#that can make this new power not a burden and a disturbance for him and for others

[fizzseed]

every girl needs the piece of shit emotional support media she loves and writes to fix and the impeccably written, tightly plotted emotional support media she almost can't write for

[queenshelby]

Uncle Tommy (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Niece Reader

Warning: Smut, Incest, Taboo Relations, DDLG, Dub-Con

And yes, this was a request! Please comment and engage!

It was during the month of August that you moved back to Birmingham after having spent almost twelve years travelling with your mother Esma after your father died and whilst your mother disliked the idea, you were eighteen now and to put it bluntly, you were no longer a child and had to make your own decisions.

Your mother had met and married another man a few years ago, and you had no desire to be a burden on their newfound happiness so, when your Aunt Polly suggested for you to move in with either her or your Uncle Tommy, you were grateful for the opportunity.

Your Uncle Tommy had horses and you had always loved the idea of working with them, so it was an easy decision to move in with him. Your Uncle Tommy had a new wife. She was his third wife and whilst you thought that living with a man like him and his newfound love would be slightly awkward, you settled in easily. 

After a few days, you began to feel more comfortable in your new surroundings, enjoying your work with the horses and even though you had not seen your Uncle Tommy for over 12 years beforehand, he seemed genuinely happy to see you.

You came across as bright, intelligent and respectful and found yourself in your uncle's office quite often, helping him with paperwork and other business-related tasks. However, there was something peculiar about your Uncle Tommy. Something that made you feel slightly uncomfortable but also somewhat exited when he was around, although you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

He was a mid-forty-year-old attractive man with a commanding presence, handsome, with piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair. You never remembered him like this from your childhood. Now he seemed to have acquired a distinguished elegance - a byproduct, perhaps, of his wealth and power.

It wasn’t just his looks, but also the way he carried himself. Confident, commanding, yet respectful. He treated you like an adult and didn’t hesitate to give you the responsibility you craved.

But then, occasionally, you felt as though he made some advances towards you which you were not sure whether or not you should reciprocate. He was your uncle after all. He was a married man, and you were in a relationship with a good young man who happened to be working in your uncle's factory. 

On occasion, your uncle would put a stray hand on your waist, his fingers lightly tracing your curves as he leaned in close to whisper something mundane, his warm breath tickling your ear in a way that made you shiver.

You would quicken your pace, eager to escape the alluring pull of his nearness and return to the comfort of your own room. However, sometimes, you got lost in the moment, in his mesmerizing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through you.

One evening, after a particularly long day of work with the horses, you found him in the study.

He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pen in the other. His eyes were focused on some documents in front of him, his brow furrowed in deep concentration.

"Uncle Tommy," you said softly, not wanting to disturb him.

He looked up, his gaze softening as he took in your appearance. You were wearing a simple dress that hugged your curves and showed off your legs. Your hair was loose around your shoulders, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks under his gaze.

"Come in, Love," he said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of his desk. "What can I do for you?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," you said finally. "It's about James, the young man I am seeing," you told him, causing him to furrow his eyebrows.

"What about him?" your uncle asked , setting his glass aside and giving you his full attention. There was a hint of something in his tone that you couldn't quite place, but it made you feel slightly uneasy.

"Well," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "I just wanted to let you know that we're getting serious. I think we might even get engaged soon which means that, maybe, I would be moving in with him."

Your uncle's expression didn't change, but you saw a flicker of something in his eyes that made you feel uncomfortable.

"Love, you are fucking 18 years old, " he said, his voice low and controlled. "You should not be making decisions like that yet," he said honestly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled under his chin as he looked at you thoughtfully.

"I respect your feelings for this young man," he said finally. "But I urge you to be careful, eh? Don't be a fool. You are a fucking Shelby and you  do not commit yourself to just anybody," your uncle said and you sat there in silence for a moment, digesting his words. You knew he was right, of course. You were young and had a whole life ahead of you. You should not make any rash decisions, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

"I understand Uncle Tommy, but I really love him,"  you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your uncle chuckled in response before leaning over the desk and caressing your cheek.  His touch was gentle, but the heat of it sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and danger at the same time.

"You are a beautiful young woman Y/N, " your uncle said, his voice dripping with suggestion. "And you deserve much better than a factory worker like him who seems to have no fucking aspirations to become anything more, eh," he added, his fingers tracing your jawline.

His fingers lingered longer than necessary, and you felt a strange heat spreading through your body. You knew you should pull away, but you couldn't bring yourself to move. Instead, you felt yourself leaning into his touch, your heart racing as your mind filled with forbidden thoughts just before his wife walked into the study.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt," she said as she entered the room, her eyes flickering between you and your uncle.

Your uncle quickly withdrew his hand, his face becoming impassive as he greeted his wife with a warm smile.

"No, it's alright, love. Y/N and I were just having a discussion about her future," he said, his voice betraying no emotion.

You quickly stood up, eager to escape the tension in the room, but you took what your uncle had said to heart. You knew that he was right and, over the next few weeks, the relationship between you and James became strained.

A few weeks later...

It was around 10 o'clock when you heard a knock on the door of your bedroom. You were sitting on your bed, reading a book and trying to clear your mind. 

"Come in," you called out, setting your book aside and straightening your posture as the door opened and your uncle stepped inside.

He looked striking as ever, his hair perfectly styled and his suit tailored to perfection. His eyes scanned over you in a way that made you feel both excited and slightly uneasy.

"Uncle Tommy, what are you doing here?" you asked as he entered your bedroom, closing the door behind him, before sitting down by your side.

"I just came to check on you, Love," he said , eyes gleaming as he looked at your young and naive figure. "To see if you were doing alright," he continued, running his fingers ran through your hair. "Frances told me that you have been having some problems with this boy you were seeing," he then admitted  , with a hint of concern in his voice.

You couldn't help but feel grateful for the attention, and somehow, comforted. You thus sat up next to him, wearing nothing but your satin nightgown, confiding about what happened between you and James.

"We had a little argument because he wants things that I am not ready for, you know. So, I have distanced myself a little from him for now and it's really making me sad," you answered honestly, and your uncle nodded before resting his hand on your bare thigh. 

Your uncle's touch sent a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, his skin was warm and rough, you leaned in slightly towards him, letting out a soft sigh.

"Well, I told you before Love, you deserve better than a boy like James fucking McFallon, eh," your uncle said with a gentle voice, running his fingers up your thigh, causing you to shiver.

"Now, tell me though Sweetheart, he didn't make you do anything you didn't want to do, did he? Because if he has, then I will need to deal with him,"  Thomas said, his voice a low growl.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and safety in your uncle's presence. You knew that he would always be there for you and protect you from anything that could harm you.

"No, he didn't. I just didn't want to take the next step with him yet," you said softly, looking up at your uncle.

His fingers were still tracing their way up your thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

"And he hasn't touched you in any placed you didn't want to be touched, has he?"  Thomas asked, looking into your eyes with that piercing blue gaze.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, in your rather naive mind, causing your uncle to chuckle.

"I mean, he hasn't touched you down here without your consent , has he?" Thomas clarified, his hand vaguely brushing over your clothed sex.

You felt a sudden heat rising to your cheeks as your uncle's words finally sunk in.

"No, he hasn't. I wouldn't allow it," you said, but your voice wavered slightly, giving away your uncertainty as your uncle's eyes gleamed as he nodded his head, pleased with your answer.

"Good, because if he had touched you right there without your consent, then would have had no choice but to fucking cut him, eh?"  Thomas said, as he gently caressed your cheek with one hand while rubbing his fingers over your panties with the other, before pulling the fabric to the side. 

You froze almost immediately , tensing up as you tried to comprehend what your uncle was doing.

"Uncle Tommy, you shouldn't touch me down there, I think," you stammered while, at the same time, inadvertently spreading your legs.

"You are right Love, I probably shouldn't. But doesn't it feel nice when I touch you there?" Thomas whispered as you rubbed his thumb over your clit, creating a strange wetness between your folds.

"It feels really weird, Uncle Tommy," you moaned as your uncle started to move his thumb in a circular motion, building up a strange and unfamiliar ache in your lower belly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas asked, his voice husky and full of desire as he slowed down his movements, waiting for your answer.

"No, don't stop," you panted , your body coming alive under his touch.

Thomas smiled and resumed his previous pace while feeling himself grow hard beneath the confides of his pants.

"Do you think I could have a closer look at your treasure, Sweetheart? I would love to see that beautiful little hole of yours now, because it is getting so nice and wet for me,"  your uncle whispered in your ear while slipping his fingers under the waistband of your panties.

"Uncle Tommy, I don't know if that's a good idea," you said, gasping slightly as you felt your uncle's fingers touch your intimate areas.

"I promise, Love, I will make you feel really nice down there," Thomas reassured you, sliding his index finger over your wet folds. 

"Okay , but just this once," you agreed, reluctantly but with a hint of curiosity in your voice.

"Good girl. Why don't you lie down for me , Love?" Thomas suggested, removing his index finger from your wetness and giving you a soft pat on your bottom, encouraging you to lie back down on the bed.

You didn't resist and followed your uncle's instructions, biting your lip as he slipped off your panties, leaving you bare before him.

Thomas couldn't help but admire the sight of your body laid out before him. Your legs were slightly parted, giving him a glimpse of your beautiful, wet sex. Without warning, he then spread your labia open with his fingers, exposing your clit and inner folds.

"Such a beautiful sight, eh" Thomas whispered while gently tracing your folds with his index finger, causing you to shiver at the touch.

"You are simply stunning, Love," Thomas continued, awe in his voice as he leaned down to get a closer look.

"Have you ever put your fingers inside your little tressure box here?"  Thomas asked, his voice low and deep as he gently circled your clit with his thumb.

"No, I don't think I have," you replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and nerves as your uncle asked you such a personal question.

"Would you like me to be the first one to do it?" Thomas asked, his eyes gleaming with desire.

"I-I don't know," you stammered, feeling yourself flush at the thought. "Is it going to hurt?" you asked, biting your lip as your uncle's fingers continued to explore your wet sex.

"Only for a moment, Sweetheart. But I promise, it will feel so good after that," Thomas reassured you, before slowly and gently running his index finger over your wet sex again. 

"Okay , let's try it," you agreed, feeling yourself getting more and more aroused by your uncle's actions and words.

Thomas couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as, very carefully, he pushed his index finger inside your tight sex, feeling your inner walls clench around it.

You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, as your uncle's finger penetrated you for the first time. It felt strange and unfamiliar, but also incredibly pleasurable.

"How does it feel, Love?" Thomas asked, a hint of concern in his voice.

"It feels...weird, but also kind of nice," you replied, finding it hard to put your feelings into words.

"Good, that's great Love," Thomas praised you, as a proud smile appeared on his face. "Now, I want you to relax and breathe deeply while I move my finger inside of you, okay?"

You nodded eagerly, taking deep breaths as your uncle slowly moved his finger in and out of your sex. It was an odd sensation, but also incredibly arousing.

You couldn't believe what was happening in this moment, but at the same time, you couldn't deny that it felt incredible. Thomas's fingers were now exploring every inch of your wet sex, causing you to moan and writhe in pleasure beneath him.

"You're so fucking tight, Love," Thomas groaned, as his finger moved deeper inside of you. "But I think I can get a second finger inside without breaking your barrier," he said tentatively  , looking deep into your eyes for consent.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, but you also couldn't deny the arousal that was building up inside of you. You nodded your head in agreement, and Thomas slowly slid in a second finger, causing you to gasp at the feeling of being stretched.

"That's it, Sweetheart. Just relax and breathe," Thomas whispered softly in your ear, as he continued to move his fingers in and out of your wet sex.

The feeling was still strange and unfamiliar, but the pleasure that accompanied it quickly overshadowed any discomfort you might have felt earlier. Your breathing became heavier and more ragged as your uncle's fingers continued their slow, teasing movements.

Thomas could feel your body tensing up beneath his touch, so he leaned down to whisper in your ear once more, "You're doing great, Love. Just relax and let me make you feel good."

He moved his fingers slowly at first, allowing you to get used to the sensation of being penetrated in this way. He could feel your tight walls gripping his fingers, and he knew he had to be gentle.

"Oh God," you moaned, your head falling back as you felt your arousal build. "Something strange is happening," you admitted, as you could feel a pressure building up inside of you, along with a warmth spreading throughout your body.

"Explain it to me, Sweetheart. What do you feel?" Thomas asked again, his fingers still working their magic inside you.

"It feels good, but I feel like I am about to wet myself," you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

"That's good. This means you are close," your uncle said as he started to circle his thumb faster on your clit, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you at the same time.

"Let go, Sweetheart," Thomas coaxed you. "Don't hold back, just let it happen."

You listened to your uncle, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the sensations rippling through your body. His words were like a switch, releasing all remaining tension and inhibitions, sending you crashing over the edge in a dizzying wave of pure pleasure.

"That's it, Love. Let it all out," Thomas encouraged you with a gentle smile, as he watched you ride this new and exciting experience.

"Oh my god. Oh fuck," you moaned as your body trembled and shuddered, the pleasure radiating outwards from your core  , pooling in your belly and spreading through your limbs.

Your orgasm hit you hard and strong as you released your wetness all over your uncle's hands, leaving you panting and sweating. You squirted for several seconds, leaving the sheets soaked and you blushing with embarrassment.

"I-I didn't know that could happen," you stammered, your cheeks flushed red as you tried to regain your composure as Thomas carefully pulled his fingers out of you, resting his hand on your thigh, as he studied your expression. Your face was flushed bright red, and you looked utterly spent.

"How are you feeling, Love?" he asked softly, his voice thick with concern.

You blinked dazedly up at him and nodded slowly. "I...I'm okay, I think," you finally answered, your voice still trembling slightly as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Thomas smiled at you and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good," he said simply before standing up, leaving your side for a moment.

You watched him through hooded eyes as he walked towards the en-suite bathroom, before returning with a warm washcloth to gently clean you up. His touch was tender, caring and you ought to ask whether you had indeed wet yourself , but you couldn't summon the words. He then threw the washcloth into a nearby hamper before reclaiming his prominent position on your bed.

"Don't be embarrassed, Love. That's completely natural," Thomas murmured softly as he traced the curve of your cheek with the pad of his thumb, smiling down at your amazed expression.

"I've just never... felt anything like that before," you admitted shyly, feeling just slightly overwhelmed by how strong your reaction had been.

"It wasn't bad, though. In fact, I think I might like it," you added, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at your uncle. "Do you think I could make you feel that good too?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as you looked up at your uncle with wide eyes.

"I am sure you can, but not tonight, Love. Tonight was all about you," Thomas replied, his voice gentle and soothing. "There is no need to rush things, we have all the time in the world," he added affectionately, before pressing a soft kiss on your forehead once more.

"Now, why don't you have a rest and we can revisit this tomorrow if you like," Thomas suggested, as he tucked the blankets around you, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You watched him as he turned off the lights and left your bedroom, before letting your heavy eyelids fall closed and slipping into a peaceful sleep.

T

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[ghouldump]

Your fics are amazing!

Lestat and y/n remind me of a scene on what we do in the shadows:

Lestat: i would like to say that i think all marriage is a sham except mine with my darling wife y/n

Reader: ☺️👋

Btw do NOT feel pressured to put out content, this is suppose to be a safe space for creators and i am sure that the rest of the readers feel that way.

Kisses 💋

001

thank you 🥰 your words of encouragement mean so much to me 🩷 i prefer lengthy fics myself and so naturally i like to make my stories a bit long. i know that a few of you guys enjoy my writing and are wondering what is taking so long, so i really appreciate the understanding. i am also posting the requests at the same time, so you guys can have a few new posts to read instead of one. anyways, that so seems like him 😂 i literally came up with a tiny imagine for this 😙

“and what about you two, are you married?” the young woman asked you.

she and her husband were tourists in new orleans, choosing the city for their honeymoon. you spotted the newly wedded couple in the restaurant, they were the perfect meal for the night. although, you found them slightly interesting, forcing lestat to sit through the dull conversation.

“yes, lestat took longer than most, but we’ve been married for what feels like an eternity,” you laughed.

it had been only a few decades since you’d become mrs. de lioncourt, compared to your century of love.

“forgive me, ma chèrie,” lestat said lowly, as he kissed your hand.

“i didn’t grow up with the best example of marriage,” he said, a sly grin on his face.

“that’s a shame, my pa married my mama after only a month of knowing her, they’ve been together for over 30 years,” the husband bragged. you resisted the urge to laugh, watching as lestat went from grinning to frowning in disgust.

“you know what i find shameful? humans and their boresome matrimonies. you have no real reason other than legality burdens and for misogynistic idiots like yourself to have an at-home womb and servant,” lestat told the man, his nose turned up to him.

“that’s quite a harsh thing to say when you’re married yourself,” the young bride told him, furrowing her eyebrows.

“exactly, miss…y/n, was it? you sure have a handful on your hands,” the groomsman laughed, awkwardly.

slowly looking over at you, you smiled as you met his eyes, his fingertips softly brushing against your jaw.

“our marriage is beyond anything you've experienced in your short life, or your insufficient parents, the epitome of all things neither of your insolent brains could ever understand. your marriage is useless, nothing more than a piece of paper, and if you permit her beautiful name to even slip from your thoughts, let alone your tongue again, i will rip out your spine from-

“lestat,” you called his name, he stopped instantly, facing you.

“yes love?” he asked, his eyes softened. over the years, despite being your maker, he found himself willingly under your command, doing any and everything in his power to please you.

“don’t scare them too badly, honey, the blood will change its course, and taste funny,” you told him, your usual soft smile in place.

the couple was by now confused and disturbed, looking around for the safest exit.

“my apologies, ma chèrie,” he shook his head.

“you don't have to apologize, shall we eat?”

“ladies first,” he nodded, as you both bare your teeth, to plunge into your meals.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Hey there! I really liked the hc you did with the girls finding out about the reader's depression and was wondering if you could do one with Gundam, Fuyuhiko, and Kokichi?

Finding S/O's depression out by a breakdown

[ SCENARIO ] [ Gundham, Fuyuhiko, Kokichi ]

[ Goodbye Despair ] [ Killing Harmony ]

Sorry for making you wait so long for this!! I been procrastinating a lot little bit but I had fun writing this!! Honestly, it helps me get the comfort I needed soooo thank u ❤️

Gundham Tanaka

Despite the initial shyness and confusion once Gundham start a relasionship he does know that he loves and holds close to his heart that person (not everyone can get close to the forbidden one after all), it will take him a while to ge used to be in a relationship but even if is a slow process you can see that he actually actively seaks your company and is always happy to be with you (he doesn't even have shame to express it, but he does it in his own way)

Is just normal to care about someone is important for you, and he won't really be an exception nor even try to hide the fact that he cares about you (although, he normally just insist that he has to protect his beloved from the unworthy mortals or even from his cursed powers, even when you seem to be immune to them)

Even when he can be dramatic and eccentric he genuinely cares about you, he tent to pay close attention to you either for worry or simply apreciation, he finds some difficulties to express himself and interact with others but since he have always being taking care of diferent animals he is more more used to pay attention to the reactions, he honestly doesn't care much about others reactions and just be himself, but he cares about yours so he is contantly paying close attention to you

There is a high chance that Gundham reach the conclusion of you not being exactly emotionally alright, even if you say that you are fine he can see the sadness on you, he isn't exactly strange of such feelings but he doesn't want to be pushy or assume the worst from the start, so is more likely that he tries to remember you that you have him here for you if you ever need help and even encorage you to speak to him if there is something bothering your mind, he will use his powers to help you delete the burden without a doubt

Getting to see you having a mental breakdown is something Gundham didn't really wanted to see, not because it was disturbing or ugly but because it hurts his heart watching someone he loves so much suffering like this, there is an initial anxiety but despite that Gundham will imediatly try to help you. It doesn't matter if he found you when you were already in this state or if you broke down at his side, Gundham will imediatly try to help you out, and he is actually surprisingly good at helping you calm down by trying to create a comfortable enviroment and taking your mind out of whatever was bothering, still he won't stop you from venting all you need

Honestly, seeing you like this make him feel anxious and in distress, but he push aside his own worriy to fully focus on helping you calm down, because when you finally calm down then he calms down too

Getting to know that you actually suffer from depression may don't really surprise him but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt him, Gundham feels his heart squeezing by the news and he will be totally up to voice off his worries ti my to make you see that in this world there is someone who loves you and want to see you well

After that day Gundham will try to be more attentive over your mood and feelings, being more direct with expressing how much he worries and loves you (even when he feels incredibly embarrassed or even shy), and never fails in reminding you that you managed to pass through the cold walls of his heart, and because of that he must respond with the same care and show the love he has for you and only you

Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko

Fuyuhiko is having a hard time to adjust to be in a relationship, even when he won't be in one if he isn't 100% that he loves you and this is what he wants he is just feel troubled because he doesn't want anything bad happening to you because of him, so he mainly show his affection and love by indirect ways

For being the powerful yakuza he is Fuyuhiko has learn to read the body language of the people and to always pay attention to his surroundings, so even when he feels bad for watching your every move so intensely he just can't help but do it from time to time, specially when he suspect that something is off with you. It actually be a little difficult to hide your depression from him for how much attention he puts on you, however there is a high chance that he doesn't think that is for depression but for feeling uncomfortable or even treaten by your surroundings (is more likely that Peko is the one who think on the posibility of being something more emotional)

Fuyuhiko fears that something could happen to you so he tries to asure your safety as much as he can, directly or indirectly, he does even try to bring you the feeling of safety and security when he is around, that could lead you to feel comfortable enough to just let all those emotions you have being bottle up explode

Seeing you having a mental breakdown will be totally shocking for Fuyuhiko, he really wants to ensure your safety so watching you explore like that it just trigger him too much, he probably will just assumed from the start that you have been attacked or someone or something have threaten you, but when you start saying all those things that your mind tells you that come from the depression Fuyuhiko will be shocked again, he will even stop and just stare at you while the frustration and anger build inside if him; he is not mad at you, in the slighest, he is mad at himself for not noticing this sooner, he is mad at himself for underestimating your condition and letting himself being blinded for all those times you said you were fine, he may don't know what is like to be depressed, but he can see how much distress this causes you and he knows how bad this kind of pressure can affect a person

Fuyuhiko wants to help you but he himself is feeling in so much distress by just seeing you in this state that he doesn't really is able to think on something that can help you right now, so he just decide to try to bring you the feeling of comfort and safety again, holding you close (if you let him) and just let you vent all you need, he probably will end up showing some vulnerability too by showing you how worried he is for you

Ayer this episode Fuyuhiko will remind himself that you aren't alright quite a lot, if he wants to protect you he has to do it from that voice on your head that tells you all that horrible things too, even if he doesn't know how he is determinated to help, and the first step is to search for profesional help (he will kinda force you to seak the profesional help but he insist that is for your own good and that he will be there with you in every step of the way)

After that day Fuyuhiko will be constantly asking you how you feel and will pay even more attention to you, however he will be a little awkward and nervous about approaching the topic, so he is kinda trying to motivate you to talk about it (and seaking Peko's help too because he just feel a little incopetent in this topic)

Kokichi Ouma

For Kokichi starting a relationship means a big step because is letting someone to be close enough to have the opportunity to see him in vulnerable moments, and even if he doesn't express it much he will want for you to feel comfortable enough to do the same (he actually expect it, as if he was trying to confirm that is alright to do it by your example)

Kokichi really wants to make you happy and be a good boyfriend, he cares for you enough to let you be close to him, so he doesn't really want anything bad happen to you and that lead him to pay a lot of attention to you (also because he wants to see your reaction to diferent situations, specially his jokes and pranks)

Kokichi is really smart and observant, it won't be easy to trick him and hide things from him, so even if you try to hide your depression from him he will find out soon or later, however he may not confront you about it right away, he opt more to give you little hints to let you know that he knows or that there is something important that you should talk to him

Honestly, Kokichi is a little offended that you would hide something like this from him, your boyfriend! But more than offended Kokichi is worried, he isn't stupid nor insensitive, he knows how much damage can do to a person things like anxiety and depression and it hurts his heart knowing that you aren't just suffering from this but also you are trying to handle it alone

Kokichi is already incredibly worried about the posibility of something serious happening to you due the depression, so when you have a mental breakdown because of it is like if the world were falling apart, is just that Kokichi feels like he already knew this would happen but didn't did anything about it and now you are in this state!

Despite feeling frustrated and even slighly guilt because of it Kokichi will try to keep his composture and imediatly help you, and he is actually good at it but what he does depend on how bad is your actual stage is, going from trying to distract you, taking your mind off of whatever your mind is telling you and making you focus completely on him or to actually trying to help you catch your breath just enough to don't drown or something and let you vent

However, if the case is that he had found you when you were already having a mental breakdown it will be more difficult for him to stay composed because it hit him harder, still he will try to help you calm down at the same time as he tries to calm down himself

After this experience there is no way Kokichi will let you keep hiden and bottle up your emotions like that, even if he has to be pushy he will be constantly asking what and how you feel because he doesn't want you to push yourself to the edge like that ever again

Kokichi will indirectly suggest for you to seak help, the ideal is to seak profesional help but if you don't feel ready for that then at least let him and your other friends help you. As well, Kokichi will try to have more affectionate features with you, direct and indirect displays of the inmense affection he has for you because he doesn't want you to never forget that there is someone on the world that loves you and want you to be alright (specially when he knows you are feeling specially down)

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

The Void

This is the longest fic I've ever written. And once more Bucky gets tortured, although it is shorter than the other one.

Summary: Reader!OC Hunter tells Bucky about their experience in the Void

CW/TW: graphic-ish torture

You've been strangely silent since the fight with the Void. Bucky glances over at you as you pour a cup of coffee, lips tightly pressed into a thin line. Your fingers are curled tightly around the handle of the kettle, a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes plastered on your face when Ava compliments your coffee-making skills. This is not the usual you, gone is the cocky and sassy lover he once had, replaced by the silent avoidant person standing in front of him right now.

"You alright, love?" He murmurs softly into your ear, slipping his arms around your waist.

"I'm fine." You turn around and press a quick peck to his cheek, giving him the same smile you gave Ava. Bucky frowns, gently removing the cup from your hand.

"You don't sound fine."

"Really, Buck. I'm alright." You reach over to try and take the cup back but Bucky puts it just out of your reach, tugging you into his chest.

"I know what pretending to be fine looks like for you, you're not fooling me. You can tell me anything, I promise, love. Please, it hurts me to see you hurting." Bucky cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin. You can see the sadness in his ice blue eyes and it causes your heart to ache, but you don't want to burden him even more.

"It's nothing." You shake your head. "You have enough on your plate already, taking care of this new team. I'll be fine. Just give me a few more days."

"Love! You always come first, no matter what. We can go to the roof if you want more privacy." He presses a kiss to your forehead. "You've been avoiding me for a week now, it's clearly affecting you and I want to help."

You sigh, flesh fingers interlacing with vibranium fingers and look him in the eye. "I saw…things…in the Void. Could we go to the roof?"

"Of course, my love." He nuzzles into your hair. "Let's go now, before the others come to disturb us."

He rests a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the roof where it's just the two of you and the open air of New York City. He lies in the usual spot, patting the area next to him and you lie down, staring up at the clear blue sky.

He holds onto your hand, thumb brushing over the back of your palm but doesn't say a word. You lean into his warmth, arm pressed against his and inhale deeply. The dark clouds gather in your mind as you think about how to tell Bucky about your experience in the Void but he squeezes your hand, a reminder that he's right here, by your side and pushes the clouds away.

"How many shame rooms did you go through?" You ask softly.

"Three." He swallows hard. "Pretty sure you can guess what I saw."

He chuckles, but there's a hint of pain in his eyes, his voice laced with sadness.

"Yeah, sounds about right. Sorry I asked." You look away.

"It's because of the shame rooms, isn't it? The reason why you keep avoiding me." he murmurs.

You let out a shaky sigh, closing your eyes as you gather your courage. You feel your skin crawl as your thoughts dip into the shame rooms but you force yourself to open your mouth. You need to tell him about it, he needs to understand why you keep avoiding him and then maybe he'll stop pestering you. Besides, you did make a promise to tell him everything in return for him doing the same. You're not going to be the first one to break the promise, and he had told you about the worst shame room he'd been in when he had a nightmare about it.

"Yes." You finally manage to choke out a word. "I —"

You want to scream, to cry, releasing all the pent up anger and hatred that's directed at yourself but they're blocked by something. Your breaths start to become rapid, powers instinctively flaring but there's nothing to see. No golden afterimages, no shimmering outlines. Bucky shifts, ice blue eyes filled with concern.

"Y/N, stay with me." He places your hand on his chest. "Listen to my voice, focus on breathing. I know you can."

He focuses on his breathing, making each breath he takes deliberate so that you can feel his chest rising and falling.

"In, out. In, out." He coaxes you to follow his breathing pattern, easing you into the rhythm. You struggle to control your breathing, but he's patient, his voice grounding, and soon you're breathing with him, hands clammy and shaking. His fingers remain intertwined with yours, his warmth a sign that he's still right there next to you. Your vision clears, heart still pounding in your chest but its from the dregs of panic that are slowly fading away.

"You alright now?" Bucky reaches up to cup your cheek.

"Yeah." You exhale. "Sorry about that."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, love." He presses a quick kiss to your lips.

"About why I've been avoiding you." You decide to tell him, get the weight off your chest now rather than later. You'll have to tell him about it at some point, you can't keep avoiding him forever. "It — it's because of the shame rooms."

You remember it all as though it just happened yesterday. You remember the trepidation, your chest tightening as you stared into the inky blackness, then the coldness that washed over you as you stepped into the Void.

Then you blinked.

You know this place. You've been here a thousand times before.

"Begin."

You whirl around, coming face to face with the man you love and hate. He stares past you, as if you aren't there at all. The sound of guns firing ring in your ears and you turn to look at the row of teenagers, each with two pistols in their hands. Bodies have already started to litter the floor, the smooth white marble tiles stained crimson with blood.

One of the teenager's eyes turn golden and they cleanly put a bullet in between the eyes of another teenager. Behind them stands a young man, his back facing theirs as he takes down the woman who tried to kill him. The duo are a whirlwind of death, every bullet hitting their mark thanks to their powers. The teenager whose eyes can turn golden has the ability to see a few seconds into the future, the other has the ability to slow down time. Their powers compliment one another's, and they're the top of their class. It's no surprise that they're the ones left standing once the fight has died down.

Them and another teenager whose eyes turn ice blue whenever he uses his ice powers. The room's temperature has dropped to match that of his powers, and the other two can feel the chill seep into their bones. Frost has already crept onto their arms and legs, but they have each other's backs, and that's all they need to defeat the foe who stands before them. They move as one, one pair of eyes flashing golden while the other pair flashes silver, and the sound of two pistols firing rings in the air.

You finally let out the breath you didn't realise you were holding as a single body drops to the ground. The room slowly returns to its original temperature, now that the source of the chill is gone and the two teenagers stand over the body, looking at each other.

"Only one can remain."

You know this scene. You know how it plays out. You know that those eyes never flash silver again while the other flashes golden. You want to scream, to yell, to tell them to stop but the moment you take a step forward you're pulled back by an invisible force.

"Do not interfere." A voice hisses into your ear, sending chills down your spine. The invisible force tightens its grip, squeezing the air out of you and you gasp.

"Let go of me!" You try to fight back, but it's futile. You can only watch helplessly as a pair of eyes turn golden while the other remains a soft brown. One pistol is raised while two clatter to the floor, and a trigger is pulled.

Bang.

Your ears ring, there's muffled screaming coming from somewhere, you think it's you but you're not sure. Blood blooms from the hole in the young man's chest, a small smile permanently etched into his face.

"Я тебя прощаю."

I forgive you.

Then the horror movie repeats itself.

You scream and fight once more, struggling to stop your younger self from completing the test but each and every single time you're stopped. Your powers don't work here, you don't feel the familiar rushing in your veins whenever you activate them and you feel helpless. Tears have started to form in the corners of your eyes, springing from the frustration that boils over within you.

"Я тебя прощаю."

"Я тебя прощаю."

"Я тебя прощаю."

You've clawed at yourself until your fingernails are caked with blood, trying to rid yourself of the invisible force that's holding you back but you can't. You don't know why, you can't find the source of it and you howl in frustration.

"Я тебя прощаю."

"I'm sorry," you choke out.

Tears blur your vision.

"I'm so sorry."

"Я тебя прощаю."

You crumple to your knees, throat clogged with saliva. "You shouldn't."

"Я тебя прощаю."

The simulation keeps repeating. You want out. You need out.

"You need to learn how to forgive yourself, you know?" His voice rings in your head. Bucky.

"You need to learn how to take your own advice, you know?" You remember sassing him back.

"прощать." You whisper. Forgive.

This is your past. One of your demons given form. You can't run from it, it's as much a part of you as your powers are. You have to acknowledge it, accept it, overcome it, but it's so hard to do so. You killed the only friend you ever had, and he had let you. He had forgiven you for it.

You let out a sob, hands balled into fists.

"Я тебя прощаю."

You pull the trigger.

Bang.

You blink, and step through the door.

"Kill her." Your ten year old self stands at the door, staring at their mother.

"Kill her." Your ten year old self takes a step towards her, a gun concealed in their jacket.

"Kill her." You know where this is going.

You take a step towards the duo, then break into a run, throwing yourself between them.

"Don't. Please." You beg your younger self who stares up at you with empty eyes.

"Move aside." They say, voice emotionless.

"Don't." Your plea falls on deaf ears. They take a step closer towards your mother, hand moving towards their jacket.

"Stop, please." You reach out with a hand, ready to wrestle the gun from them.

"You can't stop it, чудовище." Your mother hisses, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Monster.

She shoves you onto the floor, staring down at you with hate and your heart breaks.

"You can't do anything."

A shout escapes your lips but she's right. You can't do anything. You can only watch as your ten year old self takes the gun out and presses its muzzle against her chest.

"ты моя миссия."

You are my mission.

"Ты моё дитя, я люблю тебя."

You are my child, I love you.

Blood blooms, creating a dark patch on her blue dress. Your ten year old self stares at the body, gun loosely held in their hand.

"Миссия выполнена."

Mission complete.

The scene repeats itself.

You have to figure out how to break this cycle, you can't stay here forever, trapped in this endless nightmare. You know it's not real, it happened in the past, but you can't stop thinking it's real. Well it is real, technically, it's just not happening presently.

You can't tear your eyes from it all. You remember this moment vividly, the first time you ever killed someone you knew. This was a test of whether you could sever bonds, whether you could put the mission before your personal feelings and you had passed it with flying colours. You hadn't hesitated, not even in the slightest, and that had made your handler proud, even if it meant you would turn your gun on him in the future.

You try to wrestle the gun from your younger self when they stand at the door but your mother wrenches it from your grasp and rams its butt into your head, causing your vision to spin. You stumble away as she hands the gun back to your ten year old self, and they shoot her.

Restraints wrap around you, holding you in place. You snarl, struggling to free yourself as the scene continues to play in front of you. The sound of a gun firing echoes in your ears, even after that part of the scene is over. You feel the leather tear into your skin the more you struggle, sticky crimson liquid trickling down your wrist.

"мама," you gasp, straining to reach her.

You are my mission.

"The people we meet along the way become a part of us." You don't know why you suddenly remember this conversation. Maybe it's because you're thinking about the way your mother used to embrace you like you were everything to her, her touch causing those memories to resurface once more. You remember the way she cradled you, whispering sweet nothings as the blizzard howled outside.

"Really? I don't…I don't know. I can't seem to feel it. My mother was kind, despite the environment she was in. I'm nothing like her." You'd looked at your hands, and though they were clean they still felt caked in blood.

"You just can't see it." He had smiled at you, ice blue gaze soft. "I promise, you are kind."

You shakily look up as your ten year old self enters the room once again, ready to severe their first bond and squeeze your eyes shut. You can't turn back the past, you can't stop your past self from killing your mother, but you can grow. You can become a better person, you can be kind just like your mother. You can be the gentle light in the darkness, shelter someone else from the raging storm outside, just like how your mother used to do for you.

"спасибо вас, мама."

Thank you, mother.

You take the gun from your younger self and point it at your mother. Once more you pull the trigger, watching as blood blossoms from the wound and life fades from her eyes. Bright blue turns dull and you let the gun clatter to the floor.

Pushing past your ten year old self, you pause at the door, turning to look back at them. They look back at you, as emotionless as ever. Your hand moves towards them but you decide to pull away in the end. You know they will learn what it's like to form bonds again, to cherish and strengthen them, to love them instead of fear them. You know there's still a spark of hope deep down somewhere in the child Hydra made into a weapon, a flame that burns, protected by memories of their mother.

So you blink and step through that door without a second glance.

You knew this was coming.

The first two rooms had one thing in common — they were moments from your past that haunted you to this day. Of course this moment would show up too. You wonder how many more demons you'll have to face before finding Yelena and Bob, inhaling deeply to prepare yourself for this room.

"Do not forget. The Asset is a tool, a weapon. Treat it as such."

Past you is older now, but your eyes are as empty as ever. You've learnt to compartmentalise your emotions at this point, and it's paying off. Your handlers don't see the pain you feel, the guilt that tears through you as you simply stand there, just as they want you to.

"Punish it."

Your past self's fingers curl around the handle of the whip, a slight tremor running through them that no one catches but you. You remember the terror that coiled in your chest, the way every part of you screamed for you to stop as you raised the whip in the air. Bucky didn't move. He didn't flinch. He simply stood there, waiting for it like he was conditioned to. The pale white scars on his bare back shone underneath the light, permanent reminders of what he's endured at the hands of his handlers.

You know what's about to happen but flinch anyways when the whip cracks as it's swung downwards, tearing through flesh with ease.

"Nineteen more to go."

More red streaks appear on already marred skin.

"Eighteen. Harder."

The whip bites deeper, drawing more blood.

"Seventeen."

Your past self grimaces, but swings the whip again.

"Sixteen."

Bucky winces at the sting but remains standing. He is a weapon, a tool. He does not feel pain, he does not feel fear. You are the heir of Hydra, an obedient child, and you will do as you're told.

"Fifteen."

Your past self continues on, shoving the guilt further down where it can't affect you.

"Fourteen."

"Thirteen."

"Twelve."

"Eleven."

"Ten."

Your past self lets out a shaky breath. It's starting to affect you to the point where hiding it is getting difficult, but still you persist, or his punishment will be worse. You know it will be. The last time you had faltered, he'd been forced to watch you be whipped, struggling against his chains until he's broken his wrist and his throat had gone hoarse from screaming.

"Nine."

A hiss of pain barely slips past his lips. His back has been torn almost to shreds, but you're nowhere near done yet.

"Eight."

Your clenched fist that isn't holding the whip has dug its fingernails so deep into your skin that it's drawn blood, but it's nothing compared to the stain that has spread across the floor from where Bucky is standing.

"Seven."

You want nothing more than for this to end.

"Six."

You want nothing more than for you to end.

"Five."

You want to end.

"Four."

Bucky lets out a cry of pain.

"Three."

Your past self sets their jaw, hands shaking.

"Two."

Bucky nearly falters.

"One."

You and Bucky scream.

"Do not forget. The Asset is a tool, a weapon. Treat it as such."

You move before you know it, putting yourself between the whip and the man you love. The whip doesn't come down, but your past self's hand does. They grab your shoulder, looking you in the eye with a dead gaze.

"Don't interfere."

You shove their hand off, snarl cut off when a metal hand wraps itself around your throat.

"Buck —"

"You can't save me. Or yourself."

The words cut deeper than anything ever could.

"I —"

"Disappear. Forever."

Your heart shatters even though somewhere at the back of your mind, you know that none of this is real. He throws you across the room before turning back around to face his punishment. A punishment he didn't deserve but accepted anyway because he was commanded to.

The whip cracks.

"Nineteen more to go."

You scream, throwing yourself at your past self.

They fight back, a well placed blow to the stomach sending you stumbling back.

"Eighteen. Harder."

Your fingers scramble for a gun, who your target is you're not sure. Do you put a bullet into Bucky's brain to save him from the pain that is to come? Do you put a bullet through your head to stop the torture? Still, the coolness of the metal seeps into your palm as it sits snugly in your hand.

"Seventeen."

You need to pull the trigger.

"Sixteen."

But who do you aim at?

"Fifteen."

You don't have much time left unless you want to see this play out again.

"Fourteen."

There's nothing left to lose, right?

"Thirteen."

You exhale deeply.

"Twelve."

You point the gun.

"Eleven."

You fire.

Your past self's body crumples to the ground and Bucky lunges at you despite his bloody back. You turn and pull the trigger again, stifling a sob. He collapses to the ground right next to your past self, blood seeping from the bullet hole in his forehead.

"I'm sorry, my love."

Unable to hold onto it anymore, your hand lets go and the gun falls to the floor, its barrel still warm.

The final door opens and you step through it.

By the time you've finished recounting your experience in the Void, you're shaking terribly. Tears stream down your face, a new addition thanks to the memories of the last shame room. Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you into the comfort of his embrace.

"Oh, love. I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

You cry into his chest, clutching his shirt tightly as sobs wrack your body.

"I'm scared," you choke out. "I'm scared that I'm still capable of hurting you."

"I'm not scared of you hurting me, because I know you won't," he murmurs softly, gently rocking you in his arms.

"How do you know that?" Your throat is thick with saliva.

"Because no one can ever force you to do anything you don't want to ever again, and I know you don't want to hurt me." He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"What if — what if deep down I —" You can't even form the words anymore.

"I know that deep down, even back then, you didn't want to hurt me. You only did so because you were forced to, because you knew that a worse punishment awaited me if you didn't." His lips graze your cheek. "I saw, afterwards, the pain in your eyes, the guilt that ate at you from the inside."

You find it in yourself to look up at him and see nothing but pure unadulterated love in his ice blue eyes. He really isn't afraid of you hurting him. He pulls you even closer into his chest, nuzzling your hair affectionately.

"I'll always be by your side." He kisses you again. "Nothing will ever separate us."

He removes an arm so that his thumb can wipe away the tears on your face. "I don't fear you, and I never will, because I know you will never hurt me."

A hiccup escapes your lips and you lean into his touch, yearning for the comfort he always provides. He gives it to you freely with a soft smile you've come to know and love, his calloused palm warm against your cheek.

"I love you." The words leave his mouth for the second time in your relationship. The first time was when you'd been on the brink of death.

"I love you too." You barely manage to say the return words.

The two of you lie like this in silence, basking in each other's presence and love. In every shame room you've severed a bond, whether it be your very first friend or your mother's, but the bond between you and Bucky is a strong one. It's stronger than the forces of the world that seek to tear it apart, it's stronger than the nightmares that plague the both of you, it's stronger than you imagined.

You listen to the calm beating of your lover's heart, a reminder that he's alright, that he isn't afraid of you or what you can do and find yourself lost in his eyes. He's looking at you with a different type of love from that of your mother, or your first friend. Your mother's gaze had been gentle, inviting, and warm. Your first friend's had been fiery, bright, and intense. Bucky's was a combination of both. You could see the gentle warmth that your mother's eyes once held, but also the intense fire that had once burned in your friend's eyes.

They weren't afraid of you, despite knowing what you could do, despite knowing that one day they might die at your hands because of who they were to you. Just like how Bucky isn't afraid either.

You let your hand rest on his cheek, tense at first but when he leans into your touch, you relax.

It feels nice, not being afraid, not being feared.

He smiles at you and you smile back.

Perhaps it's time you trusted yourself.

[mononijikayu]

night flower ─ ryomen sukuna.

Despite knowing the futility of his desires, The King of Curses couldn't suppress the ache in his heart. It was pathetic. When he thought he had long past any human desires, one thought of you shatters him whole. Everything of you was a ghost, a curse, his pain, his grief. All the things that should not be. Yet, he knew he was stuck with you. He can never bury you. Not even if he wanted to. Not even if he tried. And he hated it. He hated how this made him feel. And most of all, he hated you. He hated you, his untenable night flower.

GENRE: Heian Era to Cursed Womb Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Mild Angst, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

ashes of love

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: night flower by ahn ye eun

note: i ended up changing the song, this was so emotional!!! this sukuna story blurb is an introduction to an upcoming chapter of us and them, which i will be writing soon!!! i had to write them because they're in my brain, having an angst life. anyway, i hope you're having a good day!!! please hydrate and take care of yourself, i love you!!! <3

HE DIDN’T THINK IT WOULD EVER BE POSSIBLE FOR HIM TO BE SO NOSTALGIC. Ryomen Sukuna moved with deliberate caution through the expansive compound, his steps measured and precise, as if treading on eggshells to avoid disturbing the slumbering inhabitants. In a place where every sound was magnified, he couldn't afford to make even the slightest noise.In the recesses of memory, Sukuna was haunted by the austere edicts of the Ryomen clan, their enforcement a testament to the severity of tradition. The memory of bamboo striking palm under curfew's shadow lingered, its echo dancing through the corridors of time. 

Amidst the shroud of darkness and hushed whispers, Sukuna traversed the once-familiar paths of his ancestry. Each step carried the weight of disdain for the new moniker donned by his once-proud lineage. The rise of the Mikoto, descendants turned usurpers, cast a pall over the legacy of the Ryomen. 

To Sukuna, this renaming was a grievous wound upon the honor of his clan, a desecration of their noble lineage. The Mikoto, in his eyes, were but pale imitations, lacking the fortitude and majesty that once defined the Ryomen's grandeur. 

Yet, amidst his scorn, Sukuna was forced to confront his own culpability in the clan's decline. His defiance of tradition, his embrace of cursed power, had kindled a flame that consumed the Ryomen's glory. Now, as he treaded the silent halls of his forebears, the burden of his transgressions weighed heavily upon his spirit.

In the hallowed halls of the clan manor, Sukuna moved with the silent grace of a feline predator stalking its prey. Each step he took echoed with a quiet intensity, as if the very shadows themselves yielded to his presence. His senses, finely attuned to the symphony of the night, allowed him to discern the subtlest of sounds and movements in the darkness.

Like a nocturnal hunter, Sukuna prowled through the labyrinthine pathways of the manor, his movements fluid and deliberate. Every corner turned, every corridor traversed, was a testament to his instinctual prowess. The air around him seemed to hum with anticipation, as if the very walls whispered secrets only he could comprehend.

In this clandestine ballet of shadows and whispers, Sukuna was the undisputed master. His senses, sharpened by centuries of existence, guided him through the darkness with unwavering precision. And as he moved with silent purpose, a sense of primal satisfaction coursed through his veins, reminding him of the ancient power that pulsed within his being.

The body he inhabited belonged to a weary traveler, half-asleep and oblivious to the ancient being residing within. Itadori Yuuji was barely able to keep a hold of him, even in his slumber. And yet he supposed, it was the only reason he was alive. He scoffed. It was better than nothing. Better than being without a body. He’ll figure it out, he was certain. But until then, Sukuna's consciousness coexisted with the boy's, a symbiotic relationship born out of necessity rather than choice. He had seized control of the boy's form, driven by his insatiable hunger for power and dominance.

As he moved silently through the moonlit courtyard, Sukuna couldn't help but scoff at the mention of Kyoto, once known as Heian-kyo. Such trivialities held no significance to him; his existence transcended the petty concerns of mortals. He cared little for the names of cities or the passing of time—it was power and conquest that consumed his thoughts, driving him ever forward in his relentless pursuit of supremacy.

In the quiet of the night, amidst the ancient stones and whispering winds, Ryomen Sukuna found himself standing once more in the hallowed grounds of his past. The air was heavy with memories, echoes of a time long gone yet ever present in the recesses of his mind.

He had always known, deep down, that he would return to this place, his spirit inexorably drawn back to the land of the living with each cycle of rebirth. But to behold the familiar sights of his once-beloved home, to feel the earth beneath his feet and the cool night air against his skin—it stirred something within him that he could not name.

The landscape of his former home unfolded before him like a tapestry woven with threads of memory, each detail etched into the very fabric of his being. The ancient structures, weathered by the passage of time, stood as silent sentinels of a bygone era, their stone walls bearing witness to the centuries that had slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and cherry blossoms, mingling with the faint aroma of incense that wafted through the narrow streets. Lanterns adorned with intricate patterns cast soft pools of light upon the cobblestone pathways, illuminating the way with a warm, inviting glow.

As Sukuna ventured deeper into the heart of his former domain, he passed by familiar landmarks that stirred memories long buried beneath the sands of time. The towering pagoda, its wooden beams weathered and worn, rose majestically against the night sky, a silent testament to the enduring legacy of his clan.

The sound of running water filled the air as Sukuna approached the tranquil gardens that had once been his sanctuary, a haven of peace amidst the chaos of the world. Koi fish swam lazily in the moonlit ponds, their graceful movements a reflection of the timeless tranquility that pervaded the sacred space.

But amidst the beauty and serenity of his former home, Sukuna felt an undeniable sense of melancholy tugging at his heartstrings. The memories of days long past weighed heavily upon him, a reminder of the fleeting nature of existence and the inevitability of change.

And yet, for all the pain and longing that his return had evoked, Ryomen Sukuna could not deny the undeniable pull of nostalgia, the bittersweet symphony of emotions that danced upon the winds of time. For in revisiting the echoes of his past, he found solace in the knowledge that some things remained unchanged, eternal in their immutable beauty.

In the ethereal glow of the moonlight, Ryomen Sukuna traversed the path of his past, each step a testament to the tumult raging within his immortal soul. The air was thick with the weight of centuries, bearing witness to the ebb and flow of time itself. 

As Ryomen Sukuna wandered through the familiar alleyways of his former home, his steps faltered, caught in the delicate web of memories that enveloped his mind like a gentle breeze. Amidst the labyrinthine paths, he found himself transported back to moments shared with you, like fragile petals dancing upon the winds of his thoughts.

Pausing amidst the hushed stillness of the courtyard, Sukuna's gaze fell upon the scene before him. Though the landscape had changed, the essence of the place remained etched in his memory with crystalline clarity. Each stone, each flower, held echoes of the past, stirring dormant recollections within his soul.

In the tranquility of the courtyard, Sukuna's mind drifted back to a time long gone, a time when laughter filled the air and joy knew no bounds. He remembered the sound of your laughter, like music to his ears, as you danced with abandon in the gentle patter of raindrops. Your laughter, so pure and infectious, had once been the melody that accompanied his existence.

Yet, amidst the fleeting moments of happiness, Sukuna couldn't escape the shadows that loomed on the horizon, casting a pall over the memories of days gone by. Despite the passage of time and the trials they had faced, the memory of your laughter remained etched in his heart, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him.

As you gazed at him with those tender, doe-like eyes, a spark of excitement dancing within their depths, Sukuna found himself ensnared in the magnetic pull of your enthusiasm. Your invitation to dance in the rain stirred something within him, a flicker of longing amidst the depths of his stoicism. 

Despite his usually composed exterior, Sukuna felt a ripple of uncertainty course through him at the thought of indulging in such carefree revelry. The notion of abandoning the constraints of propriety and embracing spontaneity tugged at the edges of his resolve, threatening to unravel the carefully constructed facade he wore.

With a hesitant brush of his free hand through his hair, Sukuna wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between the allure of your infectious enthusiasm and the weight of his own reservations. In that moment, suspended between reluctance and desire, he grappled with the choice before him, unsure of which path to tread.

"Come on, Sukuna, let's dance in the rain!" You called to him, the pitch of your voice boisterous with excitement. Rain hadn’t come in a few days. You and the other priestesses in the shrine had been begging the heavens for rain water, for the harvest. And you were gladdened, the gods had listened. And you now want to celebrate. You grinned. “Come!” 

Your mischievous smile and playful insistence proved to be irresistible, gradually eroding Sukuna's resolve as he found himself drawn deeper into the whirlwind of your enthusiasm. Despite the furrow of his brows and the sheen of sweat upon his brow, he couldn't deny the tug of your infectious energy.

With each hesitant step forward, Sukuna's internal conflict became more palpable, his movements marked by a hesitant dance between desire and duty. His concern for your safety and reputation weighed heavily upon him, casting a shadow over the impulsive joy of the moment.

As you reveled in the downpour, heedless of the consequences to your brightly colored kimono or the mud that clung to your delicate attire, Sukuna felt a pang of guilt gnaw at his conscience. Your father's expectations loomed large in his mind, a constant reminder of the responsibility entrusted to him to safeguard your well-being.

Watching you frolic amidst the puddles, your laughter echoing through the air, Sukuna's heart clenched with a mixture of apprehension and admiration. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was failing in his duty, his anxiety mounting with each daring leap you took.

"I don't know about this, my lady.” He whispers back to you, as audible as he can. The rain fall was as loud as a drum beat. “You would get sick! And what if someone sees us? Without chaperones? My lady, your reputation–”

Your words resonated with a sense of spontaneity and freedom that he couldn't ignore, stirring something deep within him. You laughed and giggled, and then smiled ever so mischievously back at him. He looked at you as though you were mad, but you did not mind him very much, spinning about the puddles. He calls you, concerned about lacing his words. You look back at him, laughing once again. 

"Who cares about what they’ll say, Sukuna? My reputation? I do not care! Let's live a little! Besides, when was the last time you did something spontaneous? There’s nothing to do today. We ought to enjoy today! Drop all you’re carrying, go on. Join me!”

Reluctantly, Sukuna allowed himself to be led into the open courtyard, his footsteps heavy with apprehension as he followed your lead. The cold rain pelted down upon him, each droplet a testament to the sky's tears, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. Your hand, heavy with the chill of the rain, tugged gently at his, pulling him further into the heart of the storm.

Despite his reservations, Sukuna found himself captivated by the warmth of your smile, a beacon of light amidst the darkness of the rain-soaked courtyard. He stumbled slightly, his footing uncertain on the slick pavement, but his eyes remained fixed on you, unable to resist the magnetic pull of your presence.

As you twirled and danced with abandon, your laughter ringing out like music in the night, Sukuna felt a sense of wonder wash over him. Your smile, radiant and full of life, seemed to illuminate the world around him, transforming the dreary landscape into a kaleidoscope of color and light.

At that moment, as the rain fell around them, Ryomen Sukuna felt as though he were standing beneath a canopy of stars, each one shining brightly in the vast expanse of the night sky. And in your smile, he found a warmth and brightness that eclipsed even the most brilliant of constellations, filling him with a sense of wonder and awe.

"Trust me, you won't regret it!" You tell him, as you two are cast into the expanse of the bright grayish skies. You stand in front of him, your kimono wrapping itself deeper into you as you smile at him. You looked up into the sky and felt the rain pour. Enjoying what little tranquility you have born into the rainy day.

As the rain continued to pour down upon him, each droplet a reminder of the world's relentless judgment, Sukuna felt a sense of vulnerability wash over him. Towering over your figure, the rain seemed to amplify his feelings of unease, magnifying his fears of being seen as inferior. 

Despite his usual stoic demeanor, Sukuna's sullen expression softened into a tender gaze as he watched you, his heart stirring with emotions he could scarcely comprehend. In these quiet moments, when the world seemed to fade away and it was just the two of you, he allowed himself to entertain the fleeting hope that perhaps, just perhaps, there could be a place for him in your heart.

But the reality of their disparate stations in life weighed heavily on Sukuna's mind, reminding him of the vast chasm that separated them. He was but a servant, bound by duty and obligation, while you were the epitome of grace and privilege. He knew that he could never bridge that divide, never dare to speak the words of longing that echoed in the depths of his soul.

And so, Sukuna resigned himself to silence, keeping his feelings hidden behind a mask of stoicism and restraint. In the quiet moments between them, he found solace in the unspoken bond they shared, cherishing the fleeting moments of connection even as he kept his true desires locked away in the depths of his heart.

"This is ridiculous..." He mumbles under his breath, clutching his chest. He takes a deep breath.

As you twirled and danced in the rain, your laughter resonating through the empty courtyard, Sukuna found himself mesmerized by your infectious energy. Despite his initial reluctance, he couldn't help but be captivated by the joy that radiated from you with each movement.

Watching you laugh and dance, each step more carefree and uninhibited than the last, Sukuna couldn't help but marvel at your ability to enchant him time and time again. There was something inexplicably magnetic about you, something that drew him in and held him spellbound.

In that moment, as the rain continued to fall around them, Ryomen Sukuna found himself caught in the gravitational pull of your laughter and movement, unable to tear his gaze away. It was as if the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of you and the symphony of raindrops as you danced beneath the stormy sky.

You laughed as you twirled and nearly fell into a puddle, catching Sukuna off guard as he rushed to you. You continued to laugh as he helped you up, his face contorted in concern. “Come on, Sukuna, let go of your worries and just enjoy the moment! This won’t last forever, now!”

With a reluctant sigh, Sukuna felt himself succumbing to the irresistible allure of the moment. Despite his initial reservations and the weight of his concerns, he found himself swept up in the joy and spontaneity that surrounded him.

As he allowed himself to be drawn further into the dance, a rare smile began to tug at the corners of his lips, betraying the stoic facade he often wore. It was a small, hesitant expression, but one that spoke volumes about the emotions stirring within him.

"Fine, but just this once," Sukuna conceded, his voice laced with a mixture of reluctance and amusement. In that fleeting moment, as he surrendered to the whims of the rain and your infectious enthusiasm, Sukuna felt a sense of liberation wash over him, freeing him from the constraints of his own reservations.

As the rain continued to pour down, its rhythmic patter merging with the sounds of your laughter and the soft rustle of leaves, Sukuna felt the weight of the world slowly lifting from his shoulders. With each step he took, each twirl you shared, the barriers he had erected around his heart began to crumble, giving way to a newfound sense of freedom and joy.

Gone was the stoic demeanor he had worn like armor, replaced instead by an openness and vulnerability he had rarely allowed himself to display. In this moment, surrounded by the gentle embrace of the rain and the warmth of your presence, Sukuna felt truly alive.

Together, you danced amidst the droplets, your movements fluid and graceful, as if you were choreographing a dance with the elements themselves. The world around you faded into obscurity, the worries and cares of the outside world melting away in the face of the simple pleasure of the moment.

For Sukuna, who had known only the harshness of battle and the weight of his own past, this moment of respite was nothing short of a revelation. In your company, he found solace and peace, a fleeting glimpse of the happiness he had long believed to be beyond his reach. And as you danced together in the rain, lost in the beauty of the moment, Sukuna knew that he had found something truly precious: a connection that transcended time and circumstance, and a bond that would endure long after the rain had stopped falling.

In those fleeting moments, when the weight of his burdens momentarily lifted, Sukuna found himself immersed in a world of wonder and awe, captivated by the beauty unfolding before him. That night, when his village burned and he was left with nothing, you stood before him like a beacon of light in the darkness, offering him solace and sanctuary. Behind your eyes, he glimpsed the entire universe, and in that moment, you became his home.

You bestowed upon him a name, a sense of identity that he had never known before. With you, he found happiness, a fleeting but profound sense of joy that made him feel truly alive. Despite the tumultuous journey that followed, and the eventual rift that formed between them, Sukuna couldn't deny the impact you had on his life.

Even now, as he stood amidst the shadows of his past, Sukuna reflected on the world he had burned and subsequently rebirthed. Amidst all the chaos and destruction, he found purpose and beauty in the memories of his time with you. For Sukuna, life had meaning when you were by his side, and that truth remained etched in his heart, even as the sands of time continued to shift and change.

Despite the passage of centuries, the memory of your warm smile remained etched in Sukuna's mind like a sacred mantra, a beacon of light in the darkness of his existence. In those stolen moments of tranquility, he found solace in the knowledge that even in the midst of chaos and turmoil, there existed moments of fleeting happiness, like delicate blossoms scattered upon the winds of time.

As Sukuna stood amidst the haunting walls of his former home, the echoes of your laughter still reverberating in his mind, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of longing for the simplicity of days gone by. In those moments, when his obsession hadn't yet consumed him, life was free from the suffocating confines of power and strength—they were everything to the monster he once was.

In a world consumed by darkness, you had been his guiding light, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos of his existence. Your presence reminded him of the beauty that still existed, even in the bleakest of times. But now, you were beyond his reach, lost to the depths of time and memory. Your soul had vanished, leaving only ashes in its wake.

Despite knowing the futility of his desires, The King of Curses couldn't suppress the ache in his heart. It was pathetic. When he thought he had long past any human desires, one thought of you shatters him whole.  Everything of you was a ghost, a curse, his pain, his grief. All the things that should not be. Yet, he knew he was stuck with you. He can never bury you. Not even if he wanted to. Not even if he tried. And he hated it. He hated how this made him feel. And most of all, he hated you. He hated you, his untenable night flower.

As he paused before the ancestral resting place, his pulse quickened with a familiar intensity. This building, standing defiant against the passage of centuries, held the remnants of your existence. He knew you were here, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of history.

But even as he yearned for your return, Ryomen Sukuna couldn't deny the bitter truth: you were gone, forever beyond his grasp. The Gojo clan, in their final act of defiance, had reclaimed your body, leaving Sukuna to mourn the loss of his beloved once more. And overtime, your soul, which he had siphoned to keep forever, had gone and disappeared.  His gaze narrowed.

If Sukuna was being honest with himself, he had no right to be here. Not after what he had done to the clan, not after what he had done to you. But it was fate. You both were marked by fate. You had said so yourself. There was none of you, without him. There was no soul at all, without the other half. He belonged to you as much as you belonged to him. 

As Sukuna's words hung heavy in the air, you struggled to comprehend the weight of his confession. The revelation that he intended to leave, to abandon the safety of your clan and the familiarity of home, sent a shiver down your spine. Clutching your silk sleeve to your chest, you couldn't suppress the rising sense of panic that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Why?" you implored, your voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and desperation. "What do you mean you intend to leave?"

Sukuna met your gaze with an intensity that mirrored the turmoil within his soul, his own eyes reflecting the conflict raging within. "I cannot stay," he confessed, his voice heavy with resignation. "This is not where I belong. This is not our clan. This is not home."

Your heart sank at his words, the gravity of his decision weighing heavily upon you. "But Sukuna, the Fujiwara are still a threat," you protested, shaking your head in disbelief. "They still have a bounty on your head. You cannot leave now, not when danger lurks at every turn."

"I cannot stay here... under the Gojo," Sukuna murmured, bitterness lacing his words like venom. The mere mention of the rival clan sent a chill down your spine. "What if they sell us to the Kamo? Or to the Zenin?"

The thought of falling into the hands of their enemies sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't deny the validity of Sukuna's concerns. Yet, the idea of him leaving, of facing the dangers of the world alone, filled you with a profound sense of dread.

As Sukuna's words cut through the air with a sharpness that stunned you, a sense of disbelief washed over you. His declaration, delivered with an intensity that left no room for argument, left you reeling, struggling to comprehend the depth of his mistrust.

"My husband would never do that—" you began, your voice faltering as you tried to reason with him, to bridge the chasm that seemed to widen between you with each passing moment.

"I do not trust him!" Sukuna's retort was swift, his voice tinged with an edge of desperation that startled both you and him. The realization of his own words seemed to hang heavy in the air, his breath catching in his throat as he lowered his head in a rare display of vulnerability. "I never will... You cannot force me to."

The weight of his refusal echoed in the silence that followed, leaving you grappling with the reality of his steadfast determination. As the head of your household, you had hoped your authority would carry weight, but Sukuna's unwavering resolve proved to be an immovable barrier.

"Not even as..." you trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you searched for a way to sway him, to appeal to the bond that once united you both.

"No." Sukuna's response was resolute, his head held high as he met your gaze with a steely determination that sent a shiver down your spine. In his eyes, you saw a reflection of emotions too complex to decipher, a glimpse into a soul that had been irrevocably changed by the passage of time and the weight of his own burdens. 

This was not the Sukuna you once knew, you realized with a pang of sorrow. He was someone else entirely, a stranger to the depths of your heart. As the realization settled over you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't help but mourn the loss of the man you once loved, the man who had long since slipped away, leaving only a shadow of his former self behind. No, you think, there is only a curse. One that you carved into his soul. Revenge, that’s all that there is to him now. 

The weight of Sukuna's plea hung heavy in the air, mingling with the bittersweet ache that tugged at your heartstrings. His offer of freedom and escape stirred a longing within you, igniting a spark of desire for a life unbound by duty and expectation.

"But where will you go?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the tumult of emotions swirling within you. The thought of Sukuna leaving, of embarking on a journey without you by his side, filled you with a sense of unease that threatened to consume you whole. "Where will you—"

As Sukuna's hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch a fleeting caress against your skin, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. His eyes, filled with a tender sadness that mirrored your own, searched your face as if seeking solace in the depths of your gaze.

"Come with me," he pleaded, his voice a soft whisper that reverberated in the quiet space between you. "We could roam the world together, free from the burdens of our past. We could carve out a new path, forge our own destiny."

Your heart constricted at his words, torn between the allure of adventure and the ties that bound you to this place. The image of a life lived on the road, hand in hand with Sukuna, danced tantalizingly at the edge of your consciousness, tempting you with its promise of liberation.

"I... I can't," you confessed, the words heavy with regret as you struggled to articulate the depth of your conflicting emotions. "I have a family now, Sukuna. My children... I cannot abandon them. Not even if I..." Your voice trailed off, unable to voice the unspoken truth that lingered between you—that even if you yearned to follow him, to lose yourself in the vast expanse of the world by his side, your responsibilities tethered you to this place, anchoring you to a life you had built from the ashes of your past.

"Not even if you want to."

Tears welled in your eyes at Sukuna's completion of your unspoken words, his understanding piercing through the turmoil of emotions that churned within you. "I'm sorry... I..." Your voice faltered, unable to find the words to express the depths of your conflicted heart.

As Sukuna's hand fell away from your cheek, a heavy silence settled between you, thick with the weight of unspoken truths and unfulfilled desires. His eyes, filled with a mixture of resignation and sorrow, bore into yours, conveying a silent understanding of the complexities of your situation.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets. "Forgive me for asking."

With a heavy heart, Sukuna turned to leave, his departure casting a shadow over the sacred space between you. The air seemed to grow heavier in his absence, the lingering echo of his presence haunting you like a ghost.

In the wake of his departure, you were left grappling with a tumult of conflicting emotions. Part of you yearned to chase after him, to throw caution to the wind and follow him into the unknown. The allure of adventure and the promise of a life unfettered by the constraints of the mundane world beckoned to you, tempting you to abandon all else in pursuit of the elusive freedom he offered.

As the echoes of Sukuna's footsteps faded into the distance, reality came crashing back in full force, grounding you in the present moment. The weight of your responsibilities and the bonds of love that tied you to your home and family became palpable, reminding you of the life you had chosen and the commitments you held dear.

Though the allure of adventure and the promise of a life untethered from the constraints of the mundane world may have whispered tantalizingly in your ear, you knew that your true happiness lay in the simple joys of everyday life. Surrounded by the familiar comforts of home and the warmth of your loved ones, you found solace and contentment that transcended the call of the unknown.

In the end, it was the love and responsibilities that anchored you to this place, guiding your footsteps and shaping your destiny. While the world beyond may have held its allure, you found fulfillment in the bonds you shared and the life you had built.

But as the sun rose on the new day, casting its golden rays upon the world, news of the massacre of the Fujiwara clan reached your ears. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized the implications. Ryomen Sukuna's journey was far from over—it had only just begun. And with a heavy heart, you knew that the world would never be the same again. He was not your Sukuna anymore. He was the King of Curses. And you cannot love a curse, not even if you wanted to.

The mere thought of standing before your final resting place, the solemn marker of your absence, sent a shiver down Sukuna's spine, a cold sensation that seemed to penetrate to the very core of his being. It was a stark reminder of the transient nature of life, a sobering confrontation with mortality that left him feeling strangely vulnerable.

For Sukuna, who had lived once more after thousands of years had passed, the encounter with your memory was a poignant reminder of the relentless march of time. Reborn into a vessel that barely contained his ancient power, he found himself grappling with the weight of his own existence and the echoes of his past.

Despite his attempts to distance himself from his human origins, to shed the vestiges of his former humanity, Sukuna couldn't help but feel the lingering connection to you. You, who had been his anchor in a world of chaos and darkness, remained a constant presence in his thoughts, a reminder of the humanity he had long abandoned.

Even as he stood on the precipice of oblivion, Sukuna found it impossible to consign your memory to the annals of history. In your absence, you remained etched in his mind, an indelible part of his being that refused to be forgotten, no matter how hard he tried.

As Sukuna stepped into the solemn confines of the ancestral shrine, a rush of memories flooded his mind, transporting him back to a time long past. The faces of those he once knew flickered in the dim light, each visage a testament to the passage of time and the inevitability of mortality.

His footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone floors as he made his way deeper into the shrine, the weight of his presence seeming to hang heavy in the air. Memories intertwined with the shadows, painting a vivid tapestry of days gone by.

Pausing before the grave of your father, Sukuna's gaze lingered, a mixture of reverence and regret coloring his expression. Your father had been a pillar of strength in the clan, a figure revered by all who knew him. And yet, even in death, his presence loomed large, a silent testament to the legacy he had left behind.

But it was when Sukuna's eyes fell upon your grave that time seemed to stand still. There, at the heart of the shrine, stood a full-life statue of you, radiant and eternal in its silent vigil. It was as if you had been frozen in time, your likeness preserved for eternity in marble and stone.

For Sukuna, gazing upon your statue was like confronting a ghost from his past, a haunting reminder of all that he had lost and all that he could never regain. There you stood, unchanged by the passage of centuries, a symbol of everything he could never be.

In that moment, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the life he had left behind, for the warmth of your smile and the comfort of your presence. But as he stood in the shadow of your statue, he knew that his fate was sealed, bound by the chains of his own making.

Your grave stood alone at the center of the shrine, a solitary figure in a sea of memories, worshiped for being all that Sukuna could not be. And as he marveled in the silence,  he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if he had chosen a different path, if he had chosen you over power and immortality. But it was too late for regrets now, too late to undo the choices that had brought him to this moment. All he could do was honor your memory and carry the weight of his sins for eternity.

As he gazes at the statue, the resemblance to your visage is striking, almost intimidating. You had a way of lingering in his thoughts, even after two thousand years had passed, remaining a haunting presence he couldn't shake. Strangely, he finds comfort in your ghostly presence; he doesn't want to escape you, if he's honest with himself. His hands reach out tentatively, mirroring the tenderness you once possessed as they brush against the cold stone. 

It lacks your warmth, yet he tries to conjure the memory of it, knowing your warmth was synonymous with life itself. It's a challenge to forget you; you were unforgettable. He acknowledges that as a man like him, he has no right to mourn—he's no longer truly human. But with you, it's different; you transcended mere humanity. You were his world, his curse, and the ache of longing for you remains.

As Sukuna stands in the solemn presence of the statue, his mind becomes a battlefield of swirling emotions, each thought a tempest threatening to consume him. Amidst the stillness of the shrine, a whisper of a thought passes through his consciousness like a fleeting breeze, stirring the depths of his soul.

He wonders, with a heavy heart, if you would ever grant him the chance to speak to you again, even if only in the ethereal realm of dreams. The weight of his transgressions hangs heavy upon him, a burden he bears with aching regret and remorse.

His thoughts drift to the possibility of forgiveness, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that threatens to engulf him. Would you, he wonders, find it in your heart to forgive him for all he had done? Could you look past the sins of his past and see the man he longs to become?

And then, in the quiet recesses of his mind, another question emerges, tentative yet hopeful: Would you meet him in another life, in another time, and love him again? The notion fills him with both trepidation and longing, a desire for redemption intertwined with the fear of repeating past mistakes.

As the King of Curses stands before the imposing statue, its silent gaze casting a solemn shadow over the shrine, he grapples with the weight of his own existence. In the hallowed stillness of the sacred space, amidst the echoes of his tumultuous thoughts, he seeks solace, a fleeting respite from the ceaseless turmoil that churns within him.

Fickle hope flickers like a distant flame in the darkness of his heart, as he silently pleads for a chance at redemption, a glimmer of forgiveness in the face of his countless transgressions. But even as he yearns for reconciliation, a bitter truth gnaws at the edges of his consciousness: he knows he will never humble himself, never stoop to beg for your mercy. A king does not bend his knees. It was all too late. And you would never hope for it from him. You knew him too well.

For the King of Curses, pride is both his armor and his downfall, a barrier that shields him from the vulnerability of human emotion, yet also isolates him in his eternal solitude. He knows he can never be with you, not in this life or any other, for curses are not meant to know the warmth of love or the tender embrace of redemption.

In the depths of his despair, he acknowledges the irreparable chasm that separates him from you, an insurmountable divide between the angelic purity of your soul and the infernal darkness that consumes his own. He resigns himself to the harsh reality of his existence: a flower in the night, destined to yearn for the unreachable glow of the moon, while knowing that his true salvation lies forever beyond his grasp, bathed in the radiant light of the distant sun.

"Sukuna..." The sound of your voice, soft and gentle, echoes in his mind, stirring something deep within him. “Sukuna….”

As Sukuna stands in the sacred confines of the shrine, grappling with the weight of his emotions, he feels the gravity of his words hanging heavy in the air like incense smoke, swirling around him in ethereal wisps. The question lingers, a delicate thread woven into the fabric of his thoughts, as he waits with bated breath for a response that may never come.

"Would you ever let me speak to you again?" His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible above the hallowed silence of the shrine. The words escape his lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for absolution in the face of his tumultuous past. "Will you, my little night flower?"

The stillness of the shrine remains unbroken, the only sound the soft echo of his own voice reverberating off the ancient stone walls. Yet, despite the absence of a tangible answer, Sukuna can't help but sense a presence, a ghostly whisper of your essence lingering in the sacred space.

Closing his eyes, Ryomen Sukuna offers a silent prayer to the heavens knowing full well that the gods would never accept the prayer of an infidel. He could care less about their judgments. Yet, in the depths of his heart, he harbors the belief that if his words were to reach anywhere, it would be in your arms, wherever you may be. In the quiet sanctuary of the shrine, surrounded by the echoes of his own longing, he clings to the fragile hope that perhaps, somewhere in the depths of eternity, you're listening, ready to grant him the solace and redemption he so desperately seeks. 

As the moon wanes overhead, casting its ethereal glow upon the shrine, Sukuna remains, allowing your memory to haunt him. If it means just one more night with you, he is willing to endure the torment of your ghostly presence. Though weary from his journey, he finds solace in the thought of being in your presence once more, even if only in his dreams.

As he kneels before you, the lilac crystal adorning the shrine gleams softly in the moonlight, casting a delicate hue upon the scene. In this moment, Ryomen Sukuna finds a semblance of peace, a fleeting respite from the turmoil of his immortal existence. Perhaps, he muses, this is all there is to be—an eternal dance between curses and prayers, between love and longing. 

When the sun rose, he let the boy have control.

Ryomen Sukuna let himself stand within his realm.

Loneliness seeping in, the night drifting away with you.

For you only belong in the wide sky, his night flower.

[ask-casino-cups-swap-au]

Lucifer - character sheet

General Information:

Height: 1.57 m (5'2'')

Age: 21 years

Date of Birth: April 28, 1915 (Taurus)

Race: Angel-Demon (??)

Nationality: Inkwellian / Aeternian.

Card Symbol: ♣ Six of Clubs

Brief Introduction:

Despite his small stature, Lucifer has a strong presence that makes him stand out. In at least one reincarnation, he is the protagonist of this story. He is the most mysterious and reserved of the casino workers. At 21, he carries himself with more maturity compared to his companion, Kingsley.

Backstory:

Lucifer’s story revolves around his reincarnation. In his past life, he led a rebellion against God but ultimately surrendered. As a reward, God appointed him as His right hand, granting him titles such as "The Great Prince" and "Morning Star." However, Lucifer betrayed God by teaching forbidden magic in the Inkwell Islands, leading to his imprisonment within a powerful gemstone by the archangel Michael. As punishment, God cursed him to be reborn, suffer countless torments, and forget all memories of his dark past.

He was eventually freed from his prison by Forkington, a bounty hunter and treasure seeker, and Elder Kettle, a former soldier turned historian of the Inkwell Islands. Under Elder Kettle’s care, Lucifer started a new life. Though Forkington pressured him to achieve perfection due to his angelic nature, he also learned useful skills—like cooking—while helping Elder Kettle with daily tasks.

He spent most of his childhood on First Island (Silva Aurum, “Golden Forest”), living far from nearby towns to avoid causing too much disturbance and to gradually integrate into society. As a result, he struggled to form relationships. However, over time, he became part of a small Aeternan community, growing up with their traditions and languages.

Despite his responsibilities and growing reputation on the islands, Lucifer found friendship in Kingsley—his best and only true friend. However, they weren’t always close; in fact, Kingsley was one of his bullies at first. Together, they embarked on thrilling adventures, one of which even involved Kingsley gambling his soul to a demon. Their friendship became a rare escape from the burdens and expectations weighing on Lucifer.

Now, Lucifer still resides in the Inkwell Islands—the only home he has ever known. However, living in the city has changed things. At times, he finds himself wondering what might exist beyond the islands, lost in thoughts about his purpose and destiny.

The Curse:

Lucifer’s curse has several notable effects, the most significant being his lack of magic—except for the powers granted by the Calix Animi. After drinking legendary potions from the mythical Chalice, he gained access to special abilities. He has retained them ever since, without needing to recharge or consume the potions again. However, he lacks full control over them. Though he can use these powers indefinitely, doing so drains his energy and darkens his gemstone.

His curse worsens both in the short and long term:

Sudden advancements cause dizziness, fatigue, chest pain, and fainting.

Long-term effects resemble a slow, worsening illness, starting with flu-like symptoms and progressing over time.

Another key aspect of the curse is memory loss—Lucifer doesn’t remember his past, though he sometimes experiences visions through dreams or events that trigger fragmented memories.

Additionally, his curse has stunted his growth, making him much smaller than he should be. It also greatly restricts his abilities; unlike other angels and demons, he cannot shapeshift or use magic freely—only the abilities he unlocked through Chalice. However, he does possess rapid regeneration, though this weakens as his curse progresses.

If his gemstone darkens beyond half its capacity, he becomes as vulnerable as a mortal. If he suffers a severe injury in this state, he could die just like any ordinary human.

Physical Appearance:

Lucifer is a short young man with white fur, dark eyes, a tail, and small claws on his hands and feet, though he rarely shows them. He doesn’t pay much attention to his appearance and is often unkempt. He frequently forgets to trim his fur, causing it to grow longer than usual.

He prefers to cover himself with jackets, coats, and sweaters, especially when outdoors, to avoid drawing attention.

He always wears a clover-shaped pendant that contains the gemstone of his curse. He never takes it off, even at work, where he hides it beneath his uniform.

When he uses the Calix Animi’s powers, small horns grow on his head, and his eyes shift to either blue or red.

Insecurities:

Lucifer struggles with deep insecurities—both about his identity and his appearance. He hates being compared to the former Lucifer and fears that he will never leave his past behind. He also feels small and weak compared to others. His stunted growth makes strangers mistake him for a child, while demons look down on him, calling him “defective.”

He worries that no one will ever take him seriously or truly love him for who he is.

Personality (INFP-T):

Lucifer is a realist, but he also holds dreams and extravagant passions deep inside, though he rarely shares them. While he secretly craves attention, his insecurities make him withdrawn and lost in his own thoughts.

He doesn’t enjoy interacting with many people due to his blunt and sarcastic personality, which has made him somewhat unpopular. However, those who truly get to know him discover an extremely emotional, compassionate, and empathetic person.

He is honest and deeply rooted in his traditions, which makes him stubborn. While he is open to different perspectives, he remains true to himself. His mind is always exploring endless possibilities, constantly questioning the mysteries of this strange world.

Likes:

Lucifer has many passions, most of which are tied to his sensitive side, which he struggles to show.

Very few people have heard him play an instrument—aside from the teachers who trained him as a child. Even fewer have heard him sing. In fact, the only one who has ever had that privilege is Kingsley, his best friend.

Both of them share a deep love for music and have been writing songs together since childhood. Lucifer handles the lyrics and parts of the compositions, while Kingsley focuses on the melody.

Writing is the only way Lucifer truly expresses himself. He loves writing poems and crafting stories in his mind, using them as his personal escape.

[the-strength-of-the-wolffe]

Looking at “Rising Malevolence” and “Mercy Mission” together, you can see how much Wolffe and Sinker evolve over the course of four seasons. What’s fascinating to me is that their character arcs move in opposite directions.

"Rising Malevolence" brings them face-to-face with death for the first time; they couldn’t be in a worse situation. Of the four survivors, Wolffe is the most vulnerable and the least useful. Nevertheless, he stands fast. His strong spirit enables him to put forth his best conduct: he’s steady, trusting, even good-humored. Sinker is not. His spirit has been depressed for a long time already, so he can’t help succumbing to negativity in the heat of the moment.

The massacre roots a new fear in both of them: fear of loss. It’s their responsibility to keep their men alive, and yet they both failed. What’s to stop it from happening again? They have no control over who survives and who doesn’t, when and where and how their troopers will die, whether it’ll be a few casualties or an entire battalion.

Amidst this fear, both of them are confronted by Plo Koon. A general who vows to share that responsibility with them. Who, through actions and not just words, commits to the kind of leadership that not only values their men’s survival but also their wellbeing.

This is the crossroads where their arcs diverge.

Sinker, against all his instincts, vices, and traumas, decides to trust General Plo. It doesn’t come easily, or all at once, but, as the Jedi continues to make good on his promise, he learns to ease up. Gradually, his spirit heals and grows stronger. By “Mercy Mission,” he’s noticeably more lighthearted, invested, and confident: a man transformed for the better.

Wolffe, however, can’t let go of his fear. It’s proportionally greater than Sinker’s; he has lost, and stands to lose, much more. He does trust General Plo, deeply, but he also harbors the disturbing knowledge that the Jedi isn’t invincible. For all his power, General Plo can still die—and that can’t happen. The 104th would go adrift without him, so he must be protected at all costs. Wolffe takes up this extra burden in secret. He becomes vigilant, overprotective, strained, insular. He won't acknowledge it, but his spirit is staggering under the weight. “Mercy Mission” shows us a glimpse of this transformation: a man who’s bone-weary and so preoccupied with the status of his absent comrades that he has no patience or sympathy for the Aleena.

Maybe it was never in the cards for him, to be healthy and flourishing and secure. Maybe his path would've always led down a darker road than Sinker's despite experiencing the same profound kindness. It's such a shame, for if any clone needed a little hope, it's him. I'm halfway through his story now, the beginning of the end, and he's about to enter the darkest valley of his life.

[reijisteacup]

if you don’t mine can you do a part two of magical girl s/o but with the Mukami's?

Of course I'm sorry <3 Alrightyy

================================================================================================

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

At first, Ruki is skeptical. He assumes the S/O is being reckless or foolish for going out alone at night—until he sees them in action. The cold efficiency, the raw magical power, the horrifying nature of the witches... it's a lot. He’s disturbed by how much danger the S/O willingly puts themselves in, but he’s also fascinated. Ruki would ask analytical questions afterward.

“That spell… it required a blood pact? Just how many times have you put your life at risk like this?” He’d start reading up on magical lore (anything he can get his hands on), trying to understand and possibly even catalogue their abilities and the entities they fight.

Kou Mukami:

Kou probably follows the S/O out thinking it's going to be something cute or scandalous—then gets a full-on horror show. The moment he sees a witch transform from a creepy shadow into something nightmarish, he goes dead silent. He tries to play it off after. But inside? He’s rattled. He becomes way more protective after that, even if he won’t admit it. He still flirts, but there's a new edge to it—an anxiety masked by charm. He might start tagging along more often, trying to make himself useful, even if it’s just distraction magic or watching their back.

“Haha... So that’s your secret hobby? Almost dying?”

Yuma Mukami:

Yuma would lose it when he catches them the first time. But after he gets dragged into a battle and sees the way they handle themselves calm, battle-worn, focused—he gains a massive amount of respect for them. He still argues with them, especially if they’re injured. But he starts training with them, offering brute strength backup during hunts and taking a “bodyguard” stance—though he quickly realizes the S/O doesn’t need guarding. It’s a weird shift for him, not being the strongest one in the room.

“What the hell are ya doin’ out here?! You tryin’ to get yourself killed?!”

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa is quiet when he follows them. He doesn’t ask why—they’ve always had pain clinging to them like fog, and now he knows why. When he sees them facing witches, unflinching despite the grotesque violence, something clicks in him. He doesn't question why they do it. He understands. Afterward, he helps them stitch wounds, clean weapons, and never complains about being dragged into a fight. If anything, he starts wanting to be part of it more, not because he wants to be a hero, but because he wants to share the pain, the burden.

“You’re... like me… fighting things that hurt... to stop more hurting...”

[divinityunleashed]

Character Profile - Tenebris

“ I have practiced the dark arts for a long time. Some say I'm crazy, some say I'm mentally insane. They can say whatever they like. What matters to me is that I completed my research and what I discovered was truly monumental. I was part of the research team Prince Lyon assigned to study the Dark Stone that contained the Demon King. While Lyon succumbed to the influence of the Demon King, I controlled him. He lives on through me as his Vassal, unbeknownst to the brave heroes who saved our home. And through his essence, new expansions into Dark have been opened through me and me alone. ”

Basic Information

Name: Tenebris Ornatus

Franchise/Series: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones (OC)

Personality: 

" Unless your presence helps me understand the secrets of Dark Magic, you are an annoyance. Leave me alone. "

Tenebris Ornatus (Derived from Latin as "Darkness Harnessed") is a closed-minded woman whose goal is to seek the ways of the Dark arts. She prefers that people not intrude on her business as her study of the Dark Ways keeps the Demon King within her in check. Though she is against socialization, she does believe that having friends helps her somewhat in maintaining control, but fears losing them as soon as they discover her secret.

However she has an angry side. When Demon King Fomortiis decides to take over or if she taps into him too much, her voice becomes demonic. Her original tone of voice becomes twisted and augmented, sounding deep and brooding to the point of terrifying to some. In this state, she is unable to see reason and the Demon King’s power can start to seep out; summoning monsters and horrific creatures.

Likes / Dislikes: 

Likes: Quiet Places, Magic, Reading.

Dislikes: Being disturbed, Failure

Strengths: 

Regarded by her Research Group peers as a prodigy, remaining focused and determined to learn.

After the Fomortiis incident and entry into her life, her willpower improved due to the burden she carries.

Though they have only met once, Knoll entrusts her with the knowledge she obtained during their time together under Prince Lyon.

Tenebris rarely trained but when she did, she demonstrated a calm and composed mind in battle.

Weaknesses: 

After the Fomortiis incident, she’s haunted by nightmares on a regular basis.

The burden she carries can often deter her from making friends by her own judgement. (She firmly believes that if someone was too close to her and learned the truth; about Fomortiis being within her, they could jeopardize everything.)

Fears: Losing control of her body to Fomortiis, Losing friends, Being Weak (Which aligns with her first fear)

Backstory 

" I used to be a normal Shaman, with a normal human name. Until that day when the Demon King got his grip on me. I’ve never been the same again… "

Tenebris started her research into Dark Magic initially as a Shaman under orders of Prince Lyon. During the war Grado had initiated with the rest of Magvel, she was assigned to the Research Group responsible for studying and uncovering the secrets of the Dark Stone; the prison of Demon King Fomortiis. After the events of Sacred Stones, she visited the death-site of the Demon King and found residual energy belonging to the Dark One. Eager to study it, she began jotting down all that she could about the Black Temple when all of a sudden she started losing consciousness.

Her entire body was stiff, unable to move or breathe, incapable to resist. That’s when it happened; the Demon King appeared to her. The amount of fear she was feeling was indescribable while she was within his eyesight. Then the nightmares came; an influx of negative emotion, torment, horror, despair, war and penultimate dread flooded her psyche. Her mental sanity was under threat but she maintained composure as best she could; showing fear would indicate he was winning. During the midst of it all, the Demon King spoke to her, stating that he was defeated but not completely. Residual energy from the dead monsters had invaded her soul upon setting foot in the temple, and after continuous exposure, she was under his thrall. That’s when she struck a bargain with him.

If she took him in and became his vassal, he’d have a body to work with. Fomortiis initially resisted but saw the value of another human host, and when it was too late for him to back out, she trapped him in. Using the same conditions used to summon him back to life, Tenebris used it to lock him in. Her resilience was strong enough to keep him locked away within her soul but on the outside her body changed forever.

Death flowed through her veins and it showed; her skin changed to a whitish gray, her eyes a Void Purple. She returned back to Grado after having experienced a chain of events that would break most people. She received a lot of looks from the local populace which indicated worriment and fear. Her own family wouldn't welcome her anymore when they saw her new state, branding her as a "demon spawn", "darkspawn" and various other vulgar things. She retreated away from the main capital and set up shop underground where no-one could interrupt her, as she believed that if anyone discovered her secret; the entire continent and her life would be at risk. She’d still enter the nearest town for food and medical supplies whilst ignoring the general populace glares.

One night, something unexpected happened. She was reading up on her notes and proof-reading them when she heard a noise at the entry staircase. She kept her secret closely guarded, so she assumed that this was a raiding party who wanted her dead. However when she investigated the noise, she was greeted by an unpleasant and foul sight; a Revenant. She panicked and rushed back down for one of her tomes while the monster continued moving down the steps. She was confused as to why it was here, but she knew it had to be eliminated. As she prepared to kill it, she was taken off guard when it stopped moving once it made it down the steps.

After a few seconds of the two exchanging glances, the Revenant got on its knees and bowed before her, like she was the king herself, or in this case a Queen. That was when she had a familiar sense of dread strike her subconscious, the Demon King speaking to her in her mind. He stated that now that he was a part of her, monsters are no longer hostile to her. He also told her the many deeds and feats she could accomplish whilst under his influence, and that this was just the beginning of what she could learn. Tenebris was quick to realize that this was his way of taking over her body, much like Prince Lyon, a way for him to resurrect himself again. To corrupt her, to twist her thoughts into his bidding, to recreate the doom of the world. She broke free from his influence, casting it aside. Returning to her control, she banished the Revenant to death with Flux and saw this as a way to advance her scientific endeavors.

As the days passed, she became more and more fluent with the Dark ways. Tapping into the Demon King, various monsters appeared in her expanding underground home. She studied them, learning their geology, their biology and their ways of dealing with enemies. As she tapped more and more into the Demon King's power, his corruption spread and spread within her soul. Every time Fomortiis gripped into her, positive emotions were overpowered by negative ones.

Happiness? Sadness.

Joy? Depression.

Love? Depravation.

And so forth. More and more traces of her humanity were being lost to his corruption. But Tenebris realized that these sacrifices had to be made, in order to further her scientific endeavor, and to keep him sealed away.

Even if it meant that she was no longer allowed to have a normal life again...

Powers and Abilities

"Ready to experience true terror?"

"Death is my mistress."

"Serve, or die."

"I am one with the Demon King!"

In combat, Tenebris fights with Magical Tomes. However, unlike the original Dark tomes that Shamans possess, Tenebris has harnessed the magical properties of the Demon King’s monsters and imbued them into her own tomes to use in battle:

Evil Eye - An attack used by the floating Eyeball monsters; Mogalls and Arch Mogalls, this creates purple discs of dark energy which deal moderate damage on impact.

Crimson Eye - An attack used by Arch Mogalls and sometimes regular Mogalls, this creates several purple orbs around the target before collapsing into them, dealing large amounts of damage. Considered a more dangerous varient of Evil Eye.

Shadowshot - Used by Arch Mogalls and Gorgons, this creates a large sphere of pulsating darkness above Tenebris, before it launches high-velocity spheres of energy at long range targets, dealing high amounts of magical damage.

Demon Surge - Primarily used by Gorgons, this engulfs the target and entraps them in an orb of darkness, followed by forks of nefarious lightning which converts the orb into a swirling tornado of darkness. Each stage deals moderate damage until the tornado, which causes large amounts of damage before dissipating.

Thrall of the Demon King - One of her new innate abilities granted by the Demon King's corruption, Tenebris is able to summon the various monsters and demons Fomortiis used to siege Magvel. While she can spawn a limitless amount, the more that exist greaten His control over her, which severely increases the threat of him possessing her body.

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1110 - Initial Thoughts

FINALLY

The five have landed, and TCB had the audacity to not translate until late Friday, making us wait so long, but we're finally here, so let's not waste any more time.

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too

Our cover story is a Yamato story, he's off to travel Wano just as Oden did, which he tells Momonosuke in this cover. Given the name, I'd expect that he may cross paths with Onimaru since it'll involve an Inari shrine

How ominous a title to have with 'Planetfall' too

The buster call watches on as it notices the similar effects to Saturn's arrival, Bluegrass seems particularly disturbed

The giants sense it too, with Bonney and Franky left to worry about the others

Vegapunk's broadcast involved showing off 'Vega-Coffee', which essentially is something that turns water into coffee

That ad break lasted 3 minutes, so there's still 7 minutes left

Marejois meanwhile is empty though, only the summoning circle appears

But Vegapunk is starting anyway, with the threat that the broadcast could be intercepted it's better to hasten

And finally we got the Gorosei fruits and it all seems to be Zoans, mainly Yokai

Saturn of course is the Gyuki, as we suspected from the design

Marcus Mars is an Itsumade, the 'Eerie bird'. According to research "Saw-like beak" and "talons as sharp as swords"

Topman Warcury is a Houki, not much info on it but that it's a Four Tusked Boar from China

Arguably the most badass design is Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, the Bakotsu. The skeletal horse is a vengeful spirit seeking revenge for being burned to death

And finally Shepherd Ju Peter, the only non-Yokai is a Sandworm. Because Oda definitely watched Dune recently

As Luffy stands down the Five Elder Planets, Sanji rushes off with Vegapunk's corpse ready to warn Nami and the others

V. Nusjuro is first to make a move, turning into a Centaur-like hybrid form as he lays waste to the Mark III pacifista surrounding the island

He was so quick that no Marine saw it either, only catching a faint image of a horse

Not even damaged, partially frozen, their 'neural circuitry' was frozen so he may've cut into their souls

I wonder if this could be a level Brook can attain

Mars is also on the move, but he's going up high

Sanji contacts Nami, telling them to get out now, soon enough Mars charges into the barrier

Luffy continues to dodge on the back foot against Saturn with Ju Peter and Warcury on the outskirts, but he notices that Ju Peter is burrowing

Usopp contacts Sanji, they're ready to leave but Zoro and Jinbe aren't here

The Sunny is safe and sound, but despite Brook's calmness he's getting his shins kicked by Lilith, who reminds him that the Sunny's only safe because of Usopp's bamboo shoots

Jinbe makes his way to Zoro, being within eyeshot

Zoro meanwhile finds himself slightly disarmed by Lucci, who taunts Zoro over his curiosity over the new sources of strong Haki

As Jinbe notes that they're still fighting, Sanji makes an off-comment, calling him a burden

Zoro has been ACTIVATED

Catching the sword that was disarmed, Zoro uses Santoryu against Lucci's leopard spots for the quick KO

The Chapter Notes point out that he references Hahava, the coldest hell of Buddhism

Plot demanded Zoro finish late, so finally Zoro has finished

Luffy meanwhile has been caught lacking, as the Sandworm comes for a bite

Dorry and Brogy have arrived though, much like they did in Little Garden (well one of them) they cut the gullet before Luffy can be swallowed

Luffy is glad to see some old friends, but now the numbers are a little more even

Well the Gorosei are definitely not weaklings

Terrifying creatures all in their own rights, they definitely set themselves up as powerful foes. Makes you wonder though what Imu could be if this is the base line huh?

There seems to be a bit more lines to draw this time around; with V. Nusjuro circling the island down below he may find himself crossing the Giants' ships, meaning Franky, Bonney, Atlas and maybe Sanji, Oimo and Kashii will likely have to confront him. Up above we have Mars looking to break through to the Labophase, which he likely will, leading to the crew having to find an opening there; Nami, Usopp, Zoro, Chopper, Robin, Jinbe and Brook plus Lilith is a greater numbers advantage, but Mars may also use the Seraphim if he's wily, does not look good for the CP agents, York and Kaku though, hope the first and latter got out safe.

Which leaves Luffy and the giants facing down Saturn, Ju Peter (I doubt he's dead) and Warcury. I could sadly see the captains not making it out, or holding off 3 so to get Luffy out. Let's not forget that Kizaru can always pull himself back into it (I hope Sentomaru also escaped). Plus there's still the matter of Vegapunk's broadcast itself.

It's not gonna be clean or pretty, but thinks are gonna get chaotic in the best and the worst way.

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Death of Jane Lawrence. By Caitlin Starling. St. Martin's Press, 2021.

Rating: 3.5/5 stars

Genre: horror, supernatural, Gothic

Series: N/A

Summary: Practical, unassuming Jane Shoringfield has done the calculations, and decided that the most secure path forward is this: a husband, in a marriage of convenience, who will allow her to remain independent and occupied with meaningful work. Her first choice, the dashing but reclusive doctor Augustine Lawrence, agrees to her proposal with only one condition: that she must never visit Lindridge Hall, his crumbling family manor outside of town. Yet on their wedding night, an accident strands her at his door in a pitch-black rainstorm, and she finds him changed. Gone is the bold, courageous surgeon, and in his place is a terrified, paranoid man—one who cannot tell reality from nightmare, and fears Jane is an apparition, come to haunt him.

By morning, Augustine is himself again, but Jane knows something is deeply wrong at Lindridge Hall, and with the man she has so hastily bound her safety to. Set in a dark-mirror version of post-war England, Starling crafts a new kind of gothic horror from the bones of the beloved canon.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: blood, gore, disturbing imagery, child death, drug use, description of medical procedures

OVERVIEW: I didn't have any reason for picking up this book other than it was available at the library and I was in a Gothic mood. But once I started reading, I felt like it was hard to stop. So much was happening! It was weird! There's math! Ultimately, I gave this book 3.5 stars because I do think there was a bit too much, but at the end of the day, I had a good time. Maybe this isn't the traditional Gothic one expects, but it was so weird that it's hard to say it isn't memorable.

WRITING: Starling's prose and structure reminded me a lot of the romance genre - at least for the first phase of the book. That's not a bad thing. By setting up a marriage of convenience and then a quick descent into Real Feelings, Starling establishes emotional stakes and makes use of the romance part of Gothic romance.

As the book continues, the prose more or less stays the same but feels less and less like romance. Sentences are still quick and simple, so if that's the kind of style you like, you'll have an easier time with this book.

Personally, I think the atmosphere of the house could have been pushed just a bit more. But more than that, I think Starling could have drawn out the tension to make a more unsettling plot. More on that below.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows Jane, a twenty-something year old woman who decides to marry rather than be a financial burden on her guardians. Jane proposes a marriage of convenience to Dr. Augustine Lawrence, the town surgeon: she will use her math skills to keep records and balance his accounts so that he can focus on being a doctor. As part of their agreement, Augustine mandates that Jane live at the surgical center in town and he live at his family home, Lindridge Hall. Jane is never to spend the night there. The two accept but soon find themselves genuinely attracted to one another. Moreover, Jane finds herself at Lindridge Hall, where something not quite right is happening at night.

I'm a Gothic girlie, and the first section of this book was everything I wanted it to be: marriage to a man with dark secrets, a dilapidated old house, possibly ghosts. I was very excited to figure out what had happened in the past, so the mystery was what kept me reading.

Around the 30-40% mark, the story shifts a bit. We get a lot of info dumped on us that changes the narrative from your traditional Gothic to something more. I wasn't necessarily displeased, but I did wish the shift had come from Jane's own powers of logic and discovery rather than things being revealed by other characters.

The last leg of the book follows Jane through an intense trial (of sorts). Without spoiling anything, I will say that part of me found this section too drawn-out, but part of me liked the psychological weirdness that I think was the point.

Moreover, this book takes place in a 'dark mirror post-war England,' and while I appreciate a bit of alternate history, I don't think the setting added much to this story. There wasn't really a reason for this not to be set in our world, and the 'dark mirror parts didn't necessarily influence the narrarive in ways I found significant.

I don't know - I had a great time, but I also felt like there was just a bit too much.

CHATACTERS: Jane, our protagonist, was interesting in that I appreciated the way Starling filtered her thoughts through mathematics and logic. Jane is proficient at these things, and I've read books in the past where character skills don't necessarily have any bearing on their thought patterns or actions. Jane, by contrast, actively uses math and logic to try to understand what is going on around her (and to challenge her own perceptions and feelings), and I found that satisfying.

I also liked how Jane has a sense of agency even through parts of the plot when she is terrified and in over her head. For the last leg of the narrarive, Jane's willpower and sense of agency kept me from finding her trials too repetitive or terrorizing. Instead, I admired the way she made decisions for herself and held a singular goal in mind.

Augustine, the surgeon, was also interesting in that Gothic-hero kind of way. I was totally invested in figuring out his secrets and learning if his past was in contrast to his present. As the book went on and his secrets were revealed, I liked how Starling pivoted to thinking about the difference between self-loathing/shame and humility. Jane has a bit of this journey too, but Augustine is the main vehicle, and I liked how it was combined with his supposed ghosts, visions, amd obsession with [redacted].

Supporting characters were fine, though I do think some of them were used to conveniently provide Jane with the information or materials she needed. I think if Jane had put more things together herself, the narrarive would have been more tense and so many random side characters wouldn't have been needed, or else more time could have been spent building up characters with emotional impact (such as the Cunninghams or Jane's mother).

TL;DR: The Death of Jane Lawrence is weird. If you're looking for your typical Gothic novel, you'll only find that for about 30% of this book. After that, it's a wild ride of horror that is all at once fascinating and perhaps trying to do too much. I still had a good time, though.

[sakuraswordly]

Source: Comic EP 14

Sonic: Yes and no, what Punch is up to here is because she wants the truth of this world, no, the forbidden law of the universe. She wanted to travel the world and explore but that was her passion since childhood.

Syaoran: Her passion?

Sonic: Hmm...how do I make sense...she kinda had the wish that born like a child passion. Because I love the new things in this world. That's why my dream never ends. Both Punch and I have the same wish. The freedom. Save people, do the impossible and break the chain of the prison world or something like that.

Source: Announce9

Punch: Sonic's wish is just simple. "Freedom". This wish for the world and universe is also the desire of Mr Gilgamesh and me too. Our childhood dream.

Gilgamesh: "Freedom" is not real. There are chains that bind us. If I can break these chains, everyone will be free from the law of the universe. But these chains need keys or weapons to unlock these. They need 4 elements of Vaten Hörmulegt. That was what Fei Wang Reed try to do with Sakura. Use her and kill her to break the cycle law of the universe.

Peter: Gil...you don't have to try hard to tell us.

Punch: No, I think it's time. We can't hide the truth from Sonic any longer. The seal is already broken because of us.

Gilgamesh: ........................Vaten Hörmulegt mean "Water Tragic".

Punch: A colourless, transparent, odourless liquid and is the basis of the fluids of living organisms. Water itself is like waves that tell us, the voice, future and music. Which mean......Vaten Hörmulegt had the power that can change the world even the timeline itself, and that power will bring troubles and disturbances.

Peter: Even everyone's life or even yourself.....

Sonic: .....................................did Shadow know about this?

Peter: He did from the metarex. Only Shadow and Sakura knew about Vaten Hörmulegt's curse. Sakura got from another Sakura.

Sonic: You seal my memory off to prevent this happen but it already happens.....how long that you lie to me, King Gilgamesh?

Gilgamesh: .......................

Yesudas: Now you can see what happen on our travel many long ago. Thanks to the green magic in your eyes that Enkidu gives to you, the power of nature.

Pit: Please don't blame Gil and Punch-big-sis, they can't avoid some events. If they don't avoid some, they will find us.

Sonic: And you use Syaoran for this....am I right?

Punch: Yep! He is.

Ephemer: Wasn't Punch afraid that he would get angry? Even we save him from his curse.

Punch: Why am I afraid? Me and King Gilgamesh did use Syaoran to avoid us to get in trouble. I didn't see anything wrong?

Ephemer: You trouble.(Terrible)

Sonic: Punch....your health was getting worst every time you break the seal of the curse inside Sakura and me.

Punch: ..................

Sonic: I saw....some of my power flow into you. And only Punch can save us back to normal, right?

Punch & Gilgamesh: ............................

Naminé: Punch-big-sis had the power to prevent bad guys from using Vaten Hörmulegt in the future, and to prevent you to die by your own power.

Periwinkle: If my king didn't change the future and let Syaoran to part of Sakura's life, both Syaoran and Sakura will die.

Punch: If we don't drag Syaoran to you, Sonic....you will die....

Sonic: But even so, it's not fair to burden yourself without letting me know!

Punch: That's the reason! I don't want you to get involved in this! Even I don't know what happen to me but at least let me share some of my life to save you. Also, you never listen to anyone at all!

Sonic: ........................!!

Punch: Please don't hurt yourself again....please......I don't want to lose you again also everyone around you too.....

Sonic: ................I see........but let me be involved in this. Even if you will use me, I'm okay. At least let me protect whom I care about!!

Peter: "Punch"

Skuld: Everyone we found the plant egg!! C'mon!

*tmp tmp*

Sonic: Are you sure about this? About Punch.

Gilgamesh: No. I can't accept it. I will save her. I won't let her die like that again.

Sonic: "Again" you say.....

Gilgamesh: Punch isn't Vaten Hörmulegt. But she is.........

Sonic: I know what you mean......I will tell Syaoran about the curse and I won't tell about you guys then.

Gilgamesh: .........................

Sonic: Promise me. Don't part from her.

Gilgamesh: I won't I promise.

Sonic: And.....don't run or hide from me again, okay?

Gilgamesh: ..................!! Thank you for not hating us.

Knowledge 19

In the study of biomechanics as it relates to fracture fixation, the fundamental mechanical question remains: is the fixation system stiff and strong enough to allow the patient early mobility, before bony union is complete, without delaying healing, creating bone deformity, or damaging the implant, and yet flexible enough to allow transmission of force to the healing fracture to stimulate union? The issue of which brand of fixation is strongest or stiffest is not specifically addressed because that is not the standard by which different devices should be judged. Within a range of fixation stiffness it has been shown that bone will heal, with the amount of stabilizing callus compensating for more flexible fixation.

Read more in Source: teachmeorthopedics.info/

Screws and screw heads (A) Cap screw, (B) machine screw with oval head, (C) setscrew with hollow head, (D) self-tapping screw, (E) flat-head wood screw, (F) machine screw with Phillips head, (G) lag screw. And Six simple machines for transforming energy into work.

Read more in: www.britannica.com

[mythoscoffee]

The Seasons

1. Winter - Eira

Past Life: A noblewoman who once ruled a cold, northern kingdom. She was known for her calm, calculated decisions but had a quiet, isolated life due to her people's harsh climate. She was highly revered but rarely understood.

Personality: Eira embodies the harshness and purity of winter. She is calm, stoic, and has a certain sharpness in her words and actions. Eira is rarely moved by emotional turmoil, instead focusing on control and endurance. She is often seen as cold and detached, yet there is a deep, almost sorrowful wisdom in her eyes. Her interactions with others can feel distant, as she doesn’t easily let people get close.

Relationship with Kal: Eira came to know Kal during his time as the personification of Time. She respected him for his stoicism but found him distant. They exchanged a quiet camaraderie, each recognizing the other’s burden of responsibility. They never grew close, but Eira’s respect for Kal was undeniable.

Interactions with Others: Eira has a reserved and professional attitude toward the other personifications, not one to involve herself deeply in their dramas. She often finds herself at odds with the more chaotic or passionate entities, like Octavius or Hailey. Eira feels that chaos disturbs the natural order of things and has little patience for it.

Role as Winter: Eira brings about the end of the cycle, pushing things into hibernation, rest, and eventual rebirth. She is not cruel but understands the necessity of endings and preparation for new beginnings.

2. Summer - Solis

Past Life: A young, energetic explorer who spent most of his life on endless adventures. He was constantly seeking new experiences, living for the rush of excitement and the warmth of the sun. His short life was marked by joy, vitality, and a burning desire for growth.

Personality: Solis is passionate, lively, and fiery. He is the embodiment of heat and vitality, often drawing attention with his exuberant personality. He is confident, bold, and thrives in moments of intensity. However, his love for warmth and light sometimes leads him to be impulsive, a bit reckless, and prone to burning out too quickly.

Interactions with Others: Solis’s relationship with the other personifications is dynamic. He often gets along best with those who share his energy and zest for life, like Hailey and Vidal. However, he clashes with the more somber figures like Eira and Diana, as their calm and control don’t mesh well with his restless nature.

Relationship with Kal: Kal was never one for the fiery, impulsive side of life. They never really saw eye-to-eye, but Solis admired Kal's unyielding nature and logical approach to life. Kal once spoke to him about balance—how everything needs both heat and cold to survive—and Solis took that lesson to heart, even if it didn’t completely alter his personality.

Role as Summer: Solis embodies the peak of life, growth, and vitality. His presence signifies abundance, passion, and the power of life at its fullest. However, his nature also teaches the necessity of restraint—too much heat can burn everything down.

3. Spring - Liora

Past Life: Liora was a healer in her previous life, known for her deep connection to nature and the land’s cyclical rhythms. She was a gentle, compassionate soul who devoted her life to helping others grow and heal. Her death came at a young age, but her spirit lived on in the blossoming flowers of spring.

Personality: Liora is gentle, compassionate, and nurturing. She carries the energy of new beginnings, fresh starts, and the possibility of growth. Her aura is calming, and she has a soft-spoken yet firm way of speaking. Liora believes that everything can grow if given the right conditions, and she exudes a quiet confidence in her ability to make things bloom.

Interactions with Others: Liora has a natural affinity for those who share a love of growth and renewal. She often finds herself in warm conversations with Hailey and Nova, as they share her ideals of creation and life. However, she can be frustrated by figures who resist change, like Eira, and those who embody stagnation or death, such as Nilo.

Relationship with Kal: Liora saw Kal as a steady presence, one that was always working to keep things in order. She didn’t understand him completely, but she respected his work. She would have admired his calm ability to observe and let things unfold naturally. While they didn’t share a deep bond, Liora appreciated Kal’s role in maintaining the flow of time.

Role as Spring: Liora represents the gentle touch of rejuvenation, the warmth of growth, and the blossoming of possibilities. She pushes the world to begin anew and fosters the birth of new life, nurturing every small change that leads to bigger transformations.

4. Fall - Thorne

Past Life: Thorne was once a stoic guardian of the harvest, someone who guided communities through the transitions from abundance to preparation. They saw the value in letting go, understanding that nothing can last forever, and everything must eventually fade. Their life was rooted in the rhythm of nature’s cycles, guiding others to be wise in the harvest and prepared for the end.

Personality: Thorne is introspective, wise, and solemn. They represent the transition of time, the quiet reflection before the world falls silent. Thorne is not quick to anger, but their words carry weight. They often speak of the need for balance and understanding, knowing that endings are just as important as beginnings. Thorne is often seen as melancholy but deeply grounded in reality.

Interactions with Others: Thorne has a profound connection with Eira, as both share a respect for the cycles of life and death. They often discuss the necessity of balance and the inevitable nature of change. Thorne also finds solace in conversations with Liora, who represents rebirth and renewal, as they remind them that the end is always followed by a new beginning. Thorne has a more complicated relationship with Solis, as his enthusiasm and impulsiveness sometimes clash with their more reserved nature.

Relationship with Kal: Thorne was familiar with Kal but always found him distant and slightly detached. While Thorne respected Kal’s role as Time, they always felt a quiet sadness about his existence—Time is constant, but often unappreciated, and Kal seemed burdened by that same unacknowledged truth. Thorne wasn’t close to Kal, but they felt an unspoken understanding between them.

Role as Fall: Thorne embodies the harvest and the winding down of the year. They are the bringer of change, transition, and reflection, preparing the world for the eventual rest and quiet of winter. Their role is to help others release what no longer serves them, to prepare for the inevitable, and to understand that endings are as natural as beginnings.

Summary of Their Roles and Relationships:

Eira (Winter) is a distant and reserved figure, not one to pry into the past or create unnecessary emotional turmoil. She has a quiet respect for Kal but is not particularly affected by his absence. Her interactions with others are typically pragmatic and professional.

Solis (Summer) is passionate, bold, and a bit reckless. His relationships are often full of energy and warmth, but he can clash with more stoic personalities like Eira and Diana. He respects Kal from a distance, admiring his discipline but not always understanding it.

Liora (Spring) is nurturing and gentle, bringing warmth and growth. She sees everything as a potential to bloom, and her gentle nature is a contrast to the more forceful personalities like Thorne. Liora has the most affinity for Kal’s role, seeing it as a necessary part of the greater flow of existence.

Thorne (Fall) is introspective, grounded in the cycles of life and death. They have the most natural connection to Eira, but their quieter nature also allows them to understand the necessity of the energy that Solis brings. They are not burdened by the past but accept the cyclical nature of existence.

These personifications of the seasons interact with the rest of the personifications based on their role and personality—while each holds their own wisdom, they respect each other's purpose in the great cycle of life. Their dynamics with other personifications will evolve as they continue to navigate the complexities of existence.

[yumeasmrscript]

[PART 3] [M4A] You’re Unexpectedly Purring in front of the Wizard [Fantasy] [Neko Listener] [Head Pats] [Listener is Purring] [Sleepy Speaker] [Fluff] [Comfort] [Reverse Comfort] [Is this a new beginning?]

Author notes: Here comes the third part of this story! This conclude the first narrative arc. As before, it is okay to monetize with the script! Friendly reminder that English is not my first language, so feel free to edit the script to fix anything that sounds weird. If you haven’t read the other parts, I’ll leave you the link below <3 See you in the second narrative arc, as soon as possible. But for now, I hope you will enjoy!

Summary: It's the next day, and since you're feeling better and you don't want to be a burden to the Wizard, you go to him to say goodbye. But, as the wizard cares for you, something unexpected happens. Something you didn’t even know you could do… Maybe, you will change your mind about leaving too?

____________

[Action/things happening] *Moods* Thinking

[Bubbling sounds]

*Hopeful* Come on, come on… Yes! The potion is done! Well done myself, well done. It took long, but it’s finally ready. What time is it?

*A little bit sad* Crap, it’s almost dawn… I guess no sleep at all for tonight. I didn’t really want to rely on one of my potions to stay awake but…

*Resigned* Sigh, no no, who cares if I’m sleepy, I’ll manage to make it to the end of the day somehow, and I’ll just go to sleep early tonight, as soon as I’ll close the shop. And, now that I think about it, I still need to clean it from the glass shards. I’m glad they didn’t hurt themselves when it broke….

Hmm, I wonder if they’re feeling better. They should still be sleeping now, I don’t really want to disturb them. But…

Okay, since I still have some time left before opening the shop for the day, I want to see through my books if I can find something to help them with the curse, just in case…

So… “Magical spells for everyday life”, nope… what about this one? “Spellbound: A collection of powerful spells”… hah, I don’t think that can help at all. I still need to get there. No, no, I need something more specific here…

[Pause]

Hmm, maybe this one? “The Cursed Knowledge: An in-Depth Guide to Malevolent Magic”. I didn’t even remember buying this book when I started studying magic… Oh well, let’s see what it can tell me.

*Turning pages* Endless Shadows, Silence, Rotting flesh…? What in the world was wrong with those wizards that thought cursing people with this kind of thing was such great idea that they had to document it in a book?

*Concentrated* More random curses… there sure are cruel people out there, huh? Oh, wait, maybe this… Shape-shifter’s Mark…? No, no, wait. That can’t be right. They said their curse was about turning them into a cat, and they can shape shift only because they managed to get away in the midst of the spell.

Where is it, where is it….? Oh, wait, found it! “Metamorphic Awakening”. It must be it! Let’s see…

Hmm… Turning humans into animals… Needed items… Side effects… Yeah, it says that not finishing the spell in one way or another, it will result in the subject being half and half until the curse is completed.

*Worried* Wait… Wait a moment…

*Sad/Concerned* There’s… no way to stop it? “Once the spell is chanted, there’s no going back”…?! What the hell!? “You can complete the spell later on, but”… “you can’t”… “reverse it”…?

*Angry* It must be lying! I REFUSE to believe that this curse cannot be undone! There… there must be some way! They just haven’t tried enough. Yes, that must be it. Damn it… !

*Worried* Huh…? Oh shoot, how long have I been reading books here? It’s already morning…!

[Annoyed groin]

*Resigned* Sigh, I’ll look for something in another book, and in another moment. There’s no way that a curse like that cannot be reversed. Maybe I can try looking for another kind of metamorphosis, from animal to human? Or… Sigh, I don’t know. For now… I’ll just focus on what I can do to actually help: make breakfast and check on them. Reversing the curse can wait, as long as they are safe.

[Book closing, footsteps]

[Yawning] Ugh… daylight sucks when you only want to sleep… But anyway, let’s see what I have in the kitchen.

Do I still have some leftovers? I think I should have a slice of that chestnut cake… I wonder if they will like it? I mean, they were hungry, I think anything would be fine. Okay, so, tea’s on… Fire spells sure are useful in this cases, can’t believe how fast it is now to get the water boiling! Now, warming up the cake too, and...

[Slow and barely audible footsteps]

*Surprised* Huh? Oh! You’re awake… Sorry, did I make too much noise here?

*Relived* I’m glad, so you woke up on your own a few minutes ago... Yeah, sun rays can be annoying when you just want to sleep. But more importantly, why are you here? You should still be in bed! If you needed something, you could have called me!

Hm? So you just wanted to tell me something? Again, you could have used the gem. Aw, you were worried you would interrupt something, either sleeping or working? How considerate of you. But you didn’t need to worry!

*Calm* Anyway… how are you feeling today? Are you better?

A little tired, huh? I bet, that was a nasty wound after all. How is it now? Let me see it. I’ll remove the bandage for a second, let me know if it hurts and I’ll stop right away.

[Sound of gauze being removed]

*Relieved* Well, it looks better. It has not healed yet completely, but it’s still much less red. Here, I’ll fix the bandage again. What about your fever?

...Your forehead it’s still a bit warm, but it’s definitely not as much as it was a few hours ago. Still, your cheeks are still a bit red…

[Barely audible purring sound]

Wait a moment, what was that noise? I think… I heard something… I didn’t imagine it, did I?

*Chuckle* What do you mean I’m too close? You didn’t forget that I did the same thing just a few hours ago, did you? How is it different now?

*Laugh* Ahaha, okay, let’s blame the fever then.

*Calm* So, what is it that you wanted to tell me?

Hm? Oh, no, my scratches are fine. See? All healed. I treated them before I started working on the sleeping potion.

Hey, no need to be sorry. Everything turned out fine for the both of us!

What? What do you mean you’re... going? *Worried* Wait a moment, what- I mean, yes I did tell you that you could leave whenever you wanted, but… can’t you at least wait until you’re fully healed? It’s true that you’re feeling better, but you could still use some rest. What would you do out there? Start stealing trying to survive and then collapse again? What if you find someone dangerous?

*Offended, but still gentle* I’m--- no, of course not! I’m not trying to keep you here at all costs, I’m just… worried about you. Listen, I’m not forcing you to stay here, and I don’t want it to look like that’s what I’m trying to do, I just… want to be sure you’re safe, before you leave. Does it… make you upset? Or in danger, somehow?

No? Then, what’s the problem?

...What? *Gentle* What gave you that idea? You’re not [emphasis on “not”] a burden. There’s no need to feel guilty, okay? You don’t need to worry, and--

[Stomach growling]

Was… that you stomach? *Small laugh* Hey, why are you embarrassed? Of course you would be hungry, I wonder when it was the last time you ate something. Come on, go back under the blankets, I’ll bring you something to eat in a moment, all right?

Good kitty.

I can’t help it, when they blush… they are just so adorable.

[Footsteps]

[Small pause]

Tea’s ready, cake too… [Yawn] I really could use some sleep, damn it…

[Footsteps]

*Calm* Here I am, I brought you something to eat and drink. I hope… you like it.

Oh, you do? I’m happy to hear that! And… I’m also glad to see you trust me… [Yawn] this time.

Hm? It’s just… no, as I told you, sleeping wasn’t in my schedule. No need to worry, kitty, it’s not the first time I had to stay awake to get the job done… I mean, when you run a shop on your own and you also need to practice, gather ingredients, and other things… sometimes it’s just normal to sacrifice some sleep.

Yes, sometimes I use one of my potions or just, you know, coffee. But… if I keep relying on those things, I might just get used it to the point they wouldn’t have the same effect anymore…

*Chukle* What’s that face? Oh, you think it’s hypocritical of me telling you to rest when I’m so sleepy? Heh, touché. But hey, in my defense, I’m used to it and you were not feeling well.

Oh, you finished eating? ...Yes, I’ll see what I can eat later. I still need to clean the shop from the glass shards, before opening it for the day.

Hey, don’t be sorry, you didn’t do that on purpose. Hmm, I wonder if this…

[Rubbing sounds, head pats]

...will reassure you a little bit.

And here they blush again… well, I’m patting their head, I guess I should have expected it.

[Purring sound]

Wait, this sound… again… What...

Was this… wait, kitty, are you… purring?!

That’s it, I’m gonna die for cuteness overdose. And they’re not even complaining anymore about being called “kitty”…!

*Laughing* Oh come on, don’t say that! That was unexpected, and… to be honest, it was sweet too.

[More purring]

*Chukle* Why do you cover your mouth like that? It’s not going to stop the sound, you know?

You didn’t know you were able to do that either, huh? Well, that explains it! But, really, that was adorable and… not gonna lie, it is kind of… soothing, you know? [Yawn]

Well… I better get going before I fall asleep here. You get some more rest, okay? By the end of the day, you should feel much better.

Hm? Why are you grabbing my shirt?

What was that? I didn’t hear you…

*chuckle* I’m not mocking you! You said it so quietly that I didn’t really hear.

You… want me to stay with you a little longer? Well… I guess, if you ask me this nicely, I can’t say no. I’ll just… yeah, I’ll sit down here... [Yawn], *From now on, sleepy* for just… a little while…

No, no, you can stay in bed. It’s just for a moment, after all, I can wait for you to fall asleep just sitting here on the floor, near you. [Yawn] But, maybe… I’ll just… lean my head on the bed.

You know? After all, I’m glad I found you last night. I’ve been alone for a while now, excluding the customers… it’s nice to have someone to talk to.

[Purring sound]

Aww, are you purring again? I guess, that means you’re pretty happy too, am I right?

*Sleepy chuckle* Silent treatment again? I thought we were past this phase. Were you... alone as well?

Yeah, I bet… when you’re hiding from someone [Yawn] I highly doubt you can have company. But, hey, as I told you, as long as you’re here, you can relax. You’re not alone and… not in danger either.

[More purring]

*Very sleepy* Your purrs… are so relaxing… Like this, I’m going to… fall asleep…

[Speaker falls asleep, sounds of relaxed breathing for a few seconds]

[Purring stops, a few seconds pause/time skip]

________

[Yawn, speaker wakes up]

What… Oh shoot, I really did fall asleep?! This… I don’t remember using a blanket myself… Also, wait a moment, where… where are they?

*Sad* Did they… really leave? Sigh… I guess… I don’t want to believe they were just acting, but… oh, well, I just hope they are safe, wherever they are.

How long have I slept? I… oh, shoot, the shop! I need to clean the mess, and-- right, I gotta grab that sleeping potion, the client should arrive soon. I need to hurry…

[Footsteps]

The broom, where is--- huh?

*Surprised* You’re… still here? I thought… I thought you left… Wait, did you just… you cleaned everything? But… why?

*Gentle* Oh, someone’s stealing my line, huh? But- you didn’t have to help here, you’re still supposed to be resting!

I… needed to rest too? And you wanted to do something in return? Wait a minute... asking me to stay with you was just a plan to make me fall asleep, wasn’t it?

*Pretending to be offended* And here I thought you genuinely enjoyed my company!

*Chuckle* Of course, of course, I’m joking. You would have left already if you didn’t like my presence, am I right? Well, thank you for the help, kitty. Now, go back to rest like you should, so I can take care of the shop and give the sleeping potion--

*Worried* Wait, what? They already came?! Oh, damn it...! I didn’t want to lose a customer…

Hm? What did you say? You... have already handed over the potion to them? You’re… you’re right, I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave any money on the counter, so… Oh, you also found a hat to cover your cat-ears so that no one would suspect you, huh?

*Confused* But, wait a moment, how did you know which [emphasis on “which”] potion was the right one?

*Surprised* Oh…! Is that so? You used to help that… wizard, huh? The one who cursed you… So... magic, spells, potions and such aren’t anything new to you, are they? Why didn’t you tell me before?

*Gentle* Well, I’m flattered! I’m glad that you trust me enough now to tell me these things too. Hm? There’s… something else? Yeah, I’m listening. What is it?

[small pause]

You want to help… more? You mean, to return the favor? Well, you managed to clean the front shop and you handled a customer for me while I was sound asleep… Oh, wait, so there was more than one client? And… you got them all the right potions? Hmmm… I mean, I really appreciate your help, but you really didn’t need to, especially not now that you’re still recovering!

Oh, there’s… more?

*Surprised* You want me to… help you reverse the curse? And since you don’t have anything that you can give to me, you want to… work here and help me with the shop? *Happily* Well… You know what? We got a deal. If I have to be honest, I could really use some help running my business and… since you already have experience in assisting wizards, it shouldn’t be that hard for you. I can help you with the curse in return, or rather, I already wanted to help you. And… if you don’t have anywhere else to stay, you can stay here too. I’ll find a way to add a room for you, or a bed, or something… I mean, if you want to.

*Gentle* Of course there’s no problem with it. *Small chuckle* You’re welcome, kitty.

Aaand they’re blushing again. Well, I’m… really happy things turned out this way. Even though the first impression wasn’t the best, this person seems genuinely kind and considerate. I wonder if… maybe… they’ll tell me more about their past? I… would love to know more about them, about the things they like and the things they don’t, why that asshole cursed them… Hopefully, with the time, we’ll get closer. Maybe we can also become… friends?

Ah-ehm, now, since you’re going to work for me… Take today off, go back to bed, so you can gain all of your strength back. Tomorrow morning, you will be able to help me with my shop. All right?

*Satisfied* Good! You still have the gem I gave you, right? I’ll go get mine downstairs in a moment. This time, if you need something, call for me. I assure you that you won’t disturb me. Perfect! You deserve a head pat.

[Footsteps fading]

*Quiet* Shifted into a cat and… upstairs they go. They really are the shy type, huh? *Chuckle* I feel like… this is a new beginning. It’s… really nice having someone else here. Well… let’s get to work.

[Door opening/closing, shop’s bell ringing]

*Surprised* Oh, a customer! Welcome to my shop, how can I help you?

[Dialogue fading] Hmm, there are two kind of potions to help the flowers’ growth… maybe you could try this one…

[fr-martin-gospel-reflections]

4th February - ‘Everybody is looking for you’, Reflection on the readings for Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Mk 1:29-39)

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sometimes a darkness of spirit can come over us for many reasons. Such an experience can often be generated by some experience of loss. We sense that we are losing our health. We may be losing some friendship or relationship that has been important to us. A loved family member drifts away from us because of ill health. The most painful experience of loss is when a loved one dies. Job who features in today’s first reading is someone who had lost everything - his home, his children, his health, his independence. A great darkness of spirit came over him, powerfully expressed in today’s first reading, ‘Lying in bed, I wonder, “When will it be day?” Risen, I think, “How slowly evening comes!”,,, my eyes will never again see joy’. It is a heartfelt lament, and as you read on beyond our reading, Job brings his heartfelt lament to God in prayer, saying to God, ‘Why have you made me your target? Why am I a burden to you?’ It is a very honest prayer out of the depths of great distress and darkness of spirit.

Sometimes that is the only form our prayer can take. It was the prayer of Jesus as he hung from the cross. He cried to God out of the darkness of his spirit and the brokenness of his body, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ On the cross, Jesus had lost everything. He had lost his disciples, his freedom, his dignity, and he even appears to have lost God. Jesus entered into the darkness of our human condition. He knows it from the inside. His question to God is the question of all of us when we find ourselves in a dark valley that is not of our making, ‘Where is God in my pain, grief and loss?’ Where was God on Calvary? God was with Jesus, his Son, suffering with him, sustaining him. God had not abandoned Jesus but would bring him through the darkness of Calvary into the glorious light of Easter. God had not abandoned Job either, but would go on to speak to him out of the storm. God never abandons us in our own valleys of darkness, but is always there with us, carrying us, sustaining us, leading us through the darkness into the light.

This is the good news that Jesus came to bring by his words and, above all, by his actions. In the gospel reading, Jesus spends a whole day bringing God’s healing and life-giving presence to the broken in body, mind and spirit. He firstly heals Simon Peter’s mother-in-law in her own home. The gospel says that ‘he helped her up’, literally, ‘he raised her’. He brought the power of the resurrection to bear on her illness. Having just healed a disturbed man in the synagogue, he now heals a seriously ill woman in her home. The risen Lord is with us in our homes as much as when we gather in church to worship. He wants to bring the power of his risen life to bear on our own brokenness of body, mind, or spirit. We don’t have to go on a journey to find the Lord. He is always journeying towards us, and he meets us wherever we are, whether it is in our own home or in some place that could never be called home.

Having healed Simon Peter’s mother in her home, he goes on to heal large numbers from Capernaum at the door of her home. The gospels suggest that Jesus spent a great deal of his time surrounded by suffering, by people who were in desperate need of healing of one kind or another. There must have been many broken people in great darkness of spirit he just couldn’t get to. At the end of the gospel reading, his disciples wanted him to go back to Capernaum to continue his healing work, but he replied that he needed to move on to the neighbouring country towns. How did Jesus cope with all that human suffering that kept coming at him? The gospel reading suggests that one of the ways he coped was by taking time out on his own to pray. After his day’s work, long before dawn, he got up and left the house of Simon’s mother-in-law and went to a lonely place and prayed there. He knew he needed to be alone with God if he was to keep doing God’s work.

Jesus is showing us the importance of being alone with God, of withdrawing to rest in the presence of God. When we find ourselves in some darkness of spirit, we can pray to God in various ways. Like Job, we can give out to God, or, like Jesus, we can just rest in the loving presence of God, the prayer of presence. We become aware of God’s presence to us, and we allow ourselves to become present to God. I came across a statement recently, ‘Whenever there is no way out, there is always a way up’. Like Jesus, we can come quietly before God who suffers with us as he suffered with Jesus on the cross, and who wants to carry us and bring us into a greater light and a fuller life. Like Jesus, in prayer we can find the strength from God to keep journeying on.