#some innate reason why i'm doing this

[strawberry-pretzels]

i really don't know why i feel like changing a lot of things lately like pfps or themes and wallpapers

[accursedthing]

This election was decided by a Democratic candidate that refused to campaign on anything but "I'll do as little as possible to change anything" to an overwhelmingly dissatisfied population. You can blame every individual voter who didn't do what you wanted them to, or you can blame one actor we all knew was doing it wrong, who was yelled at for months that they were doing it wrong, and did it anyway. Are we really going to blame the political actors and system that created this situation or a public whose voice is repressed at every opportunity? Be serious

[sabertoothwalrus]

do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?

that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.

The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.

It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.

Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.

Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:

she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.

She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)

VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.

Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.

it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.

If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.

I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.

But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?

We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.

So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.

[ochibrochi]

spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

[comicaurora]

Do you think ethics are just an attempt at being a healthier form of selfish?

In one of your Detail Diatribes where Batman confronts Catwoman and tries to stop her from killing Falcone, you highlighted the fact that his reasoning was not to protect her father, but to try and save her. Ever since, some very strange ideas about the nature of selfishness and selflessness have been rattling around my head.

It only started coming into focus when I tried to put into words why it was a bad thing that D-16 killed Sentinel Prime. My best answer right now is because it made D-16 into Megatron. Orion wasn't trying to save Sentinel, he was trying to protect the cybertronian people. Maybe if Orion focused more on saving D-16, they wouldn't have lost their friendship and all of Cybertron would be better for it. Of course, in the end, Megatron was the deciding factor in making himself, caring more about his pride than his current identity, but this highlights a strange selfish quirk in sustainable selfless behavior.

If you are purely selfless you suffer from spending more of yourself than you have to give. If you're too selfish you can't maintain the human connections that are a requirement for being a complete and healthy person. It leaves the best options as being selfless to make your environment an easier one for you to live in. Where your actions for others are repaid by the selflessness from your community. Or, being selfish with your charity. Taking care of what you care about because their well being positively contributes to your own.

To be fair, the opening sentence now looks like an incomplete thought. It probably should be asking if you think ethics is just an attempt at being a more healthy form of selfish and selfless. Really, just asking if ethics is meant to make you better at being a person, which seems like a question that can answer itself. Still, it feels like an important insight to highlight that to be ethical isn’t about how much of your own life you're willing to sacrifice. It's hard to be a good person when you're not a person anymore.

This is a fascinatingly deep question, and I'm very tickled that our two touchpoints in it are a transforming robot tank and Batman.

My personal opinion is that ethics and morals are not reflections of some universal truth of Justice and Goodness, as they are often framed, but are instead best-practice guidelines on how to function in the big, messy world without causing undue suffering to yourself and others. A facet of this is determining, case by case, how much you need to prioritize yourself vs how much you can afford to help others - in the framing you've proposed, selfishness vs selflessness.

Taking the specific examples we're focusing on - two cases where someone attempts to prevent a revenge killing for the benefit, not of the victim, but of the avenger - I think they reflect this worldview, that the killing is not seen as some innately universally-judged evil act that must be prevented for its own sake, but that the act of killing will harm the killer in a way the person trying to stop them doesn't want to see.

For Catwoman, committing premeditated murder wouldn't solve any of her problems in any way that arresting Falcone and having him legally unraveled would. It'd just park a first degree murder charge on someone who'd up til this point only dealt with petty larceny, and it would potentially weigh her down with misery and regret as she grappled with the trauma of taking a life.

For Megatron, killing Sentinel Prime wasn't a bad action because he deserved to live. They just spent that whole fight scene tearing through enemies. They're warriors on track to spend the next four million years killing each other; the whole "taking a life" ship has already sailed. The problem is that Sentinel is a symbol and a structural part of the political narrative in the founding of the next stage of Cybertron's society. If the first thing the new regime does is bloodily avenge itself on the face of the old regime for the personal wrongs it did them, that proves that the only thing they care about is personal satisfaction of their individual desires - just like Sentinel. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. If they can instead take a step back, think of the good of Cybertron as a whole, enforce a rule of law and a fair system of justice that applies equally to everyone, even on someone they personally loathe, that would signify integrity and credibility and the hallmark of wise, just and fair leadership capable of setting aside personal feelings for the greater good. It's not about Sentinel; it's about whether the satisfaction of killing him is worth the price of enforcing forever that personal vendettas are more important than the well-being of the people of Cybertron. Which makes it really obvious which one Megatron is going to pick.

My hottest take, and I mean this very genuinely, is that most of the human perception of what constitutes goodness and justice is one thousand percent based on vibes, and is extremely susceptible to narrative reframing. We see an unsympathetic victim (Sentinel Prime, Falcone) who has gleefully caused suffering to innocent people (so judged because they are framed sympathetically, not because we've actually enumerated their lifelong actions to determine they've never done anything wrong) and we feel (feel) that it would be right and just for them to suffer consequences (emphasis on suffer) because that would balance the scales on this vibes equation and that would make us feel like justice had been served. Would this suffering lead to any material good? Not inherently. Would it heal the victims? Not usually. Would it remove the source of the problem? Categorically not, what with how negative reinforcement works (or rather does not work.) It also wouldn't do anything about the other people empowered by the same system to be just as shitty in just as many ways that just happen to be offscreen from our POV. But it feels fair. So what is justice, if it reduces down to "I want them to hurt for the hurt they've caused me"? If it can be sated with a spectacle or distracted by a long nap and a good joke to let the feeling fade? What purpose does this justice serve if it is devoted wholly to the satiation of a bone-deep chordate-brain hunger for Retributive Violence rather than towards actually ensuring that the lives of those harmed are healed and supported and built up again after being broken down? (This is the entire core character arc in The Batman, btw, I'm not just monologuing for no reason here. He calls himself Vengeance for a reason, and the reason is he's doing Batman wrong)

That feeling - that white-hot burning core of Righteous Fury - is the unexamined heart of many systems of morality that focus, not on doing good, but on exacting satisfying retribution on Bad People Who Deserve It, categorized as People Who I Can Hurt Without Feeling Bad Myself. It's a very tempting concept for people who have suffered at others' hands. That feeling, that powerful instinctual understanding of "that's unfair," is incredibly strong. In my opinion, most systems of ethics are built, not around relitigating what is Good and what is Bad per se, but in trying to shape and curb that bone-deep, unbelievably powerful desire to rend the flesh from the bones of your tormenters.

But I mentioned that feeling is susceptible to narrative reframing. This is, as I understand it, a huge part of lawyering. Tell the story of what happened using true events and adding no falsehoods, but highlight the parts that make it feel like your client is the one who is being treated unfairly. They're not an unsympathetic wrongdoer who you can punish without personal moral stain - they're a loving spouse, a parent of three adorable children, they have a really cute puppy, they donate to charity, they're a wonderful conversationalist, a kind friend, etc etc. All those things can also be true of people who do terrible things, but thinking about them defuses that White Hot Core by making us sympathize with the sympathetic parts of them.

This is incredibly well-understood in fiction. It's the whole reason the tropes Kick The Dog and Pet The Dog exist. When you want the audience to root for a character's destruction, leave aside any of their potential quiet moments of sympathy - their tragic backstory, their cute pet, their adorable relationship with their mom - and instead show them going out of their way to commit some minor act of petty cruelty, say Kicking The Dog. The audience will infer that this badness is 24/7 and they have no reason to curb their enthusiasm for Righteous Vengeance. But if the writer wants the audience to see a spark of good in them, to sympathize, to believe they can be redeemed, they'll highlight one of those small moments of charming kindness, and allow them to Pet The Dog instead.

Neither of these acts, in the grand scale, have any bearing on the morality of this person's actions. A pet dog doesn't counterbalance a razed village; a kicked dog doesn't negate a generous contribution to the local soup kitchen. Goodness and badness is not a linear scale added or subtracted to by opposing deeds. BUT showing them to an audience reframes them narratively, and THAT is what shapes the judgment of the White Hot Burning Core. In the space of fiction, this form of bottom-shelf emotional manipulation is one of the cleanest ways to get the audience to root for the messy destruction of what is ostensibly, in the universe of the fiction, a wholly complex and living person who definitely has reasons for everything they've done, even ones that could be framed sympathetically when shown.

Meanwhile, in the real world, ethics are an attempt to judge what is best in a given situation without trusting the White Hot Burning Core to make the call, no matter how compelling "but it would feel really good though" might seem. They try to give someone perspective, context, other priorities to consider. The White Hot Burning Core might want you to rip someone's arms off for driving slow when you've got important places to be, but Ethics can present a number of compelling reasons not to do that - even if it's just "ripping their arms off will definitely make me even more late." And yes, this can be a balance of Selfishness Vs Selflessness. You are one of the people whose wellbeing ethics is designed to make you prioritize improving even if it feels weird, and when all other things are equal, your own health and happiness can be the deciding factor. In a world with an overarching Moral Force that weighs the goodness of your soul by sifting through every grain of action and intent seeking negativity to punish you for, absolute selflessness to the point of self destruction would still probably be seen as Morally Wrong, simply because the universe is a better place with you in it trying your best.

Anyway, if doing the right thing was simple, easy and painless, we probably wouldn't have so many thousands of years of arguing about what it looks like. Good luck out there everybody 👍

[glazedcroissant]

Been thinking about Galacta knight and his use of fire. I've actually got a few headcannons about it if you want to have a read!:

So! I've actually got a whole system worked out for how I think magic in the Kirby universe might work, but let's just look at this goof first. *puts him under a magnifying glass*

To start, every mage has their own unique form of Energy magic. It's essentially their "default" manifestation of mana; the caster's most natural state of magic. It is generally seen as the safest type of magic to use, easily channeled through the body and moldable enough to use in a wide range of spells. As a bonus, its drawbacks are small, requiring a mage to burn through nearly all their mana reserves before they'd have to deal with any advirse effects. Galacta knight uses this type of magic for things like his energy swords and abusing the laws of nature by using his own mana as an ill advised substitute for sleep.

Some find their Energy magic limiting on its own, prompting research into other forms of magic to tie into their spells, such as elemental magic.

Fire magic, like all elemental magic, can be quite costly against its user if not used with caution. Every use raises the caster's body temperature, leading to sweating and eventual coughing. Abuse of the element will envitably cause minor to severe burns at channeling sights, depending on one's tolerance and overuse. It is important to time attacks and casts far enough apart from each other to allow the body time to cool down again. Some learn counter elemental spells to cut down on this recovery time—such as water or ice magic to counter fire—but such rapid heating and cooling is dangerous and harmful to the body.

Galacta knight is an incredible fire mage, having a natural aptitude for it, given his affinity. The vast majority of magic users are born, or soon develop, an affinity to a specific kind of magic. They're brought into the world with an innate understanding of that type, though it may take some time before they realize what it is. Galacta knight's being fire gives him a better tolerance to its effects than most. Even so, he is not immune, and manifesting blisteringly hot flames within one's core is, generally, unrecommended (nevermind setting your whole body alight in a blaze of glory). It's typical to see mage's using weapons or heatproof gloves as their channeling sights to help prevent self-inflicted burns, and Galacta will typically use his lance or shield for this. However, spells can often be charged and fired off faster and more powerfully when expelled through the body alone. That, and breathing fire looks cool as hell. Galacta figures a parched throat and dry eyes for a couple hours is worth the payoff. He's tried the whole counter element deal to cool off faster, but Water magic doesn't mesh well with him. He lacks the the serenity and steady flow at his core to understand it.

Also! As a fun little addition. If you're wondering why I ting his fire pink, it's because that's the color of his natural Energy magic. Elemental magic is still dependent on the user's own mana pool, with it's appearance changing from mage to mage depending on the individual's natural magic properties.

This is just my own thoughts I've scraped together into the doughy mixing bowl of my brain, of course. And, like dough, these thoughts are subject to change and grow later on. I've got some thoughts on the ins and out of How elemental magic, and the other types, are cast in terms of the technical (l say loosely cause it's literally magic) aspects of them, but I don't have all those details ironed out yet. My mind is a fickle thing, never wanting to settle on one headcannon or another. It's part of the reason I hesitate to write and draw longer character scenes and interactions, my opinions of them constantly shifting. But! I do think I'm getting to the point where I can keep them somewhat consistent in my head. Thus, my little fire magic spiel.

[notyournecromancer]

being a POC in the Marauders/HP fandom is really interesting to me because it seems and feels like a really predominantly white space, which, hey, nothing new! and that does come with some challenges. for the most part, they're fairly under the radar.

it's things like being able to count the POC in a discord server on one hand, even though there's 100+ people in the community.

it's people not taking into account racial dynamics whether that be in a fic, or in a tiktok, tumblr, whatever. there are innate power imbalances in our society (regardless of what country you live in) and to assume because this fandom is a largely open, liberal and leftist space, that they don't carry over to fandom, is exceptionally naive. buuuuut, we live and learn, so people can and should be given a certain amount of grace. but what is unforgivable is to have them pointed out to you and for you to dismiss, ignore or belittle them. Not only that, but you as a white person, do not get to be the forgiving voice to another white person when they make one of these mistakes. please please please respect and understand that.

there's also (and i'm sorry if this is controversial and frankly it makes me really nervous to even write this), a trend of assigning ethnicities, cultures and races to characters in stories without having a proper understanding of them, or having a particular reason for doing so. I'm never going to sit here and say "you as a white person shouldn't write about ____ race!", because I don't believe that. but what I would really, really love to see, is for white creators and writers to ask themselves some questions beforehand:

what does the race of this character add to the story outside of me chasing clout with a particular group of people/is it necessary for me to be writing the lived experience of a culture/ethnicity I've never taken the time to learn about?

if so, why?

am i the right person to be doing this?

are my actions outside of my writing towards these POC reflective of this?

i also think it's really important to remember that unconscious bias is a thing, and it's really easy for us to spot in your writing if it isn't something you've addressed. Not only that, but even if you write the most well-researched POC in your fic, even if you're sharing posts about Lebanon and Palestine, none of that matters if your actions when interacting with us show us that you are indifferent to the power dynamics at play with you being a white person, often with a large audience, in this space. virtue signalling is spectacularly unhelpful if you're writing checks your ass can't cash.

that being said, I think throwing 'racist' around as a term at people who make mistakes is really unhelpful. because every situation has context and nuance, and dogpiling never helps anybody. there are opportunities for learning, developing and understanding here. but please remember, if a POC tells you something is upsetting, harmful or offensive - even if other POC haven't said that to you - it's not your place as a white person to dismiss that.

anyway, hope that helps, love u very much xo

[awearywritersworld]

weakness

gojo satoru x reader summary: you make the strongest sorcerer weak w/c: .54k tags/warnings: domestic fluff with a suggestive ending so 18+, gojo is irrevocably in love with you, the feeling is entirely mutual, gn!reader, no use of y/n a/n: we truly do not deserve him masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

there isn't a single sorcerer in all of japan unfamiliar with the name gojo satoru. he's known that since he was old enough to understand the innate techniques etched into his body.

and what a lonely existence it was. being the strongest leaves you with little else besides power.

perhaps that's why he finds himself so utterly consumed by you— the only thing in the world that makes him feel weak.

whenever your eyes find his own, his hands tremble. and whenever you give him that crooked grin, his knees nearly collapse beneath him.

he can't even begin to understand it. how someone like him could be lucky enough to belong to someone like you. he knows that a million lifetimes of effort would still leave him pathetically undeserving.

that's probably the reason he hesitates before entering your shared apartment each night. he wants nothing more than to come home to you, and yet, fear tugs in his heart at the prospect of it all having been some long, drawn out dream.

how else can he explain walking into the kitchen, finding you there covered in flour, looking impossibly beautiful? how else can he account for the way your face lights up upon seeing him?

"hey love," you greet him warmly and your voice feels like the answer to every prayer he's ever had.

his long, strong arms wrap you up in an instant, his face burrowing into your neck.

"hey," he breathes out, the heat fanning across your skin.

"'toru," you warn. "you're going to get flour all over your uniform!"

"s'okay, baby. i don't mind."

it's only when you move to hug him back that he fully relaxes against your body.

"how was your mission?"

he doesn't answer right away, reveling in your comforting embrace for a few seconds longer.

"it was alright," he offers, untangling himself from you and standing back up to his full height. "missed you."

"i missed you, too." you peer up at him, your eyes swimming with adoration. his heart clenches painfully at the sight. "but i made your favorite!"

you turn on the oven light, so he bends down for a glimpse at the pastry that's nearly finished baking.

his expression softens and he grabs your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone delicately. "how can i make you understand how much i adore you?"

despite the heat that creeps up your neck, you let out a breath of a laugh. "'toru it's only a pie."

he hums, "made just for me by my most favorite person in the world."

your lips curl into that lopsided grin he loves so much before you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him. he deepens it, his arms finding your waist and tugging your body towards his own possessively.

after a few moments, he pulls away just enough to plant a kiss to your nose, then your forehead, and finally both of your cheeks, savoring the way you giggle at his show of affection.

"okay, i think i'm starting to understand, but i might need just a little more convincing."

he gazes down at you with a smirk, the look in his eye suddenly mischievous. "yeah? maybe we can make another pie together, princess."

"..'toru!"

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Triple moon - Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Plot: The demigod son of Poseidon falls for the demigod son of Hecate. Cool powers and romance; best of both worlds!

Note: I've never read or watched Percy Jackson & the Olympians!! I'm sorry if any characters are OOC! Also, age demographic of Camp Half-Blood has been made to be 14-20s so all characters are 18+

Warnings: m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI Some nsfw mentions but no smut!

The moon. It was the one thing that you were most familiar with since you were a child. You never really knew why, but you knew that you had an affinity for it; it was as if you couldn't go a day without gazing at the celestial object or noticing it in the night sky. You did start to understand this innate connection you felt between you and the moon at around age 14; that was, of course, when you came into your demigod-hood. It started small. Dreams that would occur verbatim within the following week, almost like prophecies. If you wanted to know about someone or something, with enough cognitive effort the knowledge would just pop into your head, like some sort of divination. You found that certain phrases you spoke triggered a specific result as if you were casting spells. And what you especially noticed was that if the moon was shining its silver light, you felt alive; you felt as if you were breathing for the first time, as if blood flowed through your body for the first time in months. As soon as you informed your father of these strange quirks, he shipped you off to Camp Half-Blood as soon as he possibly could. Don't get him wrong! It wasn't because of any nefarious reasons, but your father knew that he couldn't help you truly comprehend your powers.

It felt rushed. Before you knew it, you were lodging with your half-siblings! That was something you definitely had to get accustomed to. But once you settled in at camp, you fit right in! Very quickly, you became quite popular. Cabin 20 had always been quite renowned; the descendants of Hecate were unique compared to the other demigods at camp. After all, whilst other campers had more specific powers, the children of Hecate inherited magic, sorcery, and witchcraft; if you trained enough, you could do almost anything. It almost felt unfair, you could theoretically have infinite abilities whilst other campers were stuck with one. But again, this unique ability of those in Cabin 20 led to the members being well-liked; rather than hated for winning the genetic lottery.

As time passed, you grew and your powers matured. You gave tarot and palm readings to your friends every new moon to inform them of what to expect in the coming month. You had memorised chant after chant and filled at least five notebooks with your spells. Potion brewing became second nature. And after training with other cabins, you even had some control over the elements. It was during your training with the elemental cabins that you made some of your closest friends. Amongst your closest friends was Percy Jackson. Everyone knew Percy; the energetic, brave, and most of all, caring, son of Poseidon. You often trained with him, honing your water manipulation and learning from the literal demigod of the sea. But you two became close friends very quickly outside of any sort of training.

'Very close friends' was how you two described your relationship, but to anyone with eyes, it was clear as day that there were some unspoken feelings between you and the ravenette. It was the way that Percy watched you fiddle with mana between your fingers when you got nervous; nothing but fascination and admiration in his emerald-like eyes. It was the way that you tended to any wound Percy had suffered from after some perilous battle or event, no matter how small the wound you felt that it deserved your utmost attention and magical healing. It was the way that Percy would stutter and blush when talking to you before forcing himself to regain his composure. Really, Percy couldn't be any more obvious with his feelings for you! And you couldn't deny how much you liked him; the man was so loyal to you and so caring! Seriously, if the son of Poseidon heard the smallest comment made about you, he would jump at the opportunity to defend you profusely. You could never bring yourself to try and talk about your relationship with Percy, though. You didn't wanna ruin things! It wasn't until all your friends practically forced you and Percy to talk, that your relationship actually went anywhere...

Percy wanted more than anything to tell you how he felt. How you made his heart flutter. How he couldn't get you out of his head. But despite being brave by nature, the son of Poseidon just couldn't. Not without a little help that is. Annabeth and Nico literally masterminded a plan that resulted in Percy and you being locked inside an empty cabin; some cryptic riddle your only clue to escaping. 'To be let out, you must do 600 push-ups. Or Percy can grow a pair - either or!' You were extremely confused. Percy on the other hand knew what your friends were on about; after all, the two demigods would constantly tease Percy about his crush on you and tell him to 'grow a pair' and confess already. And he did just that. Percy grew a pair and told you how he felt about you; there wasn't really any other choice! Your slightly shocked face and light blush terrified the man, but he kept going. Through the mess of compliments and weird metaphors, you got the message. And that was it. The two of you were official! Percy really had nothing to worry about; you reciprocated his feelings almost immediately!

Boyfriend Percy Headcanons ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

This man worships the ground you walk on. Percy is literally the embodiment of 'I love my boyfriend'. He'll compliment you constantly, and he won't shut up about how great and hot and powerful you are to anyone who'll listen.

Your friends tease the two of you all the time. Annabeth and Nico of course never shut up about how they're the only reason the two of you are even dating. But your other friends also take every opportunity to tease how whipped you and Percy are for each other! Thalia will constantly tell the two of you to get a room when you're gettin' a bit too comfortable with the PDA, Piper's very supportive of you two but will always make fake kissing noises when you so much as give Percy a peck, oh and Leo and Jason constantly jokingly mock how you and Percy lovingly hold each other or look into each other's eyes.

Percy is kinda enamoured with your magic. Like bro nerds out on it more than you do. Percy will watch you play with mana, he'll listen to you cast spells, he'll go out with you to collect moon water, and he'll constantly gift you crystals or potion materials.

Intimacy with Percy was slow to start; neither of you wanted to push the other too far. But after your first time, trust and believe that anytime you and Percy get some alone time in a secluded area, oh you two are making out until you have to physically pry yourselves off of each other!

Oh I actually give up with this fic. Get it out of my sight. Now. -_-

[sooniebby]

Alr bro I am BACK from the Malevolent Kitchen- So this whole thing takes place in the Heian era, when Sukuna was at his strongest and walking around as a four armed, tall monster of a man (he has two massive dicks I am not being told otherwise don't even play, lad)

Reader (do I even gotta say it? I'm real predictable let's be fr 💀) as Sukuna's favourite shrine keeper- as he's speaking to some sorcerers (prolly begging for mercy or smth), he calls the reader over and commands him to strip and warm his (massive) cocks, all the while the poor sorcerers are just fucking sitting there. Eventually, he gets tired of the reader just warming his cocks and commands him to start moving, scoffing when the reader is too slow for his liking- ultimately he just grabs the reader's hips with his lower pair of arms, using him like a fleshlight,,,,,,,

ALSO if and only if you are feeling up to it,,,,, skip to modern day when Sukuna gets incarnated again and is immediately like okay where the fuck is reader (he's been alive with Uraume, which is why he hasn't physically aged, either) so he can drag the reader into his innate domain and get his dick wet after centuries of no bf :((( kinks- degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism

ఌ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

꧁ 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 9.1k

Warnings › first time ever writing Sukuna. Reader is trans male and he has breasts. Use of breasts and chest is interchangeable. Pussy, cunt, and hole are also used. Sukuna is still very mean but I made him just a little bit nicer, cuz romance lmao. Mentions of suicide. Boku is the JPN male version of I. Reader slurs his speech a lot

Kinks › degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism, nipple play, creampie, breast/chest play

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Wakizashi.

That’s what your dad called it. A Wakizashi. Shorter than a katana, larger than a dagger. The only weapon a civilian could handle in broad daylight without being seen as a threat. Many used it as a way to commit suicide.

He told you to use it for that reason.

It was the only good thing you could do.

The Fujiwara clan was powerful. No doubt about it. And while your father wasn’t the strongest, he was well respected. Many were excited when his wife was pregnant with you. Even when you came out as a girl, they weren’t too disappointed. Even a woman could be a strong sorcerer.

But you never did.

You had a curse technique.

But it was weak. It was fully based on defense.

The technique to manipulate shadows. But it was only your own. You could hide well but how does that help you in combat?

Didn’t help when you started spewing “nonsense” of not being a woman.

That earned you multiple whippings.

Everyone in the clan stopped paying attention to you after that moment. Your back covered in scars.

And the one large scar across your face.

Your Wakizashi flickered in the soft pale moonlight. The gold casing shining proudly. You took great care of it.

The harsh patters of feet caught your attention. You stood up from your makeshift mat, shuffling over to the small crack in your dilapidated cabin. It was practically a box. You glanced out, seeing multiple assassins hurriedly rushing out.

It looked to be the entirety of the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and then Five Empty Generals. Odd.

You shrugged it off, going back to lay down. You turned your attention back to your Wakizashi. It was the only thing you had in this box. You flicked your wrists, practicing your technique.

Even though you were weak, you still practiced everyday. With a sigh, you collapsed onto the bed. The rebellions you used to do as a child seemed so silly now. Cutting your hair, bathing with men, wearing male kimonos. Just to be locked away in the corner of your own home.

The door was unlocked but they made sure to make you fear even pushing it open.

Your mother took pity on you, being the one to deliver you food. You were sure that if she didn’t, you would’ve starved to death. But she seemed to be late today.

The soft sound of wind creaked against the old box. It shook slightly, always threatening to just collapse over you. Your eyes fluttered closed, clutching your Wakizashi close. It was only a few minutes later when the sounds of screaming caught your attention.

“He’s here!”

“Do not run away! We are the Toh!”

You sat up, staring at your door as the screams women, men, and even children reverberated through the cabin. Your grip tightened around the Wakizashi, bringing it up to your chest. Slowly, you crawled over to the door, pulling it inward to peek outside.

The sight… was horrific.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Weapons scattered. Arms detached. Heads rolling off bodies. Even a few bodies didn’t have the upper half. Many sliced into pieces.

You wanted to vomit. Who was doing this?

The Toh… was defeated.

You stepped outside the cabin, your bare feet touching the soft grass. The grass was colored red as you walked over to the piles of bodies. Your eyes scanning them, being able to name at least a fraction of the corpses. Underneath one, your mother’s eyes stared right at you.

Your breathing hitched, your hand clamping around your mouth. Despite the cruelty they gave you—it was difficult seeing them like this. The further you walked to the entrance of the Toh estate, the more gruesome each body became.

A few just being blood splattered against the floor.

“(Name).”

You shrieked, feeling a hand grasp your leg. It wasn’t someone you knew but her eyes were filled with fear. Blood trickled down her face.

“Run…. For your own sake.” She whispered.

Your eyes trailed over her body before you backed away.

The lower half of her body was gone.

Her arm fell down as her eyes closed.

You needed to run. If people as powerful as your clan were dropping like flies, you’d be killed immediately if this thing came to see you.

You began to run. Ignoring the bodies you had to jump or step over. You kept your eyes straight ahead. The Wakizashi tight in your grip. You hoped and prayed you would make it out free.

“Sukuna, is there any you want for dinner later?”

A horrid gasp left your body as you skid to a stop.

Your dad’s head hung from the grasp of a person. They were dressed in a kimono, short white hair. They held your father’s head up to a… thing behind them. The thing took your father’s head and examined it before tossing it aside.

“Not that one. Look for another.”

Its voice shook your body. The two of them were speaking as if they were looking at meat. Did they eat humans? But the white haired one looked like a human. You didn’t get the chance to think further when they suddenly turned over to you.

“Was something there?” The white haired one asked.

They saw nothing. The spot you once stood was empty, the only sight being corpses. They turned over to the thing, Sukuna.

“Go look for acceptable meat, Uraume.”

“Yes, Sukuna.”

Uraume began to move a few of the bodies about, looking for one that was acceptable for Sukuna. Sukuna hummed, cracking his neck as he looked around. His staggering form covered in blood. He stared in the direction of where you once stood.

You kept silent, staring right back at him. You had hastily summoned your curse technique, making yourself invisible to the naked eye. Your curse technique allowed you to hide in the shadows and even manipulate your own to hide yourself.

But it wasn’t strong, you could never hold it for longer than five minutes. And you haven’t eaten all day, you were weak. Hiding yourself physically didn’t hide any noises you made. So you clamped your lips shut, trying to not breathe, hoping he’d look away.

If you moved, he’d surely hear your footsteps, especially with how quiet it was. Your knuckles turned white as you clamped tightly at your Wakizashi.

Unable to hold it any longer, you let out a soft huff, pulling in as many air as possible.

But that was enough for Sukuna.

A large puff of air attacked you as you lost control of your technique, suddenly becoming visible. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock as you stared up at Sukuna.

He was large. Four arms and two faces. His eyes narrowed at you, glancing over you as he began to smirk. Blood covered his body. You knew your father and mother’s blood was mixed in there.

“How could I have missed you? You puny little thing.” He reached over to grab your hair but it went right through your body. Sukuna huffed, slightly confused on what just happened.

Your other ability, besides just becoming one with shadows, was the short ability to make your body unable to be touched. Sukuna pulled back clamping his fist before thrusting it into your chest.

It went through, but he didn’t kill you. Sukuna pulled his arm away, his head tilting. He didn’t look angry, on the contrary. He looked amused.

You quickly pulled the sheath off your Wakizashi and stood up on shaky legs. You had never fought. Never even used the Wakizashi against a real opponent besides a tree.

Sukuna chuckled. “Do your best.” He said, grinning. It was no encouragement. He didn’t even move into a fighting stance. Just from a look at you, he knew he was going to win.

“Domain Expansion: Moonlight Paradise.”

Dark matter spilled out from the ground as it formed into an orb around you and Sukuna. Your domain wasn’t strong. It wasn’t anything that helped you win fights.

It was a paradise.

A crescent moon shined, adding light to the otherwise dark domain. Spider lilies grew from the ground, surrounding you like a barrier of protection. A large sakura tree sprouted from the ground, growing tall as it quickly blossomed.

You shivered as you looked up at Sukuna. A feeling of bile filled your throat as you doubled over and coughed out blood. Sukuna looked at you with disgust, the hell was this?

“Is this your best?” He asked, stepping over to you. He was hoping for some sort of fight. But this was all you had to offer? A piss poor attempt at a domain.

You held out your Wakizashi, handing the hilt to Sukuna.

“If… die…” You winced, unsure of how to explain yourself. You weren’t taught to speak. Not after your whipping at age 9. And with everyone no longer speaking to you, you hadn’t spoken in years. Your voice was hoarse, struggling to work after years of being dormant.

You made the effort to write and read. But you stopped speaking. You hated your voice. This female voice that wasn’t yours.

Even now, just hearing your voice made you angry.

It’s a shame you were going to die with this voice.

“If…I…must die…You…willdo..bymy…Wakizashi.”

“Boku?” Sukuna muttered, staring at you. His eyes roamed your body. You weren’t a man. Not by the sight of your ample chest. You were wearing a female kimono. But your hair was cut short by a blade, judging by the jagged ends.

“Boku!” You screamed, glaring at him. You weren’t going to die being misgendered. You were going to die with the pride of being a male.

Sukuna grabbed the Wakizashi. It was small in his large hand. He lazily spun it around, making you slightly worried that he’d break it.

“You call yourself a man but you give up so easily?” He tossed the Wakizashi to your feet. “Pick it up. You have a technique, use it.”

You bent down, picking it up. “Nouse…strongerthan… me.” You could tell he had a bit of trouble understanding you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your death to be over with.

“Why the domain?”

“diein…pretty…place..”

Sukuna glanced around. Your domain seemed to be just for aesthetic. There wasn’t any hint of anything else brewing inside. Nothing that was waiting to attack him. You really seemed set on dying without a fight.

You knew your place quite well.

He liked that.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Your own peaceful domain was torn to shreds as red covered the sky. A large Buddhist shrine grew out of the ground behind Sukuna. Skulls decorated it. It looked to be human skulls. The ground beneath you became dark water.

But your spider lilies stayed alive. The crescent moon still shining down on you.

Sukuna sat down on his throne, his leg resting against the arm. He stared down at you, his eyes roaming you from his new position over you.

The Sakura tree died, disappearing like a puff of smoke. You collapsed to the floor and coughed heavily, the toll of opening your domain already affecting your body.

“Are you from the Toh?” He suddenly asked.

You mutely nodded.

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, trying to ignore the growing pit of fear in your belly. He smirked, leaning forward. One of his hands resting on his knee. The other holding up his chin.

“I find you interesting. I’ll allow you to live, as my shrine keeper. Once I’m bored, I’ll kill you.”

“inmy…domain..?”

“If that’s what you desire.”

Despite the voices in your head tell you to not accept, you nodded. You knew at most, this curse would only let you live for a day or two before he kills you. At the very least, you’d get to enjoy Earth’s beauty in the fullest.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re filthy.”

A basin of water poured over your head as you shivered outside, fully nude. Your arms tightened around your chest as you were soaked twice before a rag began to rub against your body.

It was Uraume. They weren’t impressed that Sukuna had chosen to keep you alive. You were weak, what did Sukuna gain from keeping you?

But Uraume didn’t question it. They knew their limitations.

“When was the last time you bathed?”

You winced, being roughly manhandled to face Uraume as they kneeled down, scrubbing between your legs.

“River…bathein..River.”

Uraume hummed. Their hand trailed upward, unabashedly scrubbing your pussy before moving to your ass. “What’s your technique? Or were you not blessed with one?”

“Shadows.”

“How does it work?”

You bit your lip, unable to stop the slight giggle when Uraume moved up to your ribcage. They stopped for a second, believing they had hurt you until you gave a slight smile. They huffed and continued on, making sure no part of your body was left untouched.

With the moonlight shining down on you, you glanced down at Uraume’s shadow. You reached out and gently poked the shadow’s cheek. Uraume stopped, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You couldn’t help but grin. You grabbed the shadow’s hair, twirling a strand. A strand of Uraume’s hair began to twirl as if a finger was doing it. But there was nothing holding it up.

“You can manipulate shadows?”

“Mhn…justtouch.” You slurred. “Can’t…domuch…wasn’t…taught.”

You stepped away, shyly smiling as you slowly disappeared into your own shadow. Uraume hummed, nodding themselves as they watched you come back up.

“Can’t…hidefor…long. Noise…canbe…heard.”

“Do you have no offense attack?”

You shook your head. “Touch…couldbe…offensive…buti…can’t… can’t handle…weapons..too…weak.”

“I don’t believe that. Every curse can be offensive. You simply wasn’t trained properly.” Uraume walked over, grabbing the basin filled with water. They brought over your head and dumped it, ignoring your slight shriek at the cold water.

“It won’t matter now. Sukuna more than likely won’t let you live longer than a day. It’s a shame.” They draped a small towel over your body. “Use this to dry off. I’ll retrieve your clothing.”

As you dried off, you thought about what they said.

Was that true?

Could you use your technique for offense?

It made sense. You were never taught to try as you had quickly mastered hiding first. And then the whole problem of your stunts of being a male, it’s no wonder you stuck to defense.

It was the only way you could protect yourself from such hatred.

It didn’t matter now though. You were going to die in a day, anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It’s been months.

It’s been months and you were still alive.

It was shocking. After the first day, you were so sure you were going to die. But Sukuna didn’t even pay attention to you. He walked right past you. He hardly talks to you at all.

You stuck to cleaning his shrine, most of the time.

Even Uraume seemed surprised you even made it to a week. But soon, they started to treat you… decently? They showed you how to cook certain meals and if they were up to it, taught you ways to use your curse technique in an offensive manner.

“Speak slowly.” Uraume said, sitting across from you in the small room. You and Uraume lived in a small minka, just a few feet away from Sukuna’s shrine. He seemed to have two shrines, one in his domain and the other here.

You sighed, nodding your head. Uraume would sometimes hold speaking lessons. They had gotten tired of having to listen to your almost incoherent way of speech.

“I…wield…theknife—”

“—The. Knife.”

“The…Knife…”

“Continue.”

“The…Knife…to…cut…meat.”

“Good enough. Go bathe.”

You nod, grabbing your Wakizashi and walking outside. Since the minka was small, the shower area was just outside the home. Your robes pooled around your feet as you filled in the basin, yawning to yourself.

“You’re still here?”

A chill rushes up your spine as you look back, gasping in shock. It was Sukuna. He stood only a few feet away from you, his eyes trailing down your nude body. You blush, using your hands to cover your crotch and chest from his gaze.

“whatdo…you..mean..? Why…wouldi..leave?”

Sukuna smirked. “You have no sense of free will. You had multiple attempts to run away. Uraume can’t sense you when you use your technique. Yet you’re still here.” He walks over to you, kneeling down to your level. You gulp, wondering if this is the moment of your demise.

His hand reaches out, coming into close contact with your face.

Your eyes clamp shut, leaning away.

But he doesn’t hurt you.

You feel a hand squeeze your right breast. You open one eye and look down. Sukuna’s hand squeezes your breast as he hummed in satisfaction.

“It’s soft.” He said.

“Mngh?!” You shriek, unable to really move in fear he’d tear you in two.

Two of his hands grasp both of your legs, spreading them open as you cry out. You were practically manhandled, spread open for his eyes to see. Your hands flung to his chest, embarrassment filling your chest as you tried to calm down your heavy breathing.

“If you wish to keep living, become useful to me.”

“Useful…?”

“I already have a cook. I need pleasure in other ways.”

A feather like touch teased your cunt. You gasped, looking down to see his one free hand slightly teasing your cunt. You’ve never touched yourself down there. It felt odd. You didn’t understand how this could give him any sort of pleasure.

Sukuna seemed to notice your confusion as he chuckled lightly, manhandling you to rest on your back, legs still held up high.

“I will simply train you to handle me.” Two fingers sinked into your tight heat. You felt your body thrash against his hold, believing he was somehow killing you. It felt strange. So strange to have something inside you.

Was this apart of his technique?

Would you explode if he curled his finger?!

Sukuna chuckled, enjoying your fearful expression. “Relax. Pleasure will soon consume you.” The fingers began to slowly move in and out, rubbing against your wet walls. You gasped, toes slightly curled as something weird began to burrow in your belly.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, causing you to cry out. That seemed to be your weakness. For the next few minutes, he slowly teased your cunt open, occasionally rubbing your clit. Your body stopped thrashing but you couldn’t help but arch your back, biting your lip as screams threatened to live your throat.

“eeeeh…pee..pee..!” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes. Sukuna’s fingers didn’t stop, instead they continued. Even as you continued to cry that you were about to piss, Sukuna only laughed.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his fingers as you felt your body spasm. A moan left your throat as something washed over you. You felt…good?

What was this? Why did you feel so sleepy?

With what little strength you had left, you grabbed your Wakizashi and held it against his chest, glaring up at him. Sukuna released your legs and grabbed your hand, simply having to squeeze it to have you release the Wakizashi.

You felt too sluggish to actually put up a fight.

“You orgasm but still have the energy to use a weapon.” He laughed to himself. “You truly are interesting.”

He stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor, legs spread open.

Just…. What the fuck was that?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Orgasm.

It was an orgasm.

And Sukuna had been giving it to you constantly.

He appeared more frequently at the minka. He grabbed you whenever he pleased, even if Uraume was in the area. Spreading your thighs as he fingered your heat. He would sometimes squeeze your breasts, always commenting that it was his favorite body part of yours.

You were even forbidden from wearing underwear.

Easy access, apparently.

Uraume didn’t seem to comment or care about this new development. They simply helped you bathe whenever you were too tired. You still had your occasional lesson on speech and offense but you weren’t making much progress.

But somehow, the crazy murder, Uraume was encouraging. Believing it was just difficult for you to let go of old habits, especially in speech. You still couldn’t believe that they were a ruthless killer by how nicely they treated you.

It had been close to a year now.

You still thought about your clan. The massacre that happened right in front of you. But you couldn’t mourn them. Not after how they treated you. Such cruelty.

Sukuna and Uraume treated you like a male.

How could monsters treat you so well but not your own family?

There were days Uraume and Sukuna were gone. Those days you knew they were killing some other clan. Killing any sorcerers that dared stumble onto their path. But you never ran away.

Despite the amount of times you could.

You just never did.

Your fingers traced against Sukuna’s shrine, making sure there was no dust collecting on it. This was one of the rare occasions you were in his domain. But there were other sorcerers here—they were on their knees, pleading for their life.

You didn’t look at them at all, not wanting to be reminded of their humanity. To be reminded that Sukuna was a ruthless killer. That you were lucky you could stand near him and not fear death.

“(Name).”

You glanced up, looking over to see Sukuna motion for you to come over. Your bare feet pattered against the dark water as you went over to him, standing up straight as you waited for whatever he could want.

“Sit.”

When you moved to kneel, Sukuna grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You cried out, feeling your body freeze at the sudden closeness. You’ve never been so close to him. Being able to feel his breathing. The slow swell of his chest.

He began speaking to the sorcerers again but you didn’t pay attention. Hypnotized by this new position. Your hand slowly rested against his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder. You looked so small against him.

You couldn’t help but sniff the air, wondering if he had a scent.

He didn’t.

You stayed on his lap for a moment, wondering if he had just wanted you to cuddle him but you felt something twitching against your crotch. It was thick. Being strained by his robes. You wondered if it was just his knee but it kept twitching.

It was strange. It pressed against your cunt, earning a whimper from you. You had gotten so sensitive down there, easily orgasming when Sukuna touched you.

There was a tug at your robes as it was pulled down, causing you to gasp. Your breasts plopped out but you quickly covered them. It was luck that you had your back facing the sorcerers. Though they seemed to have stopped talking—only their soft whimpering and cries heard.

Sukuna didn’t say a word as he pulled open his own robe, two cocks springing free. You stared at it in shock. You’d never seen anything like it. It’d been years since you saw male genitalia. Did all males have two? That seemed a bit much.

You were glad you didn’t have any. It looked to be a pain to have to walk with something so huge between your legs. They pressed against your pussy—teasing your entrance. You backed away a little, only to have Sukuna grip your waist with his two lower hands.

“I trained you for this.” He simply said before turning his attention back to the pitiful sorcerers.

Training?

That training was for this?

Is that even safe?

You felt nervous. That… thing was supposed to go inside you? It wouldn’t kill you? You slowly sat up, hesitantly hovering over his cocks. The thought of putting two in so quickly, you didn’t think you could handle it. So you settled for one at a time.

The bottom cock slowly nestled inside your cunt as you eased it inside. It wasn’t painful but you didn’t like the feeling. It was odd, different than Sukuna’s fingers. His hands squeezed your waist once you finally bottomed out.

You glanced up, seeing his eyebrow raised. It was easy to tell that he was amused you could only fit one. You pouted, burying your face in his chest. He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t even know cocks could go inside a person! How could you fit two in the first try.

His second cock rested against your tummy. It looked a bit dejected. You kinda felt bad.

Sukuna and the sorcerers continued their conversation. You couldn’t pay it much attention. Your pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Your fingers clutched at his robe as you took deep breaths, beginning to feel weird with the thick cock spreading you full.

The sound of someone screaming caught your attention, but when you made the effort to turn around, Sukuna kept you still. He pushed you to rest against his chest, face smushed against his shoulder.

Someone was killed.

It was silent for a few more minutes before the remaining sorcerers began to speak about festivals they would hold in Sukuna’s honor. Sukuna’s cock twitched inside you. Huh, he must find that arousing.

Your eyes fluttered, sleep almost taking you over until Sukuna’s hands tightened around your waist. You felt your body be lift up until he slammed you back down. Your back arched as you screamed out.

The pain of the sudden movement somehow made you feel good. He bounced you on his cock as if you were nothing but a plaything. His grunts filling the domain. You were so happy he couldn’t see the sorcerers eyes on you, watching as you were used by the King of Curses for his own personal pleasure.

The thought of anyone in your clan knowing too brought fear inside your heart.

Any sort of pleasure you were feeling left. Your eyes fluttered closed as you just allowed Sukuna to take whatever he pleased. The reality of your situation had hit. You were nothing.

A toy for Sukuna.

Pitiful.

You were fucking pitiful.

Something warm erupted inside your heat, coating your walls. You let out a shuddered gasp, unable to ignore the small amount of pleasure that brought you. There was something white coating your tummy from his second cock.

Was this sperm?

It didn’t matter.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

You proved your father right.

You were only good for one thing.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Wakizashi.

The Wakizashi was smaller than a katana, bigger than a dagger. A weapon civilians could carry around safely.

A weapon many used in suicide.

It was midnight. The moon shining down at you. You stood deep in the forest, bare feet touching the soft grass. You always loved the beauty of nature. The one thing that couldn’t be tainted.

You wore the female kimono you were forced to wear in the Toh. Despite the trauma, you still held the kimono close to you. It was made by your mother.

Your Wakizashi was held tightly in your hand. Its sharp blade glistening in the pale moonlight. You slowly widen your stance, arms gently moving into position as you whispered those faithful words.

“Domain Expansion: Midnight Paradise.”

The paradise soon engulfed you. The familiar spider lilies blooming around you. Sakura petals fluttering from the makeshift sky. It was peaceful.

The ground, however, was dark water.

You’d never done that before. Sukuna must’ve rubbed off on you. A bitter laugh left you. You really allowed a curse to take you—allowing it to plant itself into your heart.

The Wakizashi felt heavy in your grip. Even as you placed the blade against your neck, your hand shook. It rattled in your hand as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t even know why you were hesitating. Sukuna didn’t like you.

He used you for pleasure—he said it himself.

You were simply doing him a favor.

Your grip tightened as you sighed. It would be okay. This is what you always wanted.

Maybe, you’ll be born to a happy family.

The blade cut clean through your throat, blood oozing out. You dropped the Wakizashi as you collapsed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you accepted your death.

Only for you to realize you weren’t bleeding anymore.

You reached up and touched your throat, feeling a scaring instead of the open wound. It… healed?!

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

“You humans are amusing.” The calming paradise bursts—Sukuna’s shrine appearing in front of you. The spider lilies stayed, curling around you as if it was comforting you. “You seem to have forgotten you belong to me.”

Sukuna appeared on the throne, staring you down with a glare. “I choose when you die. I will grant you the freedom of death. Now, come here.”

You slowly sat up, staring at him in shock. You had so many questions. How? Why? What did he do to make you live?

“Come here. Now.” He said, his tone stern. You stood up on shaky legs, slowly walking over to him. His body seemed larger than before. His eyes narrowing at every movement you took.

Sukuna grabbed your kimono as soon as you were close enough and tore it open. It ripped to shreds, falling to your feet in minutes. You held back your tears, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“(Name), you will look me in the eye when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, feeling your body hiccup as your tears began to flow. Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes roaming your nude body. He stood up and gripped your face, moving your face upwards.

You expected anger. His cruelty to show for your actions. But his thumb gently traced the scaring across your face. It was from the whipping back then. It was jaggeder, covering your left eye to your right cheek. It was pure luck that you could even see from that eye.

“This body,” his hands trail down to your throat, tracing your new scar across your throat, “isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. If you wish to die so badly it’ll be my hands.”

His grip tightened, causing you to gasp, your hands clutching at his arm. He stared you down, eyes showing no sign of any heart. But he didn’t strangle you. He moved down, grasping your right breast.

“Humans are insignificant. You should be grateful that I keep you alive. Your only purpose is to please me.” He pushed you into the ground as you gasped out, staring up at him as he kneeled down, tearing off his own robes.

You parted your legs, not even attempting to fight back. But you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted him.

Sukuna smirked. “Some man you are. Whoring yourself so easily.”

“itsokay…becauseits…Sukuna…” You whispered, giving him a soft smile through your tears. Sukuna froze for a moment, staring down at you as he grunted in anger. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close, rubbing his cocks against your pussy.

“You know your place now?”

“Mmmmh. Sukuna’s…”

Sukuna chuckled, his lips slightly tugging into a smile. It was odd. You felt safe in his presence. The dark thoughts swirling in your brain felt like nonsense when you were near him. But you didn’t know why.

It felt counterintuitive to feel safe in the arms of a man that committed a massacre.

His degradation felt like care. He used a technique to save you.

He must care about you.

Even if the way he showed it was cruel.

Perhaps you weren’t mentally sane.

More than likely.

You reached over, grasping two of Sukuna’s hands and bringing it to your breasts. He easily squeezed them both, pulling at your nipples. A shuddered breath left your lips as you whimpered.

“You must be punished—for damaging my possession.” You feel his cocks teasing your pussy. There was no getting out of it. You’ll be taking both at the same time.

Slowly, inch by inch, his two cocks sinked into your pussy. It was painful—nothing you could have ever imagine. Your breathing shuddered, hands gripping at his shoulder for some form of relief.

How could anyone like this?

Two of his hands gripped your breasts while the other two held your waist down, keeping you still. You wanted to thrash around, pull away due to the pain but he was too strong. But even though it was so painful, your cunt clenched around his cocks.

Your hands moved downwards, tracing his abs as you giggled to yourself. Being so close to him, you could finally take a good look at him.

The black markings all over his body. The second face. His four large arms.

He looked better in the moonlight.

Your hand moved away from his chest, reaching over to grab your Wakizashi. With a swiftness, one of Sukuna’s hands grabbed your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Wakizashi.”

You managed to pull your wrist away and grab the Wakizashi. You used your other hand to grab one of his and place it over the other gripping the Wakizashi. Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, his eyebrows raising as he watched you with curiosity.

“Myheart…and….Wakizashi…belongto…Sukuna…Ryomen.”

A childish grin spread on your lips as you leaned up and gently kissed Sukuna’s hand that gripped yours. You looked up, unsure if Sukuna understood you. He seemed to have trouble understanding your form of speech.

But the look he gave you was scary. It was as if he was angry but also… lustful?

He released his grip on your hand and reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen, your hand releasing the Wakizashi. It clattered onto the floor before being pushed away by Sukuna.

You didn’t know curses could kiss.

You never thought a curse would be your first kiss.

But you eagerly kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He manhandled you to lay back down your back as two hands lifted your legs. You almost forgot all about his cocks inside of you.

His hips moved back before slamming forward, causing your body to jostle from the force. You screamed out, nails beginning to claw at his back as he took you.

The sounds of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain. Sukuna’s cocks stretched you full, reaching so deep inside you worried he’d spilt you open. You glanced down, seeing the soft tell sign of something bulging against your stomach.

From the inside…

Was that his cock?

Curses were insane.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, your cunt clamping tightly around his cocks. But he didn’t let up, using you like a sex toy. Though it didn’t bother you this time—you liked it.

Sukuna’s hips slammed into you as the warm sperm began to coat your inner walls. That was fast.

You glanced up at Sukuna to see him looking away, as if he was also shocked he came that fast. A cocky grin appeared on your lips as you giggled, pressing kisses on Sukuna’s cheek.

“Wasi…thatgood?” You asked, looking up at him with eyes that resembled a puppy. Sukuna didn’t answer, simply pulling away from you despite your whines.

“I’m hungry. Go tell Uraume to cook me a meal.” Sukuna bluntly said, standing up as he slipped back into his robes. You simply wrapped an arm around your chest and clamped your legs closed for decency.

You reached over to grab your Wakizashi when it was quickly taken from you. Your eyes nervously turned over to Sukuna, watching as he lazily flipped the weapon before hiding it in his robe.

“Uhm….my…”

He smirked, “did you not say that it belongs to me now?”

You frowned. Well now you regretted that.

“You’ll earn it once you learn your place. Now go.” His eyes trailed down to the new scar on your throat. You could never tell what Sukuna was feeling but you could’ve sworn he seemed… upset at the sight. But his face quickly became neutral as he walked back to his shrine, sitting down and getting comfortable.

Your fingers gently traced the scaring on your throat. You’ve never seen the technique Sukuna used. It wasn’t something anyone taught you. But it must’ve been a strong one.

And he used it to save you.

Was that….

Love? ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t gotten your Wakizashi back.

Sukuna would occasionally taunt you with it, threatening to snap it in half. But he never did. He seemed to enjoy your panicked responses.

He kept it close though. It was always tucked inside his robe. You wondered if he ever used it when he went on his sorcerer killing sprees. Not that he’d ever need to. He could kill towns in minutes.

But it felt nice to have him hold it.

Your speech was still terrible. Uraume was the only person who could understand you, especially when you spoke longer sentences.

“Andi…sawthe…bunnyrush…awaytothe…burrow..! Butigrabbed…thecarrots…itstole!”

“You should’ve killed the bunny.” Uraume responded, handing you a bowl of miso soup. They gave Sukuna a plate that looked to be human meat. You had gotten used to ignoring the smell.

Sukuna stared at you from across the table. “The bunny ran where?”

“Theburrow.”

“Uraume, I thought you were teaching him to speak clearly,” Sukuna said. Uraume shrugged as they sat down beside you.

“Teaching takes time. (Name) is twenty two, it’s harder to change habits by this age.”

It practically became a habit for you to constantly repeat yourself when speaking to Sukuna. Other times he’d tell you to stop speaking. He was still rude and a bit cruel.

But he certainly changed. Judging by the fact he’d occasionally kiss you. Though it wasn’t soft and romantic kisses. Most kisses would leave you breathless with bruised lips.

He still took you whenever he pleased. Having you ride him in front of people. That was still embarrassing. But you learned to live with it.

You were sitting outside, the moon shining down at you as you slowly weaved a bracelet with flower stems. There were three others scattered beside you, dawned with small chrysanthemums decorating them.

The thin robe you wore hardly covered you properly causing you to shiver at a particular rush of cool breeze. You grinned, holding the finished bracelet in triumph. They were larger than your wrists, having been made as large as possible.

As you grabbed the other three, two hands grasped your breasts, harshly squeezing them. You gasped, almost dropping the bracelets as you looked back to see Sukuna. He used his other two hands to lift you up, just as his domain opened around you both.

He sat at his shrine, settling you onto his lap. His hands pulled your robe off as you clutched the bracelets tightly, making sure to not accidentally drop them.

One of his hands trailed between your legs, easily teasing your pussy. You shivered, resting your head on his chest as he slowly teased you open. His large fingers slipped inside your cunt, stretching you out.

“Sukuna…” You mewled. “Gotyoupresent…”

You felt the loud reverberation of his grunt through his chest. It was somehow comforting that he had such human bodily autonomy. Your hands slowly opened, holding them up for him to see. Four brackets with red and white chrysanthemums in the center of the flower stems.

Sukuna grabbed one of them, examining it as his finger continued to stretch you open. He chuckled slightly, placing it back into your palms.

“I don’t need gifts from you.” He said, earning a frown from you. Your lips parted as you tried to argue back only for him to lean down and nip at your lips, kissing you with as much softness as he could possibly muster.

“I already own you.”

Your breathing hitched, staring up at him in shock. You eagerly kissed him back—moaning as he began to feverishly finger you open.

“Takeme…please.” You whispered, placing the brackets onto the ground as you moved to properly straddle him. Your hand pulled his robe open, allowing his cock to freely press against your thigh.

You shyly grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Useme…Sukuna Ryomen.”

Sukuna smirked, two of his hands instantly gripping your hips. “You don’t get to complain later.” He said before slamming you down onto his cock. You screamed out, the painful stretch bringing you a pleasure that you had learned to love.

He bounced you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. Your sweet, high pitched cries being music to his ears. The sight of you was intoxicating. Your breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts—your cunt clenching around his cocks like a vice.

And to think… he was going to kill you that day.

He would’ve missed out on such great pussy.

Whatever he felt for you, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he loved fucking you.

His hand reached down, kneading your ass. He leaned over and began to suckle on one of your nipples, earning a whine from you. You would always end up cumming more than twice, the least.

His name left your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulder as you wailed out.

You reached your first orgasm in minutes. He could always tell whenever you did. Your nose would scrunch up, lips curling into a frown, as your body began to stiffen. Your cunt would always tighten as well, practically begging him to fuck his cum into you.

The effect you had on him was different. He could last longer with random woman he found but with you… He always found himself releasing faster.

He bit down on your nipple, causing you to shriek at the pain. Despite the cries and whimpers you gave whenever he would intentionally hurt you. Twist a nipple too hard. Spank your ass a bit too red. You would always come back for more.

Fuck… just what have you done to him?

He pulled away from your breasts and pulled you closer, claiming your lips with anger. You helplessly kissed back—unable to really take any sort of control in the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, hiccuping as you nuzzled your face into his neck. He continued to bounce you on his cocks, getting you closer to your second orgasm.

It was unreal. To be so connected to a curse. The King of Curses no less.

You felt the quick swelling of his cocks, indicating he was about to cum. Your cunt tightened as much as it could, earning an animalistic grunt. He began to use you with no regard whatsoever to the bruising his grip left on your body.

He slammed into you just as his cocks began to cum deep inside you. You pulled him close to give him a kiss, reaching your own orgasm.

You didn’t know if what you felt for Sukuna was love. But you certainly didn’t want to live without him.

It’s a shame this would be the last day you saw him.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It was interesting to see Japan grow so much.

You didn't know that you would’ve been alive for so long. To not age at all. It was a blessing and a curse. You certainly stopped getting to know people, tired of seeing them grow old in age or even die by unfortunate events.

You would occasionally see how the sorcerers were doing. But you never got close—knowing you were technically a betrayer. Uraume was still with you though they would occasionally disappear to meet a man named Kenjaku.

Other curses still disgusted you so you never made any effort to speak to them like Uraume did. They kept speaking as if they could bring back Sukuna but you didn’t really believe it.

No, it was more so you didn’t think it would be a great idea. You’d lived longer than you’d been with Sukuna at this point. And while you still love him, you knew deep down humans were doomed if he were to come back.

The soft breeze gently flew past as you sat in the woods. Moonlight shining down on you as you moved to lay down.

Something felt off, but you had pushed the feeling away. Being able to live for so long should’ve been a blessing though you would occasionally wish to die.

But you never got your Wakizashi back. You assumed Sukuna died with it.

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.

People were nice. Many calling you a man. It was like a dream come true.

It was like two sides fought inside of you.

The need to protect human lives.

The want to kiss and hug Sukuna.

Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone normal?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You shouldn’t come to Shibuya tonight.”

The soft hums of the television almost entirely drowned out Uraume’s voice. You looked over at them, watching as they grabbed something from the closet. Shibuya?

“I haven’t been to Shibuya in a while.” You said, glancing back at the tv. Your style of speech was more coherent after centuries of practice. Though you would sometimes revert back when emotional.

“Why? Is something going to happen in Shibuya?”

Uraume simply hummed. “Could your body handle Sukuna today?”

You got up from the couch and walked over to Uraume. “Hm? Handle him?” Your hands rested against the countertop of the kitchen as you thought for a moment. “No. I haven’t had sex in centuries. I’m a virgin again.”

You giggled at your own joke while Uraume rolled their eyes.

They turned over to you, their eyes trailing over your body. “Your chest is bigger.”

You glanced down at your chest before glaring at them. “I just gained weight.”

“That’s a good thing.” They patted you on the back. “Bigger is better. I’ll be back.”

You mutely waved as Uraume left, humming to yourself. Bigger is better? You were pretty sure you had seen porn ads with that as a slogan. But there was a weird feeling your tummy. Why did Uraume suddenly ask you about Sukuna?

It been forever. Did they….

No. You pushed the thought away. You’d become a stuttering mess if Sukuna appeared in front of you.

But you were sure you’d kill him.

Just for leaving you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re okay keeping your face like that?”

“For now. If I’m going to be fighting amongst sorcerers, it’s better to maintain this kind of appearance.”

…..

“Where is he?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Uraume hasn’t been back for a while now. You didn’t get too worried, they had a habit of doing so. It mainly worried you that things seemed off. A massacre happened in Shibuya.

It felt too similar to his work.

You shrugged it off, knowing just how difficult to was to reincarnate Sukuna.

But what if…

You groaned in frustration. You needed to go visit the forest. Your favorite forest was all over the place. You would always change it whenever you felt tired of another. This forest was beautiful with a large crystal blue lake.

Small baby ducks floated about while its mother watched. You sat down right next to the lake, putting your feet in it for some cool water against your skin.

The pale moonlight shunned down on you, always being a comforting blanket. It would always calm you down. Your legs slowly treaded through the water, sending small waves to the ducks.

A giggle escaped your lips as you watched the baby ducks scatter at the sudden movement.

You leaned over and stared at your reflection, gently poking it with your index finger. Soft ripples carried across the lake.

Your mind began to blank as you yawned. The ease of distractions began to push away any worry you had before. Until you felt… something was off.

The forest was silent. No more soft rustle of the wind. Crickets. Birds. Even the ducks on the water were long gone. Something was wrong.

You slipped out of the water, glancing around. You slowly stood up and tried to ignore your own wishes for your Wakizashi. You’d get through without it.

But nothing happened. It was still—nothing came out and attacked you. You shook your head, scratching at your scalp as you turned back to face the lake.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Those words.

That voice.

The familiar black water pooled your bare feet. The same shrine covered in human skulls. The memories of cleaning it. Sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he taunted helpless sorcerers.

Spider lilies began to bloom around you, forming a circle. The moon was still shining down on you. You didn’t want to turn around. In fear of just how you’d react to seeing him.

Would he look the same? Did he still like you?

Did he ever like you?

You felt young again. The young and naive (Name) rushing back in. Who couldn’t speak properly. Who couldn’t fight to save his life.

Two hands suddenly appeared from behind you and spun you around.

He was still taller than you. His markings still all over his body. But his hair was black this time. He didn’t have two arms either. You almost didn’t believe it was him until a smirk spread on his lips.

Yeah… that’s your Sukuna.

Your body felt stiff as you slowly stepped forward before leaping into his arms. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you began to wail. Your hands gripped at his body—making sure this wasn’t a dream.

He was real. He was real.

“You’ve missed me, huh?” He teased, his hand trailing downwards to grip your hips. His thumbs sinked into your skin as if he was now checking if you were real too.

“Mhm….missedsukuna…solonely…” You whined, cursing when you noticed you couldn’t speak properly anymore. Now that was just embarrassing.

You continued hugging him, leaning in as close as humanly possible. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck.

You really did betray your clan, cuddling with the murderer.

A sudden squeeze at your breasts caught your attention. You pulled away a bit to see Sukuna squeezing both of your breasts together. He smirked, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples through the shirt.

“They’re bigger.”

You glared at him. “Stopit. Youcanttouch…meuntil…iget…Wakizashi!” Sukuna rolled his eyes but complied, pulling away as he reached into his robes. Slowly, he pulled out your Wakizashi. Its gold sheath somehow still shining proudly.

Your hands practically snatched it away from him as you held it in the air, letting the moonlight shine down on it.

As beautiful as you remembered.

It looked recently cleaned. You glanced back at Sukuna, biting your lip. He kept it safe. He kept your Wakizashi safe.

Which meant…

He kept your heart safe.

“Do I get a reward for keeping that pathetic excuse of a weapon safe?” Sukuna asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite his words, you knew he took its protection seriously.

You mutely nodded. “Didn’t….sleepwith…anyone. Not since…youwere…gone.” You slowly placed the weapon on the floor as you stepped over to Sukuna.

“Kept myself just for you.” You managed to say before looking down in embarrassment. “Istill…belong…to…sukunaryomen.”

A grip on your chin caused you to flinch as he forced you to look up at him. Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes roaming your face. The same whip scaring on your face almost gone in its entirety. The scar on your neck completely faded.

“I see I have to remind you of the rules.” He said, forcefully tutting your head around as he continued to look at you. “Let’s sey that cunt of yours can handle me.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You missed this. His fingers thrusting into your pussy as he stretched you. Roughly kneading your breast with his free hand. It was weird being only touched by two hands—you couldn’t wait until he got his normal body.

Your back arched, soft mewls leaving your lips. You were fully nude, sat atop of Sukuna’s lap as he sat on his throne. Your cunt was tight. You really haven’t touched yourself ever since Sukuna left.

“Were you waiting for me?” Sukuna suddenly asked, his thumb teasing your clit as you whimpered. “Waiting to be used as my whore again?”

“Nghhh…”

“I was waiting to fuck this pussy again.” He slowly spread your pussy open. “Squeezing your tits. All I had was that fucking Wakizashi of yours.” He muttered bitterly, slamming his fingers deep into your cunt. You cried out, your hips moving upward as you tried to catch your breath.

He didn’t care that it had been centuries since you had sex. He seemed to enjoy that you were so loyal to him that you practiced celibacy.

“You’re lucky I need to feel your pussy around my cock—you deserve a punishment for not fulfilling your duties.” He pulled open his robe, his cock springing out. Your shuddered, feeling it rub against your pussy.

“What…duties…?” You whispered.

Sukuna harshly squeezed your breast, pulling at the nipple. You cried out in pain—your body squirming in his grip as his cock began teasing your pussy.

“You must’ve forgotten your place.” He whispered into your ear. “No matter, I’ll remind you of it.”

His cock slammed into your pussy, ignoring your scream of pain. He was harsh and unforgiving. Your body spasmed as it tried to get used to the harsh thrusting. It’d been so long, you already felt yourself feel close to an orgasm.

Sukuna’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling them upward as he thrusted into your tight cunt. The sound of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the slight smile on your lips. You missed being used like a toy for his pleasure. A groan left you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Even as you orgasmed, Sukuna didn’t let you, using you to reach his own.

You felt his cock suddenly pulsate in you as warm cum filled your insides. A shuddered moan left your lips. You almost forgot just how warm sperm could be.

But you began to feel yourself being moved up and down. His hands moved to grip your waist, easily bouncing you on his cock. The overstimulation instantly caused you discomfort but your whines fell on deaf ears.

“I’ve been without your cunt for centuries.” He said, grunting as you clenched around his cock. Your hands gripped at his thighs. You couldn’t hold back your moans, they were on the verge of screams. It was so much for what was essentially your first time.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, smashing his lips into yours. You eagerly kissed back. The kiss reminded you of all the past ones. The bites on your lips. The feeling as if he was stealing your breath away.

As you pulled away, he gave you a lustful smirk.

“I intend to make up for lost time.”

You weren’t going to be able to walk for years.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

wowowo….my first fic at 10k words…. Jesus! I hope I did Sukuna justice <3

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @flurrina @mello-life69 @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @kiiyoooo @ac3ifix

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Can you do a gardner reader/gp Donna where the gardner was quietly given the cadou, but no one but Mother Miranda knows? Gardner is soft spoken and Donna and reader slowly fall in love...maybe some angst from Donna being scared to lose the gardner but finding out they have forever? If you could have smut (maybe the gardner has a breeding kink), too?

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

Forever

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, gardener! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, (Minors DNI), breeding kink, angst, fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,432

Summary: Your life was getting weird...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!!

Living in that village was already synonymous with mystery and disorientation, but it was nothing compared to waking up every morning in a different place. Of course, it wasn't always like that.

You were a normal girl, with a sad and boring life, like everyone who lived in that place. You had a home, a family, the certainty that Mother Miranda and the Black Gods protected you… You couldn't really complain, but deep down you wanted to.

You weren't hungry, nor cold. You weren't even called by the lady of the castle to serve her as a maid, something quite common for young girls like you. You thought that maybe you wouldn't suffer the same fate as your friends, that life had something better in store for you.

Deep down, you weren't wrong.

But when you thought you would dedicate yourself to taking care of a small garden, that you would no longer have any worries other than worshipping the Gods and protecting the crops from frost, something happened.

Even if you tried to look back and retrace each of the steps you took that day, all you could see was the darkness. The first thing your memory recalled when you woke up were those gray eyes, that blonde hair, that woman, Mother Miranda.

According to the priestess, you had an accident, and, of course, the Black Gods had protected you. Although you didn’t doubt her word, although you didn’t distrust the person who protected the village, there was something that didn’t fit in that story.

You weren’t the most faithful villager, and that is why you decided not to question that “divine intervention” and to just thank the bird-woman.

Apparently, your innate ability with plants piqued the blonde lady's curiosity, and after vaguely explaining how she had saved your life, she offered you a job. Distrustful, you listened patiently to what your new role would be, one that you knew you couldn’t escape.

Mother Miranda said that it would be a complete shame if your talent was wasted on simple vegetables, that you deserved something more than that. For that reason, and with you unable to hold her gaze, she indicated that you were destined to serve one of the Lords.

It was something that was always within your possible futures, but perhaps in a different way. You wouldn’t be a maid, or an experiment, you would be a gardener. But not just any gardener; you would be, from that day on, the gardener of House Beneviento.

Naturally, you knew the inhabitant of those grounds, the youngest and most mysterious Lord: the solitary ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.

She was no different from her siblings. The rumors about the lady in black weren’t foreign to your ears. No one knew her well, but everyone feared her. She was a strange, sick and dangerous woman.

The power to revive your deepest fears, to manipulate your mind like the strings of a puppet kept that mansion as a place of no return, as the last thing anyone stupid enough to enter there would see.

You were terrified of working for her, taking care of the plants that made her power terrifying, but… how could you refuse a request from Mother Miranda?

You soon moved to the house of the one who took your place years ago, the mysterious family gardener, who suddenly disappeared. The uncertainty killed you every day you spent there, but it didn't take long for you to get used to it.

Your new mistress didn't usually come near. Yes, sometimes her black figure walked around the grounds as if she were a ghost, next to the Angie doll. She didn't look at you; you doubted if the lady was even aware of your existence.

It wasn't long before you started to be curious, to wonder what kind of woman was hiding under that black veil.

Little by little that gloomy walk came closer, and the lady in black recognized your work, something strange; you doubted she knew you existed. But contrary to what you might think, the woman did know Mother Miranda's command, that you were her new gardener.

A couple of whispers with a hoarse and melodic voice, slight nods and hidden glances… they were the symptoms that indicated that Donna Beneviento was watching you.

The monster the villagers spoke of faded away with each encounter, and curiosity slowly began to replace fear. Yes, she seemed like a strange, sick woman, and her Angie doll scolded you for being a nuisance, but for some reason, you began to want to see her walking near you, a compliment from the lips you couldn't see, a word with that attractive accent.

Perhaps the desire to get closer to that woman increased due to the loneliness of the place, the feeling of isolation you experienced in that cabin. The days passed slowly without her heels sinking into the snow, without her black presence contrasting with the pure white of the landscape.

Surely you were delirious, or maybe was the lack of sleep that made you imagine longer conversations, maybe having tea with her, making her laugh, making the anguish you saw in her way of moving, of acting, disappear. You were attracted to Donna, and you couldn't deny it, but unfortunately, you weren't the most outgoing girl in the village, and new worries clouded those absurd fantasies.

The days were quiet, the nights were restless, black, a blinding darkness permeated your dreams and the warmth of the fireplace began to disappear. When you woke up, when you opened your eyes, the surroundings were different every day. You could be in the snow, leaning on a railing, on the bridge, near the house...

You had never been a sleepwalker, or so you thought, but waking up every day in a different place, feeling black smoke clouding any memory of the night, made you believe that perhaps your nights were much more interesting than they seemed.

For that reason, you started a diary a long time ago in which you noted the place where you woke up and how you felt. You needed an answer, you needed to find a pattern to that strange behavior, but you never got what you were looking for, just more uncertainty and a irrational fear of falling asleep.

Luckily, that day you woke up in your bed, a rarity that you thought you would take advantage of, perhaps to try to focus on the lady in black, on your discovery of that mysterious woman you worked for.

“It seems that the cold hasn’t caused much damage...” you murmured while pruning some bushes, checking the color, the condition of the plants. “Good, good...”

Your eyes danced unintentionally towards the paths, towards the place where the lady used to appear and a strange smile formed on your face, imagining her slow walking, the lavender perfume she left behind as she passed by you.

“Uh-oh, I think you're going crazy, (Y/N),” you said to yourself, shaking your head and turning your back on the path, taking the lady out of your thoughts.

As if something, or someone, had read your silent request, footsteps in the snow made you freeze and turn your head slowly, unable to stop smiling. Indeed, your silent prayers had been heard, and the dark figure of Donna Beneviento appeared on the path, approaching with her doll.

“Oh, my lady,” you whispered, not being able (you had never been) to raise the volume of your voice.

Despite that, the lady seemed to hear you and turned her head towards you, stopping dead in her tracks.

“Good morning, silly gardener!” the shrill voice of the Angie doll penetrated your ears, making you put on an unpleasant face, but without losing your elegant smile.

“Miss Angie,” you said elegantly, with a submissive whisper. “My lady…”

“What are you doing, silly?” the puppet asked, while its owner put it on the ground, nodding discreetly at your greeting. “You're hurting the plants, huh?”

“No,” you said amused, with an evident blush on your cheeks. “Of course I’m not, Miss Angie, I'm pruning this bush.”

“Sure, sure,” the doll answered while your gaze shifted to the lady in black, who stood with her hands placed elegantly in front of her body. “Hey, hey, the other day I saw in a book that gardeners like you know how to shape these bushes.”

“Really?” you asked shyly, looking down when something told you that the lady was looking at you, even if you couldn't see it. “Well, I don't think I could shape this one, it's too small.”

“Nonsense, it's perfect, just look at me,” Angie said, pointing at herself and eclipsing your daily observation of the lady. “I'm not very big either. Listen, silly, I want you to shape that bush, like me.”

“Don't pay attention to her,” Lady Beneviento's hoarse voice interrupted that strange request as her veil danced while shaking her head.

“Y-Yes, of course, my lady, I…” you stammered, cursing your shy personality under your breath. “W-Well, I wouldn't mind trying and…”

“Yes, and let it be life-size!” the doll exclaimed, comically waving her arms.

“Angie, lasciala estare,” the lady reprimanded the doll, making her return to her side with a gesture of her hand amid sinister laughter. “There's no need to boost her ego, don't you think?”

“Um, well, I guess you're right or, well, I don't know, I…” you stammered, unable to react to a conversation outside of the daily greeting. “Whatever you say, my lady,” you finally said, bowing slightly.

The lady nodded slowly, but didn’t move from her spot; she seemed to be waiting for something that you didn’t understand… Perhaps a conversation with someone who wasn’t made of porcelain?

“Um… um…” you continued to stammer, looking away from her, looking for a place to focus on that wasn't her addictive figure. “I hope you had a good night, my lady.”

“Mm,” she murmured in response, tilting her head as she slowly approached you, filling your senses with lavender.

“Glad to hear it,” you whispered almost without a voice as you felt her black dress brush against your work clothes, as you could see her pale hand, which reached out towards the bush. “Yes, well, I can't do miracles in this cold and…”

“Mm,” the lady murmured again, playing with a leaf in her fingers.

“Is there something wrong, my lady?” you asked nervously as you saw how she observed your work, as you could see part of her hidden face, a pale, young face.

“No,” she answered dryly, getting up again, but staying very close to you. “But you shouldn't be so busy with these bushes, the flowers are my priority.”

“Oh, I know, I'm sorry, I…” you quickly apologized, putting your hands together and taking advantage of the moment to get away from her intimidating presence.

“I haven't asked you to apologize,” she whispered in a stern tone, without looking at you.

“No, but…” you said confused, starting to notice the sweat on your hands.

“Then shut up,” Beneviento ordered you coldly, making you back away further.

“Yes, I…” you said trembling, regretting saying those words again. “I mean, okay.”

“Okay,” the woman repeated, maintaining a stoic pose again.

“Okay,” you repeated stupidly, making the red of your cheeks contrast even more with the snow. “Um…”

“What are you two playing?” Angie asked, interrupting that absurd conversation. “Are you stupid?”

“Angie,” the lady growled, with a tone that indicated a certain nervousness. The question was… was she really nervous? Why?

“Making a fool of myself… is my specialty,” you whispered embarrassed, turning your back to the lady and shaking your head.

“You aren’t making a fool of yourself, (Y/N),” the lady in black said, making your blood run cold. “You're natural, I like it.”

“Do you like me? I mean, do you like it?” you asked timidly, letting your mind get ahead of your reasoning. “I mean, I like you too and… Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't say anything.”

“Sei divertente,” the woman murmured, followed by something very similar to a laugh that came out of her veil. You were sure that you wouldn't forget that laugh, nor that strange conversation.

“I hope that's not a bad thing,” you said blushing, playing with the clippers, but unable to look at the lady.

“No,” she answered dryly, shaking her head, finally walking away from you while gesturing to her doll.

“Okay, I... thank you,” you said confused, bowing as she walked away from you elegantly, carrying Angie in her arms. “Thank you, Donna...”

For a moment you stood enthralled, watching as the black figure slowly moved away, sighing because you knew that the attraction you felt for her was much more than simple curiosity.

Anyone with eyes, or ears could tell the chemistry between you, but it was something you tried to ignore.

Her body was perfect, her words were beautiful like a soothing lullaby, but… Donna Beneviento wasn't one of the girls from the village, who you had some kind of relationships with, she was much more; she was a Lord.

With all the sleepwalking and strange things happening to you, you barely had time to process an internal truth that was running through your heart. You couldn't deny it, but you didn't want to see it: you were madly in love with her.

But love, or what you believed was some kind of platonic feeling, wasn't made for you, not with her, at least. Anyway, if you wanted to stay with her, your job as a gardener was your priority.

“You clumsy fool,” you lamented, ignoring the bush and approaching a corner of yellow flowers, the ones you knew you had to be careful with. “What are you thinking? It's impossible, (Y/N), you don't even know her, you don't even…. Oh, damn!” you screamed as you felt a thorn sticking into your skin, expelling drops of warm blood towards the white snow.

You already had enough distractions and worries, you couldn't think about what you felt for the lady, or you would do yourself much more harm than a simple prick.

“Okay, great, you're great,” you said, sighing and looking away from your wound. “Okay, strange woman, get out of my thoughts,” you added, gesturing comically.

Before you could think about what had happened, an unpleasant feeling took over. It wasn’t just a feeling, but a strange chill on the back of your neck, an uneasiness in your stomach, the unmistakable symptoms that told you that something, or someone, was watching you.

Instinctively you turned around looking for those stalking eyes you thought were watching. A black raven, which flew away at the sight of you, was your only answer. You were so busy thinking about Lady Beneviento that you almost forgot the void in your past, that darkness in your memory, all the strange things that happened to you.

But, between thinking about Donna, fantasizing about what it would be like to really meet her, seeing what her face was like, and trying to get answers about everything that was happening to you… Well, thinking about the lady was much better.

Unfortunately, she didn’t appear on the paths again, and the rest of the day passed with a disturbing calm. The silence of the plants was overwhelming, and your thoughts echoed in your head much louder than usual.

At night, as you got into bed, you wished you would wake up like that morning while you were rehearsing conversations with the lady in black, something that wouldn't make you look stupid, as you almost always did when you spoke to her.

But the work was exhausting, and sleep overcame you before you could imagine, once again, what her smile would be like.

The images in your dreams were quite confusing, but recurring: crows, laughter, darkness, and Donna, always Donna. The feeling that someone was chasing you forced you to move away from her black veil before lifting it, and anguish and confusion always prevailed over your dream wishes.

But the dreams barely lasted. The nightmares weren’t with your eyes closed, but upon awakening. The warmth of your body was a good sign. Something was covering you as your eyes tried with great effort to open. Your head was spinning, like a night out with your friends, but without the taste of alcohol on your lips.

At least it seemed like you had woken up in your bed, right?

Your vision was clearing as your back began to not recognize your old mattress, indicating to you that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't your bed.

Wood, humidity, paint... all those new smells began to run through your nose as your eyes focused on your surroundings. You weren't at home.

When you sat up, the blanket covering you slid down your body and panic began to make your heart beat too fast. That dark wood, the timid light, that table, those chairs... you knew where you were: in the Beneviento Manor.

You had only been in that house twice, but it was enough to remember it, to recognize the dampness of the walls, the timid sound of the waterfall coming through the window. But that wasn't the worst of it.

When your brain fully woke up, it detected something, a presence that climbed onto the couch and almost gave you a heart attack.

“Hey, silly! It's time to wake up!” Angie sang in a squeaky voice, making you jump exaggeratedly.

“Shit, shit!” you screamed, nervously kicking until, with a thud, you fell off the couch. “Ouch! Ouch…”

Trying to regain your composure, you got up from the floor, your nerves on edge and starting to feel the cold seeping through your pajamas. The worst of all was that you had overlooked the figure sitting in front of you, watching you in silence: Donna.

“Oh, my lady!” you exclaimed with an apologetic gesture, watching as her veil moved to follow you with her gaze. “What…? I-I don't understand… what am I doing here?” you asked confused and scared.

“What am I doing here? What am I doing here?” Angie mocked, repeating your words while the ventriloquist remained silent. “You're stupid!”

“Um, -I-I don't know what's going on, I… my head,” you complained, letting yourself fall on the couch and burying your face in your hands.

“Last night you seemed to know it,” the lady in black murmured, finally getting up from the chair, maintaining an authoritative posture.

“What? I don't… I don't remember anything, I went to sleep and…” you murmured, trying, with all your effort, to remember.

“Allow me to correct you,” the lady said, crossing her arms and getting a little closer. “Last night you came to my house, rambling about some crows that were chasing you,” she explained, leaving you completely pale.

“Me? But, but…” you stammered, shaking your head, your whole body shaking. “No, that…”

“Are you calling me a liar, giardiniera?” she asked in a demanding tone, getting even closer.

“What? No, no, I… I have no idea what you're talking about, my lady,” you explained with fear taking over your words. “I don't remember anything, I…”

“My lady? How bold, am I your lady now?” Donna asked, with a mocking voice and a marked accent. She seemed nervous too. “Last night I was just Donna.”

“I'm sorry, my lady, but, but... I don't understand anything,” you whispered, curling up on the couch, with your knees pulled up to your chest.

“You don’t understand anything,” she replied, with her fists clenched on either side of her hips. “What kind of game are you trying to play with me, gardener? What are you trying to do?”

“I-I don't know what you’re talking about... I don't, I don't know, I...” you stammered, with tears beginning to form in your eyes, feeling more and more helpless. “I don't know what happened to me.”

“Hey!” the doll shrieked, watching you. “Hey, Donna! I think she's telling the truth.”

“Mm?”

The situation was too tense. Your best weapon at that moment, the only one you had, was the truth.

“I… it's just…” you began, trying hard not to tremble too much, not to make the blush on your cheeks too evident. “I-it's been happening to me for a while now.”

“Mm,” the lady murmured, making a patient gesture with her head, indicating for you to continue.

“S-Sometimes, at night… I don't know, I do things… I wake up in strange places, outside of my bed and… I-I don't know… I think, I think I'm sleepwalking,” you said nervously, looking anywhere but at the woman in black. “But I don't remember anything of what happened and…”

“You don't remember anything,” Donna repeated with a slightly calmer voice.

“Nothing,” you confirmed with a sigh.

“Niente”

“N-niente,” you stammered.

“Mm, how curious,” she finally said, sitting down again in front of you. “I was hoping you would remember what you told me before you fainted in my arms.”

Your eyes flew open and your heart stopped. You were unable to move a single muscle and the exit was too far away. You had no escape, and above all, you had no idea what she was referring to.

“Did I faint?” you asked in a small voice, making the doll laugh in amusement. “I don’t…”

“You don’t remember,” Donna finished the sentence for you, shaking her head.

You just nodded, preparing yourself for the worst.

“B-But I surely didn't mean it, I was just dreaming and… if I said something wrong, I beg you to forgive me and…” you said fearfully, kneeling submissively on the floor and bowing your head while you joined your hands.

“Yes, it would surely be a lie,” the lady in black sighed with a sad tone, bringing you a steaming cup. “Get up, gardener.”

“Y-yes,” you sobbed timidly, obeying your mistress's orders.

“Here, it's tea, it will calm the cold,” she offered, to which you, reluctant, took the cup from her hands.

“T-Thank you… I promise it won't happen again,” you apologized, unable to look at her black veil, at the place where her gaze was, one that you only knew from an old portrait on the stairs.

“Mm,” she murmured, before standing up with a brusque gesture and gesturing to her doll. “Angie.”

“You are stupid,” the puppet growled at you before leaving slowly.

Doubt was killing you, not knowing was consuming you, what could you have said to Lady Beneviento? Was your job in danger? Maybe that tea was the last of your life? You wanted to know, you needed to know.

“Excuse me, my lady, wait, please,” you said, leaving the cup on the table and standing up, playing with your hands.

The lady's steps slowly stopped, and the veil on her face danced towards you again.

“Finish the tea and get out of my house,” she ordered you sternly, not letting you speak.

“Yes, but… I-I would like…” you said without thinking, getting closer to the black figure, trembling with fear. “I would like to know what I told you, my lady.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured in response, sighing slowly. “You only told lies, (Y/N).”

“I don't understand,” you denied more confused. “What kind of lies?”

“You said that I was beautiful,” she finally whispered, looking away from you with her invisible gaze.

Your blood froze again.

“W-What? Did I say that?” you asked without believing it. You would never say something like that, even if you thought about it, even if every day you hoped to see her heels in the snow, the black against the white, the lavender around you. “Oh, I-I…”

“Taci,” your lady scolded you. “This is the last time your stupid dreams interrupt my tranquility with absurd lies, is that clear?”

“B-But,” you stammered. “My lady, I…”

“Hey, you forgot about dinner,” Angie added, comically tugging at her owner's dress.

“Oh, certo,” Donna sighed, a mocking air in her words. “You also invited me to dinner. Do you find it funny?”

“What? Me?” you asked confused, pointing at yourself.

“Basta, get out before I regret leaving you alive. No one laughs at me, do you hear me? No one!” the lady interrupted, kicking the wooden floor. “I should punish you for this, but Mother Miranda sent you to my care so I'll be merciful, for once. But I don't do favors twice, (Y/N), so…”

“Actually…” you started, trying to save that horrible situation. “It would be an honor to have dinner with you, my lady.”

“Mm, you're so stupid,” Donna laughed, crossing her arms while Angie watched the conversation closely. “Don't make me angry, stupid gardener, get out before I…”

“Yes, I… I'm sorry, my lady, it won't happen again, my lady,” you apologized, walking towards the door, trying to escape as quickly as possible.

It could have been the most awkward moment of your life, but something inside you made you stop with your hand on the door, looking at the ravages of your sleepwalking as an opportunity, not as a mistake.

That little spark of daring was totally unknown to you. You would never have considered continuing to pull the string of her patience. Something was definitely wrong with you.

The stoic look of that portrait penetrated your mind, forcing you to make the most absurd move of your life.

“My lady,” you said with a weak voice, but strangely comfortable and soft. “I truly think you’re beautiful.”

“Mm?” she murmured, bewildered, shaking her head. “Don't you get tired of pissing me off?”

“I... well, I may not remember anything of what happened last night but... I would like to have dinner with you, if you want,” you asked with a strange confidence, with a knot in your stomach.

“You keep insisting, stupida...” the lady hissed, calming down instantly. “Va bene, at 8... and don't you dare to be late. If it's a trick, (Y/N), you'll pay the consequences, now go away.”

You nodded and obeyed. A date with Donna Beneviento? You had dreamed about it so many times that it seemed impossible.

It wasn't a memorable dinner, it was just awkward, strange. The lady in black definitely didn't believe that you made the effort to have dinner with her of your own free will, and even for you it was hard to believe that you were having dinner with her. Confidence was something completely unknown to you, to your shy and gentle character.

It could be something isolated, a test of loyalty or trust in your lady, but Donna insisted. That situation was repeated for the rest of the week.

Laughter, absurd conversations about your life in the village... Little by little, having dinner with Donna became routine, the term "my lady" disappeared, and the love that grew inside you was increasingly bigger, more evident.

The chemistry between you was clearly shown after several days. The lady in black wasn't completely sure that your smiles were sincere, but, like you, and that side of your personality that you had just discovered, she simply let herself go.

The rumors about Beneviento slowly dissipated with each of her shy laughs, her soft and flattering words. She was sick, yes, the blessing of the Gods wasn’t favorable to her, or so she told you, but she was far, too far from being the monster everyone was talking about.

“Aren't you cold? Waking up in the middle of the forest doesn't seem healthy,”-she asked one of those nights of endless chatter, looking at you curiously.

“The truth is that the answer will seem strange to you but...” you said, taking a sip of your glass of wine. “I feel the cold, but it doesn't seem to affect me.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured in response, slightly moving her veil to eat. “I'm surprised you haven't caught a cold.”

You laughed, shaking your head and looking away from the little you could see of her face, from the internal reconstruction your head made of what was undoubtedly a terribly beautiful woman.

“This may seem almost impossible to you, but I haven't gotten sick in a long time,” you explained, frowning, remembering all the strange things that happened while you were falling more and more in love with Donna.

“You could say you're lucky, (Y/N), and so are my flowers,” the lady answered, nodding elegantly. “I don't think I could, I mean, they couldn't live without your care.”

The blush returned to your cheeks, but melancholy took over you.

“I don't think I could live without you either, I mean, without these delicious dinners and... Wow, I... I should stop drinking, I'm just talking nonsense,” you said nervously, noticing the heat of embarrassment on your skin.

“You always say nonsense, like that I'm beautiful,” she murmured, shaking her head again and sighing.

“It's not nonsense,” you answered with a mischievous smile, encouraged by the wine. “I wish I had the courage to tell you when I was awake.”

“Do you always say things like that when you're asleep? The people around you should feel lucky,” Donna commented, playing with her fork, but listening attentively.

“Actually... I haven't always been a sleepwalker,” you said, ignoring that veiled compliment. “Something happened to me a while ago, something that... I still can't explain... there's a fog in my memories, and I can't stop thinking maybe everything that happens to me happens because of that and... well, it doesn't matter.”

“You're right, it doesn't matter,” she said, with a serious tone, getting up from her chair and approaching you again. “Thanks to that, you're with me.”

“I l-like being with you, Donna,” you stammered, taking the hand she offered you, gently getting up until you were at her height.

“You like being with me,” she repeated laughing, bringing her hands close to your face, caressing it erratically. “I like being with you.”

“Great, I guess, I…” you stammered, feeling terribly nervous, noticing on your skin, in your heart, the anticipation of an impossible kiss.

Before you could do anything, her hands moved away from your skin, going straight to the fabric that covered her face, finally revealing to you the beauty you dreamed of.

“Surely you are regretting it now,” the lady sighed, looking down while you, open-mouthed, studied her features.

She was… she was really beautiful. Her black hair, tied in a messy bun, framed her pale skin harmoniously. A horrible scar hid her right eye, being the reason why she always wore the veil. Nonsense, her beauty was so overwhelming that you almost fainted when you saw it with your own eyes.

“Yes, it's true,” you sighed, looking at her lips, gently grabbing her waist, which trembled at your touch. “I regret not telling you before.”

Her eye opened wide and a slight smile appeared on her lips, which were quickly kidnapped by yours in a passionate, wild kiss.

Her hands grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your body closer to hers in a frenetic dance, full of gasps, without words, just kisses, only the moisture of her lips on yours resonating in the old walls.

Passion took over the room, and your bodies, refusing to separate, roamed it erratically, looking for some safe place to rest, to merge. Unfortunately, just when your hands began to roam freely, Donna stopped, pulling away among gasps.

“No, wait…” she sighed, blinking nervously. “Y-You better go, (Y/N).”

“Have I done something wrong?” you asked scared. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no, io…” she stammered, shaking her head and grabbing your hands, looking at you with sadness, a strange sadness. “Will you come to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“What?” you asked frowning, laughing nervously. “Um… yes, of course but… I-I don't know, don't you want me to stay with you? We were having a good time, right?”

“Yes,” she answered quickly, squeezing your hands in hers. “Yes, but… but… I prefer you to go, (Y/N).”

“Oh,” you sighed disappointed. “Of course, I… I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I just…”

“I know, I…” she stammered, while the Angie doll, always watching, shook her head, surely rejecting the lady's behavior. “B-But flowers don't take care of themselves. I-I mean, you're still my gardener and…”

“Flowers,” you said with a bit of resentment, searching for an answer for that sudden change in behavior, one that, of course, you weren't able to find. “S-So… see you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Donna whispered when you let her hands go, running away before you took one more step. “Un attimo…”

After that whisper, your lips were blessed with one last kiss, a quick one, but just as passionate.

Her attitude was truly confusing, and you didn't know what to think, but you did know what to feel. She felt the same as you, and you couldn't blame her for being scared, or for feeling insecure. The best thing would be, as always, to let yourself go.

Of course, it wasn't your last kiss, nor your last dinner. Every night, the same situation was repeated: a delicious dinner, with her beauty already on display, caresses, glances, insatiable kisses that Donna always interrupted and above all, rejection.

Rejection of something more, of spending the night with her, of talking about what you were exactly, what you were to her. Your little nocturnal problem continued to haunt you, but it was no longer a problem.

Donna was the only thing that worried you. You were worried about the love you felt for her, not knowing what prevented her from declaring herself to you, what prevented her from asking you to be with her not only at night, but all day.

You couldn't complain, but as time went by, the situation became more and more uncomfortable.

You insisted on loving her, she rejected you. It could be because of the changes the Gods made to her body, but you knew there was something much deeper that prevented her from giving herself to you completely, something you began to write down in your old diary, forgetting about the strange places you used to wake up in.

“(Y/N)…” the lady protested when your kisses began to descend down her neck, while your body rested on hers, in the intimacy of the old sofa.

“Mm… yes, it’s time, I'm leaving,” you sighed disappointed, getting up after giving your lover one last kiss and walking towards your coat.

“Are you leaving, silly?” Angie asked as you wrapped yourself up, this time, without letting the lady give you one of those goodbye kisses that made you melt.

“Yes, I'm leaving,” you said with a slightly furious tone, tired of being patient, of understanding what was going through her mind. “It seems that I always have to leave.”

“Oh, that sounded like a complaint, silly gardener,” the doll scolded you, while the lady grabbed your waist from behind, kissing your hair.

“I'll see you tomorrow, vero?” Donna whispered in your ear, but your smile didn't widen like other times, you simply turned around cupping her face slightly, before separating yourself from her.

“Yes, as always,” you said in a dry tone, reaching the doorway, but taking a deep breath before disappearing. “Donna.”

“Mm?”

“I just… wanted to tell you that…” you stammered, finding in your words remnants of your former personality. “I love you.”

The lady in black looked at you and a brief smile appeared on her face, but the answer wasn’t what you expected; she simply nodded.

You had confessed, you had verbally declared the love you felt for her and… nod? Was that her answer? There was no patience left that you could use, you were almost desperate.

“Okay, that's enough,” you growled, slamming the door and crossing your arms. “A while ago you asked me what I was playing at, right? Well, it's my turn, Donna: what are you playing at?”

“Cosa? I don't understand,” she murmured, with a sad look, backing away.

“What am I to you?” you asked, approaching the withdrawn lady, intimidating her in a ridiculous way. “We've been doing this for weeks, kissing at night, caressing each other... I tell you that I love you and what's your answer?” you said with irony, mockingly imitating her previous gesture.

“D-Don't talk to me like that,” she said confused, shaking her head and blinking rapidly. “Y-You make me nervous.”

“You make me nervous,” you growled, hardening your words unconsciously, completely forgetting that, with a single gesture, she could force you to jump into the void. “What am I to you, Donna? A toy?”

“No”

“A doll? Your employee who has to work overtime? Is this part of my job? I have to take care of the flowers, and then of you? Donna, I can't take it anymore, I...” you questioned, slowly losing your nerves.

“You don't understand,” the lady hissed, changing confusion into irrational anger. “We can't, I can't...”

“What can't you do? Have sex with me? I've already told you a thousand times that I don't care if you have a...” you answered, thus beginning your first argument with her, something inevitable.

“It's not that, it's not that!” Donna shouted furious, making rationality return to your head and your body start to tremble. “You don't understand...”

“So explain it to me!” you shouted back, making the Angie doll run away from the place in a funny way, hiding under the table.

“Hey, watch your tone, gardener!” the puppet scolded you, to which you growled.

“Shut up,” you hissed. “Donna, I love you and… I, I'd like to think that I'm more than just your gardener… I want to share my life with you, do you understand?”

“I can't!” the lady in black shrieked, making her voice bounce off the walls. “I can't love you!”

“Why?” you asked, watching as her hands trembled more and more, as madness took over her.

“Because… because I… I can't stand the idea of ​​losing you!” she finally said, sobbing, with a tear running down her cheek. “I-I can't, cazzo…”

“Lose me?” you asked a little calmer, trying, unsuccessfully, to avoid an imminent crisis, a terrible one. “Donna…”

“You don't understand, (Y/N), I can't love, I can't let my heart love you because… because I couldn't stand… seeing you… Oddio… tesoro, I can't… you, you're…”

“What am I?” you asked, approaching cautiously.

“You're mortal!” Donna screamed madly, with a burning hatred in her eyes. “You're just another villager and I… I'm going to have to see you… see you die… and I'll lose you and… and…”she said, short of breath, so you put your hands on her shoulders.

“Donna, don't… don't think about it, I… there's still a long way to go… and I'd like to spend my life with you and…” you stammered, trying to make her reason.

“I can't allow myself to fall in love with you… not when I know I'm going to lose you… I… No, no, no!” she yelled, moving her arms, pushing you away. “Porca puttana!”

“Oh, shit, don't do that,” you said scared, trying to stop her arms, which were flailing wildly, trying to stop her hands from pulling on her hair with excessive force. “Donna, please, relax.”

“Cazzo! Cazzo, cazzo!” she cursed while crying in agony. “Ti amo! Ti amo!”

“O-Okay, okay, Donna, please don't…” you whispered, unable to control her.

She was completely out of her mind, running away from your reassuring hands, hitting hard everything in her path.

“Mannaggia! Mannaggia!” the lady continued screaming, kicking the chairs, the table, hitting her head against the wood. “I can't!”

“Donna, Donna…” you called trying to hold her, but it was impossible, she was too strong.

“Who do you think you are to do this to me!?” she shouted at you, quickly grabbing you by the collar of your dress, lifting you in the air. “You have conquered me… just to make me suffer!”

“Donna, let me go… Gods… Angie!” you called to the doll, who approached cautiously.

“Donna, Donna, let her go, come on! You love her, I know it, you told me!” the doll said, also trying to calm her sick owner. “Calmati, Donna!”

The lady let you go, but that didn't stop her anger, which slowly turned into tears, falling to her knees on the floor.

“Don't die... I can't lose you, I can't... they'll kill you, they...” she stammered completely gone, lost, inconsolable.

“Shit...” Angie hissed, running to your side and climbing onto a small table while you crouched down, trying to calm your beloved. “I'll have to call her.”

“Who? What are you going to do?” you asked while fighting the spasms and uncontrolled fury of the lady.

“Mother Miranda! It's me, Angie! Donna's lost her mind again!” the doll screamed into the phone.

Mother Miranda?

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, someone knocked on the door. A shiver ran through your body when you saw the priestess with a serious look that turned sinister when she noticed your presence.

“Gods, what's wrong with you now, Donna?” the blonde asked, ignoring you and forcibly lifting her adopted daughter. “For the Gods' sake, get up, have you taken your medication?”

“Mother... she... she...” Donna sobbed, resting her head on the raven woman's chest, who sighed, caressing her reluctantly.

Miranda's grey eyes locked with yours, making you involuntarily step back and lean against a wall.

“Oh, honey... what did that stupid girl do to you?” asked the witch, continuing to comfort poor Donna.

“I haven't done anything,” you defended yourself, catching her attention again.

“She's going to...” Donna murmured, burying herself in the priestess. “She's going to die, and I love her, Mother, I love her... I love her...”

“Oh, my precious girl,” Miranda said, with a terrifyingly affectionate tone. “Calm down... everything is okay.”

“No,” the lady said unhinged again, moving away from her mother and shaking her head. “N-No, nothing is okay... Mother Miranda, please... I don't want her to die. I'll do anything for...”

“Shhh, taci, Donna,” the witch snapped, wiping the tears from her clothes and lifting the kneeling lady back up. “But how curious fate is... Now, be quiet, dear, no one is going to die.”

You, unable to do anything, terrified by the presence of the priestess, limited yourself to listening.

“No, Mother, maybe not now, but she will die and I will be alone again and…” Donna explained, desperate.

A sinister smile formed on the blonde's face, making you frown.

“No, dear, she won’t die, (Y/N) will live forever,” she commented. “Just like you.”

“What?” Donna and you asked at the same time, making a disturbing laugh bounce off the walls.

“Mm, I must admit that I didn’t expect these results, (Y/N), you were too valuable to be thrown away,” Miranda said, making you, confused, shake your head. “Tell me, girl, haven't you noticed something strange lately?”

“Yes,” you answered coldly, getting a little closer to the women. “My wounds heal on their own and at night…”

“Oh, let me guess, you lose consciousness… you wake up far from home, don’t you?” Mother Miranda whispered, making your eyes widen.

“How do you know?”

“Because I did it, (Y/N)… I must confess that you weren’t a success, but the Cadou didn’t kill you, so I decided to leave you in the hands of my little Donna in case you gave me any surprises.”

The revelation came to your head. That fog in your memories, that empty space in your memory… had it all been Miranda’s doing?

“S-So…” Donna commented, wiping away her tears. “Is (Y/N) like me?”

“Sort of… but she's a failure, aside from her sleepwalking, she's a simple villager, a waste, unfortunately,” the witch commented, leaving you with more questions than answers. “So… well, I guess it's okay if you keep her.”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted. “Did you experiment on me? What have you done to me?”

The blonde woman didn't answer, she simply laughed softly, passing by you indifferently.

“Cheer up, dear, you're immortal,” she commented before disappearing in a black cloud, leaving you completely in shock.

“But, but, but,” you stammered, with too much information, so much that you couldn't fully take it in. “What? What does it mean?”

“Tesoro…” Donna sighed, catching you by surprise, grabbing your face with a radiant smile. “It means I won't lose you... you can be mine forever...”

“Wait a minute, Donna, I don't...” you said confused, pushing her gently. “I need time to...”

A wild and salty kiss interrupted your complaints, and a hug calmed your doubts, a strong, joyful hug, totally out of madness.

“There will be time to think, vieni,” the lady told you, pulling your wrist. “You will be mine forever, tesoro... forever...” she sighed, kissing you quickly, kisses that were hard for you to return “Now I can love you.”

“Yes, Donna, but...” you said confused, moving away subtly. “I just don't understand.”

“I want to make love to you,” she said in your ear, making your body tense and a burning heat start to rise up your legs.

“Um, I… I…” you stuttered, shaking your head, though you didn't have much time to think, as her arms lifted you into the air, leaving you on the couch.

“Per favore…” the lady begged, climbing up your hips while her lips timidly rested on the skin of your neck.

As always, there was no better option than to let yourself go and you, despite still being disoriented, decided to close your eyes and worry only about the warm of her body against yours.

“Gods, Donna…” you sighed, grabbing her face to kiss her while her hands undressed you impatiently. “Donna…”

“I won't lose you anymore, I'll never lose you,” she repeated among gasps while her nails scratched your skin, cupping your exposed breasts and your hips rubbing against hers. “Mine…”

“Yours,” you answered, with the heat of your cheeks dispelling doubts, with her cold hands contrasting with your hot skin, with electric currents running through your body every time your hips played together.

“Do you want to be mine, tesoro? Mine forever?” the lady asked, deactivating Angie with a gentle movement of her hand while playing with her own dress, thus releasing her throbbing erection, one that made your eyes shine.

“Oh, yes, I do...” you said biting your lip, overwhelmed by the reaction that your kisses provoked in her body, by that impatience, the gentle stimulation her hand made on her shaft. “Donna, Gods... you are big.”

She laughed childishly, embarrassed by your comment but focused on her task, on making you hers abruptly, on taking you after so much time full of doubts and uncertainty.

Your mouth moaned involuntarily as you noticed her heat on your wet entrance, the precise movements she made with the tip on your clit, passing, traveling, conquering your folds in such a hurried way, with that furious madness turned into pure passion.

“I want to enter you, (Y/N), I want your body to embrace me,” she sighed in your ear, repressing the desire to penetrate you quickly, playing little by little to enter your wetness, but being careful not to hurt you. “(Y/N)…”

“Yes, Donna… fuck…” you said in the middle of a frenzy of moans and desperate movements of your hips, wanting to fulfill her wish, wanting to fulfill yours.

“No…” Donna protested, moving away and pulling your hair as a punishment. “Don't talk like that. Pretty girls don't talk like that,” she whispered, biting your lip, like a sinister threat that made you lose control more and more.

“Mm, and what do pretty girls do?” you asked in a suggestive tone, sliding down so that her erection was once again impregnated with your arousal, joining your hand to hers, going up and down her skin, making the lady moan in a tremendously erotic way.

“Pretty girls... let themselves be taken care of...” she whispered in her melodic voice, interrupted by the moans caused by being masturbated by you. “Cazzo...”

“Mm, who's saying bad words now?” you joked, completely losing track of what had happened, letting yourself be carried away by passion as you placed your body in the correct position and slowly introduced the tip inside you.

“Mm…” the lady murmured, pushing herself inside you, stretching your body as your legs parted to make room for her.

The sensation was overwhelming, even a little uncomfortable at first, but your new character, one that surely had to do with what that witch had done, prevented you from feeling anything but pleasure.

“Yes, yes Donna!” you screamed as you noticed how she slid down your walls, how you covered her with your wetness while her hips moved wildly, possessively, desperately.

“Ti amo… ti amo!” she cried euphorically, grabbing your legs to move you as she pleased while emphasizing her thrusts. “You feel so good…”

“Gods, you too!” you moaned, closing your eyes, wanting only to feel pleasure, only to feel her, awakening, unintentionally, one of your wet nighttime fantasies. “Donna, do it inside, fill me!”

“Oh, yes, tesoro, of course I will… you will carry my seed inside you… no one will be able to touch you… you will be mine!” she moaned as she let your movements guide her as you wanted.

“Yes, yes!” you shrieked, hitting the couch, being stopped by her firm hand, by her bright eye looking at you with a chilling desire. “Make me a mother, my love! I want to have your babies!”

“Yes, yes, tesoro… Cazzo, it's… it's too much… I'm going to…” the lady in black growled, moving faster and faster as your premature orgasm squeezed her body with intensity and your screams of pleasure reverberated in the old mansion.

“Fill me!” you screamed in the euphoria of your orgasm, noticing how, after an embarrassed gasp, her seed began to fill you and her movements ceased, staying very close, as deep inside you as she could.

Wet kisses, caresses, whispers… after that lustful act, there was only love, the realization that you would always have each other, that she was yours, and you were hers.

“Um, (Y/N)… I…” Donna murmured, finally pulling out of you with an embarrassed face. “I don't know if I'm ready to… have a baby …”

“Oh, Donna, honey…” you said amused, caressing her face. “Don't give it any importance, it's just a fantasy.”

“A fantasy? Can you explain it to me? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about,” she said, a little confused, looking at you curiously.

“Mm, well, I guess I have all eternity to explain it to you but… now… how about you make me yours again?”

[trafalgarology]

Please please Shanks or Law taking care of sick!reader

Ouuuu I always wanted to do headcanons based on sick!reader!

Law and Shanks Taking Care of You When You're Sick

GN!Reader x Trafalgar Law and GN!Reader x Akagami no Shanks (pre-established relationship)

SFW!

Your immune system is usually strong, so you usually don't get sick

But one day, you suddenly fell ill, like super SUPER ill and you're bedridden

But you don't let the others find out, and everyone thinks that you're sleeping.

But once the crew finds out you're down with a sickness for the first time they freak out and tell their captains.

Trafalgar Law

Once he's alerted that you're down with illness, he heads straight to your room

He's pissed that you didn't say anything to him but he couldn't stay mad once he saw how sick you really were

He's a doctor so of course he knows what to do! He comes back to your room with a blood pressure monitor, thermometer, and an IV

Yeah he kind of goes overboard

But I think he would have an innate fear of his loved one getting sick or ill because of what happened to his family and friends with the White Lead disease and it triggers him

So he does everything under his power to make sure you're okay

"Hold still I'm trying to take your blood pressure"

"Law, this is fourth time you've done this in the last hour"

He would make sure that you're well fed with hot soup

Makes sure that you're taking your medication even though they taste terrible

"I don't want to take it"

"(Y/n)-ya, I will literally cut you in half and place that pill directly in your stomach so help me God"

He would refuse to leave your side and will sleep on a chair next to you

Will make sure that you're hydrated

Expect a 2-litre jug of water in your room and he will make you finish one a day until you better or else he threatens to hook you up to an IV

"How many times did you pee today? If you pee a lot it means you drank a lot of water which will help you recover"

"Uh I didn't go yet"

"You have 1 minute to drink 1 litre of water or else I'm hooking you up to this IV right now"

Once you're better he will force you to do checkups with him every month from now on

"I hate the infirmary I refuse to do monthly checkups. Also, isn't supposed to be annual?"

"I don't trust your immune system anymore"

He may be overbearing and too much but that's because he loves you very much and hates to see you sick <3

Akagami no Shanks

The man beelines it to your room as soon as Benn alerts him that you're down with an illness

He starts freaking out because he thinks you're dying because you've never been sick before until now

"Omg please don't die yet we have to get married first"

"Shanks, darling, I just have a flu"

Y'all know that scene where Luffy tries to make Nami feel better on Drum Island when she was sick and he makes a silly face

Yeah, Shanks does the same thing

His face is scribbled with blank ink and his hair is tied up into two ponytails as he tries to make you laugh. Hongo walks in on him and accidentally stabs Shanks with one of his needles in shock

While Hongo does the actual healing since he's the doctor, Shanks tries his best to assist him even though he was no help

"Captain can you not use my stethoscope on their asscheeks please"

"Sorry I was trying to see if I could hear their heartbeat from there"

Shanks would try to cook soup for you but for some reason it tasted like beer

"Is it delicious? I tried to make soup for you so you'd feel better!"

"Why does it taste like beer? And is that a dead fly?"

While you're sleeping, he'd put cold damp towels on your forehead and change them every hour on the dot

Shanks will also refuse to leave your side as well. He will be glued next to you until you got better

He'd give lots of forehead kisses and will cuddle with you, much to your dismay

"Honey, it's getting too hot"

"I know, it's cause I'm here"

"No you loveable idiot you're hugging me too tight, let me go before I cough on your face"

Once you're fully recovered the man is stuck to you like velcro and smothers you with his love and kisses

"Shanks stop it you're going to make me sick with all of your germs!"

"Then let's both get sick!"

He may be clueless but he does his best to take care of you because he loves you <3

------

LOL this was fun to write

[boothillssugarmomma]

sunday likes shiny stuff bc ravens likes shiny stuff, its just an idea

I love that idea! Birds all like shiny stuff so I could see him sneaking away with your jewelry and trinkets!

🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀

Shiny Treasures

(Sunday x Fem!Reader)

cw-: lying Sunday, fluff, embarrassed boy, nervous boy 🤭

🎀 authorsnote: I literally was supposed to post this three weeks ago I'm so sorry 😭

please don't steal my work!

🎀Taglist🎀HSR Master List🎀 Other Lists🎀

Sunday had...a certain fondness for shiny things...a rather childish and unanticipated flaw to his character, really. No matter how small, insignificant or worthless they were.

Perhaps it had something to do with the halovians' innate desire for attention and glory, that would explain it. Or maybe it was because he was like a bird. But whatever the case, he was rather drawn to the gleam of precious gems and glittery accessories.

He sometimes tries to snatch your jewelry, thinking that you wouldn't notice, but fails miserably and you find that adorable.

"Hey hon do you know where that necklace I was wearing yesterday went?" You hum, peeking into his office.

Your boyfriend is hard at work, staring at some papers with concentration as he writes on them.

Sunday looked at you through the corner of his eye. His eyes looked a bit panicked before he started to concentrate on his papers again, but at this moment, he was just pretending.

"No, I don't...why my love?"

He answered with a simple reply. He thought that might work, right?

"Oh really?" You smile as you lean against the doorway. "I was going to wear it to that event we need to go to tonight."

Sunday stayed silent. And for some reason, his face started to redden a bit.

He knew that you weren't a fool. Why did he even think that you didn't know he stole your jewelry? Sunday sighed.

"Fine."

He opened his left drawer to carefully pick up your necklace and hold it out to you. Blushing as he looks away.

You snicker walking forward to lean down and kiss his forehead. "I know you like shiny things baby...but try to work on it?" Your voice soothes his embarrassment a bit.

Sunday looks at you, his face going even redder when you kissed his forehead.

"Mhm...I will...sorry"

He answered softly. He definitely didn't want to admit that he had an unhealthy obsession with shiny things, but he knew you already learned his secret anyways.

"Now...do you know where my rings are?" You glance into his eyes, yours have a hint of amusement while his are just plain panic.

"N-No..."

Sunday looked away. You knew he was lying again. He was bad at it, and he knew that you probably knew he was acting. You couldn't help but find that adorable.

"You must have placed them in our room...maybe on the nightstand!" He stammers a bit with his lie.

This wasn't like him and he hated it, the lying was killing him even if it couldn't be helped. He knew you weren't mad, you were amused, you loved his obsessions. But he still felt out of control with himself.

"Okkk..." You hum before kissing his nose. "So if I were to...check my nightstand in an hour...would they be back?" Your eyes narrow playfully as they gaze into his.

He blushed again. He really wasn't good at lying. Especially to you...his lovely girlfriend.

"Y-yes."

He replied. Sunday still found it quite difficult to look at you in the eyes while he was embarrassed like this. Why did he even steal them in the first place?

"Alright my little dove..." You smile softly, walking to the door before stopping and looking over your shoulder. "Oh and I wanted to tell you that I hung the suit you'll be wearing up on your door for when you get ready."

"T-Thank you, darling."

Sunday sighed of relief. He thought that you were going to keep asking him for jewelry back, reminding him of his little habit for the rest of the day. Sunday stood and followed to the door to grab his suit.

He quickly decided to give you a kiss on the cheek as a way to apologize for his silly behaviour.

"Let me know when you want me to help tie your tie. I'll be in our room." You smile before walking down the corridor out of his sight.

"Mhm, will do."

Sunday let out a heavy breath. Now that you're out of his sight, he has time to collect himself. He can't stop thinking about the feeling of your skin on his lips.

His thoughts always go crazy when you're around.

After he starts to prepare himself for the event, reading over his speech, making quick changes. He finally slips his suit on before glancing into his office mirror and remembering his tie.

He walks down the corridor where you had walked a bit previously into your shared room.

Glancing in he notices you sitting at your vanity, clearly doing your last preparations as well. His eyes soften as he watches you, his beautiful dove.

Finally he cleared his throat and spoke. "Hey, darling? Do you mind helping out a bit?" Holding the tie up he blushes embarrassed.

"Hmm?" You hum looking over your shoulder and glance at his undone tie. A warm laugh escapes your lips before you nod. "Cmere honey."

He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your back. He looked at your neck, and decided to give a little peck to it. He then hid his face in your shoulders.

"I don't know why, but I feel quite embarrassed right now. I mean I should be able to do my own tie..." Sunday sighs softly. "Please Help me out, will you darling...?" He asked softly, his hot breath against your neck.

"Of course my love..." You hum, making quick work to turn around and start tying his tie.

His eyes catch a glint of light out of the corner of them. Glancing to your vanity he notices a pair of sparkly diamond earrings, ones he bought for you no doubt.

He caught himself looking at the earrings. But he was just so tempted to take them right now, but decided to try to restrain himself.

Sunday waited patiently for you to tie his tie. He found this kind of bonding with you wholesome...if only he wasn't thinking about those damned earrings.

He couldn't handle it anymore, so when you were distracted he used his arm length to his advantage and swiped the earrings, putting them in his pocket.

Sunday felt a sense of guilt, stealing your earrings, but he also felt satisfied. He had to act normal now, and hope you didn't notice he pocketed your earrings.

"All done!" You smile brightly as you turn to the mirror to show him. "God you look so handsome..."

His blush returns, even though he's used to your compliments...he can't ever get used to the notion that you're his. "Thank you, darling. You look absolutely stunning yourself."

He said, and gave you a smile. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your hair lightly.

You both stand there for a few minutes, gazing at the mirror and at each other. But eventually the silence had to be broken.

"Ok! Go grab your speech and we can head out!" You smile patting his chest. He nods softly before you watch him walk to the door.

Sunday was obviously trying to rush out of the room, with a sense of panic in his mind that maybe you somehow noticed the earrings he just swiped.

"Oh and Sunday?"

His body tenses as he places a hand on the doorway. He gulps a bit before turning to you. "Y-Yes honey?"

"Earrings please." You snicker before holding your hand out. Eyes amused instead of angry.

"You noticed...?"

He asked, looking at your hand nervously. He slowly reached for his pocket and took out the earrings, reaching to hand them to you while looking away. He was as red as a flame spawn...

"It's hard not to when you bumped my waist with your hand while trying to reach for them..." You roll your eyes playfully.

He looks down at the ground, his wings drooping a bit. You gently cup his face and tilt his head upwards a bit.

"I could never get mad at my cute little dove..." You kiss his cheek. "Its kinda cute..."

"Heh...you mean that?"

He let out a sigh of relief. At least you didn't get mad at him for stealing your jewelry. He still had a hint of curiosity in his eyes though, wondering just how much jewelry you had.

Instead of asking he just gave you a small peck on the nose.

"My little Halovian..." You chuckle softly. "Such a jewelry snatcher." Walking to the front door, slipping your heels on. "Is your sister also like this?"

"Oh believe me...hah, she's worse."

"...remind me to never bring jewelry around her."

"Noted, my dear."

🎀End🎀

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) Mel Medarda does not dislike Viktor and she's not biased against him

I feel like I'm seeing some rehashed arguments leftover from S1, but I see some wild (to me) claims that Mel dislikes Viktor, or looks down on him as a person from the undercity or for being poor, or that Mel is jealous of Jayce's time and wants to keep him all to herself. These are all wild to me because we have canon refutations of every single point that people seem to be ignoring.

Mel does not dislike Viktor. At most, she might be neutral towards him and, at worst, on one (1) occasion saw him as an ideological opponent to one of her goals. We have evidence of this in canon in her reaction to hearing that Viktor is dying and in the scene when he's in the Hex cocoon and she comes to check on him and reassures Jayce that, "He will come back to us." How close she feels to him is up to interpretation, but she shows concern for his wellbeing and genuine care for his recovery.

We have no evidence Mel looks down on Viktor, and why would she? The first time she would have met him would be as Heimerdinger's assistant, a respectable position, and then as the co-founder of Hextech. Viktor may not be Noxian royalty but he has never been low-status when she's known him. As Mel said, "No one is expendable, that's what this is all about." We don't have any evidence or scenes that show Mel dismissing someone she's met in person just because of their birth.

And on that point about being Noxian, Mel is not from Piltover. She is, technically, a political refugee/exile from Noxus, albeit a wealthy one which obfuscates for many the fact she is a refugee. She cannot go back to her home country, as far as she knows.

Mel came to Piltover as a young adult. She wouldn't have grown up with Piltover biases. She'd have her own biases as Noxian, to be sure, and like many people of extreme privilege, I have no doubt that Mel can overlook people in need like the undercity or see people who are wealthy and/or political players as more important to her goals, but automatically ascribing class or cultural biases to her the way Caitlyn and Jayce have them innately towards the undercity as citizens of Piltover who grew up there, is making up a bunch of stuff that just isn't there in the text.

Mel never shows possessiveness of Jayce, quite the opposite, especially when it comes to Viktor. When she hears Viktor is dying, she immediately says that Jayce should leave her to go be by Viktor's side. She never questions why Jayce is taking care of Viktor when Viktor is in the Hex cocoon. She never chastises Jayce for leaving the Council in its time of need (even though she'd have reason to there!) or for leaving to take care of Viktor. She never demands Jayce's time for personal reasons and she never badmouths Viktor. She completely understands the importance of their bond (however you view that bond) and the only thing she advises Jayce to do when she visits him after he abandoned the Council to go help Viktor is go check in with other important people in his life after the bombing, like Caitlyn, who lost her mother, and Jayce realizes Mel is right because she's more adept with people than he is, and realizes he's been neglecting other people in his life who are hurting.

The one scene people use to say that Mel dislikes Viktor is this one, where she encourages Jayce to create defensive Hextech weapons. People use the fact that when Viktor tells her absolutely not, she gives him a disappointed look, and then refocuses her efforts on persuading Jayce, who is the easier target and the more effective one because he has more power.

Personally, I don't see that as disdain at all, it's just practical. Mel has a goal. Her goal is Hextech weapons (a goal she will later walk back when she realizes the consequences). Viktor is unmovable on this point. Jayce is not AND if he agrees, he has the power as a Councilor to make them happen. He could probably also persuade Viktor too, which Mel has zero chance of.

Mel's disagreement with Viktor here to me should not be read as her feelings on him in their totality, it is an ideological one separate from whether or not they care for each other as people. Mel is entirely able to separate those two things as a mature, intelligent, and extremely skilled-with-people person.

(Viktor, on the other hand, has disliked her since the start and sees her as a threat, especially with her influence on Jayce. But that's another essay entirely.)

[insanescriptist]

Flip the Table

Casually eavesdropping on what should be highly secure frequencies, Jason sipped his beer in a sleezy saloon style sports bar somewhere on the Vegas strip, nominally watching college(?) football; he's a hockey fan because baseball's boring as shit to watch and he's never got the appeal about American football. Football to the rest of the world was at least worth watching for the drama. Something had the Justice League in a tizzy and Zatanna -the one who normally covered Vegas when it came to the costumed crazies- was off world; Jason didn't have the details exactly but it sounded like Zatanna was dealing with some magical planar stuff and was not expected back for at least six more days. Assuming all went well.

So like any reasonable person who's going away for a time, she turned on her home security, had the alerts wired over to a friend -in this case Justice League Dark- gave a list of what was needed to be done and when -the pick up my mail and mow my lawn equivalants- went on her trip, trusting that the JLD were watching over her city and it wouldn't be on fire when she got back.

Such glorious hope.

And thus something happened so when Jason pulled into Vegas proper to investigate a desperate -read last hope- lead on a missing person's case, Jason happened to spy one of the lesser members of the JLD losing their shit in the sky. And so in a moment of civic duty, Jason started spying on them.

Magic was not something anyone trained by the Bat really ever got comfortable about, but chances were magic bullshit was going to intervene in his case. Justice League shit spilled over everything, all the time. Ghost cultists tripping Zatanna's necromancy alarms or whatever they were, was not Jason's business. Not unless the presumed cultists -those that had survived- had the person he was looking for.

No, he was looking at a missing person's case and his lead was 1. cold and 2. a longshot and 3. in a city full of tourists and catering staff, where "seen anything unusual lately" could be "there was this trio of tourists arguing how sex with your best friend doesn't count as cheating," or "someone having a meltdown over the delayed shipping of organic blueberries to the hotel," or "Sarah Maria got murdered a couple weeks ago on the job, but I haven't seen any notice about her funeral stuff on her social media, why yes, I do know she's dead, oh, she's dead and I'm an idiot for expecting someone dead to post on their socials their funeral deets."

Point was, he could look and ask all he wanted, beat feet for days, but the chances of this lead panning out were basically so minuscule that Jason could treat this more as a hobby case while on vacation. He still did his due diligence, asked the staff a few questions, called the guests on the same floor during the time period of their stay about how they found their stay, ran into the dead end of shitty business practices -they recorded over their own records every two weeks- and so unless Jason got the ability to do magic and do a "point me!" spell, the case would turn cold. It sucked when it happened but sometimes the evidence wasn't there. Or wasn't noticed or was destroyed before it could be collected. Sometimes people just didn't remember shit until three weeks later, which with some follow up digging gave him the lead to the hotel. Which got him nothing after that.

As Jason Todd didn't gain an innate ability to do magic that he was aware of that actually counted as magic bullshit magic instead of a couple cantrips, all he could do was get a beer and some food in a Vegas style Texas saloon bar. Which not his first choice, but it was full enough no one really paid attention to anyone. Technically a sport's bar but also very much was not. It was also busy enough that Jason ended up getting asked if someone could set with him at his table -which real Jason said hell no to, but cover Jason did agree to-

Oh. Meta. Jason realized quickly. Oh no, he's hot.

His hair is on fire!

How did the server miss that? Most metas don't casually out themselves like that! Too many people willing to target them for whatever power.

That hair was flaming, tied back in a low tail; Jason blinked and the hair flickered color, looked like normal hair -black- and then back to white fire, then black fire, some tv static abomination of color, white hair and then black hair. Another blink and it appeared to be black flames for hair and yeah, Jason closed his eyes. Pointedly ignored the hair thing. If the meta asked, Jason was judging him for the stupid little goatee.

The rest of the meta was built along the same lines as Jason himself, tall, broad and built. Packed with muscle, which was something to make note of; metas usually were more durable and could hit harder, so Jason casually made note to not get hit if a fight broke out.

Which it might, or probably would.

That's just how Jason's luck ran. To shit.

Said meta also ordered food and a beer, didn't even get asked for ID -unfair bias- and judging by the sound, turned in the seat to look at the American football screen that Jason had been ignoring. His hair had at least settled to black flames instead of the glitchy hair.

Of course as this was Vegas, people gambled on outcomes of games too. Which is how Jason learned the meta was rich enough to blow a couple grand -not expensive in the world of supers- but more than what the average person would be comfortable betting.

There were better ways to piss away money than gambling on sports. Like on over priced burgers and onion rings with an order of mozzerella sticks. The burger was good, admittedly Jason's had better and then some party of guys was yelling at the ref on a screen. And yup, that's some altercation with another table but the barman broke it up with a couple of words.

His tablemate muttered something about the ref having made the right call if one of the players wanted to continue a career professionally and Jason used that as social leverage to get a name -Dan, no last name given- and a bit more in-depth explanation on what stakes were going on; he's a hockey guy, not a football guy.

Some time later, Dan had caught him up on the football drama -nothing compared to the hockey drama- and conversation had drifted significantly from sports, lightly touched on family -Dan had siblings he shared little about other than they existed, which fair, they could also be metas and at risk- much like Jason did -he had siblings that existed, no further details- and parents weren't mentioned. Instead a lot of engineering talk, a slide into ethics -Dan's opinion on killing super villains was very much that some people needed Ended- and some small talk about how Dan's high school English teacher cursed in classical book titles.

Soon the easy joy of potential friendship ended when his phone rang; that was the Batman ringtone and Jason felt no guilt hanging up on him. And again. And again.

Then Dick rang and nope. He was not dealing with their shit. Dick would just sweeten up whatever shit B wanted to shovel.

And then Oracle's ringtone rang. Oh, now that was serious. Justice League shit spilling into his life again. No fucking doubt about it.

"Uh-huh, so what's up? Because I gotta say, I am a couple drinks in and the whole bar is waiting for one of the football teams to fumble or foul up their next play so they can throw down."

"Jay-" She started because much like Bruce, she would rather go straight into the mission, and Jason absolutely had wrong-footed her. Because instead of making excuses to leave, Jason had absolutely stayed. So now she had to rephrase things on the fly because who knows who might be listening in. "Hey, it's on the news that the Justice League is showing up in Vegas; something about investigating something magical showing up."

"Uh-huh, that's not a surprise. There was some magic ninny flying in a panic earlier. I decided it wasn't my business."

"I hadn't heard that," -bullshit, she just hadn't double-checked that herself yet- "but what I did hear that some cult might have succeeded in bringing something over."

"Uh-huh. Well, no one's praying to Cthulu yet, there's been no troublemaking beyond the usual human malice and nothing's on fire."

"We were just concer-" And Jason hung up on Oracle.

He'd pay for that later, but petty was satisfying now.

"Sounded important."

"Was bullshit."

"So an entity summoned by a cult that tripped a bunch of magicians into a tizzy-"

Yeah, those sharp ears were not for show. Enhanced hearing check. "That's a bunch of incompetents panicking." Time for his good guess to hit or miss. "You're not going to decide to destroy Vegas, are you?"

"Done it before, doing it again seems pointlessly petty." Statements Jason wasn't going to prod further right now.

"And what if Wisconson University loses?"

"Might flip the table." Dan shrugged.

"More beer?" Jason asked.

"Sure."

[blarshwritezz]

So it's been not quite a year since I last posted a fic. But, I was struck with a sudden urge to come back, so here I am. Ramble about my absence after the fic. I hope you all enjoy

Yandere OC x Reader

M yan x GN reader

TW - Language, implications of murder, mentions of cheating

You were perfect. Well, not really obviously, but about as close as a person could get. And you had your dear parents to thank for that, of course. They raised you right. Kept you in line, made sure you didn't overindulge, stopped foolish phases from your younger years in their tracks. They even set you up with your current boyfriend, who you'll likely marry someday. He was... He was from a good family. One with decent money, like yours.

And your dear old parents also made sure you knew who to stay away from. The weirdos of the world. There were some real freaks out there, the kind that could cause serious harm. But that didn't mean you feared them. That would be stupid. Weird as they might be, aren't they people too...?

But of course, the worst one... "You know what they say, 476th times a charm!" A bouquet of roses blocked your vision, the soft petals unceremoniously pushed into your face. "Won't you be mine?"

Zeyuna. The biggest freak you've ever met. There were so many strange things about him... No way he was human! And for over a year now, not a day has passed where he hasn't asked you out. How desperate could he be?

"No. For the millionth time, no." You rolled your eyes, pushing away the flowers. "I'm already in a relationship."

"Yeah, and that dickwad doesn't deserve you." And such crude language. Had he no refinement? "How can you stay with that guy when he literally makes out with other bitches in front of you?"

"That's none of your concern! Leave me alone for goodness sake!" You stormed off, ending your daily little interaction the same way you always did. Seriously, what did he know! There were more important things than loyalty! Besides, even though your boyfriend was, well, exactly that, you weren't too fond of him either. It worked out well.

He just wouldn't understand! He's just some... Some hooligan! A hooligan that does anything he wants with no regard for others! Anything! Anything at all...

He watched you leave, his 12 dozen roses dropped to the floor as he sighed. This time too... Apparently his latest invention hadn't worked. He wasn't surprised, he didn't usually dabble in drugs. He was much more in to machinery. But he figured it was a more "intelligent" approach. One you might appreciate. But clearly, the damn thing didn't sway your heart. Or maybe he just didn't have enough...

But what else could he do? He knew he was strange. He always has been. His whole life, a lot of people were scared of him due to his innate strength. It was some weird genetics in his family, he never cared too much to think about it. But you weren't... You even seemed like you were certain you were above him. He loved it... You were so cute like that.

Maybe if he gets rid of that shithead once and for all... It would be so easy...

No no, he shouldn't think like that! He didn't want to prove people right about him. Especially not you... But it would be so good for you! To finally be free from that guy! He didn't know why you would stay with someone like that. Sure he didn't have much money and el fucko did, but what should that matter? He would be super rich someday, he knew it. But what would the point be without you?

You were everything.

He needs you.

Oh, hell. Was murder so bad if the victim was worthless? If it was for good reason? The only problem was getting caught... Something he would work around, surely.

Of course, every day after that, like every day before, he would ask for your heart at least once. He was just so... Ridiculous. Just because he buys you flowers and invents little trinkets just for you, just to make you smile if nothing else, doesn't mean he could win your heart! Not that, not his smile, his confidence, his positivity, his... Oh damn it! It didn't matter what good traits he had! Everyone... No one would approve of you being with him.

But the longer this went on, you began to wonder. Was it worth it to live like this? To let your life be dictated by what other people think? What was the worst that could happen anyway? What, they would look down on you the same way they look down on him? It... Wouldn't be nice. How does he stay so positive through all that? It makes no sense!

But... Your curiosity got the better of you one day. "Zeyuna!" You made a bee line for him. He was sure with that look on your face he was in for a lecture. But he didn't mind. It was always nice to hear your voice, even if you were reprimanding him for doing something stupid. "Zeyuna, you...! You... Are you free on Saturday?"

......... What.

"I want to go to dinner with you. If my many rejections still haven't deterred you, that is. Consider it a date."

Holy. Shit.

What.

He was frozen. What was he supposed to do now? Cry? You, his greatest dream, the one who'd rejected him so many times, actually asked him out? Was this an elaborate prank?! A date?! Had a he died and gone to heaven? Or maybe he was dreaming?

And you looked so cute. He hasn't seen you blushing before. He'd never forget this sight.

"Oh wow... YES!" He finally pulled himself together, picking you up in a tight hug and spinning you around. This couldn't be real! He didn't care how many people stared. You were his now! "I promise, swear on my old man's grave, this will be the greatest date you've ever been on!"

He'd do anything to make it so. And this worked out especially great for him! Gave him the perfect alibi for a certain little robot he's been working on to get rid of a certain piece of trash...

Gonna stop there before I go forever. Maybe not the most intense yandere I've ever written, but I'm sure it's alright.

Anyways, as for my little hiatus and some other ramble stuff... The truth is, I lost motivation. I graduated, and the best motivation I had for writing always seemed to come when I was avoiding work and stuff lol. And then I had nothing to avoid so I kind of rotted a bit. I never have too much motivation, and when I do, it's for really specific things. I have kind of a lot of hobbies. Plus I got a job, two technically but one was like seasonal. Go me making money, yay!

I can't promise I'm back. I'm wishy-washy like that if I'm being honest. But, I made this account to practice my writing and hopefully get feedback on my work since I actually want to become a legitimate author someday. And I figure if I'm going to have to enter the adult world, I might as well try to keep up with that. Maybe getting back into writing here will help my motivation to work on my longer books. I recently came up with a super good idea for a new one, I'm just struggling with starting it.

So anyways... That's about it I think. I've missed this, so hopefully I can stick to it this time. But like I said, no promises. Also, at this point, I'm thinking I probably won't get to my old requests. I feel too ashamed, and I'm sorry for that. And I don't know if I'll be taking any new requests any time soon. Because, you know, motivation is bad.

Also, I hope you all enjoyed this little intro to one of my ocs. He's part of this whole oc web I have going on, and is actually the parent of one of my main ocs. Technically his darling would be another oc of mine, my main ocs mother, but I wanted more people to be able to enjoy it, so I made it for a gn reader. hopefully that doesn't bite me in the butt if I continue writing for him, he'll date anybody if he likes them, male female or otherwise, but not everybody can have babies which ends up a kind of important thing.

Okay I'll stop now lol.