#and whose fate is intertwined with yours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

metranart · 4 months ago

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pairing. arranged marriage clanhead! satoru x fem! reader

Summary. Since you were children, Gojo Satoru bothered you, pulled your hair and took your candy, he licked it and then gave it back to you- you HATED him… and now fifteen years later your Clans have decided that you should get married?! The only thing left for you is to run away, but how far can you go when the owner of the six eyes has them all on you?

tags/warnings. nsfw 18+, teaser, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, slight canon divergence, arranged marriage, satoru is a spoiled brat, breeding, breeding kink, praise kink, loss of virginity, Geto never left and is still Gojo's best friend, mentions of Naoya Zenin (most of these tags are for the full version)»

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Under the watchful eye of all the guests, you began your walk down the aisle in slow, almost lazy steps, as if you didn’t want to get there. Your every move watched, measured, and judged by the dozens of expectant faces surrounding you.

You could see Satoru’s back standing at the end of the aisle, wrapped in robes of the finest silk. Could glimpse his snow-white hair. He'd grow even taller than he already was, thick and broad. He was no longer a slender spike. Swallowing hard, you felt your fingertips tingle, your stomach knot, anticipation slowly consuming you, each step bringing you closer to sharing the same last name.

You won't lie, you were a little curious... Suguru Geto was, admittedly, painfully attractive, which made you wonder: what would Satoru be like? You remember him as being standard, nothing extraordinary, except for his eyes, which never failed to make you sigh, although didn't make him any less of a jerk-

A shaky breath dried your lips; the corridor you walked grew shorter with each fateful step.

All the great clans present for this event: Zenin, Kamo, Gojo, and yours. Dignified elders with upright postures whose eyes peered out with studied cordiality, but with strong hints of arrogance. Scrutinizing you like a sacrificial lamb. You still didn't understand why Satoru had specifically chosen you. You were sure he had many suitable women to choose from. The looks of the Gojo clan elders screamed that you hadn't been his first choice, nor his second, nor his tenth; you could see the deep resignation behind their prejudiced eyes. Making you wonder even more: Why you?

During these fifteen years of pleasant separation, you had heard about Satoru Gojo's exploits, always shirking his responsibilities and duties by participating in one mission or another, fighting dozens of curses, and always winning. He had become a teacher at Jujutsu High, and his life was the freewheeling allegory of a globetrotter with too much money. The rules of this world bent only to him. As always. You envied him, you envied his free will as much as you envied his audacity to always get his way.

Since you were children, it was always like this: he'd do something, and everyone would look the other way. Nothing he did deserved punishment. But when you did, they didn't hesitate to apply the full force of the law to you. Satoru always waiting outside the room where you were grounded or brazenly barging in to 'keep you company.' He never left you alone, and now he never will again.

Once you occupied the space allotted to you: at his side, your stubbornness prevented you from even looking at him; you simply stared straight ahead. Even when you felt his gaze boring into you, piercing you, a bright, impossibly blue flash, devouring every expression with avid eyes.

The ceremony began and you both sat down. You could handle this. You were strong. You just had to avoid him-

Your whole body froze.

His knuckles had just brushed against your hand as if seeking closeness, trying to taste you before having you for the rest of his life. Satoru had always been impatient. First, his fingers explored, gently caressing your knuckles and tracing each finger with the pads before shamelessly intertwining his hand with yours. How brazen! It was the final straw; you had just the right glare to put him in his place-

Oh.

A ragged breath caught in your lungs. You hadn't seen each other in fifteen years. The last time you saw him, he'd been an incorrigible teenager, but this man, this divine man looking at you with those stunning ice-blue eyes couldn't be the same, could it?

You prayed that your cheeks wouldn't give you away, that his keen hearing wouldn't distinguish the erratic beats of your racing heart, that your kidnapped hand wouldn't start sweating. God! Satoru Gojo had become unfairly handsome. If your life were a joke, this would be the punch line.

A subtle tension seeped between you, and a deliberate, involuntary smile lifted the corner of his lips in the ghost of a mischievous grin, a smile you knew by heart because it spread across his face whenever he knew he'd done something wrong and that you would pay for it. That's when you realized the boy who always got his way was still there.

"I know it's not ideal, (Y/N)-"

Suddenly, Satoru murmured in a deep, masculine voice, carefree and almost lighthearted, as if you weren't making one of the most important decisions of your lives. All spoke quietly enough for only you to hear. “But I assure you we'll have a fun marriage,” you had to restrain every muscle on your face, suppressing frustration beneath feigned indifference, “…like when we were young, remember?”

You snorted softly, and Satoru interpreted it as something positive. The corners of his lips lifted in an attempt at a victorious smile, but it was cut short when you glared at him with a look that could annihilate special-grade curses. The snow-white-haired sorcerer tilted his head slightly, and in a gesture, you couldn't decipher, he licked his lips before giving you a lascivious wink.

You were seething inside. The bastard was as handsome as he was shameless.

This man's audacity almost made you pounce on him, but your mother had spent too many years taming your explosive personality, years that weren't in vain, as they were now coming in handy.

The ceremony ended up being exactly what Satoru expected: long, tedious, and filled with unnecessary rituals, but he had to accept that there was one ritual he was more than eager to get to.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the monk spoke in a solemn voice, “you may kiss the bride.”

You both stood up, and Satoru leaned unbearably close. His minty breath caressed your upper lip, and his bright gaze locked on yours for a fleeting moment. You could have sworn you saw the hint of an apology, but you must have been hallucinating because when his lips met yours, you only tasted the selfish desire to mark you as his.

You didn't even blink, nothing, you just let his lips rest on yours like when you were children. He had stolen your first kiss—stolen was the right word because you never meant to give it to him. It was fleeting and impersonal, but just like that day, a bright smile was tattooed on his face after the mischievous theft that made your blood boil. That same smile was staring back at you now.

"You remembered my favorite flavor is cherry," he moaned excitedly, darting his tongue out to lick the remnants of your lipstick from his lips. You didn't remember, but your mother did.

All the guests began to move to the party, and you rolled your eyes, ready to leave too, but he stopped you by taking your hand, his grip soft and gentle, but firm as iron. You were itching to pull away, but your mother's hawk-like gaze was watching you. You knew she'd kill you if you disgraced him in public. So instead...

“I hate cherries.”

Satoru’s head cocked just a tad, inquisitively.

“You do?”

You were lying, he knew it. Your irritated gaze collided with Satoru's, who, already feeling far too comfortable with his new title of husband and wife, leaned down from his privileged height and pressed his forehead to yours.

"May I have another kiss, my dear wife?"

Your cheeks blasted in color, a tingling sensation running through your body at his blatant strategy to unnerve you.

"T-they're waiting for us," you could barely contain your stutter, separating your forehead from his. His long hands almost instantly wrapped around your forearms in a possessive embrace that indicated he wasn't ready to let go. "T-the leader of the G-Clan Gojo must be an example to follow, Satoru."

He tipped his head, piercing blue eyes studying you intently. “Say it again.”

“The head of-”

“No.” He corrected, “Say my name again.”

The uncertainty in your eyes drew a stifled chuckle from him.

“Fifteen years, (Y/N)." His voice held a note of desperation well hidden beneath playfulness, "...I'm already on the brink." His grip tightened slightly, making you stand on your tiptoes. "Can't you see I missed you?"

You could see it and it was a disturbing sight. Confusing to the core. Why was your heart beating so damn fast? Why was he continuing this charade? Why had he returned after fifteen years of pleasant absence? WHY?!

“… Why me, Satoru?!”

You needed to know. He stared at you, unblinking. All smugness melting from his features.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He seemed genuinely taken back by your question. You shook your head, and a slow grin spread across his lips.

“Because I want you.” He confessed so easily, "It's always been you-”

"-You're still a spoiled brat."

"I'm still spoiled, maybe," he admitted matter-of-factly, "but I’m not a brat, not anymore.” His gaze oozed seriousness. His hands loosened slightly around your arms, but he still didn't let go. "You were always quick to label me an idiot, no matter how much I apologized,” he'd undoubtedly spoken to Suguru earlier, “or how repentant I seemed-”

"Your apologies were never sincere."

His eyes narrowed, something sharp lurking behind the blue of his orbs.

"I was a boy who craved your attention."

Luckily, you swallowed your exclamation in time, but your eyes gave you away. It didn't even cross your mind. Was Satoru one of those clumsy boys who showed his affection with jokes and hair-pulling?

His humorless chuckle brought you out of your thoughts.

"Besides, your mother was going to marry you off to Naoya Zenin."

This time you were speechless, clueless.

"He's known for being a misogynistic swine, so I guess you're welcome."

"Satoru-...I…"

His eyes lit up. Damn, he reaaaaaaally liked the way his name rolled down your tongue.

"I think I finally have your attention, don't I, dear?"

You blatantly ignored his last comment, and he could have thrown a fucking tantrum then and there but instead summoned all the patience that he had and waited for you to recover, you were too shocked, too dismayed. Too many revelations in such a short time.

After what felt like five minutes, Satoru pursed his lips and suddenly had a naughty idea.

“Come on, (Y/N). The sooner the party's over, the sooner the honeymoon can begin.”

You whipped your head at him so fast, he heard your neck crack, and slowly, very slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched in repressed amusement, and you suddenly realized he was teasing you.

“Brat.”

*READ THE COMPLETE 10,000 WORD COMMISSION IN MY PATREON (Includes heavy/possessive/husband-wife smut and NSFW artwork from scenes of the fic. Plus, lot of JJK NSFW content in general)

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jjk4isen · 11 months ago

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ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

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3rdgymbros · 8 months ago

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━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈, 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

— pairing; itoshi sae x reader

— summary; in which you and sae meet again in japan after a messy breakup in spain. set in the blue lock manager au.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s not really something you like to broadcast, how you and Sae were close when you were in Spain with your parents for that brief, wonderful period of time. While he honed his skills with football, you would balance your studies while helping out at Re Al.

❋ Things had been so simple back then. Late-night walks in Madrid, your fingers intertwined with his. Sneaking kisses in quiet corners, away from prying eyes. Sharing popsicles and everything else. Sae was cold to the rest of the world, his softness reserved entirely for you.

❋ You were each other’s first everything — first kiss, first love, first heartbreak.

❋ Some part of you had to have known that this was only temporary, considering how often your parents travel for work. But it still comes as a shock to you when you parents abruptly decide to return to Japan to help fund the Blue Lock project.

❋ And Sae, so full of potential. Sae, whose career is finally taking off. You aren’t about to let him leave it behind; and Sae, too driven, too focused on his dreams, wasn’t about to throw it all away and return to Japan either. Not like this. Not for you.

❋ You hadn’t expected to see him at the airport to see you off. Sae’s expression was closed off, and it was like the two of you were strangers once again, the distance and silence already stretching endlessly between you. As if your relationship had never existed in the first place.

❋ The breakup was messy, yet silent. Both of you knew instinctively that this was the end. And just before Sae left without looking back, his final words to you were, “If you’re going, don’t expect me to wait.”

❋ The last image you have of him is his retreating figure, back rigid, leaving as the words die on your lips.

❋ And that was that.

❋ You’d returned to Japan with your parents to work as a manager at Blue Lock (Ego had agreed to take you in under the promise of free labour, apparently). Ego’s lectures aren’t fun, but you’re actually learning something under him and Anri when you’re not being driven insane by a group of rowdy, immature teenaged boys.

❋ You try really hard not to think about Sae. Even if the occasional headline reminds you of his burgeoning career in Europe. But the memory of him is a quiet ache in your chest that surfaces in random moments — when you see the colour teal, or hear a song he’d used to like.

❋ You’ve been to JFA headquarters only once or twice before, but it’s bustling with activity as always. Your purpose here is purely business; you’ll act as a secretary for Ego and Anri while they finalize plans for the U20 match with the top brass.

❋ You didn’t think that he’d be there.

❋ Right at that very moment.

❋ In that very room.

❋ Fate is cruel, sometimes.

❋ He looks . . . The same, yet somehow different all at once. His hair’s a little longer, his expression sharper, but those piercing green eyes haven’t changed at all, and the realisation makes your chest throb painfully all over again.

❋ You wonder how you appear to him, underneath your professional blazer and veneer of carefully controlled calm. Does he think you still look the same? Or does he think that you’ve changed, become a total stranger to him, much like how he is to you right now?

❋ His gaze is intense, scorching. You can feel it the second you enter the room, but you keep your head down and try to pay attention to the meeting. (The thought of having to present incomplete notes to Ego certainly does a marvellous job at helping you focus.)

❋ A breath of relief soughs out of you the moment the meeting ends. Quickly, you gather your things, following Ego and Anri out the door. You’re eager to avoid the lingering eyes of the association’s board members.

❋ And perhaps most of all: you’re eager to avoid unnecessary small talk with Sae.

❋ But you catch a final glimpse of him out the corner of your eye; Sae, still staring at you. His expression seemingly softer, almost hesitant. It’s almost as if he wants to call your name, to stop you from leaving, but something — Pride? Anger? — holds him back.

❋ The door to the meeting room clicks shut behind you with a cold finality, and this time, you’re the one leaving first.

#sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi imagines #sae itoshi headcanons #sae itoshi angst #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi reader insert #blue lock imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock reader insert #blue lock x y/n

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0silver0dreams0 · 2 months ago

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His Love

Your name was carved into my bones long before you ever spoke to me. I would rip the stars from heaven if it meant you'd never leave. If I must chain you to my side— so be it. Love was never kind.

Warnings: This story includes dark themes and intense emotional content, incest, bastardy / legitimacy issues, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

When Aemond Targaryen falls in love, he doesn’t simply fall—he descends, headfirst, heart ablaze, dragged by the weight of obsession and longing. His love is never gentle, never quiet. It’s ferocious, possessive, and utterly consuming.

Whether you are his sister, his niece, or merely a maid, his fixation manifests differently, but the outcome is always the same: once he’s chosen you, you belong to him. There is no escape, no forgetting, no mercy. His affection is a curse and a crown—worship and ruin intertwined.

He is not someone who simply desires—you cannot reduce what he feels to wanting. It is needing. And when he receives even the faintest hint of tenderness—a glance, a touch, a kiss on the cheek—it’s enough to shatter whatever self-restraint he once had.

Some say he would never betray his family for a woman. But they forget Aemond has never truly known love—not the kind that softens your voice and makes your chest ache when someone leaves the room. He is the favourite of his mother, yes, but he has always been a weapon, never a boy held close.

And if someone—you—offer him something he’s never had? A promise. A kiss. A whispered vow of devotion. Then yes, he’ll choose you. Every time. Because what’s a kingdom, what’s loyalty, compared to being wanted?

But it’s not simple—not always. There’s a particular cruelty in the way fate tempts him. If you are his niece, worse: a bastard, born of the very bloodline that mocked him, scarred him, took his eye, then loving you should feel like poison. He tells himself he should hate you—must hate you. But every time he sees your face, the war inside him rages louder.

And if you’re his sister... then the blood only makes it stronger. The Targaryens have never feared closeness. And to Aemond, you are not just kin—you are perfect. The way you understand him, the way you look at him and still stay. That cannot be coincidence. That must be destiny. So yes—he loves you. With a hunger that burns. With a violence that simmers under the skin. But love like this never leaves room for freedom. Only for possession.

Sister!Reader

With you, it’s different. He does not have to invent excuses for his obsession. The blood you share is sacred—dragonblood. He looks at you and sees what was always meant to be: silver hair, violet eyes, fire-born hearts that beat as one.

From childhood, you were his calm, his keeper. The only one who never flinched from the storm in him. You held his hand when he returned from Driftmark. You never looked away from the scar.

You are the only thing that makes him feel.

But as you grew older, more beautiful, more powerful, Aemond's love twisted into something feral. Now, his thoughts of you are laced with need, raw and desperate. He dreams of waking with you in his bed, your body wrapped in green silk and his hand resting protectively over your womb. His heir. His wife. His only.

He will kill for you. Bleed for you. Even marry you.

And if you protest—if you dare suggest it’s wrong—he’ll only smile.

“Blood of my blood,” he’ll whisper. “There is no sin in loving what was always mine.”

Niece!Reader (Bastard)

It’s torment, truly. Every time he sees your face, he remembers the boy he used to be—the one whose eye was carved out under the cold stare of your brothers. You wear their blood, their bastard legacy, and yet… he cannot stop looking at you.

He tells himself he should hate you. And he tries. Gods, he tries. But you smile at him once—just once—and it haunts him for days.

He follows your steps through the Keep, always in silence. Watches the wind play with your hair. Imagines what it would be like to press you against the wall, to kiss you until your bastard name disappears from your lips. Sometimes he dreams of you in his chambers—wearing green, swearing loyalty, begging him to never let go.

He knows it’s treason. He knows it’s madness. But he also knows that no one else will ever have you. He’s already claimed you—in thought, in breath, in blood.

And yes, he would betray them all for you. His mother, his brother, even the crown—he would leave it all behind if you only looked him in the eye and whispered that you were his. That you wanted him, and no one else. For a kiss, for a promise, he’d set the world on fire and walk through the flames just to stand by your side.

If he has to burn your brothers to the ground to make you his… then so be it.

Maid!Reader

He never notices the other servants. Never learns their names. But you… You were kind to him once. You bowed your head and whispered, “I’m glad you’re well, Prince Aemond.”

That was all it took.

From that moment, he watched you. Every morning. Every dusk. He learned the way your hands folded towels. How you whispered softly to yourself while cleaning his room. How your lashes fluttered when nervous.

At first, he let you live your life. But the thought of another man touching you—speaking to you—consuming you—became unbearable.

So he started controlling your shifts. Speaking to the Head Maid. Making sure no one else touched you. You only clean his chambers now. You only serve his table.

And when you try to leave early, he stops you.

“Why do you run, little dove?” “You serve me, don’t you? Then serve only me.”

He doesn’t need you to love him. Not yet. But he’ll make you need him. And once you do—once you look at him with something more than fear—he’ll never let you go.

Taglist:

@ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken @ceramic-raven @eissaaaa @moodyblueberrytree @xadaboo @labryel @zoeyburton@hopingtoclearmedschool

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gyu-tori · 7 months ago

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Fleur de Destin | Valentine's Special

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ In a world where flowers carry the threads of destiny, five universes intertwine the lives of strangers whose fates are sealed by a single bloom. Each flower holds a meaning, a secret, or a curse, shaping the paths of those who encounter them. From love destined to wither, to bonds that flourish against all odds, the series explores the delicate balance between choice and fate. With each tale, petals fall, revealing that sometimes, destiny blossoms in the most unexpected way.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Wild Roses | C.YJ by @apeachty

⇢ Wild Rose — a symbol of immortal love or a union that will never fade, not by time, nor by death.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ The world was cruel, binding you and your soulmate through pain; crueler still when that bond shattered. but perhaps, at last, it has shown mercy—sending you another lost soul, with a bond just as broken and hope just as fleeting.

(Divided into 3 Chapters!!)

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Daffodils | C.SB by @yunverie

⇢ Daffodils — signifies rebirth and new beginnings.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Love is a disease, untamed and relentless. Soobin loved you—so fiercely, so tenderly—that it rewrote the boundaries of his existence. You made flowers bloom within him, vibrant and alive, yet laced with quiet devastation. As the petals took root, slowly consuming him, he clung to the beauty of it all, for what is love if not the sweetest kind of ruin?

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Rain Lilies | C.BG by @dawngyu

⇢ Rain lilies — the peak after the rain, a promise of new beginnings.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn't really… exist.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Blue Hydrangeas | K.TH by @bamgyuuuri

⇢ Blue Hydrangeas — symbolize heartfelt emotions and a deep, sincere affection.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ In a world of soulblooms, your bare wrists hid your guarded heart—until an accidental touch with taehyun awakens a blue hydrangea on your grasp.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ Red Poppies | H.K by @gyu-tori

⇢ Red Poppies — often signifies a state of tranquility, sleep, and dreamlike experiences.

˚₊ · ➳ ❥ When soulmates are found in dreams, your nights remain empty—until someone with a broken bond helps you search. As dreams clear, unexpected feelings emerge. Are soulmates really just predestined, or can fate change mid-course?

Taglist: closed!!

Notes: This is our first ever collab event and it's something that we are so excited to work on and share to everyone. Give every writer in this event all the love and support you can!! We can't wait for the release!!

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yeonmuse · 9 months ago

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ENHYPEN MASTERLIST

──────── (𝓎𝓂) TEXTS & HEADCANONS REQS

HEESEUNG

Curtain call | Heeseung social media series, part of my Enhypen University event ꩜ ☁︎

Teach you how to worship | Heeseung oneshot, Heeseung is sick of yearning from you from afar, thankfully fate presents him with the perfect opportunity to worship your body and do all of the things your ex boyfriend Jake would never get to. 18+

JAY

Burning memory | backrooms au, being trapped in a place deep in his subconscious, memories of his past are consuming him little by little and he wasn’t sure what was real anymore, he was alone but for some reason he kept hearing soft whispers in the hallways, the sound of your voice was haunting him and he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave you again.

Avalon | Jay social media series, favorite guitar gets stolen, breaking his heart and forcing him to to buy a new guitar from the music store downtown. While on a search for a new set of strings he has a chance encounter with one of the stores employees and finds there’s more to her that meets the eye. Eventually his visits to the store become more frequent as he now spends most of his time trying to convince her to join his band. Though things only grow complicated when old flames return and drive a distance between the two of them once he finally gets closer to her heart.

JAKE

Girl of my dreams | Jake oneshot, he’s had a crush on the reader for a while

SUNGHOON

Haunted | Sunghoon oneshot, he’s being haunted by his past that he can’t seem to let go of.

Love on the rink | Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little girl shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to his older sister. Now starting to develope some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well. ☁︎ ꩜

Did I cross the line?| Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like involving himself with those at Chaconne academy, but when he finds out his little sister’s music teacher attends and she starts getting a little too close she forces him to let his guard down.

SUNOO

Coming soon

JUNGWON

Decelis Academy | (fts ot7) Jungwon vampire au series, he and the reader had known each other since they were children, but friends become strangers and secrets become harder to keep as the two grow older. ( VAMPIRE AU )

Can you hear my heart | Jungwon social media series, part of my Enhypen University Event ☁︎ ꩜

The space between heatbeats | He made you a promise, no matter where the stars led him he would always return home to you. Sometimes fate tests promises and the stars don’t always align how you planned. 365 days, thats how long he’d been stranded. A year of aimlessly drifting through space, confined to the infinite stretch of stars and sky. Nothing there but time and distance, distance that keeps him awake at night for the heart-wrenching fact of knowing that distance kept him from you. Lightyears away from the one he loved, and your intertwined fates were left at the unpredictable will of space. Your hearts that once beat at one, were miles apart an unspeakable space between them.

NI-KI

Limerence | Niki written series, Amongst struggling to find his own identity niki is also forced to deal with newfound feelings for the country girl whose parents owned a hot spring in the country side.

Dark beach | Niki wants to be the reason she smiles, even when he himself is falling apart he wants to be her safe place.

Chrome hearts don’t break | Ni-ki finds himself yearning for the quiet girl in his art class. Only problem is she’s far too lost in her art to even realize he exists, she expects nothing but perfection in her life and he’s the missing piece of the puzzle thats all but the perfect fit. No matter how clear she makes it that she wants absolutely nothing to do with him he’s persistent in trying to get her to loosen up.

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22ayla21 · 2 months ago

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Sweet Mischief

A little bit of mischief between father and daughter landed him in trouble with his beloved wife.

Years flew by like petals carried on a spring breeze, leaving behind only tenderness and fragrance. She and Hugo, whose fates had once intertwined so intricately under a veil of mystery and danger, were now husband and wife. Their home was filled not only with the scent of freshly cut flowers, which she still adored, but also with cozy warmth, laughter, and, of course, the sweet aroma of baked goods. For they had a daughter—a little princess with her mother's eyes and her father's golden mane of hair. They named her Serena—in memory of the one who had once been Hugo's only light in impenetrable darkness.

For Hugo, Serena was the center of his world, his little universe. He cherished her madly, protected her from any troubles, and was ready to move mountains for her smile. In her, he saw the continuation of all the best in his life, the embodiment of that pure kindness that had once drawn him to his wife. And, of course, he couldn't miss the opportunity to pass on some of his unique "skills" to his precious little one.

One of Hugo and Serena's favorite rituals became "Operation 'Cookie'." His wife, knowing his struggle with sweets, tried to bake things that their daughter would like but that wouldn't cause Hugo cravings or aversion. Usually, it was delicate fruit-filled cookies or light biscuits. And so, when the woman, having finished her culinary masterpieces, went to another room for her own affairs, the real fun began.

Hugo, with a cunning glint in his multicolored eyes, took Serena's hand and whispered his lesson.

"See, princess? Mama's distracted," he dramatically whispered, putting a finger to his lips. Serena, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, nodded, mimicking his serious expression. "A true phantom thief must be as inconspicuous as a shadow and as fast as lightning. First, reconnaissance."

He carefully stretched his neck, peeking around the corner as if surveying an impregnable fortress. Serena, imitating him, also tried to peek, but due to her small height, she could only see the wall. Hugo suppressed a chuckle.

"Now—under cover. Crawl, my little accomplice, crawl!" He got down on all fours, and Serena happily crawled after him, giggling. Their path led through the living room, past sofas and coffee tables where books and vases of flowers usually lay.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Hugo again put a finger to his lips. "There it is, the treasure!" His gaze fell upon the plate of cookies on the table. "The main thing is to act silently. Carefully, like this."

He demonstrated how to silently climb onto a chair and how to gently take one cookie without disturbing the others, and how to just as discreetly put everything back in its place. Serena, with her tiny hands, repeated his every move, and her face glowed with pride when she managed to snatch her own cookie.

"Well done, my little Mockingbird!" Hugo whispered, winking proudly. They were about to retreat with their bounty when a soft but firm voice came from around the corner:

"At it again, my dear little thieves?"

Hugo and Serena froze, caught off guard. The mother of the family stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, that familiar cunning smile playing on her lips. There was no trace of annoyance on her face, only endless love and tenderness.

Serena, caught red-handed, quickly hid the cookie behind her back, but the crumbs on her cheeks and her satisfied smile gave her away completely. The woman shook her head, walked over to her daughter, and gently took her hand.

"Let's see what you're hiding there, my little bandit?" She gently tickled Serena, who, with a squeal of delight, handed her the cookie, which immediately melted in her mouth.

"And you, my dear?" His wife turned to her husband, whose eyes were now full of guilty but charming pleading. "I don't seem to see you with a cookie in your hands. But the plan was yours, wasn't it?"

Hugo put on the most innocent face he could manage. "I was merely teaching our daughter important life skills, my dear. Knowledge is power, you know."

"I know, I know," his wife smiled. "And for those very 'important life skills,' you're going without kisses until the end of the day."

Hugo's eyes widened in horror. This was the harshest punishment his wife could devise for him. The absence of her tender touches and kisses was more terrifying to him than any prison sentence.

"But, my dove! That's... that's cruel!" he exclaimed, trying to embrace her, but she deftly dodged him.

"Not this time, my dear Mockingbird," she replied with a smile, heading towards Serena to wipe the crumbs from her cheeks. "And you, my little princess, can have another cookie if you promise to share with Mama."

Serena nodded happily, while Hugo, sighing resignedly, watched this idyllic scene. He, the phantom thief, the leader of the "Mockingbirds," a man who could steal anything from anyone, was utterly powerless before his wife and daughter. And in this powerlessness, in this unconditional love, he found his greatest happiness. For despite all the complexities of his past, all the wounds he carried within him, his life was now full of light, warmth, and sweet, though forbidden, moments shared with his family. And he knew that for them, he was ready for anything—even to go without kisses until evening.

#zzz x reader #zzz #zzz hugo vlad #hugo vlad x reader #zenless zone zero x reader #hugo vlad

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arrowthrewme · 28 days ago

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WARNING: Male reader intended, but could be read as gender neutral, nonbinary yandere, yandere behaviour, stalking, implied murder, stealing, isolation

Unhealthy Obsession

Trad Yan, who still remembers the day your fates intertwined. Such a seemingly simple day, yet now that they thought about it more, they were pretty sure the sun had been shining much brighter that day. How could it not? You were gracing its presence!

Trad Yan, who quickly started stalking keeping you safe. Ruka couldn't have you get hurt! And they got to know you more; it's a win-win situation

Trad Yan, who found your gym shirt on the ground. God, their heart was beating so fast and head was reeling! Only you could make them react that much~

Trad Yan, who started keeping a journal for every little thing about you. Your routine, favourite everything, and even how you liked to sleep. He even printed out some wonderful photos of you and put them in there too!

Trad Yan, who couldn't help but daydream about your wedding. Buying wedding magazines and looking up prices online. They had to be prepared

Trad Yan, who never felt such blinding rage as when they found you with some scum. That thing really thought they had the right to touch you? His precious sunshine?

Trad Yan, who used their acting skills to befriend those things and trick them into a false sense of security and made them "disappear" just as quickly

Trad Yan, who used their knowledge of you to befriend you. Making themselves into your perfect other half. It's like they're your soulmate or something haha...

Trad Yan, who is very clingy. Pulling you away so you wouldn't hang out with those so-called friends. Ruka is much more fun!

Trad Yan, who got into painting. Picking up on realism specifically. You were such a wonderful muse after all!

Trad Yan, whose room quickly filled with painting after painting of you. Every piece showing just how wonderful and angelic you were

Trad Yan, who couldn't believe it when you gave them a ring. A ring! Sure, they were a bit disappointed that it wasn't a proposal ring, but a dating ring was just as wonderful!

Trad Yan, who was very confused when you pulled away when they leaned down to kiss you for the first time. Did their breath smell bad? Were their lips chapped? They had that lip balm you loved in their bag; they could fit that real quick!

Trad Yan, who was heartbroken when you told them you two weren't dating. You gave them a ring! How could you not be dating?! Dear lord, he wanted to start sobbing for how stupid he felt, but you, wonderful you, comforted them

Trad Yan, who started to really "court" you (as they put it). Giving you flowers, random things that reminded them of you, letters and whatever else that crossed their mind.

Trad Yan, who jumped for joy when you asked them to officially start dating. You didn't even need to ask! Of course, they'll marry date you!

Trad Yan, who acts like the perfect partner, always there for you, never straying like the rest of those dogs and giving you affection in every way that they could. Sure, they consume every waking moment of your life, but you do the same to them! It's just what soulmates do~

#original character #soft yandere #yandere #male reader #yandere x darling #yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #my oc - Ruka #nonbinary yandere #traditional yandere #somewhat

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cheralith · 5 months ago

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—bloodflower. feat. michael kaiser || wc: 675 contains/cw: gn!reader, no pronouns used, childhood friends, soulmates au, semidark content: accidental harm to reader from kaiser, blood mention, yandere/obsessive behavior

when you turn eighteen years old, you earn the red string of fate that ties you to your soulmate that's somewhere in the world.

you meet michael kaiser at age eight, ten years before the mark appears. he's a little older than you, just shy of a few months. so when he turns eighteen, he discovers a crimson loop twirls around his finger with no end or beginning, a symbol that indicates that his soulmate hasn't turned eighteen yet. and all his eyes are on you, waiting ever so patiently for your birthday to arrive so your string can tie with his.

he doesn't think there's anyone else for him; a light in his dark world, an angel straight from heaven. his precious (and only) friend, he can't imagine that his life is tied to anyone else the way yours are intertwined since the beginning of your relationship. he's shackled to you. you belong to him. the universe simply won't allow any fate to bestow upon you and him.

but it does. and it does it all too cruelly, laughing in his face for being so naive. silly boy, did you really think you can bend fate to your will?

don't be so foolish—you should know better than to test fate itself.

kaiser is with you the moment the clock strikes midnight on your birthday. amidst the warm glow of the birthday candles, your pinky finger begins to draw a red thread around itself, looping twice before it floats in the air and stretches somewhere outward.

only the two people whose fates are intertwined with one another can see their red strings.

except when kaiser looks down at his own pinky, his red loop is motionless, still.

he goes to watch as you look in an off-way direction, supposedly where your red string is leading you. most people often uncover emotions such as surprise or anticipation, perhaps some anxiety if they were truly feeling the depths of fate.

but dread paints itself on yours when you realize you do not belong to kaiser. and kaiser does not belong to you. you two... are not fated to be together.

shakily, you look up to see a darkness in his eyes. you freeze, calling out his nickname quietly to see if he was alright.

he is not. clearly.

he snatches your hand and searches endlessly for that strike of red that mirrors his own. when he can't, his chest heaves and his nails dig into your pinky finger, as if trying to remove the string that he can't see. if you can't belong to him, then you can't belong to anyone. no one is worthy of you if he isn't.

you cry out in pain when he draws blood, another patch of red that is all the more menacing than the one tattooed on your skin. a hand finally shoves him off and pushes him against the wall with a rather painful thud. you bumble apologies to him whilst cradling your blood-streaked hand, but your words fall deaf on his ears.

kaiser can't understand. your souls aren't bounded together? but they are. they always have been. you and him have been together for ten years around each other's orbit. how could you not be each other's soulmates?

you're the one thing good in his life that he thought he'd have forever and always, so it's unfair and viciously cruel that the universe averted gracing your existence to someone else that isn't him. but he can't live like that. do everything and anything cruel to him... but don't take you away from him. you're all he has, can't you see?

he refuses to accept the fact that you and him are star-crossed. kaiser refuses to acknowledge that you aren't his. because he knows deep down that you are, and he'll make sure of it, regardless of what that stupid string tells you.

he'll use every pair of scissors in the world to cut your string if he has to, and will do everything in his power to retie it back to him.

#btw they were actually supposed to be fated but as mentioned kaiser got too cocky and thought he knew better than the universe #so this is his punishment!#tw ; dark content #cw ; yandere #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #michael kaiser #kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #✍︎ ; alice in writingland

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moonlit-imagines · 3 months ago

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Headcanons for being a speedster and dating Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff x reader

warnings: blood/injury

a/n:

prompt:

the world moved in slow motion…

oh, literally

you and peter were usually moving around the same speed. it took a while, but you guys learned to line up with each other when you moved

some said it was annoying, others said it was romantic

you couldn’t find a better way to live life

you initially met in the 70s during a pretty intense plan to break into the pentagon and free magneto from incarceration

you were a ward of professor xavier and peter was the mischievous boy you’d fallen for at first sight

“hey! no” -logan, swatting you on the arm as you zoned out when you’d first met peter

logan, who knew one possible future and might have known whose fates intertwine for better or worse

but the warnings of the man leading you and essentially your family into what could be a massacre didn’t exactly find you well

you quickly sped up and peter followed suit

“whats a place like you doing in a mutant like this?” -peter, jokingly

“yeah, yeah, you heard them” -you, smirking at not only him but the opportunity to do something like this “have you ever…been able to do this?”

“do what? talk to another person while im going fast? no, never had the chance. this is really cool. we should do it again sometime” -peter, rambling

“maybe we can if you listen to the old guys. from what the guy with the weird haircut has told me about you, we’ve got an offer you cant refuse” -you

“oh yeah? how does he know anything about me?” -peter

“from the future or something, still trying to make sense of it—hey, man, can you spare a twinkie?” -you, pointing to the wall of boxes

“take a box…” -peter, falling for you already

you sped to a box and ate while peter ran circles around your crew, the fact you were still pining after him drove charles and hank insane

and all peter wanted to do was impress you

“y/n, everyone in the world and you’re interested in the kleptomaniac. can you maybe reevaluate?” -hank

“no, i don’t think i will” -you

for the boy that agreed to help for free, they sure did want to steer you away

you gave him your number before you went your separate ways, but duty called

“well, i know where to find you” -peter, holding up the business card for the xavier school he lifted off charles when you’d all met

it’s only about 500 miles between you two, takes maybe 10 minutes

it took maybe a week for you to catch his calls, but he knew you were busy

the day you finally called back, he was bouncing off the walls (literally)

“hello?” -ms. maximoff

“hey, ms. maximoff! it’s y/n, we met last week” -you

“PETER, ITS FOR YOU” -ms. maximoff (less than half a second later the phone had vanished from her hand

“y/n! i was expecting your call ever since i saw magneto on the news, how’s it going?” -peter, pacing around the house tangling the phone cord around every single thing he could find

“pretty good, i’m still alive! lunch sometime?” -you

charles was “listening” btw but both of you were talking in superspeed so all he could hear was “MEEMEEMARNEEHLININAM” or like some other really squeaky nonsense

“how about now?” -peter “i’m down to visit new york”

“works for me!” -you, hanging up and immediately rushing to get ready

you guys got each other like no other

never wore each other out

some people told you to “slow down” but they didn’t see the world from your point of view

speed was a good thing when two people experienced it together

“hey, wait. too fast, i cant understand you” -you when peter got excited and started talking fasted than you were going

sometimes you would slow down, when the moment called for it

and peter got a little restless

ok you both did

“this is so boring, lets shoplift” -peter

“peter!” -you

“pleaaaase?” -peter

“…where are you thinking?” -you

oh yeah charles did not like his influence lol

“y/n, i know you have something in common that very few could have, but him?” -charles

“uh, yes him, do you hate happiness?” -you

“no, i just mean that—really, y/n? it is not because i left moira!” -charles

“don’t read my mind!!” -you

“it was loud, like you wanted me to hear it” -charles

“don’t make excuses” -you

peter looooveessss gossip

especially when the school reopened and you decided to take on a class to teach and become somewhat of an RA

“ohhh, my god. one of the kids called hank ‘blue balls’ and the whole class started screaming laughing and i was trying sooo hard to be professional—how do you say ‘shut the fuck up’ to a fourteen year old in a professional way? i am stumped” -you

“‘shut the fuck up’” -peter

“you’re so right” -you

peter would visit the x mansion pretty often while you were working

brings you food and gifts and such

“did you steal this?” -you

“want to see my receipt?” -peter

“yes.” -you

*patting pockets* “i think it fell out” -peter

he gives lotta kisses

LOVES to dance but only fun fast dances where he can spin you

like if there was a dancing contest you would win

you like the slow dancing tho so you can be close to him

peter cleans your room for you while youre working

“one of the kids set fire to a desk today” -you, exhausted

“but at least you have a clean room!!” -peter

he will get very competitive about arcade games

he will NOT take pity on you

sore loser

big baby

oh, what about you? if you can’t take it then dont dish it out!!!!!!

“hahah, i beat your high score” -you

“NOOOO” -peter, who wont stop playing until he gets the high score again

you guys race

he WILL trip you to get a head start

peter luvs to share his music with you

he sings but just in front of u

when you fight, its over fast (bc you talk fast)

*more fast forward voices sounds*

jubilee once tried to record it and slow it down but it didn’t work

peters mom loved u but she was SOOOO exhausted by speedsters

“at least you clean up after yourself when you’re here” -ms. maximoff after you do the dishes for her

making peter’s sister dizzy by running around her

(she wants to be fast too)

peter fake proposes CONSTANTLYYY

you might kick him over while he’s on one knee if he ever does it for real

when the x mansion blew up, you and him were quick to evac the mansion

“are you okay?” -peter, checking you for injuries

“as okay as you are, what the hell??” -you

you were kidnapped together <3 nothing says romance like being trapped in a cage together

peter’s confession that erik was his father was a surprise to you

“WHAT?! you never told me that!!” -you

“it didn’t seem important” -peter

“oh, it didn’t seem important that your DAD is charles’s best friend who we literally BROKE OUT OF PRISON” -you

“not really” -peter

“you getting any of this?” -raven (you were speed fighting)

“not a thing” -hank

“this happen often?” -raven

“comes with the mutation. they’re lucky they found each other. nice to have someone that gets you like that” -hank, side eyeing raven

regardless of that BIG FUCKING SECRET being casually dropped, you guys took apocalypse head on

and man were you guys a unit on the battlefield

one speedster is a wildcard. two? it’s like they couldn’t keep their heads on straight

“wanna make this a game?” -peter

“what’d you have in mind?” -you

“who can punch the blue guy the most” -peter

“nice try, i’m not punching hank” -you

the jokes were fun and distracting, but you guys took quite a few hits

you were bleeding from your head and peter got really serious really fast

“does it hurt? do i need to get you back to the jet?” -peter

“yes, it hurts. no, i’m not giving up” -you

peter broke his fucking leg <3

“alright, you’re done” -you, lifting him up and taking him to safety

he felt like a pretty princess being lifted bridal style by you

“i love you” -peter

“well, duh. nice if you said it more” -you

“i will. thanks for saving me” -peter

“save it for when we get home” -you

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @dindjarinsspouse // @summersimmerus // @simp-legend // @nekoannie-chan // @groovy-lady // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #quicksilver #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #xmen #xmen x reader #xmen imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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aventurineswife · 3 months ago

Note

*clears throat* Ahem…

…Mydei with Helen of Sparta!Reader.

That is all…

Where the Winds Converge

Summary: In the mist-covered ruins of Castrum Kremnos, the Undying prince, Mydei, and the Spartan warrior, you, cross paths amid the chaos of battle. Both burdened by their pasts and bound by fate, they find an unexpected connection as they bond over their shared struggle for honor, purpose, and understanding. As warriors caught in a brutal world, they discover solace in each other’s presence, where fleeting moments of peace emerge in the heart of a storm.

Tags: Mydei x Reader, Romance, Character Development, Helen of Sparta based Reader (?), Complex Emotions, Unspoken Connection, Post-Battle Reflection.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Mentions of war and death, Intense emotional themes, Brief violence, Some existential themes on fate and destiny.

A/N: idk much about Greek mythology so apologies 🙏

Thank you for beta-reading this @sundaysconsort!

The mists of Castrum Kremnos hung heavy in the air, their tendrils wrapping around the towering ruins of the once-great city. The sky, a turbulent blend of storm clouds and fading light, mirrored the chaos that had consumed this land. Among the shadows, Mydei stood, his gaze piercing the horizon, his body as still as the mountains he called home.

You had heard the tales of Mydeimos, the Undying prince. The one who could not die, no matter the odds. A warrior whose very name struck fear into the hearts of those who had witnessed his fury. Yet, behind his cold exterior, you sensed something different—something raw, a soul burdened by his past.

You had been sent to this forsaken place on a mission of your own, but fate had drawn you to the same battlefield, where honor and vengeance intertwined. As the child of Sparta, your legacy was one of strength and pride, though it often weighed heavily on your heart. You were no stranger to battle, but there was something about Mydei that intrigued you—something that stirred both admiration and curiosity.

The wind howled as you approached him, your footsteps soft on the uneven ground. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes seemed to soften just slightly at the sight of you.

“Spartan warrior, what brings you to this forsaken land?” he asked, his voice deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder.

You smiled faintly, adjusting the weight of your weapon, feeling the familiar comfort of its grip. “I was sent to aid in the fight against the Titans,” you said, your tone steady, though the weight of his gaze was not lost on you. “And perhaps… to seek a kindred spirit among the chaos.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly, a small, fleeting smile that barely reached his eyes. “A kindred spirit?” he repeated, almost as if testing the words. “In this world of endless bloodshed, you would see me as such?”

You nodded, stepping closer, your heart beating faster with each step. “I’ve heard the stories. The Undying warrior, a prince without a throne. The one who endures when all others fall. But I see the man beneath the legend, Mydei. I see the weight you carry.”

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes scanning the land before settling on you once more. “I carry much more than you realize,” he said, his voice low. “But what is it you seek, Spartan? The gods have cursed us both. We are bound by our fate, yet still, we fight.”

You took a step forward, placing your hand gently on the hilt of your sword, though your gaze never wavered from his. “I fight for more than just victory. I fight for honor, for peace, for the ones who have suffered. And perhaps… I fight for understanding. To find a reason in this madness.”

Mydei's expression softened ever so slightly, the hardness in his eyes dulling just a fraction. He stepped closer, the weight of his presence almost overwhelming as he looked down at you. “And what would you understand, [Name]?”

His use of your name sent a strange thrill through your chest, but you did not falter. “I understand the burden of destiny. I know what it is to have the eyes of the world upon you, to feel the weight of a prophecy, a crown, or a legacy that never truly belonged to you.”

The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between two warriors who had seen too much of the battlefield to remain unscarred. Mydei’s hand twitched at his side, as if fighting an urge to reach out to you, but instead, he merely clenched it into a fist.

“The gods do not care for us,” he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “They see us as tools to be used, pawns in their endless game of fate. We are cursed to fight, cursed to die, and yet… I am the one who endures.”

“And that is why I admire you,” you replied softly. “Not because you cannot die, but because you continue to fight, even when there is no clear victory. Because you carry on, despite everything.”

His eyes softened at your words, the raw intensity that often consumed him shifting into something gentler. “And you, Spartan… Do you believe you can change your fate?”

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling with the weight of your own burdens. “Perhaps not. But I will not bow to it.”

A silence fell between you, thick with the unspoken words of two souls who understood the cost of their existence. Then, as if in answer to the storm inside both of you, Mydei stepped closer, his presence overwhelming yet oddly comforting.

“You are like the storm,” he said, his voice a mere whisper now, “unpredictable and fierce, yet never without purpose.”

“And you,” you replied, “are the one who stands against it.”

In that moment, the distance between you seemed to vanish, and for a brief second, the weight of the world faded away. You saw not just the prince of Kremnos, but the man beneath—the one who had endured more pain than anyone should have to bear. And in his eyes, you saw the same unyielding fire that burned within you.

With a soft sigh, Mydei reached out, his hand brushing against yours. The contact was brief, but it was enough. Neither of you spoke, but in that touch, something passed between you—an unspoken understanding, a promise that, no matter the outcome of the battles ahead, you would not fight alone.

As the two of you stood together, the storm clouds above seemed to part just slightly, a ray of light breaking through the darkness. And for the first time in a long while, both Mydei and you found a fleeting sense of peace in the storm.

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rika-mmendmethings · 16 days ago

Text

BLURB TIME

You're a newlywed, two years with the love of your life have been a fever dream and you can't wait to settle down with him. He's made you feel on top of the world, really. A perfect man who doesn't let you raise a broomstick by yourself or pushes you for children. He's established his own company and it's been skyrocketing in stocks and sales. You're truly happy with him.

Sylus feels like celebrating everyday ever since MC agreed to his proposal. They had now been wedded for 6 years and 83 days. He was able to rewrite his fate and unite with his sorceress. Love was a weak word to describe what he felt for her, he was utterly infatuated with her. His soulmate, his best friend, his wife. He is truly happy with her.

You bid your husband farewell as he leaves for a business trip across town.

Sylus drops his wife to the association with her bags since she was summoned for a mission across town.

Hours later, Sylus gets a call from his beloved and ecstatic to know of her well being, he picks it up. The smile drops from his face in a flash when the person on the other end isn't his wife but some officer who informs him that the owner of the phone has gotten into a car accident. He rushes to the site with panic coursing through his veins.

You're huddled in your husband's sweater, watching a movie on his watch list just for the sake of spoiling the ending for him when you get a call from the said man. You excitedly pick it up only to drop it when an officer urgently tells you about your husband getting in a car crash. You leave the TV on as you rush out of your home.

When Sylus arrives, the place is crowded and the officers pitifully tell him a ground-breaking news. Sylus isn't willing to accept that his wife died on spot. He sits by his wife's corpse covered with a white fabric, tears streaming down his cheeks. When he lifts the fabric, he's met with a cruel sight. Right beside his wife, lies a man around her age and their hands are tightly clasped in a death grip as if they knew this was their end. He's no fool, he hears the crowd behind him gossip about how the man could've been her lover. His tears flow even more now as he glares at his wife's pale face.

You push your way through the crowd, refusing to entertain the nurses or the officers and fill out their forms. Your entire world crumbles as you take note of your now dead husband and if the pain from his ultimate separation wasn't enough, your traitorous eyes flicker to the other corpse beside him, a woman. And your intution screams at you to acknowledge the truth lying in front of you but you're too lost.

Sylus' gaze is fixed on his wife's face as he mutters curses under his breath both at her and himself and it stays like that for quite some time until out of the corner of his eye, he sees a woman drop to her knees beside the dead man. She's wailing as she acreams at the people around her to somehow make the corpses' hands unclasp before finally giving up and trying to separate their intertwined hands. When after repeated trials, she doesn't succeed, she flops back on her heels, sobbing her heart out.

That's when you look up and meet the crimson gaze of a man whose eyes reflect your pain, whose entire presence empathizes with you.

Sylus feels fate laugh in his face as he deems you too much like him at the moment. He's too focused on her, eyes locked in an empty stare and so he doesn't hear the low thrum resonating between them.

As if fate has tied two people on opposite ends of a spectrum together once again in the same doomed manner.

Preview of my ANOTHER upcoming Sylus series. I need to finish one before starting another but I can't wait anymore for this. Lmk if you wanna be on the tag list for this series when it drops the first week of August. EDIT: Series put on hiatus! Might return when in demand. Some major details (like setting, characters, etc) will be altered in the main story so don't fully rely on this blurb. Also, this story isn't centred on cheating, it's js a plot device. Also (2), two strangers bonding over trauma from/ death of their spouses is a common trope.

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chroniclesofskz · 5 months ago

Text

The Alphas Mate

My first Alpha related fic hope you like.

In the bustling heart of the city, nestled among towering skyscrapers, stood the headquarters of Melodic Howl Records—a sanctuary where melodies intertwined with ambition. The man who reigned over this empire was none other than the enigmatic Chan, the CEO whose piercing grey eyes and commanding presence could make even the most seasoned music moguls tremble. Behind his finely tailored suits and stern demeanor lay a secret that few could fathom: Chan was an alpha werewolf, a being of unyielding power cloaked in mystery.

Y/N, a bright-eyed intern with an insatiable passion for music, had just received the promotion of a lifetime—becoming Chan's personal assistant. As she stepped into his opulent office, her heart raced with excitement. The walls were adorned with gold records and framed photographs of iconic musicians, each a testament to Chan's undeniable influence in the industry. Little did she know, she was about to embark on a tumultuous journey that would intertwine her fate with his in unimaginable ways.

"Good evening, Mr. Bang," she chirped, placing her clipboard meticulously on the gleaming mahogany desk. He barely glanced up from his paperwork, his gruff reply a curt, "Call me Chan." The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down her spine as she felt an inexplicable connection—a magnetic pull that transcended mere attraction. It was an urge borne from deep within, a visceral need to be closer, to absorb his essence.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N immersed herself in her work, tirelessly supporting him through the whirlwind of demands that came with running a record label. Each nod of approval from Chan ignited a thrill within her, and she began to understand the depths of his dedication to music and the fierce loyalty he held for his team. However, as the moon waxed fuller each night, something began to shift in his demeanor. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, his movements became more primal, and his scent—a rich, intoxicating aroma—grew stronger, filling the office with a heady allure.

One fateful evening, the atmosphere in the office grew thick with unspoken tension. Chan summoned her into his sanctuary, his voice deeper and more urgent than usual. "Y/N, I need you to stay late tonight. There’s a lot of work to be done." His gaze bore into hers, sending a tremor of fear mingled with desire through her. Heart racing, she nodded, knowing there was no denying the pull of his presence.

As night fell, the building emptied until it was just the two of them, surrounded by fluorescent lights buzzing like disturbed bees. The weight of unspoken words hung between them as he rose abruptly, pushing his chair back with an unsettling scrape. "Follow me," he commanded, his tone low and urgent.

Her heart thumping in her chest, Y/N trailed behind him to the far corner of the office, where shadows danced ominously around them. His eyes, typically sharp and calculated, merged into an intense glaze, hunger emanating from him like a wild storm. He turned to face her, his breath labored, and she sensed the darkness unfurling within him.

"I'm in heat," he growled, the words heavy with restraint and raw need. "The scent of your blood is driving me to madness." Panic rippled through Y/N, a shocking revelation crashing over her like a tidal wave. A werewolf. Suddenly, all the signs that had previously evaded her comprehension fell into place.

Fear mingled with an unfamiliar thrill as his hand reached for her shoulder, the touch igniting an electrifying connection between them. "I didn't mean for it to go this far," he murmured, eyes wide with torment. "But I need you. I need you to help me through this."

In that instant, an invisible bond snapped into being, a fiery thread entwining their souls. Y/N gasped as warmth flooded her being, a sense of belonging that was both exhilarating and terrifying. He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over her skin, and she felt an instinctual pull toward him. With a primal snarl, he pushed her onto the cold office table, sending papers flying as the weight of his body pressed down upon her.

It was raw, it was passionate—unlike anything she had ever imagined. He claimed her not just physically, but as his mate, and she accepted that claim without fully understanding its consequences. In the aftermath, they lay entwined, gasping for breath beneath the silvery light of the moon, the reality of what had transpired enveloping them like an impenetrable fog.

Chan’s hands roamed over her curves, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explored every inch of her willing body. He was rough, his need for her unbridled, and she met him with equal fervor. When he finally entered her, she felt herself stretched to the limits, filled by his monstrous length. He growled with pleasure, the vibrations resonating deep within her as he began to move with a feral rhythm that stoked the flames of their desire.

Their mating was an all-consuming dance of flesh, a ravenous claiming that neither could resist. He pounded into her, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. Her nails dug into his back as she clung to him, her moans mingling with his growls in a symphony of lust. The room spun around them, and the only thing that grounded her was the feel of him deep inside her, marking her as his own.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the otherwise silent office, punctuated by the occasional grunt of pleasure or gasp of pain. Y/N’s legs were wrapped around his waist, her ankles locking together as she arched her back, offering herself up to his primal need. Her orgasm built like a crescendo, a tightening coil that threatened to shatter her into a million pieces.

And then, just as she felt herself reaching the peak, it happened. Her vision swam with stars as pleasure unlike anything she had ever experienced washed over her, leaving her trembling and spent in his arms. He followed close behind, his teeth sinking into her neck once more as he reached his own climax, his roar of release a testament to the power of their bond.

The next few moments were a blur of sensation and emotion. They lay tangled together, their hearts racing in time with one another’s. Y/N felt a strange warmth spreading through her, a sense of belonging that was as comforting as it was overwhelming. She didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, all she could do was hold on tight to the man who had irrevocably changed her life.

As days morphed into weeks, the bond blossomed and deepened, but Y/N soon realised that the nature of that bond was altering her very essence. She felt shifts within her body, changes that resonated with the werewolf lineage coursing through her veins. Then came the unimaginable news—a positive pregnancy test. A human carrying a werewolf's pup.

As time seemed to stand still. Y/N's heart raced, pounding in her chest like a wild drum. Staring at the little pink plus sign, the reality washed over her in waves of disbelief and terror. She felt the echoes of ancient instincts surge within her, whispering secrets of a legacy she had only begun to comprehend.

In that instant, everything changed. The world outside faded into a blur, and the familiar comfort of her surroundings transformed into a battleground of emotions. Fear tangled with a flicker of hope, twisting her insides as she grappled with the implications of the life growing within her.

Her mind flashed with vivid images: the intensity of the moonlit nights, the primal energy coursing through her veins, and the undeniable connection she shared with the enigmatic figure by her side. What would it mean to bear a child connected to both human and beast? Would she be able to protect it from the dangers lurking in the shadows of their dual world?

As she stood there, breathless and trembling, memories of whispered legends danced in her mind. Stories of werewolf offspring, powerful yet vulnerable, revered and feared. Panic surged once more, her thoughts racing—Would she be able to fulfill this daunting destiny? What if the beast within her reared its head at the wrong moment, threatening the very life she carried?

Y/N’s breath quickened, reflecting the chaos within. Fear had quickly morphed into resolve; she recognized that she could no longer remain a passive observer of her fate. Every instinct screamed for her to fight, to seek knowledge, and to forge a path for the little life that now nestled within her. She had to embrace the transformation unfolding within her, to harness the power of her lineage and rise above the uncertainties.

With clenched fists and gritted teeth, she vowed to uncover the truth about her heritage, to learn and prepare for the challenges ahead. Whatever awaited her, she would confront it head-on, for she was not simply a human; she was a conduit of ancient magic harboring a legacy that was only just beginning to awaken. And so, with determination sparking in her veins, Y/N stepped into the uncertain future, ready to face whatever tempest awaited her and her unborn child.

When she revealed the news to Chan, the air in the room grew thick with an electrifying tension, a tempest brewing between them. His face paled, shadows deepening under his brow, as the weight of her revelation settled like a leaden shroud. “You will terminate it!” he barked, the words tearing from him with a ferocity that sent a chill racing down Y/N's spine. His expression darkened, his werewolf instincts kicking in, eyes flashing a vivid gold—each flicker reflecting a mix of anguish and rage. “It’s not safe for you, or for the pup!”

Time seemed to stretch and warp around them, the silence punctuated only by the quickened rhythm of their breaths. Y/N felt the room spiral into chaos, her heart pounding a desperate melody against her ribs. She stood her ground, fire igniting in her chest, determination coursing through her veins. “I won’t,” she replied, her voice years beyond her age, steady and unwavering like steel forged in the furnace of battle.

“Do you even hear yourself?” Chan's voice cracked with disbelief, desperation seeping through every syllable. “You’re talking about bringing a child into a world that would tear it apart! What if it is hunted? What if it can’t control the beast within? We can’t risk it—"

The tremor of fear she had kept at bay flickered at the edges of her resolve, but she refused to let it shatter her stance. “I’m carrying this child, Chan,” she shot back, the weight of her words echoing in the charged atmosphere. “This is my choice. I will not let fear dictate my future or the life I bear.”

For a moment, his fierce expression faltered, the storm of emotions swirling within him visible like a tempest brewing on the horizon. Y/N could see the battle within him, the instinct to protect clashing with the raw truth of their bond. Her heart ached; she understood the depth of his fears, the desperate need to shield her from danger—but she couldn’t back down.

With each breath, she felt her connection to the child grow stronger, a tether of possibility and hope that transcended the shadows looming above them. “You may see it as a threat, but for me, it’s a life worth fighting for. It’s our child—a piece of us, a legacy that deserves a chance.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, challenging him as much as they defined her own strength. Chan’s jaw clenched, the internal war still raging within him, but Y/N stood firm, unyielding as the mountains that rose outside their window. The silence thickened, fraught with tension, as they locked eyes—a silent understanding beginning to unravel between them.

And in that profound moment, amid the roiling storm of emotions, one truth crystallized: she would not let fear extinguish the spark of life that had begun to flicker within her. Not now. Not ever.

What followed was a tumultuous battle of wills that tested the very foundation of their bond. Chan was torn between the primal instincts of a protective alpha and the complexities of his growing feelings for her. Every moment felt like a high-stakes game, where every word exchanged was a potential turning point. He wrestled with his need to shield her, to protect the life they had created, against the burgeoning realization that she was stronger than he had ever acknowledged.

As the days passed, Y/N faced her own fears head-on. Her body stretched and shifted to accommodate the pup growing within her, each change a reminder of the life intertwined with her own. With every ache and flutter, she felt both exhilaration and trepidation, knowing the very essence of her being was being reshaped by the child’s energy. Meanwhile, the werewolf community buzzed with whispers and judgment, their disdain cutting like frost. The union between a human and a werewolf was not just rare; it was viewed as an aberration, a violation of the natural order that sent ripples of distress through the pack.

Yet each day brought new challenges, and it was within that chaos that love, stubborn and unyielding, flourished. They leaned on each other, a fragile tether binding them together amidst the storm. Chan often found himself watching her with an affection that was surprisingly tender, as if seeing her for the first time—her strength shining like a beacon in the shadows. Y/N, in turn, began to recognise the weight of the sacrifices he was willing to make for her and their child—the burden he bore as the alpha, grappling with both protection and acceptance.

As the full moon approached, it cast a silvery glow that shimmered ominously outside, the world reverent in its beauty. Yet within the stark white walls of the hospital, where Y/N had made her way for the impending birth, the atmosphere crackled with palpable tension. Each contraction began like distant thunder, growing louder and more fierce as they vibrated through her body. She gripped the sides of the bed, knuckles turning white, and with each wave of pain, it felt like a knife slashing through her very essence.

The contractions intensified, each wave of pain felt like a tsunami crashing over her, threatening to pull her under into a dark abyss. Y/N could feel the life within her shifting, responding to the primal call of her mate, but her human body was failing to keep up with nature’s demands. The room pulsed with energy, the air thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and desperation as the full moon illuminated her struggle.

"Y/N, stay with me!" Chan's voice reverberated in her ears, a lifeline in the storm. His hands were steady on her shoulders, but she could see the fear flickering in his grey eyes. The battle between his wolf instincts and his concern for her was palpable, a dangerous dance teetering on the edge of chaos.

"Chan," she gasped, struggling for breath. "I… I need you… to turn me. I can’t—" She couldn't even finish her thought as another contraction seized her. It was as if the universe itself was trying to wrench the life from her.

“No!” His voice was raw with anguish. He could already feel the pulse of their unborn pup, the future on the line, but the thought of losing Y/N tore at his very soul. “You don’t know what you’re asking—”

“Please! Just do it!” she cried, desperation clawing at her insides. “I can’t keep fighting like this.” Her body was betraying her, and the sharpness of the pain threatened to envelop her completely.

With a fierce snarl, Chan’s resolve shattered, and his love outweighed the risks that loomed in the dark corners of his mind. He grasped her wrist tightly, his canine teeth bared as he sank them into her flesh. The moment he bit her, a surge of raw power coursed through their bond, igniting a wildfire of energy that enveloped them both.

Y/N's vision blurred as her body reacted to the mixture of agony and ecstasy. The world around her dissolved, and she felt torn between two realms—the human world she had known and the feral wilderness that beckoned her. As the change began, pain erupted within her, lightning-striking every nerve, her body twisting and turning in ways she had never dreamed possible. It felt like her very essence was being torn apart, a battle raging within.

“Stay with me! Fight!” Chan’s voice cut through her trance, a grounding force in the chaos. He could sense her slipping, the toll of the transformation threatening to snuff out the light of her life. Her heart raced, but so did the desperation of his plea. With every ounce of strength he had, he wrapped his aura around her, pouring his spirit into her.

The room was a flurry of shadows and light, the energy crackling like a thunderstorm. Y/N felt herself begin to drown, the pain ripping her into shards. “Chan—” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m… I’m slipping!”

“NO!” he roared, his eyes glowing fiercely, the wolf within him rising to the forefront. With a primal cry, he pressed his forehead to hers, sharing more of his essence, intertwining their spirits. In that moment, as realms collided, she was filled with his strength, his determination, and all of his love—a bond forged in fire and pain.

With a scream that echoed through the night, Y/N shattered the barrier between human and wolf. The transformation unleashed a torrent of energy, and she felt herself explode into existence, the world around her brightening until it was almost blinding. Darkness ebbed away, the agony receding as she embraced the new power coursing through her veins.

But the surge also threatened to take more than she could give. Her heart faltered, struggling against the sheer force of the change. Chan felt it before she did, his heart dropping into his stomach as he realized she was fading still, despite the transformation. “Y/N! Please! You can’t leave me!”

He could feel her slipping away, the life within her waning even as she became something altogether powerful. She was caught between human vulnerability and wolf ferocity, struggling to stabilize. The tension in the room escalated, the air thick with impending doom.

“CHAN!” she gasped, her voice a fragile echo. With a final effort, she reached deep within, drawing from their bond. She channeled everything—her love for him, the life they had built, and the life they were about to start—with their pup.

With one final surge of power, she cried out, managing to find her voice. “I won’t give up! Not now!” The cosmic force erupted, and Y/N surged forward, clawing her way back from the brink of the abyss as she anchored herself to Chan.

The first ray of sunlight streamed through the hospital windows, bathing the room in golden warmth, and with it dawned a rebirth.

Y/N was born anew, a vibrant tapestry woven from the threads of both human resilience and primal strength. As she opened her eyes, the world felt different, sharper, as vibrant colors and sounds overwhelmed her senses. The sterile smell of antiseptic mingled with the unmistakable scent of Chan—the essence of her mate, her protector.

“Y/N!” Chan breathed, a mixture of relief and joy flooding over him. The weight of worry that had been pressing down on him for hours disappeared in an instant. He cradled her face in his hands, his thumb brushing over the marks he had left on her neck, the bond they shared now magnified a thousandfold. “You did it… you came back to me!”

The sight of him sparked something deep within her, a fierce connection that surged through her heart and ignited her soul. “I’m… alive?” she murmured, astonished, as the realization settled in. It was surreal, like stepping into a different realm where she was both herself and something far greater.

Chan’s eyes softened, but they still carried an underlying feral edge that reminded her of the wildness they had both embraced. “Yes, more than alive. You’re one of us now.” His voice held a reverence that sent shivers down her spine. “Our pup… it’s time.”

With a sudden rush of urgency, the memory of the contractions and the impending labor surged back, reminding her of the life they had created together. “The baby, Chan! Where—?” But before she could finish her thought, the muffled cries of an infant echoed through the air, a sweet melody rising above the chaos.

The nursery door creaked open, and in the soft light, a nurse walked in cradling a small bundle wrapped in soft fabrics. Y/N’s heart soared as she caught sight of a tiny face peeking from the folds, delicate and utterly perfect. The child was a reflection of their love—a blend of both human and werewolf, a miracle forged from their bond.

“After everything…” Y/N whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I can’t believe it’s real.” She held out her arms instinctively, and Chan nodded to the nurse, who gently placed the baby in Y/N's waiting hands.

Looking down, her breath caught. The pup had soft, chocolate-brown hair, with skin that shimmered faintly in the light, a sign of the power it would inherit. Its eyes flickered open, revealing the same piercing grey as Chan. The connection Y/N felt surged as she gazed into the innocent face of their child, the binding thread between them tangling ever tighter.

“Welcome to our family,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, a mix of joy and vulnerability flooding her heart. Chan knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around them both, his fierce protectiveness shining through.

“Together, always,” he vowed, his voice low and resonant. “The challenges ahead may be daunting, but we will face them as a pack.”

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