off against the side of a highway. No cars, no people anywhere that she can see. A blonde woman is sleeping in the front passenger seat. Morgana stares at her, confusion overwhelming, even as the dawning horror builds the longer that Morgana studies her features. The sharp edges are there: the tilt of her chin, the shape of her nose, the way that her mouth opens just slightly—it’s all there plain as day, and Morgana feels faint. Furious. Terrified. Why now, after all this time?

She crawls over, flinging open the backseat and vomits down into the dirt.

In the front seat of the Cadillac, the reincarnation of her brother wakes with a start.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Flicker Of A Candlelight, Heat Of An Inferno Author: lavender_spice Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Gwen/Morgana Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 93,168 Summary: When Merlin gets injured on a hunting trip, Arthur is forced to face his true feelings for his stubbornly loyal manservant. Merlin is everything he should not want, and yet Arthur struggles to keep his feelings at bay.

On top of all this, after learning of his father's lies and hypocrisy, Arthur hatches a plan to put an end to his people's suffering once and for all, finding unlikely allies along the way.

Can the two boys intertwined by destiny navigate their relationship amongst betrayal, secrecy, and a near-impossible mission?

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Charlatans and Ruffians Author: thenerdyindividual Artist: kairennart Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwaine/Merlin Rating: Mature Word count: 84,980 Summary: Merlin and Gwaine spend their days bopping around kingdoms, performing for the masses in exchange for petty coin. Sometimes they perform for room and board. When they perform at a tavern, the tavern owner gives Merlin a ring for payment, everything changes. Turns out the ring was haunted by the ghost of Queen Ygraine Pendragon. Now Ygraine is threatening to haunt Merlin for the rest of his life if he doesn't travel to Camelot to protect her son Arthur.

He goes to Camelot, and it turns out that Arthur is a huge pain in the ass. But he's also kind and does his best for his people, and that has Merlin and Gwaine falling for him.

If only Merlin didn't have to contend with a genocidal king and political plot involving the Kingdom of Magic.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: till our souls catch us up Author: EachPeachPearPlum Artist: griffonskies Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Leon (Merlin), Elyan (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Mordred (Merlin), Freya (Merlin), Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Morgause (Merlin), Nimueh (Merlin) Rating: Mature Word count: 47,641 Summary: "Everyone but Uther Pendragon will be allowed to live," the voice says, echoing through Arthur's bones, the raw power of it terrifying beyond anything he’s ever felt, and he knows that even if the owner of the voice can be trusted to spare his citizens, the offer of sanctuary does not extend to him.

Or: When Camelot falls to an army of sorcerers, Arthur expects to follow his father to the pyre. Instead, he’s surprised when the new king spares his life, although he’s not entirely sure death wouldn’t have been better than spending the rest of his days locked in his room, waiting for Emrys to get bored of having him around.

What follows is a tale of murder attempts, evil schemes, and a mysterious prophecy.

And destiny, of course.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: In A Land Of Snarky Dragons Author & Artist: BGN846 (bgn_846) Pairings/Characters: Merlin & Arthur Rating: Teen and Up Word count: Word Count: 48,369 Summary: Merlin is living the best life, learning how to raise dragons from his dragonlord father, Balinor, on their farm. This teenager has not a care in the world (magic is legal) until the local druids pay a visit. Merlin is not happy to discover he has a destiny featuring another person he’s never met. Once and future king his arse, not on his farm. Ignoring the prophecy with the mystery no named future king, Merlin tries to pretend everything is fine.

However, one giant, scaled, slightly bored troublemaker named, Kilgharrah, decides that this prophecy of destiny and kings is the perfect adventure to get his blood pumping. So the great dragon does what he does best, and proceeds to stir the proverbial pot.

Cue, kidnappings, rescues, attempted coups, and a fair amount of dragons all to keep destiny on track.

Story and Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: it’s a fated thing Author: fabledfrog Artist: a_star_is_here Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon - Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Gwen, Morgana Pendragon, the Knights of the Roundtable, OCs Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 34,848 Summary: Merlin has a good life. He sleeps in the royal bed, sits on the king's right, uses magic out in the open, free and never again hidden.

He likes the first bit, is tired of the second, and is still awed by the last.

When he first told Arthur, he hadn't expected them to work together to destroy the destinies that had been written since the dawn of time; he hadn't thought that they would be able to change their path so drastically that everything would be different.

He hadn't even realised it, when all had been said and done. He'd only learned the truth of what they had done when he had gone to the Crystal Caves and they had shown him what his life could have been.

He'd thought they were safe from it; the cruel fate that had awaited them was averted.

Only, not everyone was happy with that.

-

In which Merlin's magic is used to create problems for the future. Or the past. All time in general.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: We Are Made for Flying Author: remaymber Artist: CaughtInTheRa1n Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, side: Morgana/Leon, Gwen/Lance, Percival/Gwaine, Freya, Hunith, Uther Rating: Mature Word count: 62,114 Summary: When Arthur sees Merlin for the first time at Camelot circus, he knows he is doomed. What makes his fate even worse is that Merlin seems dead set on hating him. But as destiny wants it, they find they need each other to solve the mystery that is Uther Pendragon to protect Camelot. As time passes and slowly the questions asked turn into answers with grave consequences, the final question remains: Do opposites attract, or will their differences be insurmountable after all?

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Author: salamandair Artist: Stelle Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: 30,490 Summary: Seven years ago, Merlin and Arthur were engaged to be married. They were happy, in love and had plans to create a better future

Seven years ago, Arthur’s world was turned upside down and the lovers broke off their engagement.

Seven years later, Arthur Pendragon is now Albion’s youngest Prime Minister in history and hates anything to do with magic.

Seven Years later, Merlin Wyvern is now the leader of a rights group fighting for equal rights for magic users.

Now, their separate worlds collide as a decades-long fight finally comes to a head to change Albion forever.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Nerdboy and the Incredible Prat Author: bad_peppermint Artist: paintedpigeon Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 34,828 Summary: The guy Merlin keeps running into at Comic-Con, wearing matching cosplay, just might be his soulmate. Too bad he’s kind of an asshole.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: The Reluctant Prince Author: Cookie Artist: Schweet_heart Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: 33,900 Summary: Arthur has never really wanted to be a prince, and the thought of being king in the future fills him with dread. But that is his destiny and not even falling in love with a stage magician called Merlin can change that.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Out of the Dark (Into the Light) Author: MyKingdomComeUndone Artist: Profiad Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Gwen, Lancelot, Mordred, Will, Sophia, Edwin, Valiant, Anhora Rating: Explicit Word count: 40,894 Summary: Instead of participating in a deadly drinking game by the sea to save Camelot from unicorn-related famine, Arthur finds himself in a cave, along with a bunch of total strangers. The catch? The only thing each of them remembers is their own name. Before panic can truly set in, an old man with a staff appears out of thin air to tell them it’s all part of a test: only the first of them to reach the exit will be permitted to leave. The others won’t be so lucky…

The quest sounds straightforward enough, but on the way, Arthur and his fellow amnesiacs are faced with wicked traps, dangerous creatures, and some threats that may even come from within their group. And as if that’s not enough trouble to face without his memories to guide him, Arthur also has to deal with his increasingly distracting feelings for a certain dark-haired sorcerer among their group, going by the name of ‘Merlin’…

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: A Smooth Sea Never Made A Skilled Pirate Author: Pearl09 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Uther Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 41,752 Summary: Arthur grew up in Camelot, next to the sea. However, he was never allowed out on the water. As the one thing out of his reach, it was the one place he yearned to be—even just to briefly experience the open ocean. When he finally decides to take his life in his own hands and hears rumors of a pirate ship nearby that might let him on board and out of the city, he has no idea what is really in store for him.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Chase the Sun Author: MerlinLikeTheBird Artist: wortvermis Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, Gwaine, Leon, Freya Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 27,572 Summary: “We lived together before and we both survived, didn’t we?” Arthur doesn’t take the bait.

“Barely,” Merlin answers, picturing their uni days. The first taste of living with anyone other than his mother or sleepovers with Will. It all made for strange, dreamlike memories, for all that it has only been a few years past.

He feels like a very old twenty five most times. He shouldn’t be this age and so tired.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Take Me Up (cast me away) Author: sacredraisincakes Artist: Athena Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: 58,975 Summary: In an effort to ease tensions between the kingdoms of Albion, Arthur plans a summit to bring together each of the monarchs to create a treaty between them. But schemes from within his own kingdom force him to change his plans ever so slightly.

"No one will believe us."

"They will... We'll start now, and over the next few weeks make it more and more obvious, until the moment we announce our engagement... Then once our visitors are gone, we simply end the betrothal. Everything goes back to the way it was."Edits for the main houses of sparringett's epic Merlin/GoT crossover fic (to be posted later, hopefully).

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: I Don't Know How to Start Author: thetreeofwillow Artist: Shadow_Hole Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur. Other characters: Gwen, Gaius, Morgana Rating: Mature Word count: 38,605 Summary: When Merlin collapses in a long forgotten hallway, Arthur has to fight for his life.

With Camelot still sitting on the edge of destruction following the dragon’s attack, Arthur should be preoccupied with reconstruction and resource management. Instead, Merlin has taken ill, and for some reason, Arthur can’t keep his mind off him.

What is Arthur to do with his kingdom in tatters, his whole world view shifting and his closest relationships rocking closely held beliefs? How is he to handle this while being drawn ever closer to Merlin? Merlin, whose condition is worsening by the day.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Sacrificing All Within Me, To Save Us Author: LadyDanielle Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Explicit Word count: 55,286 Summary: In his second year as King of Camelot, Arthur has legalized magic and prospered the kingdom with Merlin's guidance. But rumors spread that Arthur is just a puppet under Merlin's control. Arthur begins to doubt himself - maybe he’s depending too much on Merlin's ideas instead of his own judgment. How can he push past expectations to rule as he chooses, including taking Merlin as his consort openly if he can’t rely on his own decisions.

To prove himself, Arthur makes a risky choice that could be the fall of Camelot. He decides to find out the hard way.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Fate has made you so Author: slantedknitting Artist: LFB72 Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Elena Rating: Explicit Word count: 29,351 Summary: It’s 1953, and Arthur is a young, up-and-coming architect working on rebuilding London. All he wants is to be successful and live his life in peace and quiet. All his boss wants is to find a good match for his daughter Elena, and he thinks he’s found that match in Arthur. Arthur agrees to go out with her to get ahead at the firm, but the person he’s really interested in is her friend Merlin, and it turns out Elena has her own purposes for being with Arthur.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Contact High Author: Leandra Artist: Papysanzo Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: 84,292 Summary: After a toxic relationship, Arthur is afraid of getting hurt again, but then he meets Gwen, a scriptwriter he collaborates with in one of his film classes. To win her heart, he plans to cook her the best vegan food she has ever had. The idea would be brilliant, but Arthur is neither vegan, nor can he cook. In a desperate move, he enlists the help of Merlin, the obnoxious barista who works at his favourite coffee shop by day, and is a vegan food vlogger by night.

With his past as a young offender, and a history of addiction, Merlin can’t find a job as a chef, and his dream of opening his own restaurant someday seems unreachable. He pours all his passion into his food videos, but while his recipes and personality have what it takes, his video making skills are subpar at best.

Arthur and Merlin put their animosity aside and strike a deal: Merlin will cook for Gwen, and Arthur will claim he made the food, while in exchange, Arthur will help Merlin make better food videos. It seems the perfect way to meet everyone's needs …

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Where Gods Go Artist: mirayladraws Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: N/A - Art Summary: When Arthur Pendragon gets read in on the Animus project, the last thing he expects is to fall in love and get pulled into a war between Assassins and Templars.

Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Dave Author: Camelittle Artist: LFB72 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, side Gwen/Lancelot, side Morgana/Gwaine/Leon, early Merlin/Will, Various UK Panel Show Hosts, OCs, Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 60,342 Summary: Merlin - lover of crunchy fried snacks and secret admirer of his straight flat mate, Arthur - never expected to have a career in comedy. But after trying stand-up on a successful open mic night at university, he finds himself hooked. He and Arthur run a successful late night talk radio for a show for a while, but Arthur’s father intervenes. After a misunderstanding forces them into conflict, Merlin vows never to see Arthur again, to protect his own soft, pathetic, pining heart. Which would be fine, if the UK comedy circuit weren’t so small. But for some reason, they keep bumping into one another - at comedy festivals, and on radio and TV panel shows - and despite everything, the chemistry that made their radio show so popular in the distant past grows stronger than ever.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Reluctantly in Love Author: chaosgenes Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, minor Lancelot/Guinevere Rating: Explicit Word count: 29,923 Summary: Arthur has waited for Naming Day all his life, but could not be more disappointed when he finds out who the Soul Stone names for him. It isn’t the prisoner he meets in the dungeons, but his heart aches for him anyway.

Merlin has never thought about soulmates until they come knocking at his door in Ealdor. Convinced that there’s something wrong with the Soul Stone, he travels to magic-banned Camelot to end its influence. He never thought that he would be enraptured by the crown prince who comes to interrogate him.

Story and Art are here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Of Oaths Made and Broken Author: Zorbo_Jorks Artist: aueth Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Mithian, Elena/Vivian, ft. The Knights, Gwen, Uther, and Morgause Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 48,323 Summary: Kilgwan just smiled— a gleeful presentation of far too many jagged teeth. He leaned forward on his throne and sang, “When the five of you I last did see, five promises you made to me! Three promises are broken now— one yet to test and one still sound.”

Arthur growled, and Morgana made a similar noise beside him.

“Are you serious?” she asked, “That was years ago!”

“A word given is a word to keep,” the creature sang back, ignoring the table’s shouts of dismay, “You sow lost words— dark gifts you reap.”

--------------

As children, Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, Elyan, and Leon made vows to a creature named Kilgwan in the catacombs of Camelot.

Years later, on the even of Arthur's prospective betrothal, they are whisked away to make ammends for breaking them. Merlin and Gwaine must make up for the prince's sudden absence by disguising the latter as Arthur to court Princesses Mithian, Vivian, and Elena in his place, all while Merlin tries to find Arthur and his friends before any ill befalls them.

Amid this, Morgause schemes to kill the Pendragons and Merlin pines for his prince, convinced his love cannot be.

It takes very little for the delicate web of problems to fall into chaos.

Story and Art are here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: All Winding Paths Lead Back Author: Imagined Artist: feuxx Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 76,250 Summary: “You’ll give me magical training?” Merlin asks.

Arthur smiles. “Yes, and training in courtly etiquette. I imagine Ealdor doesn’t have nobles?”

“We don’t have nobles, but we do have pigs. And chickens,” Merlin says. When Arthur raises his eyebrows at him, Merlin flushes heavily with embarrassment. “Oh, shut up. My lord.”

“Don’t talk to your king like that,” Arthur says, but he doesn’t actually seem very upset about it, even though Merlin sort of wants to hit himself in the face. “Welcome to Camelot, sorcerer-apprentice Merlin of Ealdor.”

Or: Merlin is sixteen when he comes to Camelot, vying for the new position of court sorcerer that has opened under King Arthur—a noble king, golden and lionhearted, who is trying to legalise magic in all of Albion. Of course, Merlin doesn't expect to be chosen.

But he is.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: And All the Bells Were Ringing (ARTWORK) Artist: SerpentineWizard12 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: N/A - Art Summary: “When he grew tired of swimming, Arthur waded out onto the bank and flung himself down without self-consciousness, lying back on his elbows between the roots of the nearest tree. Merlin lingered in the water for some minutes longer, watching the prince’s movements out of the corner of his eye, the way the water collected in the dips and hollows of his body and threatened to run all the way down. There was something unguarded about Arthur when he was like this; Merlin could think of only a handful of moments in which he had seen the prince without his veneer of distance and authority, and each one stood out in his memory like keys to a puzzle box, unravelling the complexity of Arthur’s personality one layer at a time.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here

[yen-sids-tournament]

Animated 2: Return to Neverland v The Pirate Fairy v Tinker Bell and the Legend of the NeverBeast

Return to Never Land {originial-Peter Pan (1953)} *spoilers?*

It follows Wendy's canonical daughter Jane, in every version of the story where Peter returns to the Darling's window, he meets Jane, and this story gives her her own adventure. with Wendy as a turn of the century child, it isn't too much of a stretch to assume Jane would be growing up in the middle of a deeply contentious time in British History, that being the London bombings of World War 2, and Unlike Wendy, whom needed to understand that she didn't WANT to never grow up and embrace her coming maturity as it arrives, Jane had been thrown into a position in her family where she had needed to grow up too fast, and in her trip to Neverland understand the importance of that child-like wonder she had nearly lost. As such, she starts out deeply skeptical and frustrated by the nonsensical nature of Neverland, and being more trusting of adults than of children whose attempts of 'playing with her' were little more than bullying with the thin veneer of 'just a game', which ultimately allows her to be manipulated by Hook. But even then manages to grow attached to the lost boys and connect with Peter and due to her inability to fly for most of the movie had almost fully integrated into the world of Neverland and became the first Lost Girl by the time of the third act. While it's held back by the painfully early 00's music it's ultimately a very compelling story about a child in a deeply traumatizing situation finding temporary haven in a place untouched by the war that had so deeply distorted her worldview and ultimately reclaiming her right to have a childhood after constant danger of death and destruction had nearly wrenched it from her entirely. (also there's no racist Native American stereotypes that exist just for the sake of themselves and could have easily been some sort of fantasy species but nahhh it was the 50s so native americans were SUPER okay to be racist about/s)

The Pirate Fairy {original-Tinker Bell (2008)}

>none submitted<

Tinker Bell and the Legend of the NeverBeast {original Tinker Bell (2008)}

It centres around Fawn aka the best Disney Fairy, KT Tunstell did the soundtrack which absolutely slaps and is unironically on my main playlist to this day. It made me cry when i watched it for the first and subsequent times. Its just so sweet and wholesome. Also apparently spice girl Mel B voiced a minor character in the UK release??? The voice casting alone makes this one of the franchises and films of all time.

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

An intro to my blog; Witchcraft, tarot, and general unhinged energy.

Bare-bones/TL;DR: My name is Frog or Froggo, whichever you prefer, I use he/him pronouns and this is a blog dedicated primarily to my practice as a witch. I do tarot readings over on Ko-FI, as well as some on here that are donation-based (You tip if you want, but you don't have to.) Donation-based readings are temporary to promote the paid readings, and I'll be closing requests once I feel I have a decent amount of people interested (or if i find that it isn't working and I'm just instead giving free readings and no paid readings.) Send in an ask for a donation-based reading, or head on over to my Ko-Fi if you want more of a guarantee that I'll get to your reading/want your reading prioritized. Please check the bottom of this post for what readings I do/don't do before sending an ask.

Me:

I go by Froggo or Frog

He/him pronouns

Trans, panromantic, polyamorous, and just generally queer.

auDHD

20

Quiet sunshine and rainbows type of guy, until you get to know me and then suddenly I won't shush and I keep talking about psychological horror

interests outside of witchcraft include writing, Genshin Impact (I promise I don't associate with the fandom they scare me so bad), music, anime, and "weird miscellaneous facts."

My craft:

I've been practicing off and on for about four years, but I've been around witchcraft my whole life. I no longer consider myself a beginner, but I wouldn't consider myself a beacon of knowledge either lol. I know enough to be comfortable practicing on my own, and giving others a few resources. If I ever post something with inaccurate information, something that appropriates any closed practices, or something that is otherwise not advisable, PLEASE let me know!

My interests in witchcraft include Tarot/oracle cards, deity work, crystals, and working with dragons. (Although, that last one is very new to me so I have very little experience to share so far.)

My work as a witch has begun to shape out as involving things that others fear and reject. I personally find this hilarious considering that I used to be so scared of everything.

I work with Persephone, Hades, Medusa, my familiar, Loki, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Khaos. They appeared to me in that order, with Aphrodite and Khaos being fairly recent additions as I'm typing this. (5/12/24) Note that this is a list of EVERYONE I work with at all, and some of them (like Medusa) only rarely show up in my life currently while others are more active.

I have a sideblog about my work with dragons, @officially-other, but it's so heavy on UPG, identity talk, feelings, etc. that I keep it separate from this blog. It's brand new as of editing but I plan on it being completely transparent.

Things to expect from me: An unreasonable amount of witchcraft memes, lots of fun little stories about my guides/deities and interactions with them, general stories about my craft. My asks are open, but I may not always have an answer to any questions! See the "not a beacon of knowledge" bullet point earlier.

DNI: Racists, misogynists, trans/homophobes, ableists, bigots of any kind, pɘdo, I feel like I'm forgetting something but overall just don't be an asshole okay??? Plz???? Thank you. 16+ minors are okay, below that you can follow and lurk just please don't start a proper conversation. (/lh, lighthearted)

TERMS FOR READINGS

READINGS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED <3 If you see a post saying readings are open, however, ignore this i probably just forgot to edit^^

Yes I know this is a bit long. I don't require that you read this but I don't answer asks with problems that could be solved by just reading this.

Readings I will do:

General readings

Love readings (PLEASE check that it doesn't fall under "won't do" first)

Readings with a specific deity or entity ( + channeled typing. Unlike paid readings, for the sake of my energy levels free readings only get one paragraph at the end of the reading rather than anything I get throughout the reading.)

Pretty much anything that isn't on the "wont" list. (I reserve the right to say 'no' if something is brought up that I'm uncomfortable with but didn't think to put below.)

Readings I wont do:

Physical health readings (go see a professional)

Anything that constitutes "mind reading" (instead of "how does [person] truly feel" try "what's left being unsaid" or "what do I need to know" type questions.)

Sexual readings

Readings on a voice chat/call (yet)

Deity Identification readings (just not confident in them)

future spouse readings for free (I will do them paid, I just do the free readings to promote + for fun, and future spouse readings aren't fun for me)

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Jonathan Nicholson at HuffPost:

Donald Trump’s “guilty” verdict on 34 counts of falsifying business records in his hush money trial could make it harder for the Senate to get much work done in the next few months — at least, if a group of pro-Trump senators has their way. Eight Republican senators said Friday they would try to slow down the Senate’s business in response to the verdict. Unlike the House, the Senate runs its day-to-day business under small, temporary agreements between the majority Democrats and minority Republicans. It’s a system that can be undermined sometimes by even one obstinate senator.

“The White House has made a mockery of the rule of law and fundamentally altered our politics in un-American ways. As a Senate Republican conference we are unwilling to aid and abet this White House in its project to tear this country apart,” said the eight senators in a letter. Signatories included Sens. Mike Lee (R-Utah), J.D. Vance (R-Ohio), Tommy Tuberville (R-Ala.), Eric Schmitt (R-Mo.), Marsha Blackburn (R-Tenn.), Rick Scott (R-Fla.), Roger Marshall (R-Kan.) and Marco Rubio (R-Fla.). Specifically, the group promised three things: to not allow any increase in “non-security” funding or spending bills that fund “partisan lawfare”; to not vote for any of the White House’s political or judicial nominees; and to not allow faster consideration of Democratic legislative priorities “not directly relevant to the safety of the American people.”

“Those who turned our judicial system into a political cudgel must be held accountable,” Lee said in a social media post about the letter. “We are no longer cooperating with any Democrat legislative priorities or nominations, and we invite all concerned Senators to join our stand.”

8 felon-coddling Republican Senators signed a letter that they’ll muck up even more business in the Senate in protest of the guilty verdict handed down by a jury in the Trump business records falsification trial.

The 8 signatories are: Mike Lee, J.D. Vance, Tommy Tuberville, Eric Schmitt, Marsha Blackburn, Rick Scott, Roger Marshall, and Marco Rubio.

Surprisingly, Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, and Tom Cotton didn’t sign on to it.

[apartmentsmoke]

Avoiding Buddie Fics in the BuckTommy Ao3 Tag

@kinard-buckley Filtered tags for you to avoid Buddie fics in the BuckTommy tag. I included Buck/Eddie/Tommy fics in the filters here too. First, I use a custom search that filters out Buddie and Buck/Eddie/Tommy from the Relationships field. In the search field, put: -filter_ids:37467886 -filter_ids:108840544 After that, I go into Additional Tags and filter out: Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Minor Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Pining Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Jealous Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz/Tommy Kinard, Not Actually Unrequited Love

That gets most of the tagged ones. There's a few freeforms I've run across; it's unlikely someone will use them again, but if you want them: "eddie's pining a little bit in the background don't worry about it", "basically everyone knows apart from Buck and Eddie", "implied jealous eddie", "buddie speculation by maddie", "or about buddie but you can read it as pre-relationship", "Eddie Diaz realizes something about himself"

Unfortunately there's still a few fics out there that imply Buddie getting together / Buck pining for Eddie or vice-versa / Tommy being a temporary relationship that aren't tagged at all, but this should filter the majority out.

[thoscheienjoyer]

A cute little story about the 3rd Doctor and his Master being forced to dance together during an alliance. Bonus points for the almost kissing trope!

The Doctor stepped into a ballroom with the Master following close behind, the ambiance of the music matched their tension. Shapeshifters had forced the pair into an unwanted and unlikely alliance, the Master can't rule earth if it's been taken or destroyed by someone else, he had said when asked. The Doctor adjusted his jacket as his eyes scanned the room searching for any sign of the alien threat. "Remember," he said quietly, "we can't let it slip away. We need to blend in."

His temporary companion snorted, his disdain evident. "And your brilliant plan to blend in involves what, exactly?"

"Why, dancing of course, what else?" The man chuckled, like it was the obvious solution.

"You cannot be serious."

"Oh, but I am. If we just stand here, we'll draw attention. The alien will notice and flee." The Doctor offered a hand and the Master sighed dramatically before taking it. "Very well, Doctor. But if you step on my toes—"

The Doctor interrupted with an eye roll. "Yes, yes, I'll lead." He offered. The Master scoffed and had the urge to pull his hand away but he managed to stay still. "What makes you think you should lead?"

"I'm taller," the Doctor pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and after a moment's hesitation, the Master reluctantly agreed. They began to dance on the floor and sway seamlessly into the crowd. The Master, true to his nature, kept occasionally "accidentally" stepping on his dance partner's foot, getting an annoyed expression each time. Despite the minor sabotage he couldn't help but be impressed, the Doctor moved with surprising grace and confidence.

Without warning, the other timelord spun him out and then pulled him close before leading into an elegant dip. The Master's eyes widened in shock and humiliation as he found himself bent backward, supported only by the Doctor, he clung on expecting to be dropped. Laughter and applause erupted around them, adding to his mortification.

"I wouldn't drop you" the Doctor laughed as he brought the Master back up.

He glared, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You enjoy this while it lasts but my next scheme will make these aliens seem like a minor inconvenience." It was a threat, funny being in this state.

"Promises, promises," the Doctor teased and scanned the room again, this time he actually caught something. There was a suspicious figure standing near the refreshment table. He nodded discreetly towards the Master. "There. By the punch bowl." He whispered.

The Master followed his gaze and spotted the alien. "I see it. Let's go." They disentangled themselves from the dance, moving with purpose towards their target. Despite their bickering and the Master's bruised ego, they were a formidable team when united against a common foe. They neutralized the threat and the guests assumed it was part of the evening's entertainment.

"Well, that was a fun collaboration," the Master remarked smoothing back his hair. And the Doctor nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. "Indeed. Good work, Master."

The Master paused but there was a glint of reluctant respect hidden in his eyes.

The Doctor cleared his throat and began to speak "you know, we never did finish our dance."

His old friend looked at him confused. "Doctor, the threat is neutralized. There's no need to continue."

Once again the Doctor offers a hand. "Consider it a farewell if you like." And once again the Master hesitated before taking it. He sighed, a small almost smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. But just this once." The music had slowed to a gentle waltz as they moved to the dance floor once more. The Master placed his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, while the Doctor rested his hands on the Master's hips.

The dance was slower this time, more intimate. The Master found it embarrassing, but a quick glance around the room reassured him that if anyone dared to mock them, he could easily handle the situation. Their faces were close, closer than he was comfortable with and the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them in their private bubble of time and space. For a moment, an unspoken tension rose to the surface, daring them to draw their faces even closer. The Master's hearts raced, and he could see the Doctor's eyes flicker with something he didn't know. It was almost as if they might-

The Master abruptly pulled away, flushing with a mixture of confusion and irritation. "Well, Doctor, this has been... enlightening. But I really must be going."

The Doctor watched him all while feeling unresolved. "Until next time, Master."

He nodded and then turned on his heel to stride out of the ballroom, he was eager to escape the confusing whirlwind of emotions in him. The Doctor stood there for a moment, watching the Master retreat and trying to process what almost happened too. The dance had been more than a cover and it was a dance they seemed to be destined to repeat in their eternal game of cat and mouse.

[oblivious-troll]

Going to drop by here and say that I absolutely adore your Mermay entry with the Jalim snippet your wrote 🩷🩷

Now I gotta ask how you envisioned their first meeting went like ? How did they cross paths and how did such an unlikely romance between a merman and siren unfold ?

Thank you! I'm glad you like it ♥️ I might have gone a bit overboard with this answer, so bare with me, lol

---

I think they'd meet pretty simular to how they meet in the game, kind of forced to work together to survive and the longer they get to talking the more they tease and flirt until, oops! They're in love!

For different reasons they're both looking for a place to establish as their territory, Salim to settle down and live a peacefully secluded life when his old territory gets too filled with predators, Jason to get out of his old pod he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with (Sirens are solo creatures once old enough to live on their own, until they mate and then they keep to just two and their young until they also grow up and leave. Merfolk are more pod oriented, usually in groups of 10-20, but solo merfolk aren't unheard of.)

They both come across this old ship wreck in a large cave, the perfect bit of territory to claim as a home. Neither know who got there first, bumping into each other not long after they get there- a short fight ensues but is cut short when a minor earthquake has the cave shaking and the entrance is blocked off when a chunk of rock is shook loose and falls.

The alliance is temporary and unstable at the beginning, both expecting the other to suddenly attack and that when they find another exit the territorial battle will continue. Maybe that was once the plan for both of them, but the environment has a way of interfering.

The cave goes deep, way deeper than either thought, and it's filled with octopus of various sizes, seeming to get bigger and more aggressive as they go down. Too many times are they grabbed by Giant Pacific Octopuses, Salim needing to take the brunt of them because he can withstand their toxic bites better than Jason- not immune like poison, but resistant enough to shrug off a good solid few. Not that Jason lets him take any bites, throwing himself back into the battle whenever a beak gets too close to Salim.

Distracted by the octopuses, it takes a while for them to notice that there's a lot of ship wrecks down here too... way too many with splintered wood suggesting they'd been dragged.

And at the center of it all, in the deepest pit of this hellish cave they've found themselves trapped in, lay a Kraken.

They thank Neptune that it sleeps, carefully maneuvering through the landmine of octopuses, unable to swim too high off the ground without disturbing the Kraken.

It's a mad dash at the end, jumped by an octopus that shreaks as Salim jabs in through with an old bar torn off a ship they'd passed earlier. Not such a stupid accessory after all when Salim had been fighting fine with his teeth, tail and claws up until now.

Jason's relived when they make it out of the Kraken's nest, turning around to laugh his stress and adrenaline off with Salim... but Salim's not there.

He doesn't hesitate a second, diving back into what has to be of the most dangerous place in the sea, swimming as fast as his tail will take him.

Salim’s in trouble, struggling to get multiple octopuses off him, claws chipped from overuse and too many scratches from strong beaks, suction cup cuts and bruises on the scaleless bits of his skin.

Jason’s helping Salim up just in time as a giant tentacle spears into the ground where his head had been, he keeps Salim's hand in his own as he dashes for the crevice too small for a Kraken- he's moving so fast he can't stop when he sees another tentacle of the now awake beast try to strike again, he just braces for impact and hopes Salim will make it.

A shriek louder than anything Jason's heard pierces the air and shakes their surrounds. He looks up to see the tentacle flail back, a distinct metal bar pierced through it. He gives Salim an incredulous look, and Salim's shit eating grin confirms it. The bastard speared it with the bar.

There's no time to think as they flee, hardly time to recuperate either as a bunch of octopuses try and follow them- they're lucky they find an exit on the other side of the vast cave only needing to kill a few more, but they have the advantage in the open and the blood of the octopuses lure out other sea creatures that thankfully aren't interested in either of them, seals the biggest help.

They don't part ways after this, continuing to search for a territory that will be best for both of them instead. And when they finally do, mating is the next step for them :)