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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

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We're a couple of idiots, aren't we? (Charles Leclerc)

You had always been there to see Charles race and you wouldn't let your fight interfere with that

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not the best at writing angst pieces, but I hope this one is decent enough!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: family issues (alludes to the caregiver necessities), couple fight

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

It all began when you came home later than expected, the tiredness evident in your eyes as you paced your bag down on the sofa and allowed yourself to rest for a little, "Hey, amour", Charles whispered, testing to see if you were awake as he walked inside the living room, "hey", you said, patting the seat next to you.

Kissing your forehead, Charles sat next to you, "how was your day?", he asked, rubbing your thigh, "exhausting", you sighed, "and the next few are going to be even worse. I probably won't be home for dinner tomorrow anyway".

Charles felt uneasy, squirming around in his seat. You had been working a lot, your family also needed you on their side since your grandparents needed more assistance these days, so you and Charles haven't been able to spend that much time together. And wether it was the fact that you're used to being around eachother or the fact that the season was not going as expected, Charles felt like he hadn't spent enough time with the person he considered his safe and happy place.

"You have been very busy, I feel like I've hardly spent time with you", Charles noted, and maybe it was a seemingly honest comment that wasn't intended to be taken as harmful as you did.

"I know I've not been home, Charles, you think I don't feel that too? I know we haven't spent much time together just the two of us, but it's not been easy! Everyone needs me here, there and everywhere at the same time, and I also need time for me!", you let out.

Unexpectedly, your words also impacted Charles in a way you didn't think they would, "I know you've been busy, but we also need to spend time together, no? Or is our relationship not something we should invest time on? In a relationship, we both need eachother", he gulped. A weird and new feeling sat in his chest, like he was pressuring you and that he was burdening you.

"We do, but we also need to let eachother have some time, too!", you said, feeling anger, sadness, and overall tiredness from your recent days, "I'm going to bed", you mumbled, getting up and heading for your shared bedroom.

The energy you had left in your body was only enough to allow you to wash your face, noticing the dull and dark tone as you quickly rubbed some moisturiser on, grabbing your pyjamas to out them on and lay in bed, taking a painkiller for the growing headache.

When Charles finally go to the bedroom, he noticed you were already asleep on your side of the bed, carefully walking along the side so he could kiss your forehead before he too got ready for bed.

By the time the next morning arrived, Charles had ready left, and when you grabbed your phone, notifications from various WhatsApp groups popped up.

Mum + Dad

Can you go by grandma's house today? She was complaining of some pain and we can't remember if her meds box is sorted out or not.

Ferrari GP Weekend

Okay, just to make sure I'm not leaving anyone out: Y/N, you're not coming this weekend, right?

Since your family had been needing you to spend more time with them and at home, you had already said that you weren't sure you'd be joining them for that Grand Prix, and last night's fight settled the subject.

Texting both of the groups, you got up and got ready for the day, already knowing it was going to be a tough one.

You and Charles didn't fight a lot, at least not like this. Usually, you always found a way to talk about things and sort them out. So even this was new territory, not having talked about the subject and finding a common ground, because the situation you both left it at the night before was not the one to have.

Throughout the day, you hopefully texted Charles saying that you'd try to be home so you could talk to eachother before he left later on the evening, and while you intended to keep it, you had to text him again

To Charles

I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be home until nighttime. My grandma needs me and it's going to take a while.

Have a safe flight. Can you text me when you land, please? Love you ✨️

True to your word, you sat in your bedroom with the moon already shinning through the windows and showcasing perfectly Charles' bedside table with none of his rings, watch and bracelets where he usually put them when he was at the house.

"Why did I arrive to the paddock today only to find out that you are not joining me this weekend?", Francisca said over the phone, apparently not even bothering to wish you a good morning, even though it clearly wasn't one.

"Because I've been the busiest bee ever under the sun, and I also had a fight with Charles, and I need to sleep for three days straight to recover", you replied back, noticing the change in Pierre's girlfriend's tone.

"Oh", she added, "I'm sorry, it's just that you're always here and I haven't been able to talk to him properly yet, maybe it's a good thing I haven't yet", she admitted.

One thing you liked about her, was how honest she was with you, and you needed it right now, "do you think I should go? We left the subject hanging and it's not something light we can just solve over the phone. And besides, I've always been there for these races, and he deserves as much support as he can get", you asked, chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for her answer.

"I have no idea why you fought, nor do I want to know unless you feel comfortable in telling me, but I do know that you're made for eachother, so if your heart tells you to come to the race, you should", she advised and you could hear the smile on her voice, "besides, I love your company, so it's a win win".

From all the times you had previously travelled with Charles, you had become acquainted and a pro a listing what you needed for the race weekends, so packing was easy and quick: two changes of clothes for both colder and warmer weather, basic toiletries bag in a backpack with entertainment and snacks for the flight.

The early hours allowed you to get to the airport without any traffic and make it to the gate with enough time to spare so you could grab a coffee to go.

Francisca knew you were coming, and after having a conversation with your family, you explained to them how the whole situation was putting pressure not only on you but also on your relationship with Charles. As you expected, they were not aware of how the situation was on your side and sat down with you so you could find a better arrangement.

Arriving at the airport of destination, you quickly found the transport line that would be taking you to the closest stop near the paddock, gradually seeing fans get inside as the stops approached the track site.

You followed them in, wanting to go as unnoticed as possible as you walked along them.

"I just saw on Instagram that Charles had left his hotel a while ago, so he should be here any minute now", a young woman around your age commented with her friends, stopping by the benches you were sitting in. Turns out you were waiting for the same person after all.

"Is it okay if we sit here?", one of them asked kindly, "Oh, you're Y/N", one of the girls said.

Nodding, you pushed your backpack to rest near your legs, "of course you can sit", you smiled, still not used to the fact that fans often recognised your face.

"Thanks!", she scurried nervously, urging her friends to sit, seeing their surprised faces as they looked at you, "Also, I'm sorry, I'm sure this is weird for you, that I know your name and you don't know mine, I- we didn't expect to find you here", she apoligised, finally sitting down.

"It's okay, unless you're going to turn out to be come crazy stalker fan, I think we will be fine", you smiled, hoping they would catch the joke and relax a little.

"No no no!", they all said, smiling when you smiled back, "but, may I ask what you're doing here? I mean, don't you have an all access pass?", one of them wondered as she sat next to you.

"I'm surprising Charles, actually", you added, feeling like saying anything else would not only be violating yours and Charles' privacy, but also allowing the creation of rumours you wouldn't want, "I wasn't originally coming to see him race, but some things cleared up on my calendar so I thought I'd surprise him", you finished, seeing them smile, "do you come to watch races regularly?", you asked, changing the subject hopefully subtly enough that they wouldn't notice too much.

Conversation was flowing easily, really, they seemed like really nice girls and it never felt invasive, so the time you had to wait went by quickly, hearing people call your boyfriend's name.

You could notice his presence anywhere, that was a given. Wether it was his well trained torso that made spotting him even from his back, or his handsome face, it wasn't hard yo miss him even surrounded by fans who were wearing the same t-shirt as him.

"Let me stand around you so he won't notice me", you said, "with how enamoured he is of you, I'm sure it won't be long", one of the girls, named Lyla, you learned, spoke, wanting to see the scene unfold as he approached you.

"Hi!", Charles greeted, posing for the pictures while he signed the caps they had, not noticing your hand holding one of his own caps was in the mix.

"Charles! Can you sign this, please?", you asked, hoping you were loud enough, "I was not coming to see you race today, but I'm very happy I did", you almost yelled, thanking the fact that the other girls had helped you by keeping quiet until he realised you were there.

It was enough for Charles to recognise the voice. After all, he had been longing to hear it for the past couple of days.

"Y/N, you're here!", he called, handing Lyla the permanent marker before he hugged you, "I missed you so much, I'm sorry", he whispered on your ear before pulling back a little so he could look you in the eye, "you don't have a pass, do you?", he wondered, seeing you shake your head, "I'll see what I can do, but you're coming with me", he smiled, holding your hand in his and bidding goodbye to the group of girls after you all took a group picture.

The rush until you arrived in his driver's room didn't allow you to talk until you sat on the sofa after greeting everyone and thanking one of the team members for getting you a pass on such short notice.

"Do you think we can talk about it? I don't want to ruin the race by distracting you from it, but I don't think we should be here and not discuss it either", you brought the subject, looking up to see Charles push a chair and sit in front of you, "I want to apologise first", you said, "I never should have said what I said, especially the way I said it, I'm sorry", you apologised, "I never intended it in a way that would hurt you".

Charles grabbed your hands, lacing them in his and looking into your eyes, "I'm sorry, too. I think we should talk about it, too. I want this to be solved, I want us to be well", he admitted.

"My grandparents have been needing a bit more help, and my parents counted on me for it. And I feel like I haven't spent that much time with you, and I'm so sorry for it, but sometimes it just got too much. And I didn't want to burden you, you have your own things to worry about and this would be another thing. They're better now and this was probably a bad phase, but still", you explained.

Charles chuckled before he saw the confusion on your face, "no, I'm joking about this, amour. I'm glad they're better", he reasoned, "but I thought I was being a burden because I felt like I was clingy, like I needed you more than usual and that you had had enough. I didn't want to put more on your plate", he sighed.

Smiling at him, you moved your hand to caress his cheek, "you could never be too much, Charles. Sometimes I just need to deal with things on my own for a bit, even if there is help from someone else", you blushed.

"I know you need me to give you the space you need, that's why I didn't want to push you to talk about things, because as much as I want to craddle you in my arms forever and shield you away from the world's evil, I know you like to do things on your own, at least at first", he noted, earning your silent agreement, "but I'm here for you, always. I'm glad we worked that out", he smiled, pulling your face to his and kissing you deeply, only stopping when someone knocked on the door.

"I heard my favourite girl is back in the paddock, so I suggest you come out because I'm not feeling like I want to see whatever is going on there", your recognised Francisca's voice, getting up and opening the door to see Pierre by her side, "I told her she shouldn't interrupt you two, but she was very excited to know how the surprise went", he smiled.

"A very good surprise indeed, the best one ever", Charles said, pulling you in for one last kiss before he ventured out to the garage, a new feeling of confidence knowing you were there to watch him race.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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thankskenpenders · 4 months

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Happy new year, everyone! Welcome to 2024, the year that will mark the 10th anniversary of Thanks Ken Penders. I'd like to go over my plans for the blog for this year.

First of all: in the very near future, I'll have a post with my thoughts on Sonic Dream Team, and I'm sure I'll write one last Sonic Prime review once the final episodes drop on the 11th. I've also been sitting on an unfinished piece about the Sonic LEGO sets. I wanted this to be longer and more detailed piece that not only reviewed the sets but also went into the weird disconnect between homogenized image of Sonic the Brand and the actual fiction it's based off of, but it'll probably end up getting cut down a lot just so I can put something out. Let's just say I did a fun little thing with one of the sets.

Second: yes, I would like to return to regular TKP updates this year. As I've said many times, I wanted to do this in 2023, but I've been suffering from creative burnout after finishing SLARPG and have generally been unable to focus on any of my creative goals this past year. I'm hoping that this year will be better and I'll be able to get back into the swing of covering Archie Sonic issues. Even doing one issue every week or so would be vastly preferable to continuing the hiatus. I'm still only halfway done!! But aside from burnout, my other main hurdle is that I need to reread my own archive to refresh myself on all these things after nearly three years away. This will take some time.

The thing is, though, this year I'll have an extra incentive to go back through my previous writing and brush up on all things Archie Sonic. Because you see...

I've decided that I want to make a video essay about Penders. The comics, the copyright battle, The Lara-Su Chronicles, everything.

The why

I've thought about doing this before, but I never committed to the idea. I was too busy with gamedev, or I thought it'd end up being too long, or I figured that there were already enough videos on the subject, or I just lacked confidence in my ability to put together a video essay. So I told myself it wasn't meant to be, and let the multiple YouTubers who have cited me as a source on their own Penders videos fill that void.

Recently, though, a few things have happened that have convinced me it might be time. For one, YouTube video essays/media retrospectives/etc. are just getting longer and longer. When Quinton Reviews is out here doing 21 hours of videos on Sam & Cat, a subpar Nick sitcom that only lasted one season, I don't feel so crazy for wanting to make a video about several hundred comic books and two lawsuits that'd be at least an hour or two long lmao. Admittedly, I've also been self-conscious about doing a long video essay like this as a trans woman who has yet to do any vocal training. But these days I feel like I see a lot more transfem YouTubers who have done little to no vocal training, and that's given me more confidence on that front.

But the big one was Hbomberguy's recent plagiarism video. As I sat there watching it, I kept thinking about the time I found a CBR article that was just a crude 800 word summary of my two previous articles on Penders, published by a CBR writer who's put out over 4000 articles since 2019. If I've already been plagiarized before, and my writing is so frequently passed around as a go-to source on Archie Sonic drama, then I wouldn't be shocked if there were YouTubers out there straight up just plagiarizing me. I don't watch other peoples' videos on Archie Sonic, so I'd never know! So if people are just gonna paraphrase me when covering these topics anyway, why not take matters into my own hands and make what I would consider to be the definitive video on the subject? If hacks like James Somerton and iilluminaughtii can churn out these shitty video essays and people will still watch them, surely it can't be that impossible to make my own, right? (And also, uh, Hbomb literally told me I should make the video lol. If you're reading this, thanks for the encouragement.)

The what, how, and when

So here's the plan.

Part of this video essay will be an adaptation of my Medium article on the recurring themes of Ken's Archie Sonic run, with its content touched up and expanded upon. There were a few things I skimmed over in the article because I didn't want it to get too long, but again, people are out here watching ten hour videos about bad Nickelodeon sitcoms now. I can get away with elaborating a little more. I can add a few paragraphs talking about the Chaos Knuckles arc, or throw in a little more historical context I've discovered in the years since.

After covering the comics, the back half(-ish?) of the video will be dedicated to the copyright battles and their ensuing controversies, trying to give an accurate picture of what actually went down, the sheer scale of how bad Archie fucked up, and what our takeaways should be. This will have some similarities to my New York Magazine article on the subject, but I'll be rewriting it from scratch. I REALLY had to keep things short for that article because I was already way over the expected word count, and my tone was a little more straight-laced than normal because I was trying to keep things Professional. I can riff more and insert more of my own opinions this time, like I normally would.

I'll inevitably have to touch on some of Ken's Bad Tweets when discussing things that have happened after the lawsuits, but I don't want the video to just devolve into a list of times people got mad at him on Twitter, so I'm gonna try to keep that to a minimum in favor of focusing on his actual work. Things like the Scourge the Speed Demon incident and his continued statements on certain characters' copyright statuses probably warrant mentioning, though. And finally, assuming that the book really does come out this summer, I would like the grand finale of the video to be about those first couple chapters of The Lara-Su Chronicles.

I don't currently know when this video will get done, but it'll probably be in the back half of the year, especially with me waiting for the book to either drop or get delayed yet again. But I've actually already started writing a bit of the script, and will keep chipping away at it for a while.

So, uh, yeah, look forward to that? Wish me luck?

#tkp post

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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

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Hello :) I've recently found your blog and read everything AT LEAST thrice. I adore your writing <3 May I request a one-short, Azriel and Reader being Wayyy too into PDA, like pausing training to cuddle standing up while everyone else is training in front of them, and Azriel is kissing up her neck n all.

Reader sitting in his lap during dinner with the inner circle while they feed each other, giggling, whispering sweet nothings, stealing kisses with each other in front of everyone and Azriel has a wing around her to keep her warm.

Like they just have to be touching each other all the time.

Also, Cass is fake-gagging at them while he is training others. And Rhys is traumatized cause they didn't put their mental shield up, and he can hear all the *dirty* thoughts they are having for each other. Those thoughts are loud as hell and he is basically like, "Really? In front of my dinner?" While side-eyeing them through dinner. That was a long one heh. Fingers crossed I sparked an idea for you and it wasn't just me rambling

Honeymoon phase.

Azriel x f!Reader.

Warnings; suggestive

Masterlist

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you had in mind! Please let me know if you want me to rewrite it.

“Lift your elbow” Azriel ordered and ducked when you threw a punch.

You were on the roof of the house of wind training with your mate while Cassian was training the Valkyries on the other side.

“That’s it! Very well” he praised you.

You smiled proudly and he engulfed you in his arms. You pressed your cheek on his chest and rubbed his back as he held you. Your mate sighed and leaned down and started kissing your neck making you leave a small moan.

“Oh come on we are training” Cassian exclaimed and made a gagging noise.

“Sorry Cassie” you shouted and pushed your mate away but quickly grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him for a last sloppy kiss.

You and Azriel met 70 years ago so the mating bond wasn’t new, but you never left the honeymoon phase. You couldn’t stay away from each other, if you could become one you probably would.

You finished training and left hand in hand making Cassian snort. After bathing together, you enjoyed your lunch and went to the river house, Azriel had to brief Rhysand on some mission, and you wanted to hang out with Feyre and Mor.

“Have fun” he told you and captured your lips with his own before climbing up the stairs that led to Rhysand’s office.

“I can’t get used to this side of him” Mor spoke from behind you.

“He is the sweetest” you smiled and took a seat on the big couch.

“He is desperately in love” Feyre said and giggled.

“Girl, trust me when I say that this man looked like he was going to murder everyone all the time. I don’t think that I ever saw him smile before he met y/n.” Mor exclaimed.

You tried to hide your grin but failed miserably making Feyre and Mor burst into laughter.

“And let’s not get started on the PDA” Mor shook her head.

“Enough! Let’s talk about something else.” You whined and the girls began teasing you even more.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feyre was talking about her new painting when a pair of hands covered your eyes, the spicy yet sweet scent of your mate clouded your senses and you shuddered.

“Hey love” you giggled, and he removed his hands.

“Hey” he grinned and leaned down to kiss you.

“Who are you and what did you do to Azriel?” Mor shouted and Azriel gave her a vulgar gesture.

“See? He wouldn’t even acknowledge me before” she threw her hands in the air.

You shook your head and got up. “See you at dinner”.

Your mate placed his hand on your waist and guided you outside.

You spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed enjoying each other’s company. Days like this were rare, most of the time Azriel was away because of his missions and you helped Madja at her infirmary, so when you had free time you made sure to spend every second together.

“We have to get ready for dinner” you whispered and tried to push him off you.

“We still have a few minutes” he mumbled and kissed your naked chest before going further down.

“We will be late” you hummed.

“Let me just have a taste” he whined.

“I will let you do anything you want when we come back” you cupped his jaw and pulled him up giving him a soft kiss.

“Anything?” he quirked a brow.

“Anything” you nodded, and he jumped out of bed.

“Let’s go” he said and opened the closet to find an outfit for dinner making you laugh and shake your head.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You walked in the dining room and Cassian’s eyes flashed with mischief.

“What?” you asked, and he sat on your usual seat next to Azriel’s ,leaving his own on the other side of the table free.

Azriel rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, leading you to his seat and pulling you on his lap and draping a protective wing around you.

“Oh no” Cassian mumbled and got up. Azriel’s shadows grabbed the empty chair and removed it from the room.

“I guess you have to sit next to us” your mate smiled at the warlord who paled.

Everyone looked at Cassian and burst into laughter knowing that soon enough you two would start touching each other and he would have to eat with the scent of your arousal.

Azriel was lost deep in his conversation with Rhys and you feared that his food would get cold so you grabbed his fork and stabbed a piece of steak.

“Here baby” you said and brought it to his lips.

“Thank you” he smiled and gave you a quick kiss before eating.

You watched his full lips and the way his jaw flexed as he chewed and almost moaned. Azriel noticed and smirked before moving his hand to rest it on your thigh and rub small circles. You kept feeding him and kissing him between bites. Every time you stared at his face while he ate his hand moved higher making you squirm on his lap and ground on his bulge. He quickly covered the moan that escaped with a cough and Cassian almost spat his wine.

Your arousal was evident and as both of you stripped each other with your eyes Rhysand gagged.

“Are you serious? Here?” he groaned and grabbed his head.

You stared at him wide-eyed and Azriel chuckled.

“I’m so happy for your creative sex life but please stop thinking about it on my dinner table” he whined, and Feyre caressed his arm.

You stopped grinding your hips and focused on your food before Azriel leaned forward and whispered in your ear.

“So anything huh?”

Rhysand’s eyes snapped to you and Cassian tensed.

“Yes my love” you whispered back and kissed his neck making Rhys scoff.

Azriel kissed your shoulder and pushed you off him before getting up too.

“Well next time don’t get offended if we don’t join you for dinner.” He said and slapped your ass as you hurried to your room.

“If you don’t want to hear them having sex I think we should move to the river house” Cassian mumbled and everyone jumped on their feet.

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scamarchive · 1 year

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Red Flags: How to Identify a Tumblr Scam (Pet Edition)

Has someone sent you a message requesting that you boost their sick pet fundraiser? Have you seen someone reblog a post like that? It could be a scam.

Check out this list of red flags before you boost or donate!

🚩 Red flag #1: Someone you don't know has sent you an ask out of nowhere, requesting that you boost their fundraiser

Scammers like to cover as much ground as possible. To do this, they find completely random, unrelated people through the trending and popular posts. If you reblog a trending or popular post and receive an ask soon afterwards, that's probably how they came across your blog!

Example: you watch a new release movie like 'Puss in Boots', and you reblog some trending fanart. You receive an ask about a fundraiser a few days later.

Example 2: you like some fanart of characters from the recent 'The Last of Us' episode, which is trending on tumblr. You receive an ask about a fundraiser that night.

Example 3: you reblog some cottagecore photography or another post that contains a trending aesthetic. Hours later, you receive an ask about a fundraiser.

🚩 Red flag #2: They tell you to answer their ask privately

Scammers love spamming the same copy-pasted ask to hundreds of people! They also love to reuse asks from previous scams. To reduce how many people notice the similarities between their current asks and asks from previous scams, they'll tell you to answer privately, to stop more evidence from getting out there. Also consider: if someone really has a sick pet, they should want as much exposure as they can get! Telling someone not to publish their ask seems counterintuitive, unless they have an ulterior motive.. Which a scammer will definitely have.

Knowing these red flags, check out the six scam asks below. What do they have in common?

🚩 Red flag #3: Comments are turned off in the fundraising post, or there are removed comments

Scammers preemptively turn off comments in their posts so people can't call attention to the fact they're scams. People who have real fundraisers, on the other hand, are usually glad to talk to you in the comments! Sometimes, scammers let people make comments, but there may be a message that 'some comments have been deleted or removed'. These were usually warnings from people who realized it was a scam.

🚩 Red flag #4: Their ask box is closed

Scammers preemptively turn off their ask box because they can't provide proof that the pets and vet bills belong to them. They also want to avoid angry messages from people who realize they're a scammer.

🚩 Red flag #5: They ask you to send money through paypal's 'friends and family'

On paypal, you can send strangers funds using 'goods and services', or 'friends and family'. Scammers will often ask you to send through 'friends and family' because you have very little protection and you'll have a hard time getting your money back! Scammers like to spin it as being 'faster', and they'll try to appeal to your emotions to create a sense of urgency and guilt, convincing you to send money using that option.

🚩 Red flag #6: Their posts have no tags. Their posts are all reblogs of trending posts. They don't seem to be reblogging consistently from any specific blogs

Scammers make a fresh blog for every new scam. They want to set up their blogs as fast as possible, so they cut corners, meaning that aside from their fundraising post, all their posts will be reblogs, and they won't usually have tags. The reblogs will often be of trending, easy-to-find tumblr posts! In most cases, scammers reblog posts from as many different blogs as they can, unlike the typical tumblr user who usually reblogs from select people they follow, over and over.

🚩 Red flag #7: They only have ~40 posts on their blog

Scammers know that most people won't spend more than a moment scrolling through a blog to verify its age, so they'll only populate their blogs with just enough posts to convince someone who only scrolls for a short time. Usually, the posts are all made within a few hours at most. If a blog is run by a scammer, usually you can scroll through all the posts within five minutes.

Remember: scammers want you to think 'eh, good enough'! If you're scrolling through a blog and you start to think this, scroll for another minute or two!

If you're on desktop, you can quickly get to the end of someone's posts by tapping the 'end' or 'page down' keys.

🚩 Red flag #8: Most of their posts are reblogged directly from the original poster

Scammers will usually reblog posts directly from the person who originally posted them, unlike most tumblr users, who tend to see posts reblogged by their friends and reblog them from those friends instead.

🚩 Red flag #9: Most of their posts have very high note counts

This is another indication they were fabricating their blog activity. It's way easier to find super popular posts than smaller ones! This is not a rule, most scam blogs will have posts with ~40 notes mixed in with posts with ~40k notes.

🚩 Red flag #10: The timestamp of the oldest post is only a few days old

Most scam blogs don't last more than a week before tumblr deletes em. Once you've scrolled to the end of the blog, check the timestamp of the oldest post by clicking on the 'meatball' (three dots) icon in the corner of it. If that post is only a few days old, or if it's so new that you don't even see a date (only a time), the blog is probably run by a scammer!

🚩 Red flag #11: The blog is dash-only

Scammers disable their blog's main theme so people can't see their archive and instantly see how new all their posts are. They want you to have to scroll, then get tired of scrolling (or say 'good enough'), so you never reach the end of their very sparse posts and realize it's a fabricated blog.

🚩 Red flag #12: The reblog notes have warnings that say 'this is a scam'

When people reblog a scam post and realize it's a scam, they'll often edit the post to warn people who see it in the future. You can look for these warnings by checking the 'comments and replies' reblogs, and the 'comments only' reblogs! Scammers count on people to reblog instinctively and not check these notes.

🚩 Red flag #13: You check the 'other reblogs' tab and notice that many unrelated users reblogged the post directly from the original url

This indicates the person sent copy-pasted asks to many unrelated people (this ties into red flag #1 and #2!). An unknown blog shouldn't have this many direct reblogs for their post, especially if the post and blog itself is super new.

🚩 Red flag #14: You check out their url tag at tumblr.com/tagged/URLHERE and see posts warning that they're a scammer

Sometimes, upon searching for the person's url (you can do this by going to tumblr.com/tagged/URLHERE), you'll see a bunch of people who have outed the scammer. Keep in mind even if you don't see any warnings, it doesn't necessarily mean the person isn't a scammer! Sometimes a blog is just too new for anyone to have posted about it yet.

🚩 Red flag #15: The post uses strong emotional buzzwords and language

Scammers like to use a post template that involves many colourful emojis, and phrases like 'my poor (pet name)!', 'he deserves to live!', and 'help us save a (cat/dog/etc)!' to appeal to emotion and make people feel empowered to help. This is so someone will share the post as quickly as possible, and not spend as much time carefully vetting the blog. The language is designed to make people feel guilty if they don't share. Not all posts containing this language are scams, but scammers employ it a lot because it's super effective at getting results!

🚩 Red flag #16: They don't have established history with anyone on tumblr

If nobody knows who the person is, chances are it's a scam. There's no shame in asking around to see if people recognize the blog! Make sure if someone comes forward to confirm, that their blog is older and they're well known in the community. Scammers don't really go through the hassle of astroturfing real interactions with real people before making their scam posts.

🚩 Red flag #17: The currency on the vet bill doesn't match the currency of the country that appears when you hover over the paypal link

This is a big one! For example, imagine there's a post with a photo of a vet bill. You notice the costs are all in US dollars ($). Next you check out the paypal link at the bottom of the post by hovering over it with your cursor (or pressing and holding with your finger, if you're on mobile).

When you do this, in the bottom corner of your screen (or in a popup if you're on mobile), you see the url attached to that paypal link. This url reveals the paypal user's country using a short abbreviation! In the example below, you can see 'PH', which stands for 'Philippines':

Therefore, the post in this example is almost certainly a scam, because the currency in the Philippines is pesos (₱), not USD ($).

You can also look carefully at the vet bill to find the location of that vet. In this example, the vet is located in Richmond Virginia, US. That is a red flag too because again, the paypal recipient is located in the Philippines!

🚩 Red flag #18: They have both a venmo and a paypal link, but the names aren't the same

Scammers make sock puppet accounts for venmo and paypal, and they'll often reuse those accounts between scams! Because of this, their links won't have identical names. For instance, in the example scam above, their paypal said 'aatuck1', but their venmo said 'evan-naeher'. This is probably because they made a new paypal to match the name on the vet bill they stole, but they still had a working venmo they wanted to reuse.

Other handy things to remember:

Just because someone proves they aren't a bot, it doesn't mean they aren't a scammer!

Many scammers do manually send asks to people, do reply to people who ask questions (without giving any actual verification), and even block people who reveal them to be scammers. Many scammers have been confirmed to have 'waking hours' and 'sleeping hours'.

💡 When in doubt, ask the person to write some words of your choice on a sheet of paper, put it next to the animal, and send a picture of it to you. 💡

If the person actually owns the pet, this will be easy for them. If they can't produce a picture, it's a scammer. Remember: if someone gives an excuse for why they can't send a pic, stay skeptical! Excuses are not a substitute for proof.

When in doubt, answer their ask firmly and skeptically.

This is the 'tough love' version of the above approach!! If someone sends you an ask, say firmly that their blog 'looks suspicious', and that you aren't comfortable sharing or donating. Often, scammers will block you as soon as you say this, because they know they can't provide any verification (unlike people with real fundraisers, who will be happy to give it) and because you've given them the impression you're tough on scammers and not an easy sell, they won't even try to convince you! Now if they don't block you? Awesome- now's the time to ask them for the sheet of paper photo.

Scammers use stolen, but legitimate, photographs of pets and vet bills!

The bills are real, the pictures of pets are real. But they're stolen from real fundraisers that other people made on facebook, gofundme, etc. Because of this, you can't rely on a vet bill picture alone to tell if something is a scam! You need to look at the context of the entire post, and check for red flags in the person's blog, etc. That's where things fall apart!

You won't always find a source for pet pictures if you reverse-image search them!

Scammers often take pictures from facebook and other websites that are behind login walls, and these sources won't show up on google. If you reverse-search a picture and nothing shows up, remember to still check for other red flags!

Lastly: If you want to report a scam, you can select 'report something else' > 'unlawful uses or content' > 'phishing'.

Just remember these red flags, or save em for reference, and you'll be a scam detective in no time!

Reposted with permission from @coulsonlives.

#scam #scam alert #psa #mutual aid #fundraiser #reference

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eyelessfaces · 2 months

Text

he'll be gone in the morning

llewyn davis x reader

summary: you wish he would stay. he never does.

alternatively, two times llewyn is gone when you wake up, one time he's not yet.

warnings: there's honestly more smut than plot lol this was an excuse to write llewyn smut; unprotected piv sex (this man never learns), tipsy sex where both parts consent and are aware of what's happening, creampie, oral f receiving, praise kink, both parts are desperate, plot is based on angst, fear of abandonment i guess?, self doubt from both parts, a bit of self sabotaging from llewyn because is it really an oscar isaac character if he's not self destructive

tags: friends to ??lovers I guess, f!reader, unspoken feelings, reader has hair that's long enough to brush away from her face, fluff, yearning

word count: 2.8k

I haven't been sane about llewyn for the past few days. again. it usually takes me weeks to write smut because it makes me go insane but I wrote this in like eight hours so...... yeah. not sane about this man at all.

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog @eyelessupdates

It’s the same as always; he slept there last night, on your worn out couch, too old for him not to get a sore back after a whole night on it. You remember looking back at him as he tucked a pillow behind his head, a soft smile over his lips when he looked over at you before you turned the light off and reluctantly disappeared through the hallway to go to your room, by yourself.

He’s gone now, his own blanket you had gifted him on his most recent birthday messily folded and put back where it usually rests. If it wasn’t for the unfinished cup of coffee and the ashtray gathering a few cigarette butts sitting over your coffee table, it would be like he was never there in the first place.

He almost always disappears before you can join him and tell him good morning, always escapes before you get the opportunity to ask him to stay for one more night, to get him to be sure he has a place to stay at the end of the day.

He never writes notes anymore the way he used to the first few times you let him crash at your place, like he’s now used to your kindness; you don’t mind, you’re glad he feels comfortable staying here to the point where he doesn’t have to apologize when he knocks at your door anymore.

You don’t mind, it’s the whole opposite actually; you just wished he would stay.

—

Your cheeks are hot from the booze, or maybe – no, most definitely – from Llewyn’s mouth on your neck.

His beard is softly tickling your sensitive skin as he kisses and nips at it, forcing a – treacherous – almost silent whimper out of your mouth at the same time you sink your head into the pillows to grant him more access. It makes him laugh, it fucking makes him laugh smugly to see how he’s turning you into putty in his hands. Your hand instinctively buries in his hair to get a grasp onto something, and he gets a taste of his own little game when you softly tug on his thick curls and earn a small moan from him. Good to know.

Your body only feels warmer when his hands roam along the sides of it, slowly but surely stripping you of your layers until your top half is completely bare as he continues his assault over your neck, biting and sucking on it, making sure there will be visible proof that he went there for the guys staring at you too intensely at the bar to see.

Then his mouth trails down, again and again. He takes his precious time kissing your collarbone, the top of each breast, from your sternum down to your stomach. You cup the back of his neck as his curls softly tickle your skin and as he brings a special attention to your lower stomach, not giving in what he knows you need, teasing as his fingers press onto your hips before they eventually curl into the hem of your underwear as he continues leaving small, warm kisses to your stomach, sliding the piece of clothing off your hips and down your legs before he tosses it away.

When he finally moves and spreads your legs apart, it’s not to slide his warm tongue over your cunt like you would expect or hope for, it’s to gently kiss your left thigh and run his hand over your skin burning in the feverish heat of anticipation; the prickle of his beard softly teases the ticklish inside of your thigh, his warm mouth just inches away from where you truly want him, the sensations increased tenfold by the booze. Each trail of his hands and mouth leaves you more sensitive, head spinning already when he’s not even giving you what he knows you truly want from him yet.

When his mouth shifts again, it’s to give your other thigh the same treatment; soft nibbles while his hand gently caresses your warm skin before he runs the tip of his nose from the inside of your thigh up to your knee, looking back up at you desperately waiting for him to do anything concrete.

“Llewyn please” you whine needily, throwing your head back into the cushions of your bed as he chuckles and slowly makes his way down to the inside of your thigh again, hot breath teasingly fanning there.

“Tell me what you need, angel” he demands, murmuring close to where you want him as his thumb softly brushes your bare thigh. His eyes dart back to you, raising an eyebrow when you only whine his name as a response.

“You” you slur out, fingers wrapping around his forearm to get something to hold onto. His warm, half lidded eyes make something flutter inside your stomach, his mouth and hot breath close to your soaking slit making your breath halt. “Please”

You softly gasp as both of his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass, firmly grabbing onto it to pull your body closer towards him, no longer intent on teasing you or making you wait; he'd make you beg longer if he wasn't so damn eager to taste you.

He dives in and presses his flattened tongue against your folds, and you feel the same way you did earlier when you got to your feet after a few drinks; your head spins, your lower stomach burns just the way it did when drinking that whiskey.

It's a bit messy, a bit rushed and maybe even desperate but not even close to being unpleasant as his tongue laps at your slit, beard harshly rubbing against your sensitive skin.

He hums to himself as his lips close around your clit, sucking and pulling weak moans out of you, looking up at your through half lidded eyes when his middle finger slowly and carefully pushes inside your slick channel, his free hand stroking along your thigh caging his head.

He’d praise you more if his mouth wasn’t so damn busy, if your reactions weren’t so damn attractive as he mouthed at you pussy and wouldn't dare stopping, because you look so fucking pretty like this. Disheveled, high on pleasure for him, twitching under his tongue and clenching around the finger inside you.

His ring finger is quick to join alongside the other, stroking your tight walls until he meets the spot that makes your back arch and your breath run short.

He’s barely satisfied until he makes you come on his mouth and fingers twice, until his name and your weak moans and whines are all that can come out of your mouth, until your legs are shaking around his head, until you have to ask him to ease up.

Your chest heaves heavily, your whole body burning and seeming to melt into the mattress from the couple orgasms Llewyn just gave you. You smile dazedly when you look back down at him in between your legs, his cheek mushed against your thigh, his eyes closing contentedly when you run your fingers through his dark locks.

You feel your heart thump hard inside your chest again when he crawls back up to you, his mouth pressing against yours before it opens to let his tongue slip inside.

Your movements are hurried as you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, impatiently blindly progressively getting it open before you’re finally able to slide it off his shoulders.

You hum a soft, reluctant groan into his mouth when you realize he’s wearing an undershirt, meaning that you’ll have to pull apart from his mouth to get it off. He takes care of the task, stripping himself off the tshirt before throwing it across the room, and quickly links your mouths again when he hovers over you, letting out a deep groan when you cup and feel him through his pants.

You can't help but smile into the kiss when he chases your touch, all but humping your hand before you pull it away to undo his pants, his tongue desperately licking into your mouth when he hurriedly – and a bit messily – strips himself naked. You’re pulled away from his mouth as he looks down when your hand closes around him and pumps his cock, his breath halting, hips thrusting to meet your movements.

Your leg snakes behind him to pull him closer, your chest burning again with anticipation when he takes his cock in hand and aligns with your entrance. You both let out a synchronized groan as he carefully pushes inside, easily sliding in, your sensitive channel slick from your previous orgasms, but still tight around him.

He’s gentle as he starts to thrust in, hand firmly planted besides your head, teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration. His vision sways from the alcohol; it was way less noticeable when he had his face in between your legs, when he didn’t have to use the rest of his body, when he didn’t have to rely on balance.

His eyes close when your hand cups his cheek, fingers softly scratching his beard while you whisper praises he’s far too gone to truly take into account, too lost in the feeling of your cunt softly contracting around him. His thrusts grow more and more desperate as he goes, less precise, the muscles of his thighs twitching as the familiar feeling quickly starts to gather inside his stomach, exhaling moans like laying in bed with you is a one time opportunity, like it’s the last time he’s ever gonna do this.

“Not gonna last long,” he mumbles dazedly between breaths before you quickly assure him that it’s okay, your hand cupping the back of his neck to pull his face close to yours again.

His tongue mingles with yours in a heated, desperate kiss before he pulls away and sinks his head against your shoulder, huffing out a loud breath when he feels himself getting close, trying not to tip over the edge before you do.

“Come on dove, come on” he begs you, his warm breath fanning over your neck when one of his hands gently holds onto your waist.

He feels like a lucky bastard that you come just seconds before he does; you let a soft cry out as your last orgasm hits you, this one softer than the two previous ones, feeling like a warmth washing through you as Llewyn stills when he reaches his end and spills inside you, eyes rolling back as a soft groan escapes his lips.

His body crumbles over yours as he lets out a loud sigh, pressing small kisses to your cheek, fingers softly running along your arm.

You want to give the affection back to him, want to kiss him until he's out of breath, but all your body does is close your eyes; Llewyn has drawn all the energy out of you, he has loved you until you became numb.

You instinctively know it's early in the morning when your mind awakes, an unpleasant heaviness clouding your head from the alcohol, and a soft ache between your thighs. You hum softly in your still half asleep state, turning around and changing positions to get more comfortable, reaching for the man you spent the night with, hoping you could snuggle to him.

Your eyes are still shut as you reach for Llewyn, your hand only passing along the ruffles and creases of the fitted sheets of your bed.

Your eyes eventually open when you know you have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, he’s fucking gone again.

—

You don’t know how it has happened again when you only wanted to address the issue at first, still mad at him when he knocked and when you opened the door, still mad that he had left like you were just a meaningless one night stand the other night, someone he would never see or hear about again.

But then he seemed so exhausted, so out of it and so crushed by every responsibility resting over his shoulders that you figured it would be better to bother him with the question later instead of overburdening him now.

Then things slipped, again. So fast and so casually at once, like it was simultaneously the right and wrong thing to do.

You don’t know why he’s in your bed again, but maybe on your part you do, because you will have to one day just admit that you love him.

You can’t help but feel like you’re missing something regarding him. Why is he in your bed again, sober, head resting over your chest and arms tightly wrapped around your waist if it was all the alcohol’s fault that you stepped further into your relationship the other night? Why is he in your bed again if he regretted it last time and felt he had to run away, again?

You swallow thickly as those questions overwhelmingly cloud your mind, trying to chase them away when you continue to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft, long curls. It’d be a damn mood breaker to trap him into questions like while you’re still enjoying your respective post-high haze, and you would pass as too fucking ungrateful after the things you have just done, but you have to know why he acts like this, why he runs away but somehow always comes back.

“Llewyn,” his name weakly comes out of your mouth, your fingers stopping in their trail. You can hear your own breathing when you await his response, which eventually never comes.

He's sound asleep; it'll wait, again.

—

You had almost forgotten Llewyn had been there last night when you wake up to the sound of ruffling around the bedroom.

The only source of light in your room is the full moon light seeping through your window, faint but present enough to make you aware of your surroundings.

Llewyn is standing on the other side of the room, gathering his clothes scattered around the room that you so carelessly threw aside when in a hurry last night.

“What’re you doing” you mumble sleepily as you roll over his side of the bed, arm extending as if to reach for him. He looks over at you like a deer caught in headlights, stopping as his pants are already halfway slid up his thighs.

“I uh, I have to head out” he replies in a low mutter as he resumes his action, approaching and shoving in his pocket the pack of cigarettes laying on the bedside table.

“Don’t,” his gaze darts back at you as you speak, stopping in his movements, in fear that he might have heard it wrong. “Stay” you demand, almost beg as you look up at him, almost all ready to go and leave you hanging like always. He exhales softly and sits down over the edge of the bed, hand reaching out to you to brush your hair back from your face. “Please.” you add, tiredly blinking.

“Okay.” he simply declares in a soft whisper, fingers gently tracing your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch, sleep still holding a tight grasp over you.

“Why do you keep leaving” you monotonically, weakly ask, your tone successfully translating the hurt you feel. “All the time”

He halts and pulls away from you, like your reproach suddenly makes him undeserving of touching you. He takes some time before answering, and you're almost lulled back to sleep before the sound of his voice brings you back to reality and makes you open your eyes again. “I don't want you to think I'm doing all this just for a bed to sleep in” he explains, lips pinching skeptically.

You huff out softly, nuzzling against your arm. “It makes me think you're doing this just for a vagina to stick your dick in, Llewyn.”

“Shit, yeah. I'm sorry” he scoffs and sighs, looking out the window in reflection before looking back at you. “It's just– It's the whole opposite. I care about you. I don't wanna fuck this up” he declares, his hand coming to rest over your extended arm. “I didn't start right, I know. I’m sorry angel.” he pauses, softly chewing on his bottom lip. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

You exhale, somehow ironically relieved that it's only this, that you're not the main part of the problem, that he actually wants you as much as you do. Your stomach flutters at the feeling of his thumb softly rubbing your bare skin, and you weakly but softly smile when you finally look back up at him.

“I only ever wanted you to stay” you mutter, hand reaching to cover his over your arm.

He tiredly smiles back at you, at last erasing the conflicted frown over his face.

“I only ever wanted to stay.”

—

SUPPORT YOUR FANFICS WRITERS, REBLOG, LEAVE A COMMENT, IT IS WHAT KEEPS US GOING!!!!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @spxctorsslxt @dowbastan

#llewyn davis #llewyn davis x reader #inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis smut #moon knight #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #sorry for the tags it's just to reach more people^^#oscar isaac

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vampyrsm · 5 months

Text

‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | YOMI

‣‣ Synopsis: Our Tale continues with the captured Zen'in diving into her very own personal version of Yomi; The Land of the Dead. Here she will face death, will she be strong enough to conquer it? Or will she simply be forced to her knees and succumb to what Fate has decided for her?

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 7.5k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, death, cursed spirits, fighting scenes, blood and gore, cursed energy usage.

Darkness. Infinite and finite. Inky blackness that you could sink your fingers into and find yourself lost at sea, floating, lost—forever. It moves and bends around you, welcomes you with icy cold fingers that grasp at your arms. An inescapable embrace of none other than Death herself.

You couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, if you had even lifted your arm in the first place. You couldn’t feel a thing either. Your back felt as if it were simultaneously on fire and pressed against ice, it burned in more ways than one. The fall had done more damage than you’d expected, you could feel the sticky blood that had dried down the side of your face; no doubt still minutely trickling from the gash somewhere in your hairline.

A fall like that would’ve killed anyone, no doubt. Sugawara had spoken to you briefly before he had shoved you down into that all-consuming darkness, he spoke as if you were to be faced with Death here. Did he expect the fall to kill you or something else?

Something shifts in the darkness, the sound of flesh dragging along the stone. You don’t make a sound, nor do you move an inch when that sound continues to grow louder and more frequent. Multiple things lingered in the dark down here, things that you had only become intimately to know recently.

You could taste their foul energy on the back of your tongue; tainted and impure. It belonged to none other than a curse, and here you are, surrounded by multiple curses that had waited for you to stir awake before they inevitably tore you apart.

The neck brace at your throat no longer burned, your cursed energy unleashed and bubbling at the tips of your fingers. Yet you knew even with the return of your cursed energy, you could not use it to escape here. Something at the back of your mind hissed at the talisman that was pressed into the walls of the pit you had been thrown into.

Scraping claws and flesh grow closer and closer until the darkness becomes tangible, misfigured shadowed figures that loom over you. This close you could scent them, death and rot, mud and rain. These weren’t your ordinary curses, because besides the obvious smell of decay — you could also smell a type of dampness you had come to recognise in the last few days locked away.

These were all once victims of the Shogun too. Cursed and transformed into the very thing he sought to vanquish, they were kept here to punish those who openly defied the Shogun.

His own men. Turned into nothing but mindless creatures that gargled when they opened their horrendous mouths, or harboured multiple eyes that would forever be witness to the atrocity they had turned into.

You’d kill him. You’d make him suffer for what he did and what he continued to do. Perhaps he too should be cursed upon his death, to be turned into something so weak in comparison to the title of Shogun. But first, you had to stop the slaughter that was about to occur.

You find the strength to finally lift your arm, and that coiling familiar feeling in your gut purrs at the idea of being used to extract punishment on something as lowly as a cursed spirit. The gangly creature that had dared to come close to you screeches at the pain, arching backwards and stumbling into what must be more curses as they all begin to scramble.

Their noises, the voices of the damned repeating over and over their last words. It’s enough of a distraction to hurl yourself up off of the floor, the pain you had once felt eradicated as quickly as it had appeared. Your cuts and bruises disappear into nothing, the scars however remain. You wish to hold onto them, a reminder you told yourself—to kill those who defiled your body.

Another swipe of your arm has their screeches choked in blood, the scent of a rotting corpse is enough to make your stomach churn. But it’s soon washed away by the taste of your imminent victory, to finally win at something, to succeed in fighting your way out instead of rotting in the corner of a damp dark cell. It was addicting.

Bodies slump and crumble to the floor in nothing but a heap of slowly decomposing flesh, bodies that soon stop their high-pitched gurgling screams. Those who still live turn their attention back to the source of their agony; you. They come at you in waves, crawling from their god-forsaken corners and with such little cursed energy in comparison to your own—they throw themselves at you.

A wet hand grasps at your throat, sinking cracked nails into the flesh on either side of the useless collar at your throat. The pain doesn’t bother you anymore, you can’t feel the blood that it draws you from.

That curling darkness boils up from deep within, it scratches at the surface with sharpened claws and glistening teeth—let go, it bellows, until you too can feel your mouth opening to bare your newfound fangs; sharpened canines that were made for fighting, for surviving.

The flesh you bite into isn’t that of the same calibre of human, it’s not as rich or candescent. It’s foul, rotted, it smells of something awful. Yet you continue to bite at the foolish cursed spirit who tried to choke you, to suppress you further in a world that has tried to snuff you from existence from the very start.

The spirit grasped between your teeth screams something that sounds too far from a human, yet it still satisfies that part of your mind that bows to that violent darkness within.

You bite until it lets go, and then do you plant your hand on the chest of the mangled beast. Its body is deformed, flesh and bone curled around what was once the man's body armour. It vanishes in the next breath, nothing but a heap of meat on the floor to be forgotten.

There’s no pause between the kill and another when something from the darkness lunges at you, it comes naturally to only raise two fingers in that direction before they’re blown back into nothing but misted blood and goop. Something deep within grabs at you, it clings to your very being and sinks its claws into you further than it ever had before.

Don’t worry, it whispers, soon you will be found.

“That’s enough.” A voice, coherent and clear, calls out from the darkness. It chills the boiling violence within until it’s nothing but a frozen chasm in your soul. Your hand still raised yet unmoving takes the blow you should’ve stopped, you feel the flesh and bone snap under the weight of a mouth with far too many teeth.

They raze through your flesh until you feel your weight shift, unbalanced and too light. Your blood is scorching against your chilled skin, and yet you still do not move. Arm missing and heart racing erratically, you stare into the darkness when steps grow closer and closer.

“I said, that is enough.” The voice scolds, and it’s enough to have you stumbling backwards a single step. “Even with such power, you’re a disgrace.”

Those spoken words rattle against your bones, and reverberate down into the pit of your stomach where perhaps if you had been given food—it would be on the floor with the spilled guts and blood of the cursed spirits. Heat shoots down your shoulder, along the newly forming bone and at the tip of your fingers you’re gifted sight finally.

Fire blossoms at the tips of your fingers, and with a swipe of your hand in the direction of the voice—

You fall to your knees. Your heart aches violently in your chest, a battle between who you are now and who you once were.

“No child of mine should be on her knees. You are a disappointment.”

Your father. Cursed. He stands before you as the man he once was but also not. He’s taller, a skeleton of the man you knew him as. After the revelation that Sukuna had been the one to kill your father, you hadn’t questioned him as to why there was no body—you assumed that he was eaten, consumed for his flesh and the energy he possessed.

Yet he stands before you, stringy flesh stretched far too thin across his chest. You can see no rise to his chest, no beating heart that struggles within a cage of bone and flesh. He was truly dead, and they had cursed him. Brought him back as something much worse, he hadn’t returned as a simple curse.

He was too smart, too coherent and the wave of cursed energy that rolled off of him when he met your gaze was suffocating.

Something cold and metallic tilts your head upwards, until you’re forced to stare down the bridge of your nose at the blade barely visible in the waning firelight still burning at your fingertips. Your father regards you with nothing but contempt, a rageful silence that you had been on the receiving end of time and time again as a child.

“You are not my daughter.” He snarls, and the skin on his face visibly stretches with his words. How long had he been locked in here to rot away even as a being of immortality? “A Samurai does not die on his knees. Get up and fight me, child.”

The blade that was once tipping your chin up clatters to the floor, your father fading from the light you produced until he was shrouded once again in the darkness. The offered blade is different from the one you inherited from your father inadvertently, it’s much too light to be considered his. It held no cursed energy, no imprint from your living father.

With one hand wrapped around the hilt, you use it to help yourself stand up from the ground. Blood and other bodily matters stick to your skin, a stench that would haunt you until the very day you die burns at your nose. Your feet slide through that same gore, your position shifting into one you had adopted so many years ago—the very one you had attempted to use on Sukuna that fateful night.

You raise your arms up, a bicep covering the lower half of your face, and the sword raised above your head. You take in a deep breath, the hand lit with fire inching closer to the hilt of the blade until that light vanishes and you’re plunged into darkness that now feels more dangerous than it ever had before.

Training whilst blindfolded was something you had endured as a child. You were told to become one with the blade, to use it as an extension of one's self. You need no eyes if the blade guides you, you only had to strike true and hard—there was no time for mistakes, no time for hesitation. Hesitation meant death.

Without missing a beat. Your father strikes first.

He appears directly in front of you, a gust of self-made wind blowing you back just a step. You have no time to react, no time to even move when his blade comes up at you from a low-striking position. It collides with your blade, poorly deflecting his attack. But it doesn’t stop him. You can hear his feet shifting, sliding through the mess on the floor and you know what’s to come next—

His entire body spins, and the long haori he had draped over his body whips around his body. You only have a split second to twist your wrist, dropping a hand from the hilt so that you can turn the blade enough to collide with his own, they scrape noisily together with enough force that sparks trickle down the length of the blade.

You push back, enough to break the stalemate hold over your own blade. It gives you room to breathe, to suck in a deep breath and steady your mind. But you are given no reprieve, no moment to think through your next attack. Sukuna had been going easy on, you realise, when your father effortlessly strikes at you in succession.

It’s proving harder with each passing second to keep up with his movement, he possesses a speed that defies everything you know. Even when you pour out your own cursed energy in return, it is nothing in the face of a man who was known to be the fastest Samurai warrior in the whole of Japan. He was the Shogun for a reason.

And that was before he had been granted an unlimited amount of cursed energy, speed and strength that would rival even Sukuna.

He had become the monster you always saw him as.

His blade slices like you were made of paper, it glides along your skin and digs deep in under a second. You’re struck with the pain before your body is thrown backwards into the abyssal darkness, wet and clammy hands grasp at your shoulders. Yet this time, they do not grab you to eat you or harm you. Instead—they throw you back into the fray.

Even in Death, his loyal servants bow their heads to him.

“You’re better than you had once been.” Your father's voice comments from somewhere in the dark. “Has that bastard trained you to fight?”

“No.” You snarl back, wiping a hand along your lips when you taste the copper there. “That would’ve been you, General.”

Condescension had never been a tribulation your father had faced in his living life, and evidently, he would not take such a tone from a woman of all things. He launches himself forward from the darkness, his blade drawn and poised to strike in a clean arc along your chest. You can only bring your own katana around to collide with his own, but something shifts within his cursed energy.

It duplicates.

There’s a single second, a pause in time and you feel your heart thunder at the feeling that bubbles over the violence within. It’s fear, you come to recognise, a feeling you had felt so many times before but this was different. It was the type of fear that came moments before death.

The air around you explodes, an expansion of cursed energy that slices at you from every direction. You feel the smooth glide of your father's katana against every inch of your skin simultaneously. You didn’t even see it coming, a move that should’ve been so easy to recognise and yet it blindsided you enough that you grow numb to the sensation of your flesh being flayed.

“You continue to hesitate as you did as a child. That’s why you’ll die here today.” The onslaught of slashes on your body stop, and the coldness of his bloodied blade stings against the exposed muscle along the back of your neck. “Beheaded by a curse. How disappointing.”

The blade you had been given slips between your bloodied fingers, clattering loudly in the otherwise silent pit. He had won and you didn’t even have a chance to fight back—to die to your father was worse than to die at the hands of the current Shogun. He would succeed in his plan of killing you, you’d be nothing but a smudge of ink on a page. A disgrace forgotten and scratched from existence.

He hesitates, that darkness whispers into your ear, use it.

With what strength you retain in your arms, the muscles and nerves scream and burn in protest at being forced to move. Perhaps you would fail even to do this, as the pain is enough to cause your eyes to flutter close and your body slumps slightly with the effort.

“Fascinating.” Your father comments, however, the blade at your neck doesn’t move an inch. “You have grown in strength, even if just a little.”

“Domain Expansion: Warrior’s Valour.”

The world around you expands rapidly, that coldness at your neck is replaced with the smoothness of a kimono you had been given by Sukuna—the one he had you wear when you were announced as his “wife”. The crisp white is a stark difference against the bloodied water at your feet, it ripples from where you now stand until it laps at the feet of your father.

He stands before you instead, highlighted by the use of your cursed energy. Yet he does not look like the cursed spirit you had seen only mere minutes ago, instead, you see your father. The face he wears is the one you had seen before he sent you away, his body covered in his traditional samurai armour.

You were no longer looking at the vengeful spirit of your father, but instead his soul. He stands in the domain of your creation yet it’s different from when you had last used it. There’s no field of red lilies at your feet, as they seem to be sparsely spotted around the sea of blood.

A curious glance over your shoulder proves further that your domain had changed significantly with the new binding vow between yourself and Sukuna. Behind the Torii gate you stand beneath, there is a shrine. One of large bovine-shaped skulls and teeth; a mocking of a shrine made for a God and was instead a shrine for a demon.

“I see.” Your father draws your attention back to him, his eyes drifting away from the shrine behind you. “Despite how much I trained, I had never mastered a Domain.”

Your father slowly lowers himself down onto his knees, and then into a kneeling seated position with his hands placed on top of his thighs. He looked weak like this, on his knees before you awaiting punishment.

And even in the face of certain death, he smiles at something. “I should’ve listened to your mother. She warned me that you would become my undoing, so I dismissed her—I was a mighty warrior, I would not crumble at the feet of my own child. Perhaps that is why the Gods took her from me, I didn’t heed their warning.”

He laughs, and your chest constricts at the lack of emotion. “When we lost your mother, I thought she had cursed me with the challenge of raising a daughter I didn’t know how to raise. So I did the one thing I knew how to do. I raised a Samurai instead, and look at what happened.”

“Mother would’ve hated what you became.”

“She hated me before that. Our marriage was not one of love, but convenience. Her family was dying and I was in need of an heir. Yet she did not give me one and her family still died.” His head lowers to stare blankly at his upturned palms, as if he could see the blood that had stained him for years.

“Why did the Emperor want me dead?” You ask before you can hold your tongue, and your father visibly bristles at your words.

“He told me your mother was right. My undoing, the sword at my neck, the plague that would last for one thousand years. You. You were all of that, and I had to kill you.”

“I don’t believe you.” You didn’t, how could one man know all of that information? It was impossible.

“You don’t have to. It is done. You’re as cursed as I am, and you will die for it. Not by my sword, but your own. I am sorry that I couldn’t save you from such a fate.” His eyes close when he tilts his body forward more until his head is pressed just at the surface of the bloodied water and his hands cushion his forehead.

He no longer spoke, and instead, he awaited his punishment—his penance for failure. And so, to honour his final wish to die as he wanted, you approach him. The blood wades at your feet and laps at the edge of the otherwise pristine kimono until you’re stood at his side. Your father does not move, he doesn’t move an inch when you find a sword in your hand and pressed to the back of his neck.

“When we meet again, I hope it’s at the stream beside Mother’s favourite tree.” You comment, and you try not to focus on the way your father’s body shakes with a muted sob. “Until then. Rest well, father.”

His words do not come forth, his goodbyes left unsaid as you raise the sword and strike smoothly. His head falls from his shoulders, dropping into the sea of blood at your feet where it openly accepts the offering of another death, another soul to add to its endless bank.

The domain fades away almost immediately, and at your feet is the body of your cursed father. His head detached and body stuck in a permanent bow. His words stung you as much as they confused you. He had told you that you were always destined for this life, to become a disaster for those who would encounter you.

Did he want to kill you out of love, to stop you from enduring the pain you had so far in such a short amount of time? Or did he want to save his own legacy, to ensure that you were not a curse that plagued the Zen’in clan for centuries to come?

You would never find out the truth.

Purple flames burst up from his bowed body, so brilliantly bright that you can see the entire room for the first time. The walls are lined with cursed spirits, all of which are staring directly at you. Millions of eyes all watching, observing, waiting for your next move.

You take a step, and they hold their breath. Something curls like the smoke of a fire deep in your chest, this feeling—it was something you had wanted as a child. When you had seen your father as the Mighty Shogun, his armies of Samurai who’d bow in his presence and not dare to look him in the eye. This feeling was power. Unbridled power, and you forgot just how powerful you are.

There’s no anger that corrodes your heart, no pain or sadness that you had removed the head of your father. Everything feels… still. Right. Acceptance perhaps would be the correct word to use, but there was nothing left to accept. You had come to terms with the terrible man your father was, and he had only furthered bolstered your hatred for him.

A glance towards the entrance where you had been thrown shows there are no locks on the door, they were simply waiting to be opened. No one was meant to survive a fall into the pit, and that alone should have angered you. Yet, nothing came forth.

Another step, and the room shifts with you. Dragged feet and heavy stomps follow you through the room, up towards the steep stairs where you come to another standstill. You turn to find the curses had surged forward, not to attack; but to follow. They stare at you with wide eyes, twitching fingers and you wonder just how much of their consciousness is left to follow the one they deem ‘the strongest’.

It would never surmount to the army of men they once would’ve been a part of, but it was an army nonetheless. They would die, and they would suffer greatly at the hands of the living men beyond this door but it would serve as a warning; a message to the Shogun and those who surround him that not even the cursed spirit of your father would be enough to take you down.

As you approach the door, you press your hand to the wood. It takes no less than half a heartbeat before numerous deep cut lines appear on the door—and then it explodes outwards into the hallway you had been dragged down.

Silence follows the explosion of wood, a tension that waits to be snapped. Your foot crosses over the threshold and immediately you feel that caged darkness within burst forward. It’s enough to make you take a deep breath of relief. Here you were unrestrained, and the taste of freedom was almost as good as the blood that still coated the back of your throat.

Your feet are saturated in blood, a trail of bloodied footprints follow you as you traverse through the dark corridor. You knew they were aware of you surviving their failed attempt of snuffing out your light, they would’ve felt the second your cursed energy roared to life.

The weight of the katana in your hand feels heavier than it should, exhaustion is going to hit you soon. Pushing back against something that tried to nullify your cursed energy altogether had drained you more than you realised, and now outside of that place where it tried to silence you—you can feel the toll it has taken on you.

A creek of a wooden door has you turning to glance over your shoulder, the gathering of following curses stop to clear the view of who was unfortunate enough to walk through that door. A man freezes within the doorframe, his hand trembles at his side; too frightened to raise his hand and draw his blade.

You only blink and you’re standing before him, so close you can feel the shaky breath that escapes his gaping mouth. You recognise this one, he was the one who hit you hard enough that blood pooled beneath your skin for days; it was a pain to heal.

A grin blossoms on your face at the scent of his fear.

“You—”

Your fingers hardly brush against the hilt of the blade you had dragged with you from that pit, a burst of pointed energy that has the man before you choking on his words. The blood blossoms at his side, not deep enough to cause immediate danger but enough that it should eventually cause him to bleed out.

Another slice of your blade that’s otherwise invisible to the naked eye has him falling back the way he came, his hands slipping through the spilt blood in a vain attempt to push himself away; out of your reach. You raise your blade this time so he can see it, the tip of it poised to strike at his heart.

“W-Wait! Please!” He begs, a man who had laughed at your agony… begs.

That delights you.

Yet, you still surge forward—and your sword misses its mark. You plant it into his shoulder, shoving him down until he’s forced flat onto his back and you loom over him. He screams in agony, no doubt soon he would alert the others of his plight but you don’t remove the blade—not yet.

“What was it you said to me?” You lean in closer, putting more pressure on the katana until it twists. “Oh, yes, you said I was good for nothing but a beating and a nasty fuck.”

His nostrils flare at your words, tears rolling uselessly from his eyes.

“I should slice you into ribbons. Feed you your own cock to show you how little it really is.” He squirms beneath your sword, and you twist it once again until he screams himself hoarse. “But you deserve worse.”

Shifting your weight up, you rip the blade from his shoulder… only to bring it back down against his legs. It slices deeply, not enough to sever the limbs but enough to ensure he didn’t run. His hands grab uselessly at the gaping wounds, his fingers pressing into exposed flesh and flinching at the feeling of his own exposed bone.

“Scream well, they like it.”

You don’t look back at the man who questions your words, nor do you look back when the horror dawns on him at the approaching horde of cursed spirits. Their delighted laughs and snickering voices drown out the man's indignant screams, only for them to be turned into gurgled sounds when they rip him apart—piece by piece. Slowly.

The corridors are deserted, and for some reason, it has your blood boiling beneath the surface of your skin. Did they not deem you enough of a threat that they hadn’t come running? You follow the faintest thread of cursed energy, faded footsteps that had been left behind some time ago.

A door is ajar at the end of the corridor, and you can feel the outside breeze from where you are. That alone has you hurrying your steps, slipping only once in the blood that trailed after you. The fresh air stings against your newly remade skin, a bitter coldness that can only come with the darkness of night.

Pulling the door open slowly, you find yourself standing in a courtyard that connects the prisoner section of the estate to the main building. It’s grand, open and wide with beautiful trees and shrubbery that had been attended to by the servants of the Zen’in clan.

But it’s not the beautiful scenery that has you stopping. It’s the gathering of men and women in front of you, their laughs and joyous yelling is the only thing you can hear over the rapid beating of your heart. They’re celebrating.

Lanterns are lit, as well as a generously lit pyre in the centre of it all. You can scent the sake on the breeze that brushes against you once again. To let your guard down and drink… they must’ve believed you to be truly dead. They were celebrating the death of the exiled Zen’in—one they never considered part of their clan in the first place. All because you were born a woman.

A glance to your side shows just how close you are to the large estate walls, the tops of mountains loom in the distance. You could escape, get out before Sukuna showed up and fell into the trap they had formulated by capturing you. You could stop the inevitable from happening.

Instinctively, you take a step forward towards that wall. Your eyes blink away the grime and blood that had clouded your mind, this could be it. You could get away—

Why are you running away, that dark voice snarls in the back of your mind. Do you forget what they did to you?

“No,” you whisper out loud to a voice none but yourself can hear.

Then turn around and prove their fears right, it’s a voice you’ve come to connect with the part of your soul that had been corroded away and bound to Sukuna. Kill them all.

Invisible hands curl like icy tendrils around your arms, they pull you until you take steps back from the wall—from your freedom. The celebration is otherwise undisturbed, the drunkards unaware of the looming threat that stands in the darkness of the building. Hidden from the judgement of the moon.

A stumbling man has your attention drawn away from the main gathering of people. His eyes are glazed over, drunk and unaware that he’s stumbling closer and closer to the open maw of a starved wolf. He reeks of sake and sweat, no doubt celebrating for hours it would seem. They fully anticipated your death, to be free of the curse that was bestowed upon them.

He stumbles directly into you, reeling back at the realisation he had bumped into a person and not the door he was seeking. “Hey!” He slurs, eyes hardly open when they squint at your face. “Move out of the way, you foolish woman—”

Slowly, those squinted eyes widen and the glaze of his eyes clears momentarily when he appraises just what you look like. Drenched head to toe in both blood of your own and your enemies, it mixes in with the stained ripped kimono you were forced into during your prison stay. The sword at your side points down at the ground, still shimmering in the purple cursed blood of your father.

His nostrils flare and his mouth opens to scream, to yell that they had failed to realise you were stronger than they pinned you for. But you’re the one who moves first, his body collides with the floor hard enough to wind him.

Despite being drunk, the man throws his weight upwards in hopes of dislodging you from his torso. Your knees dig painfully into the ground at his sides, and you’re forced to place your hands around his throat to hold him down to the ground beneath you. It was only a matter of time, mere seconds until someone noticed the commotion in the waning shadows of the building behind you.

Unable to restrain him further, he resorts to trying to push you away. His fingers sink into the flesh of your cheeks, dragging sharp untrimmed nails deep enough to draw skin and muscle apart. He scrambles to push harder, to dig deeper, when you start putting more pressure on his throat.

His fingers scratch at your eyes, the sharp pain that follows is enough to drive you forward. You crush his throat into the ground, the snapping of his spinal cord is a satisfying ripple that bounces down the length of your very own spine. He still breathes, however, albeit in a ragged way like that of an injured animal.

With blood in your eyes, and skin torn apart on your face, you lean into that feeling of pleasure, of joy, of hunger. You’d been starved for far too long.

He doesn’t scream when you lurch forward—can’t. Can’t air his pain when your teeth sink into the flesh of his cheek, sharpened canines that you’d known to exist there bite through the muscle and fat of his face as if it were nothing but flimsy meat. You pull your head back in one smooth motion, the rip and tear of his skin is lost to the sound of the festivities just a few feet away.

The man still lives. You can see his teeth through the now open wound of his face, and you chew on the flesh of the man in front of you. The blood that washes down your throat and coats your skin is hot, a comforting warmth that you had not yet been given the chance to experience firsthand.

His flesh is tough, stringy and chewy all in one but you do not stop eating, working your way through that patch of flesh in your mouth until it’s all gone. Then, when the man is on the verge of dying from blood loss, you smile down at him. With blood smeared across your teeth and the wounds on your face starting to heal, you lean down to his face once again.

He must believe in his final moments that you’d take another bite from him, as he squirms under your body. You tighten that grip on his throat, squeezing and squeezing until you feel the tips of your fingers join—and then you pull.

His head comes free from his shoulders, a spray of blood that soaks into the muddied ground. He lies still beneath you, the warmth of his skin melts through your sorry excuse of a kimono. It wasn’t enough, you realise, that ravenousness inside of you grows only in intensity at the first taste of human flesh.

Fresh human flesh.

Your fingers sink into the hair atop of the man’s now detached head, and you stand up—over your prey. You glance away from the kill and towards the crowd of people; undisturbed, unaware, unafraid. You want to laugh, you want to scream but most of all, you want to feast.

A single step forward, and you disappear from the spot. They don’t even see you coming, nor do they have a moment's chance to react to the burst of cursed energy. An energy they had hoped to snuff out for good, one they hoped they would never have to face.

Skin you pass by learns the bite of your sword and your tongue learns the taste of blood diluted with alcohol. They don’t scream at first, not until they realise what was happening. Not until they see you run your blade cleanly through three men all standing idly around the lit pyre in the centre of the courtyard.

Their upper bodies fall with a thud to the floor, and that silence that follows the death of another is only a heartbeat long before women scream, children cry and men call for arms. Chaos—uncontrolled chaos, and you. You’re the epicentre of it all.

A man comes at you from your side, his blade raised over his head in a sloppy attacking stance. His face is red with anger, or perhaps it’s just the spray of his own blood when you swipe your hand in his direction. He freezes in place, the sword held over his head quivers for a moment and you wonder… was that not enough?

But your answer comes swiftly. His body falls apart in five perfectly sized slices, his eyes are wide and the blood that follows is like that of misted rain. Yes, that was more than enough cursed energy.

The sound of someone scrambling to grab at the wooden handle of a shoji door has your head snapping in their direction. A man, younger than the rest, no more than a teenager is trying to escape… perhaps in another life, you would’ve faltered. You would’ve hesitated, but to hesitate was to die, it was to be defeated—as hesitation was the cause of your father's ultimate demise.

And so, you didn’t hesitate in rearing your arm back, the katana in your hand transformed into a makeshift spear before you launched it in his direction. The teenage boy all but screams before he slams through the paper door, the blade now pinning his head to the wall within the building.

Now unarmed without a blade, it would seem the men assumed you were much easier to kill. They come at you in waves, their swords raised and they strike at you without missing a beat. Katanas slash through the air, the slice of them enough to cut even the air around you. It’s easy enough to defend yourself, to manipulate both your own cursed energy before throwing Sukuna’s at them.

They didn’t stand a chance against it, their fleshy bodies falling into nothing but thin strips of meat or clumps of meat when they tried to fight against the pressure of your cursed energy. And yet, this fight is only angering you further.

You knew the Shogun to have sorcerers in his midst, Samurai who could also use cursed techniques and you don’t doubt that the Zen’in clan themselves had men who were strong enough to be their own standalone unit. And yet, they don’t come at you with cursed techniques or even a lick of cursed energy.

Did they think you were unworthy? That you were a waste of time and effort to fight properly?

You grit your teeth, your jaw aches at the pressure and you can feel the spike in your own cursed energy. The hairs rise on the back of your neck and you can see the men visibly falter in their swings when they realise just how much you’re pouring out. Fine, if they didn’t want to take you seriously…

A sword swipes at you, and you duck down to plant your hand flat against the ground. You’d only seen Sukuna do this once and that was enough. You pour out your cursed energy into the ground beneath you, it cracks and rumbles beneath you until it explodes upwards. The men around you are thrown up into the air, rock and debris crushing their legs and throwing their blades to be lost in the chaos.

Time comes to a slow stop, their bodies hung in the air with the chunks of earth you had uprooted. But you, for the first time that night, visibly waver at the amount of energy you had just poured out. No doubt the usage of the domain from earlier had drained you, and the wound bestowed across your stomach had not yet fully healed.

You could still feel the slightest restraints on you, deep down in your blood where it slowly boils away. You were running out of time, you had to finish this and get out. You didn’t want to, you wanted to cause more pain and suffering to those who had ripped you away from a life you were starting to love.

Bodies crack onto the floor around you, splattering and scattering remains among the ruined earth. You had no time to kill them precisely, to make them suffer—you simply just let them fall to their deaths.

“HEY!” A voice cuts through the buzz of your mind, and you glance up. A pair of brown eyes find yours and then… your body freezes. You feel the muscles tighten as if you had been struck by lightning, you can’t move a single finger. You grit your teeth, or you think you do but you know in reality—nothing is moving.

The man who had called for you exudes crude pride as he strolls closer, the cursed energy that rolls off of him is muted in comparison to your own but it was enough that it had caught you off guard. You want to move, to twitch just a finger in his direction and watch him fall apart.

They had waited until you grew weak and tired, cowards. All of them, cowards. You can feel their signatures slowly appear around you, their cursed energy roaring and ready to go. They’d rip you apart when you were down and weak… how foolish of you to go all out.

“The one with Six Eyes told us you were dead, that we’d be fine to go and fuck the local village girls instead of guarding you.” A voice, a new one, comments from your left. You can’t turn to face him, but you can feel him growing closer. His energy was hot, like a blistering fire. “But I heard that he was fucking you, and that you made a deal. You kill us and he gets to fuck you like the whore you are.”

A few shadowed figures laugh at the comment, snickering no doubt at the vile words falling from the unknown man's mouth. A hand slides along your jaw, smudging the blood that had gathered there during your short-lived rampage. You still can’t see him, but now you can smell him. He smelled like fire, smoke and ash. His cursed energy was suffocating each time you tried to take a deep breath through your nose.

“How about you let us have our way with you, and then we kill you.” He snickers at his own question, the tips of his fingers dig into your cheeks in an attempt to force your mouth open. “Hm? Give us what we want, and I promise you’ll love every single second of it.”

You want to turn your head to look him in the eye, but your muscles protest and your tongue thickens in your mouth each time you try to force the words out. You want to hiss and spit, to thrash your way out of his hold but you can’t move. Nothing is working the way you want it to, you’re utterly hopeless. Again.

You throw your cursed energy out again, forcing it to slam against the invisible hold the one with brown eyes had put over you. It falters, only for a second, but it’s enough of a second you need to move your head. Your teeth sink into flesh and bone, the blood sprays the back of your throat and you hold on with all your might when the unknown man tries to rip his hand back.

“YOU STUPID BITCH!” He howls in pain, and finally, you meet his eyes. He glares down at you with onyx eyes, and you hope he can see the death grin on your face when you lock your jaw the second he shifts his weight to pull back—his finger comes free from his hand in a loud tearing sound. The severed finger sits heavy on your tongue, and the maimed man stumbles backwards.

He moves, and you find yourself once again unable to flinch back at the sudden wave of fiery cursed energy. His entire sword erupts into flames, not of the same calibre as your own or Sukuna’s, but flames nonetheless.

“I’ll make sure you suffer.” He snarls, spittle snapping from his gritted teeth. You wish you could bare your teeth in return.

Instead, you find yourself nearly toppling over from a sudden crush of cursed energy, it drops from the sky with an almighty bang. The ground beneath you splinters further and the buildings surrounding you shudder. Your body moves finally, the invisible shackles you were in release and you find yourself grasping at the thing that had wrapped itself around you.

An arm. An arm with a matching tattoo to your own.

“There you are.”

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#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

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peachsayshi · 3 months

Note

If you feel up to it could you pretty please do 68. Character A kissing the Character B and then pulling away because Character B’s too shocked to respond, but then Character B’s pulling them back in and kissing them hard with Nanamin?

➳ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

⥽ notes: hi anon! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. thank you for being so patient regarding your request! I know I take a long time to fulfill them >.< tension; nanami and reader are best friends & nanami has a big fat crush on her; unrequited (ish); shy nanamin; jealous nanami

"what do you think?" you chirp, twirling in front of the mirror.

nanami swallows the lump in his throat, his cheeks burning like the surface of the sun as he takes in the slope of your curves hidden underneath the sinful black dress you are wearing which clings to your body like a second skin.

he sighs quietly and immediately drops his gaze towards the ground as he presses his thumb nervously into the palm of his hand.

"you look..." he answers but quickly clears his throat to even out the shakiness in his voice. he taps his foot anxiously, fidgeting in place as he remains seated on the edge of the bed. "you look beautiful..."

he tries to catch your reaction from underneath his golden eyelashes, but you are busy nitpicking at the straps clinging over your shoulders, and readjusting the fabric so it doesn't bunch up in odd places.

"you sure it isn't too..." you inquire, mindlessly running your hands along the outline of your figure which only makes your best friend twitch in his pants. "revealing?"

the blonde scratches the back of his head, unsure what to do with his hands since he can't keep still. he stands up from his seat to approach you, maintaining a friendly distance but is now taking you in fully as he meets your reflection in the mirror.

"you look great," he admits with a hint of frustration, "and you looked great in the last three dresses that you wore as well..."

he reads every thought that crosses your mind through the adorable expressions you make. but is it good enough? he catches, when you purse your lips to contemplate the dress again.

it's good enough for me, he replies in his head. you're perfect to me.

"I don't get why you're trying so hard," he mumbles with a hint of indignation,

"because you know long how I've waited for this..."

his stomach churns at the thought.

you've had a crush on that white haired idiot since high school. it was bad enough that nanami had to spend most of his teenage years listening to you "oh" and "ah" over him, but your interactions with satoru gojo were always few and far between. he didn't think he would have to worry about anything ever happening but recently you have both been working on missions together, and over the last couple of weeks nanami started noticing a little spark between you both.

it scared him.

your best friend has been in love with you for as long as he can remember. all his previous relationships ended after they met you (a fact he consciously kept a secret), because all his partners used to point out his extremely obvious feelings to his face.

he's tried to confess his feelings for you multiple times over the years, but circumstances got in his way.

nanami and you have a history. a history of ups and downs, of weaving your lives into each other as easily as the air your breathe. he's sat through conversations like this with you before, held back his tongue as he watched you casually date one person after the other, and was the shoulder you cried on when you went through your first real heartbreak.

but he's never felt threatened by the others before - at least, not in this way.

you didn't harbor feelings for them the way you did satoru gojo.

you quirk your brow at nanami through the reflection, "I'm putting myself out there," you remark teasingly, "who knows, I might even get lucky!"

the thought of his superior's hands all over you, picturing that smug mouth capturing your own makes nanami wince in disgust.

"you know I can't fucking stand the guy, right?" he pouts, the front of his brows furrowing with disappointment. "I thought we agreed that we would only see people that the other would approve of. unless my opinion no longer carries any weight..."

you spin on your heel to face him and chuckle adorably in a way that makes his chest tighten, and forcing a blush to kiss the tips of his cheekbones

"kento, you know I care about what you think, but you've never approved of any of the men that I've been interested in..." you retort, while casually placing your hand on his shoulder and giving him a squeeze.

"of course I didn't approve - none of them were good enough for you," he insists seriously, the tone of his voice puzzling you.

"oh?" you question with intrigue, taking a small step closer into his frame. "and who is suppose to be good enough for me then?"

his heart rapidly beats, making his chest rise and fall as he holds your stare. "I..." he mumbles, the heat on his face unbearable now, "I don't know...but it sure as hell wasn't them...and it especially isn't gojo..."

"lighten up," you reply, dropping your hand from his shoulder to playfully poke his rib. "you're getting all worked up for no reason..."

"you've had a thing for this guy for eight years..."

"and?"

"so," he panics, "it's a big fucking deal to me."

your eyes widen in surprise. "but...why, it's...it's just a date-"

he shakes his head, tilting his chin down as he runs his fingers through the strands of his blonde locks.

"ken," you whisper under your breath, your face falling into concern. "what's going on? why are you so upset?"

when he doesn't reply you seal the gap of space, bringing both your hands to the fabric of his soft grey tee and squeezing the material.

"c'mon, talk to me," you nudge, "you know you can tell me anything."

he shakes his head again, bringing one hand to circle around your wrist as he seeks out comfort by tracing his finger on the back of your palm.

"I can't," he confesses, the depth of his voice sending a tremor down your spine.

"okay, now you're actually worrying me," you profess, tucking two fingers underneath his chin to tilt his face towards you.

nanami closes his eyes, "I don't..." he murmurs, "I don't want to ruin anything..."

"ruin?" you puff out in shock, even smiling uncomfortably at his odd statement. "ruin what exactly-"

he leans in then, submitting to his will to find your lips. he presses his mouth firmly but gently against your own, his hands searching for your waist as you melt into his touch. his heart sings when he tastes how sweet you truly are, sliding his tongue greedily along your own when he feels you part your lips. the kiss is so soft, it makes him spiral into a lustful haze but he pulls away hastily once he realizes that he's succumbed to his impulses.

nanami loosens his grip.

"shit," he hoarsley groans, "I'm...I'm so sorry..."

he glances back up to your shocked response, your body frozen in place.

"It's just...it's just that I saw how you pined for him," he mumbles, fighting with his mind to unravel his jumbled thoughts. "I saw how you pined for him, while....I was pining for you. "

the silence lingers uncomfortably.

"this...this isn't easy for me. telling you this...is hard because we are so close..." nanami exhales to steady his breath, "I don't want to screw us up," he acknowledges. "you mean so much to me, but...but I'm worried that loving you the way that I do is going to fuck things up between us, and I don't want to ruin what we have..."

your fingers lightly pull at his shirt - an indication that you are hanging on to every last vulnerable word.

"I love you. I always have, and I'm asking you, just this once, to please...reconsider..."

you simply blink, contemplating his words thoughtfully but to nanami's dismay you remain tight lipped.

"I know this seems out of the blue. I don't expect you to reciprocate and I don't want you to assume that I consider myself the right guy for you either. You deserve to be with someone who dotes on you, who returns your love tenfold..." the corner of his mouth pulls into a sad grin, as if he's accepted defeat. "I know he's the guy you always wanted, but...I'm just asking for one chance..."

he tries to inch away to give you some room, but you maintain your hold on his shirt as you tug him back in.

"I think," you dreamily sigh, "I think I need a little more convincing..."

you kiss him hard, with a feverish desire that you didn't even know existed until it was ignited by his own lips. nanami accepts the kiss eagerly, his arms locking around your waist, while your own circle his neck. you hold each other in a tight embrace, refusing to let the other go.

nanami stumbles back when you step forward, until the back of his calves hit the the frame of your bed and he finds himself collapsing onto the plush mattress. your body sinks on top of his, your legs straddling over his strong muscles as you continue to draw out the long, heated kiss. years of desperation manifesting through nibbles and gasps, with you both swallowing the sounds of your mutual desire.

when you finally pause to catch your breath, your bodies are intimately intertwined, your lips lingering over the other as your eyes finally meet.

so familiar.

so safe.

so very warm.

(requests are closed)

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #peach queues.🧡

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junnieverse · 8 months

Text

PRANK WARS ➳ ENHYPEN

➙ pranking enhypen

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

genre: just a load of crack/humour honestly

warning: not proofread, mentions of food in jungwon and sunoo's parts

a/n: thank you guys so much for supporting my blog! I just only recently started posting but they're all doing so well, I appreciate it all so much and I'm happy you're all liking it :)

🖇️ — 양정원 ; JUNGWON !

you had been bored the entire day and jungwon would be coming back home soon from work

thinking of ways to have some fun to kill the boredom, you grin mischievously at your little plan to prank your boyfriend

you grabbed some peanut butter from your cabinet and carefully scooped a few spoons into a pair of Jungwon's house slippers and quickly ran back to hide your evidence as you heard the key pad signal his arrival

"(y/n)! I'm home and I got all the snacks and drinks for our movie night!" he yells from the door

anticipating his reaction, you rush back to the entryway with your phone camera on as his face contorted in disgust as he felt the mushyness by his feet

"OH NO NO- DID MAEUMI POOP IN MY SHOES?!" he shrieks looking at the brown substance in disgust as he was in complete disbelief

looking up, he catches you filming and laughing and thats when he realised this was all a joke and he was simply an innocent victim to the shenanigans

feeling guilty in the end you spent the rest of the night apologising to your boyfriend who only accepted your apology in your cuddles

🖇️ — 이희승 ; HEESEUNG !

heeseung had been pranking you at any chance he could for the past month and you knew enough was enough

getting revenge was important this time around and getting him where it hurts was the most important, that meant aiming for his jealousy

getting ideas from your best friend, they had suggested texting him, "He's gone, you can come over now" as if it were meant for someone else would most definitely rile him up just as he has you for the past month

after all, revenge is best served hot (with a side of a jealous boyfriend)

heeseung had just given you a kiss goodbye before leaving for one of his schedules and as you watched him get into the car you made sure to send that exact text

to your suprise, the male immediately stepped out the car and rushed into the house to interrogate you

"Who's coming over and what are you both doing-" he huffs as he takes a moment to catch his breath

"Oh nobody in particular. But you kept playing your pranks on me, I had to make sure to step up my game," you say as he raises his hands in defeat sighing in relief at your news.

"Okay okay, you got me there, no more pranks... for now-" he abruptly adds in the last part as he left shutting the door before you could interject

🖇️ — 박종성 ; JAY !

you and ni-ki had been working together playing pranks on the members for fun and your latest victim this time would be your own boyfriend jay

what better way to mess with him then the classic hair dye in his shampoo prank

you knew jay loved his hair, as anyone else did, but dying a colour as wild as neon green would definitely send him through the roof

after telling the other boys about your big plan which in response they laughed saying they would pray for you, ni-ki helped you prepare the green dye for the prank

you all waited in the living room while jay took his shower, at the perfect time, his loud scream was heard as he bursted out the bathroom

his green hands were holding onto the towel wrapped around his torso as his now newly green dyed damp hair, dripped on the floor as he looked at everyone with a deadly glare

"Okay whoever thought christmas was early and made me the grinch has 5 seconds to run!" jay threatened as he became more furious

everyone immediately looked at you feeling guilty as they pretty much ratted you out with their gazes switching to you

softly curse under your breath, you immediately grabbed your bag and sprinted out the door as jay yelled for you angrily to come back

mission successful

🖇️ — 심재윤 ; JAKE !

jake's birthday was approaching and before giving him a nice and memorable gift, you wanted to rattle his heart a bit

the longer you thought about it the more you felt hesitant about going through with it considering how brutal it was

and what better way to successfully do this than to get layla involved in the prank you had planned

you had your camera set as you recorded everything making sure you had the messy mascara and red eyes to make it seem as if you had been crying

it was all meticulously planned out in your opinion and jake thinking his dog ran away and you weren't able to find her was the perfect (yet most heart racing) prank

while this all happened, the little angel was just quietly sleeping in your closet playing along

"Jake I am so sorry, she was right here and then, s-she was gone... layla ran away-"

the prank had taken an unexpected detour as jake immediately froze at the news and dropped to the ground going unconscious

your boyfriend soon woke up after fainting and you nursed him back to health

his immediate response was to look for his dog and he felt himself relax seeing her at the foot of his bed happy as ever

"I understand pranking me but please don't involve layla next time, I can't believe I passed out."

okay so maybe involving his dog wasn't the best idea but you knew your birthday gift for him would definitely make up for the shaking up he experienced moments ago

🖇️ — 박성훈 ; SUNGHOON !

after being in a relationship with Sunghoon for these past months, you already knew how jealous he could get which only made your prank for him work perfectly

you both had been quite playful in your relationship with one another but this next prank would definitely catch hoon off-guard

what better way to get at your boyfriend than the popular hickey prank

you had watched a couple of make up tutorials for this and you were certain your prank would be solid gold and would leave hoon absolutely red in mixed emotions

both of you had just come back from a night stroll and you had purposely worn a turtle neck to hide the fake hickey and get his attention

"You should take off the sweater, it's way too hot for tha-"

pulling the neck of it down, he comes across the purple 'bruise' adorning your neck and his eyes completely widen in shock.

getting your acting skills on you try to hide the spot but he was fast with his movements and started to rub your neck completely ruining the prank

"Make up? Really (y/n), you thought you could prank me? Ha, you're un-beli-bubble... get it-" he says laughing at his own dad joke

anddd there he goes again

🖇️ — 김선우 ; SUNOO !

sunoo had been given time off after promotions and he wanted to ofcourse use that time to be with you before his schedule got full again

both of you being absolute foodies, you knew you would be travelling and eating around the city

being a dessert lover yourself too, you got your boyfriend some mint choco ice cream but decided to prank him when he came over to visit you

adding a scoop of ice cream into the bowl you secretly squeezed some toothpaste in the middle hiding it with another scoop of ice cream

"Here's some ice cream love." you say giving him the bowl with a spoon as he gladly accepted it

innocently smiling, you watched him take his first bite which had been safe but his second spoon left him looking sick as his face contorted into pure disgust

sunoo being the sweet boyfriend he was couldn't tell you that he hated it

not wanting to offend you, he swallowed the toothpaste ice cream before smiling at you as his ears reddened

"Wow haha... what an... unusual taste of mint choco this is,"

unable to restrict yourself you burst out in laughter, "I can't believe you actually ate the toothpaste, oh my angel, I'm sorry."

as funny as it was, sunoo still eating that 'ice cream' just for you was the sweetest thing ever and you couldn't help but feel guilty for pranking him like that

🖇️ — 西村力 ; NI-KI !

riki had been gifted a ps5 a couple of weeks ago and he had been on it nonstop whenever he was home gaming with his other members or by himself

you just wanted your boyfriend to pay a little more attention to you and you thought getting a fake one would prepare the perfect prank to teach him a lesson

you'd both been pranking one another for weeks now but this one would be unforgettable

jake was able to help you hide his real game in the closet and set up the fake one in ni-ki's room before he came back from practice

preparing for the perfect time upon hearing his footsteps coming, you grabbed the hammer and started swinging at the fake ps5 box

smashing the pc, the door swung open and your boyfriend ran towards you trying to stop you but to no avail the ps5 was shattered into pieces

"WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?! MY BEAUTIFUL PS5 IS GONE! YOU'RE A MONSTER!" he completely broke down falling on his knees crying as he looked at the game not believing his eyes

the rest of the boys soon came in phones in hand recording everything as they laughed congratulating you for doing a great job

riki soon caught on that it was all a prank and wiped his tears as jake brought out his real one

"You would have been single in the next minute if you really broke my ps5, my poor baby-"

yep, he was hugging his pc...

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