#Build Stronger Web Presence

[biggestxsimps]

Deception & Intriuge

A/N: This was requested over on our wattpad, another request will be out soon for YanSim! I’m just focusing on school at the moment since the workloads increased. I hope you enjoy!

I COMPLETELY FORGOT TO ADD THAT Y/N IS KIRA!!

____________________________________

KIRA…

TRANSLATION; KILLER

The night air was thick with tension as Y/N strolled through the dimly lit streets, shrouded in mystery. Another encounter awaited him at the Japanese task force building, where L resided. As he approached the building, a sense of both curiosity and agitation washed over him.

L was starting to suspect him which was getting on his nerves. But also. This was perfect. Y/n saw an opportunity in L’s unexpected liking towards him, realising the potential to turn the tide of the investigation to his advantage. With a calculated approach, these last few months he had been under L’s surveillance, he had strategically begun to build a stronger connection with him, gaining his trust through subtle cooperation and active involvement through the case. Y/n elected some sort of empathy from L, clouding his judgement and creating a shield around himself.

Inside, a labyrinth of monitors and scattered notes filled the room. L, a figure cloaked in the shadows, turned his piercing gaze towards you. “I have been observing you.” he said, voice laced with suspicion. “There are certain inconsistencies in your actions that raise my suspicions.” His intellect was unmatched, Y/N couldn’t help but be captivated by his presence.

But Y/N was not without his secrets. Throughout school, he was classified as a genius right through to his adulthood. He is highly perceptive, and manipulative. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to slip out a single word that would hint that he was Kira.

“May I ask, what certain inconsistencies are you speaking of?” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Ryuzaki?”

“Kira is located in the Kanto region of Japan, he is believed to be a college student based on the timings of the killings. It’s obvious also that he has access to the police database, shown through the timing adjustments and a behavioural analysis we conducted whilst you were under camera surveillance at home.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, keeping the innocent facade present as his hands rested in his pockets. “Interesting deductions, L. The investigation certainly seems thorough. But I must say, attributing all these traits to one person seems like a stretch. Let's not overlook the possibility of a more elaborate scheme at play here, shall we?”

L found himself back in a loophole, so utterly confused, yet he knew Y/N was Kira. What was stopping him from detaining him? He disregarded his feelings for him, the slight attraction that grew for Y/N each day was starting to get to him.

The dance of words and gestures became a delicate balance between exposing his true intentions and maintaining his innocence.

“Funny how Kira seems to have a knack for timing, isn’t it? Almost as if they have insider information..” Y/N spoke casually

As L’s piercing gaze lingered on Y/N, a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, hidden behind his facade of innocence. He knew damn well that he had L’s attention, and he relished in the thrill of the game they played, each step drawing them together.

“Well Ryuzaki?” Y/N began, his tone teasing. “I must admit, once again your suspicions are certainly flattering. You tend to love a good mystery, especially when it's directly in front of you.”

L’s expression remained stoic, but a hint of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Y/N.” He retorted. “But I must admit, you do have a certain charm to you..”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle softly, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m well aware of my charms.” He replied. “But it seems you’re the one caught in my web of intrigue. Tell me, detective, are you enjoying the chase as much as I am?”

L’s lips quivered into a half-smile, a rare display of amusement. “You’re certainly full of surprises, Y/N.” He admitted.

Masterlist

-Written by owner 2

[mononijikayu]

akuma no ko—ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna's gaze, once softened by shared memories and tender affection, now hardened into a steely resolve, the pain etched into the lines of his face transforming into something colder, more distant. His response, delivered with a quiet finality, cut through the air like a blade, severing the fragile threads that bound you together.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Miscarriage, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Miscarriage, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: akuma no ko by ai higuchi

note: there is four chapters left to write for this. this is just??? i cant believe ive written it this long. but i already planned the ending. im very excited for you all to see the end of this story with me. thank you for all your love!!! gojo also making parts here and there with this story, but he has a lot of things to say about his ancestor~ anyway i'll see you in the next chapter~ i love you!!!

LIFE WAS FULL OF SURPRISES. Seven years had passed since the destruction of the Ryomen clan. The warm summer days passed wondrously, a stark contrast to the turbulent years of rebuilding and war. You sat in the middle of the gardens, watching children play, their laughter a soothing balm to your weary soul. You had not expected your life to take this turn, but you supposed you could claim to be satisfied.

The war had grown ever larger, engulfing most of the clans in a web of alliances and enmities. The Zenin and the Kamo sided with the Fujiwara, while the Inumaki, the Ryomen, and the Gojo aligned against them. The Ryomen were still in the process of rebuilding, gathering old followers and new. The Mikoto were now upheld as the most trusted vassals of the Ryomen, with Masaomi always shadowing you, more so now that you were participating in the conflicts personally, leading your sorcerers against the Fujiwara.

As you watched the children, a sense of bittersweet nostalgia washed over you. The gardens, once a place of tranquility and beauty, had become a rare sanctuary amidst the chaos of war. The sight of the children, carefree and oblivious to the burdens you carried, brought a fleeting smile to your lips. They represented the hope for a future you were fighting so hard to secure.

Masaomi approached silently, his presence a constant and reassuring one. He bowed slightly before speaking, his voice respectful and steady. "The preparations for the next mission are complete, Ryomen-sama. Your sorcerers are ready and awaiting your command."

You nodded, standing up and brushing the grass from your clothes. "Thank you, Masaomi. Let's not keep them waiting." As you walked towards the assembled sorcerers, your mind shifted from the peaceful garden to the battle ahead. Each step you took was a reminder of the responsibility you bore, not just for your clan, but for the future these children represented.

The sorcerers gathered, their faces a mix of determination and reverence. They looked to you for guidance, their leader in this relentless struggle. You addressed them with a calm authority, the weight of your words underscored by the years of hardship you had all endured together.

"Today, we fight not just for our clan, but for the future we wish to build. Our enemies may be strong, but our resolve is stronger. We will reclaim what was taken from us and ensure that our legacy endures."

As you led your sorcerers into battle, the memory of the gardens and the children remained a beacon of hope. The war might rage on, but you were determined to see it through to the end. For the Ryomen, for the future, and for the promise of peace that seemed just within reach.

It was Masaomi who had orchestrated the daring escape, leading you and his own clan to safety across the borders. There, the Gojo clan awaited, their formidable presence a beacon of hope in the turmoil. The Gojo had welcomed you and your followers with open arms, providing sanctuary and respite. Suzaku Gojo, the head of the clan, was particularly glad to keep you as his guest for as long as possible.

However, amidst the warmth and hospitality, there were growing concerns. You have become more valuable than ever before. As the clan leader of the Ryomen and, more critically, as a woman in a position of power, you were a target. Men from rival clans and ambitious factions would undoubtedly seek to use you, aiming to impregnate you to seize the power of the Ryomen through blood and prestige.

Suzaku was acutely aware of these dangers. In a private conversation, he expressed his concerns, his demeanor serious and protective. "You are a beacon of strength for your people. Your brother saw that too. But that also makes you a target. There will be those who seek to take advantage of your position and lineage."

You met his gaze, appreciating his candor. "I am aware of the risks, Suzaku. But I won't let fear dictate my actions."

He nodded, his expression softening slightly. "And you shouldn't have to. I promise you, nothing will happen to you here. The Gojo clan will protect you and your people. You have my word."

His assurance was comforting, but the reality of your situation remained ever-present in your mind. As you navigated the treacherous waters of clan politics and warfare, Suzaku's promise was a beacon of hope. The Gojo clan's support bolstered your resolve, and with Masaomi by your side, you felt prepared to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

In the days that followed, you found a semblance of peace within the Gojo estate. Suzaku's presence was a constant reassurance, his protective nature evident in the measures he took to ensure your safety. Yet, the specter of war loomed large, and you knew that the respite was only temporary.

The gardens of the Gojo estate became your sanctuary, a place where you could find solace and clarity. It was here, among the blooming flowers and serene pathways, that you gathered your thoughts and prepared for the battles ahead. The child's laughter, the warmth of the sun, and the unwavering support of your allies gave you the strength to continue.

The war was far from over, but with each passing day, you grew more determined. You would reclaim what was rightfully yours and build a future where the Ryomen clan could flourish. And in this journey, you knew you could count on Suzaku's promise and Masaomi's loyalty, guiding you through the darkness towards a brighter dawn.

A child runs towards you, snapping you out of your thoughts. The child's laughter fills the air, a sweet melody that brings a smile to your face. You run your hands through the child's hair, gazing down at him with your striking purple eyes. When he looks up at you, his eyes are revealed to be as blue as the sky.

"Mother," the child asks, his voice full of innocent curiosity, "when can I meet Father?"

You smile softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. "I do not know, my love. Your father is still busy with his duties."

The child pouts, his tiny brows furrowing. "Do you not like your mother, little one?" you tease gently.

"I love you equally, Mother!" the child exclaims, his pout quickly turning into a bright smile.

You laugh, the sound light and full of affection. Just as you are about to reply, a servant approaches and bows respectfully. 

"What is it?" you ask, your tone courteous yet curious.

"Lady Gojo, Lord Suzaku has arrived," the servant announces.

The child's face lights up with joy, and he jumps excitedly. "Father is home!"

You stand from your position, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation. "Thank you." you say to the servant, who nods and steps back.

Hand in hand with your son, you make your way towards the entrance of the estate. The warm summer breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of the child's laughter echoes through the gardens. Despite the turmoil and uncertainty of the world outside, this moment, with your son by your side and the promise of reunion with Suzaku, brings a sense of peace and hope.

Gojo Suzaku entered the room quietly, his presence as gentle as ever. His eyes softened as they met yours, a small smile playing on his lips. He approached you, his steps light and measured, and you could feel the warmth and care emanating from him. Ever since your marriage, Suzaku had always been kind, but there was a newfound gentleness in his demeanor, a tenderness that had grown even more profound after the birth of your children. 

The soft glow of the lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden hue as you sat by the window, gazing out at the serene garden. The blue hour was calm, and the air was filled with the subtle scent of blooming jasmine. The tranquil scene outside was a stark contrast to the turmoil you had recently faced in childbirth.

He approached you, his steps light and measured, and you could feel the warmth and care emanating from him. Ever since your marriage, Gojo Suzaku had always been kind, but there was a newfound gentleness in his demeanor, a tenderness that had grown even more profound after the birth of your children.

As Suzaku stepped further into the room, the door burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy bounded towards him. Seiryuu, your son, with his bright eyes and infectious laughter, leaped into Suzaku's arms with an exuberant shout.

"Father!" Seiryuu cried, wrapping his arms around Suzaku's neck.

Suzaku laughed, a deep, warm sound that filled the room. He lifted Seiryuu easily, holding him close. "Seiryuu, my boy! I've missed you."

Seiryuu's face was radiant with joy. "Did you bring me anything from your trip?"

Suzaku nodded, his smile widening. "Of course. But first, tell me, have you been helping your mother?"

Seiryuu nodded vigorously. "Yes, Father. I've been very good and training hard. I even practiced the new techniques you showed me!"

“And towards your sister?”

“I made sure to sing for her, father! Ma-chan adored my songs!” The boy beamed proudly.

Pride swelled in Suzaku's eyes as he glanced over at you. "That's my boy. I'm proud of you, Seiryuu."

Seiryuu beamed, his excitement barely contained. He wriggled in Suzaku's arms until he was set down, then rushed over to you, grabbing your hand. "Mother, come see what Father brought!"

Suzaku extended a hand to help you stand, his touch tender and supportive. Together, the three of you made your way to the lord's chambers. As you entered, everyone bowed lowly, reverence and respect evident in their gestures. You felt a mix of humility and pride wash over you. This was the acknowledgment that came with bringing the six-eyes into the world after a hundred years.

Suzaku led you to a comfortable seat, where you settled with Seiryuu by your side, his excitement palpable. Suzaku retrieved a beautifully wrapped package and handed it to Seiryuu.

"Go on, open it," Suzaku encouraged, his eyes sparkling.

Seiryuu tore into the wrapping with the eagerness of a child, revealing a finely crafted wooden sword and a small, intricate figurine of a dragon, its eyes resembling Seiryuu's own unique gaze.

"Wow!" Seiryuu exclaimed, holding up the gifts for you to see. "Look, Mother! It's amazing!"

You smiled, touched by Suzaku's thoughtfulness. "They are wonderful, Seiryuu. Your father always knows just what to bring."

Suzaku sat beside you, his arm around your shoulders. "I'm glad you like them, Seiryuu. They are to remind you of your heritage and your strength."

Seiryuu nodded solemnly, his young face filled with determination. "I'll make you both proud, I promise."

You placed a gentle kiss on Seiryuu's forehead, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "You already do, my love. Every day."

You smiled at Seiryuu, your heart swelling with pride at his enthusiasm and determination. For a moment, you savored the warmth of his presence, the bond between mother and son palpable in the air. Then, with a gentle pat on his shoulder, you parted from him and moved to position yourself comfortably, preparing to greet Suzaku as he entered the room.

As Suzaku stepped closer, you lowered yourself into a respectful bow, a gesture ingrained in the customs of your household. It was a sign of deference and respect, a recognition of Suzaku's position as both your husband and the lord of the land. But before you could complete the motion, Suzaku's hand was there, reaching out to help you up immediately.

You looked up, surprised by the sudden interruption, but the warmth in Suzaku's eyes melted away any hint of confusion. His touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted you upright, his expression filled with tenderness and care.

"None of that, my love," Suzaku said softly, his voice a soothing murmur. "You needn't bow to me. Not now, not ever."

His words were like a balm to your soul, easing any lingering tension and replacing it with a sense of profound gratitude. Suzaku had always treated you with kindness and respect, but in moments like these, his gestures spoke volumes of his love and admiration for you.

You smiled up at him, a softness in your gaze as you met his crimson eyes. "Thank you, Suzaku," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with genuine appreciation.

Suzaku's smile widened, his hand still resting gently on yours as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Always, my dear. Always."

You allowed Suzaku's hand to assist you, feeling the comforting warmth of his touch as he guided you towards the sitting mats. Seiryuu sat nearby, his vibrant blue eyes alive with curiosity, a nursemaid attending to him attentively. The sight of your son brought a tender smile to your lips, his innocence and joy a welcome respite from the weight of your responsibilities.

As you settled onto the mats, the soft cushions providing a sense of comfort beneath you, you couldn't help but feel the gravity of your position. The role of wife to the lord of the land came with its own set of expectations and duties, and in moments like these, it was impossible to ignore the weight of those responsibilities. But Suzaku's gentle touch on your arm served as a reminder of the unwavering support you had in him, a pillar of strength upon which you could always rely.

Seiryuu, now nestled securely in his father's arms, giggled and played, oblivious to the solemnity of the moment. His laughter filled the room, a joyful melody that lifted your spirits and brought a sense of lightness to the air. It was a reminder of the simple joys in life, the moments of happiness that made the burdens of leadership bearable.

As you watched Suzaku and Seiryuu interact, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite the challenges you faced, you were surrounded by love and support, both from your husband and your son. In their presence, you found strength and courage, knowing that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

With a contented sigh, you leaned back against the cushions, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the moment of peace and tranquility. The weight of your position may have been heavy, but in this brief respite, surrounded by the ones you loved most, it felt as though the burden had been lifted, if only for a fleeting moment. And as you closed your eyes, basking in the warmth of your family's embrace, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love that filled your life, making even the most daunting of challenges seem surmountable.

Suzaku smiles at you, his expression filled with pride and affection. "How have you been?" he asks, his concern genuine.

"I’ve been resting," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "Masako has been keeping me awake. I've been a bit sore since birth, but I have been well.”

Suzaku nods, his expression serious yet understanding. Your pregnancies have never been easy on you. "And how has your rest been? Are you feeling better?"

You nod. "Yes, much better. The gardens are peaceful, and Seiryuu keeps me company."

Suzaku glances at your son, his eyes softening. "He is a remarkable child. Tengen-sama was most amicable during my trip, happy to know that everyone was well."

"Tengen-sama is most interested in Seiryuu," you say, acknowledging the connection between your son's six-eyes and Tengen-sama's interest. "Seeing his progress, Tengen-sama wants to see more of Seiryuu's success."

Suzaku's expression is one of pride. "Seiryuu is extraordinary, just like his mother. Tengen-sama's interest is a testament to that, you know.”

You smile, feeling a sense of pride and warmth. "He is, indeed. And with your guidance, he will continue to thrive. He will be most worthy as your heir.”

Suzaku reaches out, taking your hand in his. "We will guide him together, as we always have. You are not alone in this."

As the laughter of Seiryuu filled the room, escaping the hands of his nurse-maid. Your husband’s expression sombered. Suzaku was good at keeping a poker face more often than you could say. Much more when you played a game with him. But his own eyes clouded with concern, with worry. Seiryuu rushed to his father’s arms, giggling as he laid there. Your husband smiled at his son, though his eyes remained firm in its worry. He gently shifted Seiryuu in his arms, his attention turning towards you as he prepared to share the weighty news. He turned to Seiryuu’s nurse and nodded at her. 

Suzaku knelt down to his son's level, his voice gentle as he whispered, "You must go and wash up, little one." He leaned in to plant a soft kiss on the boy's snowy white hair, a tender smile curving his lips. "I'll come and read you a story after, hm?"

Seiryuu's face scrunched up in a pout, his blue eyes wide and pleading. "But I would like to have more time with you, father."

Suzaku's smile deepened, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "And you will," he promised, his fingers tenderly tracing through the boy's hair. "I just have some matters to finish first, hm? Now, kiss your mother goodbye."

The little boy hesitated, his gaze flickering between his parents. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he turned to you. "Goodbye, mother," he said, his voice small and earnest. He leaned in to give you a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek, his warmth lingering.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love. "Goodbye, my little Seiryuu. Be good for your father, alright?"

Seiryuu nodded solemnly, his eyes glistening with the innocence and trust only a child could possess. He turned back to his father, who gave him a gentle nudge towards the door. As Seiryuu left the room, a soft murmur of footsteps echoed in the corridor, growing fainter with each step.

Suzaku straightened up, his expression shifting to one of seriousness. The tender moment with his son had been a brief respite from the weighty responsibilities that awaited him. He turned to you, his eyes searching yours for a moment of understanding.

"Actually, that's not why I was called to meet Tengen-sama," Suzaku began, his voice grave. "There has been a matter of great concern that Tengen–sama wished to discuss with me, one that concerns you."

You felt a chill run down your spine at the shift in Suzaku's tone. Something serious must have transpired for Tengen-sama to summon Suzaku in such urgency. Tengen–sama was kind, always making sure to treat you and your family well. But it was rare that Tengen–sama would say outright that they have a concern with you. 

Suzaku continued, his words measured and deliberate. "Tengen-sama informed me of a series of disturbing events—a massive murder of the Kamo clan's subsequent minor blood relatives, followed by similar atrocities within the Zenin clan. These incidents bear a striking resemblance to the slayings found in prior raids, where the victims were already deceased.”

“How bad were these incidents?”

His silence was more than enough for you.

But you wanted him to say something to you.

To confirm the truth, with his own words to you.

“Beyond humane.” Suzaku says, his eyes lowering. You think he has seen things. Too many things. “They should not be for anyone’s eyes, wife.”

Silence fell over the room as Suzaku's words sank in. The implications were grave, and the weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air. And these killings were not just of regular human people. They were sorcerers. To the jujutsu world, the lives of sorcerers were more valuable than anything else. You remained silent for a moment, processing the information. He does not speak either. As though letting you comprehend this moment. You settle your shaking hand away into your sleeves  before finally speaking up, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Is it him?" you asked, the words heavy with dread.

Suzaku met your gaze, his expression grim. He nodded solemnly. "It's him."

The realization sent a shiver down your spine. The perpetrator behind these brutal acts was no ordinary threat; it was someone with a deep-seated vendetta, someone capable of unspeakable atrocities. The safety and stability of your clan were now at stake, and the responsibility to protect your family weighed heavily on your shoulders.

Ryomen Sukuna has returned to the world.

But in what form, in what truth — you wondered.

What could have changed in these seven years?

YOU NEVER THOUGHT THIS COULD HAPPEN. The battle for Hida unfolded like a dark symphony, its crescendo building with each clash of swords and burst of magic. From the moment the first echo of cursed energy was thrown, it truly set loose to the final breaths of combatants in thunderous echoes, crescendo of souls burning through the worst of humanity. It was too much for you. You could feel the air crackled with tension, thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and burning earth.

As the chaos of battle raged around you, you stood firm, your resolve unyielding despite the recent trials of childbirth. With the flames of determination burning fiercely in your eyes, you fought alongside Suzaku, each movement fueled by an inner strength that refused to be extinguished. 

Your blood mingled with the elemental forces at your command, conjuring white flames that danced and swirled around you, consuming your enemies with righteous fury. The air was thick with the sounds of war, the agonized cries of the wounded mingling with the clash of cursed energy, steel and the roar of flames. 

The torrent of flames upon the land, the inferno roaring with an intensity that seemed to mirror the ferocity of your convictions. The gods were happy to see it, you think. Your sacrifice in blood, burnt underneath it all, white echo of cursed energy blended into bleeding hell fire. The gods find more souls in the hell that you created. The heat licked at your skin, searing the very air around you, as the sorcerers who dared to stand against you found themselves consumed by the flames they had invoked.

Amidst the tumultuous chaos of battle, the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning flesh. It lingered like a haunting specter, a grim reminder of the brutality and devastation wrought by the clash of opposing forces. Each gust of wind carried with it the stench of charred skin and singed hair, assaulting the senses and leaving an indelible mark on the memory of those who dared to tread the battlefield. Despite the horrors that surrounded them, sorcerers and warriors pressed on, driven by their unwavering resolve and the desperate hope of victory amidst the carnage. 

Yet, you paid it no mind, your focus unwavering. This conflict had raged for far too long, and you were determined to see it through to its end. With gritted teeth and a steadfast gaze, you pressed forward, your determination unwavering. Though Suzaku had initially protested, he soon relented, acknowledging the indomitable fire burning within you that refused to be extinguished.

Beside you, Gojo Suzaku wielded his cursed whip with deadly precision, its dark tendrils lashing out like serpents, striking down any who dared to approach. Each crack of the whip echoed like thunder, a harbinger of doom for those foolish enough to stand in his path. His strong cursed energy pierces through over and over. 

Mikoto Masaomi, a stalwart sentinel at your side, moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior. His blade danced with deadly elegance, cutting through the enemy ranks with a fluidity that belied the chaos of battle. He yells, pushing the resistance forces forward. There would be no more surrender. Not anymore.

The forces of darkness threw everything they had into the fray, their desperation palpable in every incantation and strike. You hissed, kicking a sorcerer hard as you tried hard to maintain the flames of inferno. Masaomi screams, killing the sorcerer for you. Blood stains his face tenderly. You nodded at him as you still your breathing. You and your allies must come and stand firm. unyielding bastion against the tide of tyranny that sought to engulf Hida in shadow. 

As the relentless battle unfolded, the ground beneath your feet transformed into a quagmire of blood and mud, each step fraught with the slippery remnants of fallen comrades and foes alike. Above, the once serene sky was now a tapestry of crimson hues, illuminated by the fiery infernos that ravaged the battlefield. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each passing moment marked by the cacophony of clashing steel, the thunderous roars of magic, and the anguished cries of combatants locked in a struggle for survival. With every swing of your weapon and surge of power, you propelled yourself further into the heart of the fray, inching ever closer to the inevitable climax of the conflict.

But through it all, you fought on, drawing strength from the courage and camaraderie of those who stood beside you. For in this moment, amidst the chaos and carnage of battle, you knew that victory was not merely a possibility—it was a certainty. And with every fiber of your being, you pressed forward, until at last, the forces of darkness were vanquished, and Hida stood free once more, bathed in the light of a new dawn. You waited seven years.

Amidst the chaos of battle, a figure emerged from the swirling maelstrom of combat, a harbinger of death and destruction. It was your grandfather, Fijiwara Ankoku, a formidable warrior whose mere presence sent tremors of fear through the ranks of the Gojo forces. With a single-minded determination, he cut through all who dared to stand in his path, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on you, his target. As the clash of swords reverberated around you, Ankoku's voice cut through the din, dripping with malice and contempt.

"Pathetic. You think you can stand against me, little child? You're nothing but a weakling clinging to false hope." Ankoku laughed maniacally.

You gritted your teeth, your determination fueling your resolve to prove him wrong. "I may not have your strength, grandfather, but I fight for something greater than myself. I fight for the future of the Ryomen, and I won't let you destroy it."

Ankoku's laughter echoed across the battlefield, a sound as cold and heartless as the blade he wielded. "The future? Ha! You're delusional, child. The only future you have is one of suffering and despair."

You blocked his vicious strike with all your might, the clash of steel ringing in your ears. "You're wrong, grandfather. We will never surrender to tyranny. And neither will I."

Ankoku's eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as he pressed the attack, his movements swift and deadly. "Brave words, child. But words will not save you from the fate that awaits you at my hands."

As you fought tooth and nail against your grandfather, each strike and parry a testament to your unwavering determination, you knew that the battle was far from over. But with every fiber of your being, you refused to back down, for you knew that the fate of the future depended on your strength and resilience in the face of darkness.

Before he could reach you once more, however, a sudden and cataclysmic force swept through the battlefield, tearing through the ranks of the Fujiwara forces like a scythe through wheat. A shockwave rippled outward, engulfing Ankoku and almost all of the Fujiwara forces in its fiery embrace. The air crackled with searing heat, as though everything around you was being consumed by flames.

Screams echoed through the chaos, a chorus of agony that pierced the very soul. Masaomi, ever the steadfast protector, stood before you, his blade drawn and ready to defend. Suzaku, your husband, held you close, his arms a shield against the storm of violence that raged around you.

As the dust settled and the acrid scent of burning flesh hung heavy in the air, you dared to peek through the haze, your heart pounding in your chest. And there, amidst the devastation, stood a lone figure, bathed in the eerie glow of the battlefield. It was someone you knew all too well, someone whose very presence sent chills down your spine.

You hitched your breath, your eyes widening in recognition as you realized who had unleashed such devastation upon the battlefield. It was him—the one who wielded the power to rend reality itself, whose very existence threatened to tear apart the fabric of the world. And as you stood there, frozen in fear and awe, you knew that the true battle had only just begun. For now, faced with the wrath of a god, you could only hope to survive the coming storm.

Ryomen Sukuna had changed. His once familiar form now towered over you, his frame elongated and imposing. Two sets of red eyes gleamed beneath his own, casting an eerie glow in the darkness. And as if to accentuate his newfound power, two additional arms sprouted from his sides, a testament to the monstrous strength that now coursed through him.

You watched in horror as Sukuna strode forward, his footsteps leaving crimson ripples in the river of blood that flowed from his very being. The air crackled with an oppressive aura, heavy with the weight of his malevolence.

In a desperate bid to shield yourself from his gaze, you moved to stand in front of Suzaku, seeking refuge in his comforting presence. Tears streamed down your face, a silent testament to the fear and anguish that consumed you.

Suzaku met your gaze with a mixture of concern and determination, his crimson eyes blazing with a fierce resolve. Despite the danger that loomed before you, he remained steadfast at your side, a beacon of strength in the face of overwhelming darkness.

The two of you stood together, united in your defiance against the encroaching evil. And as Ryomen Sukuna drew nearer, his monstrous form casting a shadow over you both, you couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu—an eerie echo of the past, where fate had once torn you apart.

The demon bowed to his master.

Tears flowed from your eyes.

“I have returned to you, as promised.”

IT WAS QUITE SURPRISE. As Ryomen Sukuna reentered your life, a palpable tension hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the once serene halls of your ancestral home. Despite the dissolution of your marriage, the ties of blood and kinship still bound you to him, making him an inseparable part of the Ryomen clan's legacy. His presence stirred a mix of emotions among the clan members, ranging from curiosity to apprehension. 

The grandeur of the clan, once illustrious and revered, now lay in ruins, its glory faded and its power diminished. Those who served the clan, once proud and loyal, now regarded Sukuna with wary eyes, their apprehension evident in their hesitant movements and whispered conversations. The air crackled with anticipation as the prodigal son returned, his every step echoing through the corridors like a harbinger of uncertainty.

Sitting across from each other in a modest chamber that had once been the heart of a thriving household, you and Sukuna attempted to catch up. The conversation was stilted, each word carefully chosen, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. The weight of your shared history hung heavily between you, a barrier neither of you seemed willing to breach just yet.

"You look well," Sukuna remarked, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled between you.

"Thank you," you replied, offering a polite nod. "And you, Sukuna? How have you been?"

Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "Surviving." he answered cryptically. "Things have been... complicated."

"I understand, do not worry." you said softly, the understatement hanging in the air like a heavy fog. "It hasn't been easy for any of us."

A tense silence fell between you once more, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the household bustling outside. Each of you grappling with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions, unsure of how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you over the years.

Sukuna's eyes, once filled with a ferocious intensity, now held a glimmer of something softer, almost vulnerable. He looked around the room, taking in the familiar yet changed surroundings, before his gaze settled on you. You, too, found it difficult to find the right words, memories of past conflicts and shared dreams flickering like shadows in the back of your mind.

For a moment, there was silence. You looked at Sukuna, your expression softening. "Thank you for returning, for coming back to me." you said, your voice sincere and filled with gratitude.

Sukuna met your gaze, his own expression serious. The usual bravado and arrogance were absent, replaced by a rare honesty. "I will always come back to you, you know that." he replied, his tone firm and resolute. "No matter what."

The declaration hung in the air, a promise that transcended the broken bonds of marriage, reaffirming the deeper connection that bound you both. Despite the awkwardness and the unspoken pain, there was a sense of comfort in knowing that, regardless of the circumstances, you would always be family. You will always know he was someone you loved.

You took a deep breath and led Sukuna into the main hall, where your children were waiting. Seiryuu, your eldest, stood with a confident stance, his eyes—a rare and powerful six-eyes—glinting with curiosity. You had told him stories about his lineage, but meeting Sukuna in person was a different experience altogether.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on Seiryuu, a flicker of recognition passing over his features. “I can tell the boy already has power in him.” he remarked, his voice carrying a note of approval.

You nodded in agreement. “Yes, he does. He is quite an intelligent boy.”

Seiryuu looked up at Sukuna with wide blue eyes, filled with a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Who are you?” he asked, his tone innocent yet direct. Those eyes made Sukuna uncomfortable. “You’re tall. And your arms, and your eyes! You have four!”

You purse your lips. “Seiryuu.”

“It’s alright.” Sukuna tells you softly as he turns to the boy. “You’re quite curious aren’t you?”

Seiryuu grins at him. “I do! Father thinks so too.”

For a moment, Sukuna hesitated at the mention of Suzaku. He could feel his usual confidence giving way to an uncharacteristic uncertainty. Then he spoke, his voice gentle. “I am your uncle.”

Seiryuu’s face lit up with a bright smile. “I’ve never had an uncle before! Father never had other siblings! Are you my mother’s brother?”

“No, I am her cousin.” He responds.

“So you were great uncle Hisamu’s son?”

“Yes I was, boy.” A hint of sadness pierces at his reply.

Seiryuu's curiosity seemed to know no bounds as he bombarded Sukuna with questions about their family history, drawing out tales of their ancestors and the legacy they carried. Sukuna, despite his initial hesitation, found himself opening up, sharing stories of their lineage that had long been buried beneath layers of time and secrecy.

As the conversation flowed, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia creeping in. It had been so long since he had connected with someone from his past, someone who understood the weight of their shared heritage. Seiryuu's youthful enthusiasm was infectious, breathing life into memories Sukuna had long believed to be forgotten.

You smiled at their interaction, feeling a sense of warmth and hope. Turning to the lady servant who held your baby daughter, you gently took the child into your arms. As you cradled your daughter in your arms, a rush of tenderness enveloped you. Her tiny fingers grasped at the fabric of your dress, her innocent gaze fixed upon your face with unwavering trust. In her presence, the weight of the world seemed to lift, replaced by a profound sense of peace and joy.

“Is there another one to meet?” Sukuna turns as Seiryuu plays with one of his arms. You smiled at him as you nodded.

 "She would like her uncle.” you said, walking closer to Sukuna with babe in hand. “This is my little one. Gojo Masako.”

Sukuna's gaze lingered on Masako, a tenderness softening his usually sharp features. "She takes after you, night flower." he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of wistful nostalgia. The endearment, once a whispered promise of affection, now echoed through the chamber, stirring memories long buried beneath the weight of time. “She’s truly beautiful.”

A pang of longing pierced your heart at his words, a bittersweet reminder of a love that had once blossomed between you. In that fleeting moment, the shadows of the past danced with the light of the present, weaving a tapestry of emotions that bound you and Sukuna together, forever intertwined in the threads of destiny.

"I know." you replied softly, your smile tinged with sadness as you cradled Masako against your chest. You look at her tenderly. “My adorable little one.”

“But mother, I am your adorable little one!” Seiryuu pouted in Sukuna’s arms. “Aren’t I?”

“Hm, you always will be.” You smiled at him. “But your sister is still a baby, hm? Give her a chance. A good adorable elder brother should love his adorable little sister.”

He pouts, nodding at you slowly. “Alright.”

The moment was poignant, a rare glimpse of peace amidst the turmoil that had defined your lives. Despite the complicated history and the lingering tension, this simple family introduction felt like a small step toward healing. Sukuna’s presence, while still tinged with the shadows of the past, also brought a sense of solidarity and a reminder of the bonds that could never truly be broken.

Sukuna's eyes softened as he looked at your children, a rare vulnerability crossing his usually stoic features. "They could have been ours, wouldn’t they?” he lamented, his voice tinged with a sadness that mirrored the longing in his eyes.

You smiled at him sadly, a melancholic understanding passing between you. "They would have had the happiest life together," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging heavy in the air. Sukuna broke the silence first, his tone measured. "I'm happy you've found a life," he said, though his words lacked conviction.

You gave him a knowing look. "Be better at lying," you said softly.

He didn’t respond, the silence stretching between you once more, heavy and unresolved. After a moment, you decided to break it. "Where have you been all this time, Sukuna?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Does it involve massacre?"

Sukuna's lips curved into a familiar, unsettling smile. "I regret nothing." he said, his voice carrying a dark, unapologetic undertone.

You sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness filling your heart. Despite the distance and the divergent paths your lives had taken, Sukuna was still a part of your world, a ghost from your past who refused to fade away.

The complexity of your relationship, filled with both love and regret, was a testament to the depth of the bond you once shared. In that moment, surrounded by the reminders of what could have been and the reality of what was, you found a fragile, tenuous connection that, while fraught with pain, was still unbreakable.

In the quiet aftermath of Seiryuu's departure, a palpable tension lingered between you and Sukuna, a silent acknowledgment of the complexities that defined your shared history. As Seiryuu reluctantly departed for his lessons, his parting tantrum echoing faintly in the air, Sukuna's gentle assurance carried a weight of its own—a promise of presence amidst the lingering uncertainty that surrounded your family.

"I'll be here and play with you when you finish, boy." Sukuna's words were imbued with sincerity, a genuine pledge to honor Seiryuu's desire for companionship despite the constraints of their circumstances.

Seiryuu's pout softened, replaced by a hesitant smile as he sought reassurance from his uncle. "Do you promise, uncle?"

Sukuna's smile widened, his eyes softening with affection as he met Seiryuu's gaze. "I do." he affirmed, his voice carrying the weight of a solemn vow.

Silence echoes through your chambers.

You looked at Sukuna, he looked back at you.

He smiles towards you, like he did years ago.

With a gentle nod, Sukuna rose from his seat, a sense of resolve in his demeanor. "I should take my leave." he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and acceptance. One of his palms rests on your face. You lean against his palm, taking a deep breath. "But know that I am always here, should you ever need me. Just call on me.”

You met his gaze, a flicker of gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you, my love." you whispered, your voice carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. "For returning to me.”

With a final glance at Masako cradled in your arms, Ryomen Sukuna turned to leave, his steps echoing softly against the chamber floor. As the door closed behind him, you were left with a sense of closure, a faint glimmer of hope stirring within your heart.

Within the walls of the manor, an uneasy atmosphere lingered, thick with tension and veiled hostility. Sukuna, an outsider in this realm of familial politics, bore the burden of suspicion with an air of stoic acceptance. Despite the sidelong glances and murmured asides that shadowed his presence, he maintained an outward facade of calm resolve.

To Sukuna, the Gojo clan held little significance compared to the ancient lineage of the Ryomen. In his eyes, they were newcomers, lacking the weight of history and tradition that defined his own heritage. He refused to yield to those he deemed beneath him, his pride and arrogance serving as an impenetrable shield against the subtle machinations of those who sought to undermine him.

As the insolent behavior of one of the Gojo servants grated against the already strained atmosphere, Sukuna felt the urge to unleash his wrath upon her. The impulse to tear her limb from limb coursed through his veins like a torrential storm, fueled by her audacious disrespect. In his mind, she was nothing more than an insignificant nuisance, unworthy of even a moment's consideration. Surely, no one would mourn her absence if she were to disappear.

However, Sukuna's gaze lingered upon her with a magnetic intensity, drawing Suzaku's attention like a moth to a flame. With a voice as sharp as a whip crack, he addressed the servant's misconduct with unwavering severity, his words laced with authority and reproach, cutting through the air like a blade.

In his reprimand, Suzaku's tone held an unwavering firmness, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a blade. "Sukuna-dono is still a relative of my lady wife," he stated sternly, his words carrying the weight of authority. "I expect you to treat him with the respect he deserves. Or else, I will not be lenient." 

There was no room for negotiation in his command, the seriousness of his tone leaving no doubt as to the consequences of disobedience. The servant’s eyes were wide, terrified as she bowed deeply, murmuring apologies before scurrying away. Once alone, Suzaku and Sukuna found themselves discussing the ongoing war and, inevitably, the topic turned to you.

The servant, visibly cowed by Suzaku's admonition, offered a hasty apology before retreating, leaving behind a palpable sense of discomfort in their wake. Sukuna's reaction, though subdued, betrayed a flicker of irritation in his steely gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the constant scrutiny and hostility he endured within the confines of the manor walls.

"It seems our time here has become increasingly difficult," Suzaku remarked, his voice tinged with regret. "But rest assured, Sukuna-dono, that you have my support. I will not allow any disrespect towards you, regardless of the circumstances."

He snickered. “Your servants are disobedient. If they were Ryomen servants, they would have been punished severely.”

“Too bad they are Gojo servants, Sukuna–dono.” Suzaku's lips twitch into a small wry smile.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smirk at Suzaku's response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Indeed." he replied, his tone tinged with sardonic humor. "But even Gojo servants must learn to respect their superiors. I will ensure they understand that."

Suzaku inclined his head in agreement, his expression reflecting a mixture of approval and anticipation. "Your authority is unquestionable, Sukuna-dono, of course." he acknowledged, a subtle nod of respect accompanying his words. "But I have doubts they will heed your words. You are not a Gojo." 

“I do not want to be a Gojo.”

“That is quite clear to see, yes.”

Silence engulfs the two men.

Sukuna shifts his haori to the side.

Suzaku shrugged as he looked away.

"When did you two wed?" Sukuna asked, his tone casual but his red eyes sharp.

"Shortly after you left," Suzaku replied evenly as Sukuna watched him. "To protect her from being taken by the other clans. They would have sought to use her for their own gain. It was the only way.”

Sukuna's lips curled into a mocking smile. "And do you care for her, Suzaku? Or is it just the six-eyes that bind you to her? I’d like to have a good response.”

Suzaku's expression remained calm, but there was a steel in his eyes. "I have great fondness for her, as I always have. I may even love her."

"May even love her?" Sukuna scoffed, his voice dripping with derision."You should have a more definite answer to me, the man who loves your wife the most. Speaking about love with such uncertainty makes me think you only care that she gave you a six-eyes boy.”

Suzaku met Sukuna’s gaze steadily. "You may think what you want, but I will not debate my love for her. It is what it is, and nothing you say will change that."

The tension in the room seemed to thicken as Sukuna's eyes narrowed, a glint of something unreadable passing through them like a fleeting shadow. The air crackled with unspoken words, each man standing firm in the silent confrontation. Time seemed to slow as they locked gazes, a silent battle of wills unfolding in the space between them. Then, just as abruptly as it began, Sukuna broke the gaze, his expression shifting into a bitter smile tinged with resignation. The weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a silent reminder of the complexities that bound them together despite their differences.

"Well," he said, his voice softer but still edged with sarcasm, "let's hope your love is enough to protect her from what's to come."

Suzaku nodded, his resolve unshaken. "I will protect her with everything I have. That is my vow." 

Sukuna remained silent, his thoughts veiled behind a mask of indifference, but beneath the surface, a begrudging admiration stirred within him. Despite the tension between them, he couldn't help but acknowledge Suzaku's unwavering determination and strength of character. It was a quality Sukuna had always respected, even amidst their differences and conflicts. Though he may never admit it aloud, a part of him grudgingly admired the steadfastness with which Suzaku stood by his convictions.

Ryomen Sukuna had made up his mind.

You would always be in good hands, he thinks.

You could live life without him now, he knew.

But he thinks he needs time, he needs a moment.

He needs to accept that he has lost you forever.

IT WASN’T AN EASY DECISION. Sukuna grappled with a profound sense of displacement, feeling like a relic of a bygone era in a world that had moved on without him. Despite his enduring love for you, it was tainted by the melancholy realization that he no longer belonged in the life you had forged. Part of him yearned to whisk you away, to selfishly claim you as his own and shield you from the complexities of the world. 

Yet, he harbored an innate understanding that such a course of action was untenable. Deep down, Sukuna recognized the inherent impossibility of uprooting you from the existence you had painstakingly crafted, even if it meant sacrificing his own desires for the sake of your happiness.

In the quiet embrace of the night, you and Sukuna clandestinely convened in the secluded sanctuary of the Gojo manor gardens, cloaked in the silvery luminescence of the moon. Its soft beams illuminated the delicate petals of blooming flowers, lending an otherworldly quality to the serene ambiance. The fragrance of blossoms perfumed the air, intermingling with the faint rustle of leaves stirred by the gentle breeze. Each element conspired to create a tranquil tableau, a poetic setting befitting the gravity of the emotions that hung palpably between you and Sukuna.

In the solemn intimacy of the moonlit garden, Sukuna's declaration hung heavily in the air, his words carrying the weight of both resignation and resolve. His voice, a subdued murmur amidst the tranquil night, echoed with the ache of longing and the burden of acceptance.

Your gaze, brimming with a tumult of emotions, sought solace in the contours of his face, a canvas etched with the scars of time and distance. Hurt and determination intermingled in the depths of your eyes, reflecting the depths of your heart's turmoil.

"Sukuna, you can't leave me again," you implored, your words a fervent plea that resonated with the echoes of past separation. "Not after we've endured the agony of being apart for so long."

His sigh, a weary exhale that seemed to carry the weight of the world, was accompanied by a downward cast of his eyes, a gesture of resignation that mirrored the heaviness in his soul. "You have a life here, a family," he murmured, his voice tinged with a melancholic realization. "I don't belong in this world anymore."

"You are my family," you countered, your voice a steadfast declaration that cut through the night's stillness. "We may no longer be lovers, but we could still be a family again. Together, we can navigate this world, find our place amidst the chaos and uncertainty."

Sukuna's expression hardened, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "I can't consider Gojo my family. Not in my entire life. You are my only family. And I can't have you as such. I can't be with you. Not anymore.”

You stepped closer, desperation in your voice. You knew he was right. But you didn’t want him to be right. You didn’t want him to leave you. Not again. "We don't have to be lovers, Sukuna. Just stay. We can find a way to make this work. You are my only family left, we are the last of the Ryomen. Herons….”

“Herons cannot exist without the other.” He completes for you, your eyes widened. “But you cannot be a heron with a monstrosity. Not ever.”

“You are not a monster to me.” You insisted on him, your hand taking his massive palm. You pursed his lips. “You are Sukuna. My Sukuna.”

He shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I want to take you away, to be selfish and keep you all to myself. But you have responsibilities, people who depend on you."

"And you think I don't need you?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion. "I have always needed you, Sukuna. Your presence in my life matters more than you know."

Sukuna looked away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I love you," he whispered, the words heavy with regret. "But I don't belong here. Not in this world, not in this life you've built."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Please, don't go. We can figure this out together."

For a moment, Sukuna allowed himself to feel the warmth of your touch, the connection that had always been there between you. But he knew he couldn't stay. Not without causing more pain.

"I will always come back to you," he said softly, his voice breaking. "But for now, I have to leave."

“You do not have to leave—”

Sukuna's piercing red eyes burned with intensity as he spoke, revealing the depth of his distrust. "I know the Gojo elders are displeased with how much of their resources are being spent trying to retake Ryomen land. They see no benefit in it. I fear there will be a betrayal."

You listened, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. "What are you saying, Sukuna? You think that our most trusted friends—”

He stops her with a glare. “They are not friends.”

“They have helped us, Sukuna. In our hour of need!”

“I cannot trust them. Not now. Not ever.”

You felt your throat dry as you stared at him, as though frightened of him. “What do you want me to do?”

"I'm saying you need to come with me," he insisted, his voice urgent. "Leave this place before it's too late."

You shook your head, tears already welling in your eyes. "Sukuna….you knew this was….I can't leave, not without my children. And my children will not leave without their father."

Sukuna's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Was there ever a chance? When I came back, did you ever consider choosing me?"

You looked at him, your voice trembling. "I chose you, Sukuna. I always chose you."

"But never when it comes to your children, or this life you've built," he countered, his voice growing harsher. "You never chose me over them."

"Don't make me choose," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. "Please, Sukuna, don't make me choose."

He looked at you, the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "It's me or this life," he said, his voice breaking. "Choose. You must.”

You burst into tears, your heart shattering as you realized the impossible decision you were being forced to make. Sukuna watched, his face a mask of sorrow and resignation. He knew your choice before you even spoke it. You cannot expect to leave with a monster, and not expect to be one too. But you won’t be herons. Not anymore. Never again. You swallowed the bile down your throat.

As the weight of your sorrow enveloped you, your words emerged in hushed whispers, each syllable laden with the heavy burden of remorse. Tears welled in your eyes, tracing silent paths down your cheeks, as you struggled to articulate the depths of your regret.

Sukuna's gaze, once softened by shared memories and tender affection, now hardened into a steely resolve, the pain etched into the lines of his face transforming into something colder, more distant. His response, delivered with a quiet finality, cut through the air like a blade, severing the fragile threads that bound you together.

"Goodbye, night flower," he uttered softly, his voice a poignant echo of the intimacy you once shared. With those words, he turned away from you, each movement a silent proclamation of the irrevocable distance that now lay between you. "From now on, we are strangers."

In that fleeting moment, amidst the whispered apologies and the weight of unspoken regrets, the ties that had once bound your souls together unraveled, leaving behind only the echoes of what once was, and the poignant ache of what could have been.

You watched him leave, your heart breaking with every step he took. The night seemed to close in around you, the silence deafening in its finality. As you stood there, feeling the weight of your choice, you knew that a part of you had left with him.

The news of the main branch of the Fujiwara being eradicated struck the Gojo manor like a thunderclap, reverberating through the halls with an ominous intensity. Whispers of disbelief and fear echoed off the walls, mingling with the palpable tension that hung heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. 

In the wake of the sudden and brutal attack, the once bustling manor now stood cloaked in a veil of uncertainty and dread. Servants moved about with hurried steps, their expressions etched with worry as they exchanged anxious glances, grappling to comprehend the magnitude of the devastation that had befallen their esteemed counterparts.

Within the confines of the manor's walls, the atmosphere crackled with unease, each passing moment fraught with a sense of impending doom. As the hours stretched on, the collective sense of foreboding cast a shadow over the once tranquil abode, leaving its inhabitants on edge and trembling in the wake of an uncertain future.

You knew, deep down, that this was Sukuna's doing. A final act of defiance, a way to strike back at the world that had taken so much from him. As you held your children close, the weight of your choice pressed down on you, a constant reminder of the love and sacrifice that had defined your life.

Even with tears in your eyes, you still were still spring. Yet he would never be able to put it into words. Even if these words could be translated to life, they would never capture the true meaning and wouldn't be conveyed: I'll still love you in every cruel world. you sobbed. and he walked away, a child of evil, tearing you apart whole.

You sobbed for days alone in your chambers.

In the next years of your life, you were miserable.

The return of the Ryomen was a truly lonely life.

Herons would never end up lasting together forever.

You stand alone, yearning for the life that could never be.

facts about the chapter

writing this chapter, i looked at the family tree that i made and thought it was okay to reveal now but i realized that there's still some spoilers about it.

seiryuu's name is spelled as 聖琉 - 聖 means holy or sacred. 琉 means gemstone or precious stone. hiromi chose the name, the characters were chosen by suzaku. his name is sacred gemstone.

masako's name is spelled as 万咲子 - 万 means ten thousand. 咲 means blossom or flourish and 子 means child or small thing. hiromi chose the name and spelling. her name means a child of ten thousand blossoms.

hiromi at this point would be 30 or 31. sukuna is 27 or 28. seiryuu was born 2 years after the war (5 years old), masako was born a few months into year 7 of time skip (3 months old).

hiromi and suzaku are very amicable. but hiromi does not love suzaku in the way she loves sukuna. suzaku however is different.

sukuna occupies some part of hida and builds his own shrine. sukuna was very popular in hida according to some legends and ended up being some sort of protector.

hiromi stays in hida as well, but in ryomen manor - which is a bit further than where sukuna is at. wives often stayed in their own home rather than stay with their husbands. but hiromi often returns to the gojo manor.

as mentioned in the manga, tengen is very connected to the six-eyes. so it was fair to mention how interested tengen is with the six-eyes holder of the heian, seiryuu.

sukuna has fully developed malevolent shrine by this point. but he really had no reason to use it that much, as its rare to have someone as good as him in using jujutsu.

sukuna wiped out multiple bloodlines of the fujiwara, including koku's own bloodline but he hasn't really completely done so as they had managed to escape and mingle with their allies.

seiryuu starts to get headaches for his jujutsu a year after this, because his powers manifested fully. he also has the limitless, which made it worse. he starts having to cover his eyes with special bandages his mother blessed for him.

gojo satoru likes seiryuu as an ancestor a lot, because he wrote a lot of his experiences with limitless and six-eyes - most which satoru understood. a lot of the materials satoru used in his childhood was seiryuu's diaries.

the next chapter is set at least ten or fifteen years in the future.

[adaptacy]

The General Drow's Celebration {2/2}

Pairing: General!Minthara x Durge!AFAB!Reader

{Part 1}

Warnings/Tags: NSFW! Pure smut this time. Knifeplay, bloodplay, consensual poisoning, exhibitionism, the slightest hints of foodplay, etc.

Word Count: 2.4k

Her hand slides up your body, finding purchase around your throat, and she meets your gaze, her prideful smile meant entirely for you. “Tonight, we celebrate two deaths. The death of Late General Thorm, and the death of The Nightwarden. Indulge in the wine and feast as you deem fit – a rebirth occurs this evening. A rebirth of values. A rebirth of power. A rebirth of The Absolute.” Her gaze lifts, meeting the intrigued smiles of her soldiers. “Hear the testament of my reign – straight from the voice of darkness,” Minthara chuckles, eyes drawn once more to you. “Speak my title, dear oloth.” 

With a lustful smile, you oblige; “General Minthara.” 

“General Minthara,” she agrees, leaning over the table to meet your lips, hand tightening around your throat, robbing you of breath in the two ways she knows best. Her other hand is placed on one of your knees, fingers tracing the inside of your leg and tugging outward, creating a little more room between your leg and her waist. Her hand disappears, and it’s only sensible for you to immediately miss it, especially when she’s forced to break the kiss, leaving the two of you to catch your breaths. She stays close, her voice low and steady as she makes a command; “Swallow.”

Without question or hesitation, you do as she asks. Immediately, there is a stinging present, starting at your lips, washing over your tongue and down your throat. Some tart bitterness that you’d subtracted from her mouth – you know both from experience and from the faded glisten on her lips, a mixture of your spit and the poison, some custom concoction made only for the two of you to share. The taste fades as your mouth borders on the edge of brimming numbness, your throat tight, and before long you feel it lull you into a state of light-headedness. She’d increased the dosage for the occasion, and you were, slowly, building an immunity to it, but tonight was a test of many things. A test of her guild’s loyalty, a test of her power, and a test of your constitution. 

“Stay awake, my love. You will not want to miss what follows. You are far more entertaining to please when you are conscious. Your attentiveness shall be rewarded in full.” Her coos are accompanied by a snicker, and you nod in understanding, in a silent promise to obey her every request – her every demand. Your efforts to fight the artificial weariness in your head are pushed to the forefront of your priorities, and you keep your eyes strictly on Minthara, relying on her to be your point of focus, to keep you grounded and awake. 

The kiss is resumed, and you allow yourself to close your eyes, very quickly regretting that choice as it makes the urge to drift off significantly stronger. So, instead, you force them open just in time to catch the glint on the blade of her bloodied dagger, lifted from the table and venturing towards your thighs. The chill meets your skin with the flat length of the weapon, though her hand rises enough to slant the dagger and poke the sharp point into your skin. Had your mouth been free, you certainly would’ve been forced to give some small hiss of discomfort, but you’re thankful for her lip’s presence working as a preventative. 

The point is drawn down, and then curves inward, and then is drawn out again – soon, there’s five slightly curved lines of blood on your thigh, but she’s not yet done. Two lines in the middle are what it takes to complete it, and the pinching pain serves as an assistant in keeping you awake, making you grateful for the branding in more ways than one. Despite not being able to see her work, the web design imprinted on your thigh is a perfect recreation of the mark that she bears on her own skin. Minthara pulls out of the kiss, and you release her with a quiet whine, your mind too preoccupied with the challenge of staying awake to bother splitting your attention to prevent your own natural pleading. 

Fortunately, the general doesn’t seem to mind – in fact, she grins, raising an eyebrow and tilting her head at you, as if surprised by your minor show of desperation. “Poison caught your tongue, dark one? Oh, do indulge me; what is it that you crave?” She asks, an unusual curiosity admitted in her tone. 

Well, there’s only one answer for that question. It’s a simple one. “You.”

“Me?” She clarifies, and you nod – sleepily, thanks entirely to the effects of the barely diluted poison, though you suppose your confusion isn’t helping. “What about me? Which part of me do you desire? My hands? My tongue? My blade, perhaps?” Her hand releases some of the tension around your throat, tracing your arteries under her fingers until she cradles your jaw, angling your head upwards as she awaits her answer. Her thumb crosses your lower lip, wiping it clean of lingering poison, though it has no effect on what you already ingested. 

Again, the question isn’t a difficult one, even in your faded state. “All of you, my General,” you elaborate, your eyes trailing down towards the hand that wields the dagger, but a tug on your chin is enough for your gaze to snap back onto the drow. 

“Do not get distracted, xi’hum. I have trained you better. We have an audience tonight – do behave. You fight the poison well. It seems you are adapting to the taste,” she praises, her thumb tucking into your mouth, and you blink up at her, staying quiet as she seems to be directing. “As you have so willingly consumed my gift to you, it is only just that I feast upon you in return. After all, a banquet is only complete with a meal. And a meal, I shall have.”

It’s not entirely clear if the butterflies in your stomach are due to your excitement or the poison beginning to digest, but either way, they’re a pleasant and welcome sensation, and Minthara is quick to catch onto the smile that they bring across your lips. Her thumb pulls away from your mouth and glides down to the very bottom of your stomach, her palm located just under your belly button as it presses you into the table, earning a momentary squirm from you. Once you settle, she leans down, her other hand firmly holding your marked thigh, and once she’s close enough, her tongue sweeps over the wound, collecting the spilled blood. Her eyes close in order to truly savor the taste, and her hand squeezes, pushing out as much blood as possible. 

Perhaps due to your light-headedness, or maybe just how much she seems to be enjoying it, the feeling is strangely pleasant – despite what your short whine may lead the audience to believe, the warmth of her tongue over the cuts is oddly comforting, even if it is joined by the faintest of irritated stings. You don’t see a world in which it would be possible to not let your mind drift, anticipation and elation curling into a fantasy of what is sure to soon play out, once Minthara deems you desperate enough to earn the gift of her mouth’s company on your core. Unfortunately, that time hasn’t come, and dreaming of it only makes you squirm with expected neediness. Minthara reminds you of her plans with a soothing, yet firm, “Patience, dark one.” 

And patient you are – as patient as one can be when they’re displayed so lovingly over a table of prying eyes, teased by the expertly dangerous (and expertly attractive) General Minthara, left powerless until she permits further pleasure. Every movement of hers is a carefully planned test, either of your obedience or your control; meticulous, gentle trailing of the tip of her dagger over your underwear, enough to tease what’s beneath without so much as catching a single thread of the fabric. She trails kisses up and across your thighs, her lips claiming every inch except the place that so terribly needs her attention. 

The flat width of the blade presses against the length of your underwear, and you flinch just barely, earning a ‘tsk’ of disapproval from Minthara. You fall still once more, finally letting your eyes squeeze closed, your head tilting back as you try to divide your focus between fighting the poison and fighting your reflexes. You feel an unfamiliar, trivial chill brought on by the removal of cover, and you lift your head in time to catch Minthara pulling your underwear away from your skin with her knife, slicing it on the blade in a quick tug. Her eyes meet yours, and the point of her weapon presses against your throat, tilting your chin up towards her. “Tell me, my love. Who is it that controls you? Who is it that you belong to?”

“You, General Minthara.” 

She chuckles, drawing the edge under your chin, enough to cause a scratch without spilling any blood. “What a good girl.” Her praise is followed by the removal of the blade against your skin, and she sets it aside, instead pulling up her chair and placing her hands on the outside of your thighs, tugging you a little bit closer to the edge of the table. Your knees hang on her shoulders, and soon her hands slide up to hold your hips, thumbs pressing bruises into the soft skin they rest on. “Sing my name as I command, and pleasure shall be yours,” she promises, kissing your thigh once more. 

Your head falls back once more, and she only allows you to lay in wait for a few seconds before her tongue runs over your folds with the same meticulous precision that she exercised when tasting your mark. Your ankles lock where they rest on her back, trying to pull her in closer, but she only chuckles at your attempt, the near purr against your skin sending a shiver up your spine. Though she’s hardly even begun, you feel all of the anticipation paying off, your high standards miraculously met, and you hum out “General,” in an effort to earn further pleasure. 

Minthara obliges, letting her tongue bathe your clit, the movements nothing short of loving despite how intensely violent and unapologetically rough she could be, though that side of her is still ever-present, especially as she runs her teeth over your clit, threatening to introduce a pinch amongst the pleasure. 

Partially in an effort to avoid facing the attention of the surrounding True Souls, you close your eyes, which also causes all of your attention to be drawn to the sensations between your legs. Just in time, Minthara pulls her tongue back, drawing a long line from the lowest point of your entrance up to your clit, still teasing you before she takes it any further. Her nails aren’t quite as willing to remain on the surface, however, and an accidental squirm earns you eight pricks where her fingers hold your skin, her thumbs settling on merely pressuring their spots. It takes a lot to subdue a whine, though the pain is slight in comparison to the carving of her blade. 

Your ankles thump – gently, nearly disguised as a flinch – against her back, and she chuckles against your skin, refusing to continue just yet. At least, until you sing out a “Please, General” of desperation, to which she replies by finally moving forward, slipping her tongue into you as a form of affirmation. This is hardly the first time the two of you have been in this position, but it never fails to overwhelm you – in all the best ways, of course. 

There’s a tingle on your skin, no doubt a side-effect of the sting of poison, though the slight traces still remaining on her lips are hardly enough for any actual damage or irritation to set in. Just a tingle, enough to prick your skin without genuine danger. Of course, that’s not to say the rest of the dosage wasn’t still in effect, as your eyes felt heavy even despite them being closed. Fortunately, with Minthara lapping up everything your insides had to offer, you were far from at risk of falling asleep. 

Your hands reach down, one holding Minthara’s arm, her grip on your hips tightening in acknowledgement, and the other pushes against her head, encouraging her as best you can without being able to move your hips much. She lets go of your body with one hand, instead her fingers wrap around your arm, keeping it in place. Minthara moves with your eager pushes, and you can feel her smile against your skin, buried beneath the stimulation provided by her tongue. 

It doesn’t take much, or very long – she’s fantastic at giving speeches and winning people over with her words, but it’s hardly the only thing her tongue is gifted at – before you feel yourself approaching the very edge of pleasure itself. You do as she demanded; singing out her title, begging your General for release, and as promised, she doesn’t let up. Every swipe or curl of her tongue is a carefully planned one, completely unraveling your dignity, revealing your desperation before her, and before her devoted followers. 

Your legs tense, pulling her closer and locking her between your thighs, hips rolling as you hit your release, your pitiful whines met with a sinister chuckle from the drow. Once you settle back, you feel her stand and force your legs to unclasp, and you open your eyes to meet hers, her glare simultaneously satisfied and yet still hungry. Your hands fall to your sides, and she leans down, gripping your chin and narrowing her eyes at you. 

“You obeyed. A magnificent show, my darling. Perhaps it will not be your final performance. Certainly not for my eyes,” she praises, pulling your head up enough to capture your lips in a kiss, and your already weakened body isn’t able to do much but melt in her hold, mumbling mindlessly against her mouth. You feel a second hand on your waist once more, and you’re pulled to sit up, your legs locking around her hips. The kiss breaks, and she glances around at the audience, contemplating something before she speaks. “Finish your meal as you wish. There is excess wine in the kitchen. Your general must finish a banquet of her own.” 

Those around you either snicker or mumble understandings as Minthara moves her hand from your throat to your waist, lifting you off of the table. Immediately, you wrap your arms around her shoulders and lean into her, allowing her to carry you off, letting your high fade in the journey back up to your quarters.

[untoldreader]

Entangled Hearts

Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary

The bond between Wanda, Natasha, and Y/N deepens, igniting a passionate and complex love triangle. Their hearts become entangled in a web of desire, leaving them torn between their feelings and the consequences that lie in wait

Warnings

none?

Tag list

@nayarianna1302 @alexawynters @tigerlillyruiz

Chapter 3: Entangled Hearts

As our journey continued, the bond between Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, and I grew stronger with each passing day. We found ourselves entangled in a web of emotions, navigating the complexities of our evolving relationships.

One evening, we gathered in Wanda's cozy apartment, seeking solace in each other's company. The room was filled with a mixture of anticipation and unspoken desires. We knew that the time had come to address the growing feelings that simmered beneath the surface.

"I can't deny the depth of my emotions for both of you," I admitted, my voice filled with vulnerability. "Wanda, your warmth and compassion draw me in. Natasha, your enigmatic allure captivates me. I feel torn, caught between two extraordinary women."

Wanda reached out, her hand gently resting on mine. "Y/N, we understand the complexity of your feelings," she said, her eyes filled with empathy. "We, too, have found ourselves navigating this intricate dance of love and desire. It's not an easy path, but we're in this together."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her expression a mix of understanding and longing. "Y/N, your presence in our lives has awakened feelings I thought were long buried," she confessed. "But we must tread carefully, for love can be both beautiful and destructive. We need to find balance."

The weight of their words settled upon me, and I realized the challenges that lay ahead. Love had the power to heal and destroy, to bind and break. We had to navigate the delicate balance of our hearts while honoring the trust and respect that existed between us.

Days turned into weeks as we explored the depths of our emotions. We laughed, we cried, and we shared moments of intimacy that transcended the physical realm. Our love triangle defied conventional norms, and we forged a unique connection that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Yet, shadows loomed over our budding relationship—shadows of our pasts and the secrets we carried. We knew that in order to move forward, we had to confront the haunting whispers of desire and the lingering doubts that threatened to tear us apart.

"It's time we face the truth," Wanda said, her voice filled with determination. "We cannot build a future on a foundation of lies and unspoken secrets. We owe it to ourselves and to each other to be honest."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her gaze unwavering. "We must trust that our love can withstand the revelations that lie ahead," she added. "Only by embracing the truth can we truly find the happiness we all deserve."

With renewed resolve, we embarked on a journey of introspection and revelation. We bared our souls, unveiling the hidden corners of our pasts and the fears that held us captive. It was a painful process, but it also brought us closer, strengthening the threads that bound our hearts together.

≈========================≈

Chapter 3 marked a pivotal moment in our story. Through heartfelt conversations, we acknowledged the complexity of our emotions and the challenges we faced. We recognized the importance of trust, honesty, and confronting our pasts as we sought to find balance and forge a path forward. Our hearts were entangled, and we would navigate this love triangle with open hearts and unwavering determination.

[andradrawsstuff]

Third chapter of my fic ✨

Uhhhhh, this is a bit of a long one lmao but I promise the story picks up the pace a little here

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Fate is a funny thing, isn’t it?

The engine of the toy car buzzed as they sped down Jefferson Street, turning heads and almost causing a few car crashes along the way. The smell of salty sea air grew stronger the closer they drove to the shoreline. This smell was bliss to the birds. They do love fish, after all. The sky was a beautiful azure blue and the breeze was lovely in the scorching heat. Seagulls squawked and shouted profanities in the distance, circling tourists in hopes of snatching some food, and cars started to gather round the pier. They were here. They stood before pier 39 and the Aquarium of the Bay, admiring the grand infrastructure. Parking their car in the parking lot, they took up an entire slot for their miniature vehicle, which no doubt would have infuriated someone. But alas, they marched on.

“So, what exactly are we looking for, Kowalski?” Asked Private

He replied joyfully. “Uh… honestly, I’m not entirely sure!”

“You’re kidding?” Skipper chipped in.

Rico mumbled some sort of iteration of “Dear me…”

Ironically, Kowalski had spent so much time trying to find this thing, only to have no idea what it actually looks like. All he had to go off of was a tracker and some information Phil and Mason translated from the dark web in some library in Toledo. Very reliable. Either way, they made their way through the dark blue aquarium, dodging humans and trying to camouflage. They passed the bustling touchpools and entered the gallery, spotting a seemingly vacant habitat they could lay low in. Kowalski set up his tracker and attempted to figure out what it was showing.

“Are you sure that thing works properly?” Private commented.

Kowalski was offended. “Wh- of course it does! Why wouldn’t it?”

Private raised a brow. Kowalski got the message. As the two debated the efficiency of Kowalski’s inventions, Skipper noticed Rico who seemed on edge. He stepped closer, only to feel a growing presence lurking in the shadows. They exchanged a glance. Rico choked up a wooden bat and Skipper assumed a combat position. Soft, slow steps grew closer and closer, as the boys braced themselves for an ambush – the other two completely unaware and still continuing their discussion, until the shadow suddenly revealed itself.

“Hi!”

Skipper pounced onto the lurker, throwing question after question at them with such speed that they could be considered brute force.

“Hya! Yelled Skipper. “Who are you? What do you want? Who do you work for? Dave? Classified? The government of Denmark?” He aggressively interrogated and shook the lurker. “ANSWER ME, MAN!”

“WHAT? NO! WHO ARE YOU? LET ME GO, YOU ASSHAT!” Replied the figure.

The others stood in shock as they watched the events unfold in front of them. They froze, Private signalling for him to turn around. Skipper looked at the boys in confusion, still gripping the poor creature. He slowly turned to the victim in front of him, quietly scanning them. They had a long, sleek build and dark chestnut fur with an almond neck and marking on the right foot. He studied their face, attempting to profile the exact species. Front-facing eyes, round snout, pink nose and a little fang protruding from the mouth - but only one. Lutra lutra. In the grips of Skipper was a mere… Eurasian river otter. A TERRIFIED one, at that. It was Dublin all over again.

“Oh…” He painfully murmured. Skipper let go and looked back and forth at the boys, then the otter. He seemed to be re-evaluating his life choices in a flash.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, I LIVE HERE!” She yelled.

Skipper mustered up the courage to reply. “So… you’re not here to take the thingy?”

The otter was as confused as ever. “What thingy? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She panicked.

Skipper realised his mistake – he just attacked an innocent civilian.

“Shit.”

Kowalski explained that they were looking for a special “element”, keeping most details to a minimum. He showed the otter his tracker and explained what they were looking for was somewhere in this aquarium, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding. She looked confused, but offered some advice.

“Okay, I have no idea who you guys are,” She stated. “But in hopes of you leaving me alone, I will say that down the hall, there is a dolphin.” They listened intently. “A mad scientist dolphin, if you will. Your thing seems pretty sciency, so go ask that guy instead.”

“Much obliged.” Skipper awkwardly saluted.

Private apologised for his brother’s behaviour. “Sorry about Skippa,” He uttered. “He can get a little… paranoid.”

The otter rolled her eyes as they left one by one, only to chip in with a word of advice. “Oh, hey, wait up!” They paused and turned to her. “If you guys see another otter there, just be careful. He gets a little… snackish.” She urged. Ha, that won’t be a problem for the boys, though. They’re the elitest of the elite. They confidently marched on to continue their quest.

As they closed in on the entrance to the dolphin habitat, an eerie emptiness filled the atmosphere. No fish, no animals, just a tank full of dull plastic coral with paint chipping off and a hilariously fake volcano. Whoever lived here must be miserable. Despite the huge size of the tank, no one could have a good quality of life in here. It was too depressing. The silence seemed to echo on forever too. Was that otter sure someone actually lived here? Even a mad scientist needs some sort of liveable space in their life, and this was not it. Either way, this had to be it. Kowalski’s tracker was the only thing to break the silence, pinging louder than ever before. The core was here… but finding it would be a challenge.

Skipper took a plunge into the water. Kowalski gave his tracker to Rico who swallowed it for safekeeping, and the rest of the penguins followed their leader. They swam around scanning for something. Nothing. This place was as empty as the Atacama desert. They almost gave up hope until they saw something hidden behind the fake volcano. It looked like… a cave entrance? It was odd, but they closed in on it. They paused and exchanged glances. They pressed on, only to surface inside the fake volcano. After glancing around, they saw that it was so much more alive than outside. Screens built across the walls, different contraptions thrown around, test tubes with multicolour liquids decorating the entire space, and lobsters everywhere. Is this where everyone went? Either way, this was obviously some sort of secret lair.

Rico started mumbling incoherently, pointing towards his belly which was vibrating vigorously.

“The tracker!” Kowalski remembered. “We must be really close!”

The sound of tires echoed around the room, as a squeaky voice called out. “Otto! Get down here, look what I’ve found!”

The penguins quickly dipped behind a rock to conceal themselves. The sound of tires grew louder and a huge menacing shadow blocked the only light source. This must have been him. That mad scientist. The penguins quietly observed the aquatic mammal as he seemed to be riding some sort of segway. It looked a little ridiculous, to say the least. Whilst the others were peering at the segway, Kowalski spotted something he was holding.

“That’s it!” Kowalski shouted quietly. “That’s the core!”

Skipper wasn’t fully convinced. “Are you sure? It just looks like a metal ball…”

“Yes!!” He exclaimed. “It’s what’s inside that’s important. I’d recognise a radioactive container anywhere, and let me tell you… that is it.”

Private chipped in. “Okay, but how do we get it?” He was asking the real questions. “It’s not like we can just waltz in and take it!”

A wide grin stretched across Skipper’s face. “Maybe we can…”

Uh oh. The others could feel another one of those elaborate Skipper schemes coming along. There was a difference between their leader’s plans, though. There were the meticulous and elaborate schemes, and then there were the loud and impulsive schemes. The three grew concerned, as Skipper’s grin only widened as he scanned his surroundings. This plan, seemed to be the latter. But little did they know that this split-second decision would determine their future for many years to come.

“Rico,” Skipper ordered. “We’re gonna need some grappling hooks.”

Rico wasn’t as concerned as the other two. He thrived off impulsivity and chaos. If one person was up for the task without a fuss, it was Rico. He barfed out some sticks of dynamite in sheer excitement and asked the legendary question.

“K-kaboom?” His mouth watered as he turned to skipper, practically twitching.

“Yes, Rico. Kaboom.”

Kowalski and Private exchanged a concerned glance.

“Take a stick of dynamite or two.” Skipper commanded as he handed out the explosives to his team. “We’ll split up, one in each corner of the room, and set them off one by one.” He continued. “Kowalski, you take the top right. Rico, bottom right. Private, bottom left. And I… top left.”

Private questioned Skipper’s plan. “Skippa, what exactly are we trying to do? I don’t see how this has anything to do with taking the core-thingy…”

Kowalski chipped in. “A distraction.” It finally clicked.

“Bingo.” Uttered Skipper

Rico was practically vibrating at this point. He couldn’t wait much longer. “K-kaboom… ka…BOOM! HAHAHA, KABOOM!!”

Skipper ordered them to split up before things went awry. They slid over to their respective corners, and planted their explosives, waiting for Skipper’s signal. Kowalski studied his surroundings, unable to help the slight feelings of jealousy taking over. This place was decked with cool gadgets and fancy tools. Everything looked so professional. “Why do the bad guys always get the good stuff?” he thought. He had to stop and remind himself of his task at hand – creating a distraction.

Skipper placed the last stick of dynamite and scanned the colourful room. He pointed to Rico, who was eagerly awaiting his signal. It was kaboom time. Rico coughed up a lighter and lit the explosives, quickly grappling away. It was showtime. The dolphin was driving around his lair, holding what the boys presumed to be the core. He paused for a moment, admiring himself in the shiny silver reflection of the metal orb. He grinned. He then pressed a purple button on his segway, when out of nowhere – KABOOM!

“WHAT THE-“ He steadied himself, processing what just happened. “Charlie!” he shouted for his lobster henchman. “What the hell was that?”

The lobster was unable to speak before another BANG could be heard, only now in the top right of the room. The dolphin sent more lobsters to investigate both sites of explosion. But before they could reach, a third KABOOM shook them. This was strange, he thought. How could all of his inventions suddenly set off and explode in one go? He was sure they were all wired correctly and that no water had come into contact with them. And finally, the last KABOOM echoed from the top left. The commotion seemed to catch the attention of another resident of the secret lair, one that the boys were warned about – a large, caramel-brown North American river otter with a sandy neck, sleek build and pointy black nose. He was just as confused as the dolphin.

“What… is going on here?” He asked urgently with a husky, gravelly voice and arms flailing up and down. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, ‘what did I do?’ Do you really think that I would BLOW UP MY OWN PLACE, OTTO?” The mad scientist yelled back.

Admittedly, this did seem a bit extra. Perhaps two explosions would have been enough to create the same desired effect, but alas, these were the penguins after all. “Extra” was their middle name. They witnessed the argument taking place between the two aquatic mammals, all whilst the core was still in the dolphin’s flippers. Skipper saw the window of opportunity, and went straight for it. His grappling hook shot towards a crevice in the ceiling, latching on securely. He tugged it to ensure it was safe, and he swung towards the clueless dolphin. A ‘clunk’ was heard as his flipper smacked the hollow metal container, sweeping it from the dolphin’s grasp like the wind.

“Yoink!” He shouted cheekily.

“WHAT THE-“ Exclaimed the dolphin in sheer bewilderment.

“Thank you for your service!” Skipper winked, with swagger in his stance.

The dolphin was at a loss for words, struggling to form a sentence that was urgent enough. “Wh- but my… oh, for the love of- GET THEM!!” He pointed.

Skipper swung over to Private, passing the orb over to him. Still swinging, he shouted to his brother. “Rico, Boston us!”

“Wahoo!!” He squealed. He choked up some sort of MP3 player and fiddled with it for a few seconds.

The room was utter chaos. Penguins swinging all over the place, lobsters running around aimlessly, and the dolphin and the otter frozen in complete disbelief. Nothing could get worse, they thought. Until…

“It’s more than a feeling!”

Now, nothing could get worse. The lobsters resorted to stacking themselves in order to reach those pesky birds, which pushed them to swing around even more aimlessly, destroying an array of things in the process. As the lobsters reached to reclaim the core, the penguins passed it to each other like it was a game of hot potato. The scene turned from chaos to pandemonium. What little remnants of order that were there had been completely eradicated. Rico coughed up more dynamite to throw around, and Private created piles of knocked-out lobsters. Skipper swung around carefree with a flipper reaching out, smashing every last test tube. All while Kowalski tip-toed his way out with the orb, as instructed by Skipper when they claimed it. This was the real distraction. By the time he reached the exit, the whole lair was in complete disarray, not a single ounce of peace in sight. He waved to the rest of the team, who swiftly made their way over. The dolphin spotted the small thief and grew enraged.

“No one steals from me, especially not some two-bit, teeny-weeny birds like you!!” He roared.

“Hehe! Sorry to burst your bubble, Mr Ocean Man, but…” Skipper replied arrogantly.

It was too late. They already reached the exit, loosening some rubble to block the exit. All he could do was watch as they swam away with his precious orb containing his all-powerful elemental core. All the dolphin could feel was fury. No… fury and a thirst for vengeance.

“Urgh! My name is Doctor Blowhole… and you will RUE this day, I swear to you, pengu-ins!!”

The four rushed to the surface, jumping out and hopping their way through the aquarium towards the exit. They reached the parking lot and sprung into their car which was still taking up an entire parking space. They placed the orb in the middle back seat like it was a living being. Of course, they had to stop for a mandatory hi-one session.

“Good work, boys.” Praised Skipper. “Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“And never return?” Hoped Private.

“Agreed.” Added the other three.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Love, Lunacy, Time: Ch 2

summary: As the front door swings open, you are greeted by faces that stir a sense of recognition deep within you. Yet, something about their demeanor feels off, their behavior slightly peculiar. It's as if they are familiar, but not quite themselves. With each passing interaction, you begin to realize that there's more to Westview than meets the eye. The town holds secrets, and the allure grows stronger, drawing you deeper into its intricate web.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.

previous

If it were any other situation, you would've gladly admired the beautifully decorated house you find yourself in. It's not every day that one finds themselves waking up within the walls of a meticulously decorated home in 1953.

Marc guides you down the wooden flight of stairs, ensuring that he takes the lead while keeping you safely behind him. You had observed the subtle shift in demeanor and accent as Steven relinquished control to Marc, and now you witness the embodiment of that change as Marc confidently leads the way.

When your eyes come in contact with the living room, you find yourself surrounded by an atmosphere that exudes warmth and comfort. The furniture, tastefully arranged in cozy clusters, invites you to take a seat and unwind. Plush, upholstered sofas and armchairs with floral patterns, beckon you to sink into their embrace.

The coffee table in the center of the room is adorned with a delicate lace doily, and a vase filled with freshly picked flowers sits as its centerpiece. The scent of the blossoms permeates the air, infusing the room with a natural sweetness.

Nearby, a wooden side table holds a stack of magazines, inviting you to peruse their pages and discover the latest trends and stories. You also notice a bookcase against the wall, filled with volumes of classic literature and well-loved novels.

The walls are adorned with framed black and white photographs, capturing cherished moments frozen in time. Pictures of you and your husbands. Smiles and laughter frozen in frames.

A long, white butler door stands on one wall, dividing the space between the living room and what you can assume is the kitchen. Next to the door, there's a three-paneled wood shutter that covers a pass-through window.

The windows, draped with floral patterned curtains, allow soft sunlight to filter into the room, casting a warm glow on the polished hardwood floor.

Nestled at the corner of the fireplace, within view of the sofa, stands a television, similar to the one you saw in the bedroom. Atop it sits a beautiful photograph of you, smiling at the camera.

Every corner of the living room holds a personal touch as if someone took great care in creating a haven of comfort and memories. Despite the unfamiliarity of the surroundings, a feeling of warmth and belonging begins to stir within you.

In the reflective surfaces scattered throughout the living room and the entrance area, you catch glimpses of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their reassuring smiles provide a comforting presence amidst the unknown.

But Marc's firm hand gently guides you toward the front door, diverting your attention from the comforting reflections. With each step, your senses heighten, and a sense of anticipation builds within you Marc reaches for the doorknob, his hand steady and composed. With a gentle turn, the door creaks open, revealing a sight that both shocks and relieves you in equal measure.

In front of you stand Layla and Bucky, their figures silhouetted against the soft glow of the morning sunlight streaming through the open door. They stand closely, their arms intertwined, and a bouquet of vibrant flowers rests gently in Layla's arm.

Marc's eyes fall upon Layla, a bit shocked by the dress she's wearing. The knee-length, short-sleeved dress is made of a soft, pastel blue fabric and the neckline is modest, with a rounded collar. The dress cinches at the waist, before flowing gently outward in a flattering A-line silhouette.

Layla is wearing low-heeled shoes and her curly hair is styled in an updo. Her wild curls still manage to peak out. This is the first time Marc has seen Layla embrace such a feminine look since he met her.

Your gaze lingers on Bucky, unable to tear your eyes away from your best friend. Don't let Loki hear you. That Drama Queen will prank you to the world's end. However, you can't deny the fact that you are caught off guard by Bucky's look.

For the first time since you met him back in 2013 when he was still the Winter Soldier, you have never seen his hair so short. Nor have you seen him in a suit and such a wide grin on his face. Your best friend only smiles like that for Alpine or if there are plums.

"Oh, my stars and garters! Look at you two lovebirds! Ain't you a dashing couple?" Layla greets you and Marc with a cheerful smile, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "We're your neighbours to the right. Our right, not yours."

Bucky steps forward, his grin widening, and extends his hand to Marc. "At your service, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you can just call me Bucky," he introduces himself with a hint of old-fashioned charm. "And this lovely dame by my side is my beautiful bride, Layla."

As you steal a glance at the mirror behind you, you catch sight of Steven and Jake's reflections. Their faces bear expressions of utter bewilderment, their gazes fixed upon Layla with a mix of surprise and shock, undoubtedly taken aback by her unexpected behavior. "What in the world?" you hear Steven exclaim from the mirror, his confusion mirroring your own.

Marc's eyes widen in astonishment, his brow furrowing as he struggles to comprehend what is going on. He can't help but echo Steven's sentiment. Why the hell is Layla talking like this? Sure, she had been exploring the dating scene, but married?

Marc hesitates for a moment, his confusion evident on his face, before he extends his hand to shake Bucky's in silence. His eyes dart between Layla's cheerful expression and Bucky's charismatic demeanor, struggling to find the right words in this peculiar situation.

Bucky, still grinning from ear to ear, releases Marc's hand and turns his attention to you. "Well, well, well, if it ain't the blushing bride herself," he says with a playful wink. "Layla here couldn't stop gushing about the two of you. Said you weren't able to keep your hands off each other in the lawn while moving furniture and whatnot."

Layla playfully swats her husband's chest, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Oh, darling, would you look at them now? Still in their nightwear and as quiet as church mice! I do declare, they must have had themselves a jolly late night, if you catch my drift!"

Bucky, his eyes widening in mock astonishment, puts a hand to his chest in an exaggerated display of shock. "Well, I'll be! Late nights and quiet mornings, eh? Seems like our new neighbors here know how to keep the fire burning, even in the wee hours!"

hearty laughter

The sudden, uproarious laughter rings throughout the room, catching you completely off guard. It emerges seemingly out of nowhere, startling you with its unexpectedness.

You exchange puzzled glances with Marc, your eyes widening in surprise as the laughter continues, echoing through the living room. Both you and Marc are left bewildered, unable to understand where it's coming from.

Bucky and Layla, however, remain unaffected, their smiles unwavering as they carry on their conversation, oblivious to the inexplicable laughter surrounding them. Marc and Jake both snap into a state of hypervigilance, their body instinctively tensing up. In a moment of instinctive connection, Marc's hand instinctively seeks yours, intertwining your fingers together.

Layla raises an eyebrow and glances at your intertwined hands with a playful smirk. "Well, I do declare, looks like our lovebirds here can't keep their hand off each other!"

Bucky turns to Layla with a wistful smile, his voice filled with fond memories. "It reminds me of us, darling. Do you recall that first week after we tied the knot? I simply couldn't bear to be apart from you, so I took a whole week off work, much to the boss's chagrin!"

"Don't remind me, honey," Layla says, her tone tinged with playful exasperation. Her gaze falls upon the bouquet of vibrant flowers still cradled in her arms, a realization dawning on her. "Oh, look at that, I still haven't given this to our neighbors. And they still haven't introduced themselves to us. You and Marc exchange a quick glance, silently communicating your decision. It's best to maintain the illusion and introduce yourselves as if you are a couple living in this era. You two need to figure out where you are before you go revealing everything.

It's clear that Layla and Bucky are unaware of who you and Marc truly are. They have no knowledge of the fact that Marc is good friends with Layla or that Bucky is your best friend. You give Marc a reassuring nod, a silent message to convey your support, and he takes a step forward, gently squeezing your hand as if to gather strength.

With the warmest smile Marc can muster, ensuring it appears genuine and welcoming, he glances at Bucky and Layla, careful not to appear stiff or forced. "Thank you, Bucky and Layla for the warm welcome and the beautiful flowers," Marc says, graciously accepting the bouquet from Layla, "My name's Marc Spector." He then turns his gaze towards you, gesturing for you to introduce yourself.

You warmly smile at the two, before stating your name and saying, "We really appreciate your warm welcome and the lovely flowers. It's great to meet friendly neighbors like you."

Layla speaks with genuine enthusiasm as she responds, "Oh, you're most welcome, dear! It's our pleasure to make you feel at home. We're so glad to have you as our neighbors."

Bucky gives a firm nod, a determined glint in his eyes, before speaking in a protective tone, "You two just give us a holler if anyone's giving you the slightest trouble, and I'll take care of them.”

You bit back a smile, silently acknowledging Bucky's protective offer. It seems that even in this unfamiliar setting, Bucky's instinct to protect his friends remains unchanged.

"Thank you, Bucky," you reply with a genuine smile, appreciating the sentiment behind his words. "We feel lucky to have such caring neighbors. We'll definitely let you know if we need any help."

Layla claps her hands together. "Oh, I do hope we'll be the best of friends, dearie! Why, we'll have tea parties and garden luncheons, and who knows what other delightful gatherings we can plan together?"

Bucky turns to Layla and gallantly plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, his voice filled with admiration. "Oh, my darling, you've sparked a brilliant idea within me."

Layla gazes at Bucky, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue from the kiss on her cheek, “Pray, do tell, my love. What idea has taken hold of your imaginative mind?"

Bucky turns to you and Marc, his wide grin showcasing his excitement. "Why don't we continue this warm welcome and celebrate our newfound friendship over a delightful dinner? I must say, my dear, Layla and I would be absolutely honored to dine at your place this evening."

"Absolutely! It would be our honor to share a meal with our charming new neighbors. We'll bring a bottle of our finest wine to toast to our newfound friendship!" Layla adds while nodding her head in agreement.

You and Marc exchange another glance, both surprised by the swift invitation and the seemingly unchangeable plans already set in motion. You had hoped for a moment to gather your thoughts and discuss the situation privately, but it seems that Bucky and Layla have other ideas.

As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.

Your mind races, trying to find a way to politely decline their invitation without revealing too much. But before you can utter a word, Layla playfully interrupts, "Oh, now don't you worry your pretty little heads, dearies! We've already decided. Tonight, at seven o'clock, we shall grace your doorstep for a delightful dinner together."

Bucky steps forward, extending his arm toward you, inviting you to take it. "Until tonight then, my dear neighbors," he says with a charming smile. "We'll leave you to get settled and prepare for our grand gathering. Farewell for now!"

You and Marc, still slightly stunned, manage to bid them goodbye, your words laced with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Farewell, Layla and Bucky. We'll see you tonight," you say, trying to maintain composure while secretly wondering how you'll navigate this unexpected dinner party.

As Layla and Bucky bid you goodbye, their cheerful voices ringing in your ears, you find yourselves momentarily stunned. The rapid pace at which events unfolded has left you little room to process the situation or devise a plan.

Marc's grip on your hand tightens, mirroring the tension in his expression. You can sense the unease and confusion within him, mirroring your own thoughts. As the door closes behind Bucky and Layla, enveloping you in a momentary silence, the weight of the situation begins to settle upon you.

You take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing thoughts. This unexpected turn of events has left you grappling with a myriad of questions. How did you end up in this meticulously decorated house in 1953? What happened to bring you here? And most importantly, how do you navigate this unfamiliar era without arousing suspicion or revealing your true identities?

The living room, once a haven of warmth and comfort, now feels foreign and daunting. The photographs on the walls that once showcased cherished moments now appear as enigmatic artifacts from a distant past. The scent of the flowers, once pleasant and inviting, now serves as a reminder of the surreal nature of your current reality.

You turn to face Marc, his eyes searching yours for answers that neither of you possesses. In the midst of uncertainty, you find solace in the fact that you have each other. Your connection, forged through shared experiences and the inexplicable journey that led you here, provides a sense of strength and unity.

Silently, you communicate your desire to retreat from the unfamiliarity of the living room, to find a moment of respite and privacy. Without exchanging words, you both make your way back up the wooden flight of stairs, seeking the familiarity of the bedroom you woke up in.

Once inside the room, you close the door behind you, shutting out the outside world for a brief moment. The air feels heavy with anticipation as you turn to face each other, the weight of the situation palpable.

"I can't believe this is happening," Marc finally breaks the silence, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and concern. "We need to figure out what's going on and how we ended up in the 50s. But we have to be careful. If Layla and Bucky suspect that something is wrong, it could complicate things.”

You nod in agreement, fully aware of the delicate nature of your predicament. "We need to gather information discreetly, without raising any suspicions," you suggest, your mind racing with possibilities. "Maybe we can explore the house further, look for clues or any hints of how we got here. We should also try to find a way to communicate with Steven and Jake without alerting anyone else."

Marc paces the room, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "Yes, that's a good plan. We need to be careful and gather as much information as we can before taking any action. It might be helpful to see if we can find any documents or personal belongings could tell us how we're connected to them."

You both share a moment of quiet contemplation, aware of the challenges that lie ahead. The thought of venturing into this unknown world, where every action and word must be carefully measured, fills you with a mix of trepidation and determination.

"We'll figure this out, together," you say, your voice filled with conviction.

Marc's eyes meet yours, a spark of resilience and trust igniting between you. "You're right," he replies, a glimmer of determination shining in his gaze. "No matter where or when we are, we'll always find a way. We'll navigate this mystery and return to our own time, I promise."

With a renewed sense of purpose, you and Marc prepare to face the challenges that lie ahead. The search for answers begins, and as you step back into the unknown, you know that your bond and unwavering determination will guide you through whatever obstacles may come your way.

The first obstacle being dinner with the Barnes.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

taglist: @lalalily03, @cicithemess2000, @elliewilliamswhore

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[stoney053]

“It’s canon, you can’t fight it.”

- Miguel x Spiderwoman! reader

- Warnings: None really? Angst, fluffy, death, some spoilers but not really, Miguel is so fine.

Summary!

Y/n has to witness the worst canon event as a spiderman. Miguel gets soft for her and comforts her pretty much.

- Authors note!

This is my first time posting any of my work! Its pretty short, fast, and cute heehe. Feel free to like/share it means a lot 🫶🏻. Hope you enjoy!!

————————————————

“Shit.” Y/n whispered to herself looking at her phone mid swing, seeing all the texts from her Dad made her head hurt before even hearing him. She frantically swung home preparing herself for the lecture she was about to endure. As soon as she got through the window she threw on sweats and a hoodie to conceal her spider-suit. She swung around the building with her mask still concealing her identity. After sneakily entering her apartment through the front door she was met by the wall of raft standing infront of her. “I know, I’m sorry. I just lost track of time..” She gently said as nicely as she was capable of.

“You’re grounded. A month.” Her dad spoke sternly with authority in his voice. Probably not the best thing about having a cop for a dad.. Y/n couldn’t protest the punishment, but she could work around it. She nodded and walked to her bedroom, an expression of defeat plastered on her face trying to show some type of guilt to her dad. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stay trapped in her room for a month even if she wanted too. Yet alone a whole day.

—

The next night consisted of fighting an ancient villain from some other dimension. It was stronger than her and the constant hollering from the NYPD was not helping. She attempted to web the creature, and attacking him while he was off guard. It wasn’t enough though. Then a familiar voice threw her off completely, one she hadn’t heard in years. Y/n lost all attention in the creature as she searched for the source, but couldn’t find it. The search was interrupted by the villain shooting stone blades at her. She dogged the hits nearly in time as she watched them collide with webs? The webs were followed by an exhausted looking Peter B. Parker. “Hey, kid. Been a while” He greeted her with a smile and open arms. She ran into his arms she almost knocked him over. The hug was cut short by the monster coming to attack the pair. They quickly took him down and Peter put him in some sort of red cage that made him stop glitching and trapped him.

After Peter explained everything to Y/n she was confused, but excited knowing that there were so many more people just like her. “You have to take me with you, please! That sounds amazing!” She exclaimed, practically begging him. He sighed with a half smile. How can one trip for the kid hurt? Peter thought to himself. Sure Miguel might flip his shit but he’ll get over it.

“Oh God I’m gonna be sick” She groaned holding her stomach as she stepped out the portal into a huge dark room with a floating platform. A tall man leaned over the side already looking furious. She met his eyes and immediately stopped feeling nauseous, she was to consumed by the fear caused by the intimidating man above her.

Peter broke the silence first. “Oh Miguel! I brought a friend back… This is Y/n, you know the spider woman I’ve told you about” He tried to sound casual even though anyone could hear the regret and nervousness in his voice. All Miguel did was raise an eyebrow and look back at her. He was already at their level and he stepped closer to her, his face a bit calm now. Peter looked at him dumbfounded, why wasn’t he furious?

He held his stare on her till he was about two feet away from her then he finally spoke. “You aren’t supposed to take anyone here without my permission. No exceptions.” His gaze shifted to Peter, she sighed in relief when his eyes left hers, he was beautiful but God. If looks could kill she would’ve dropped. The conversation between the two Spidermen arguing over her presence carried on. All she could do was watch. She wasn’t even listening just observing Miguel. He looked like a God, she had to hold back as hard as she could from whispering “gyatt” to herself.

Now they were both staring at her while she had her eyes glued on his biceps. Once she realized a few seconds later she looked at Peter as she spoke. “I can just leave it’s no big deal, I don’t want to create any problems” She glanced between the two and Miguel let out a sigh. There was something about her that flipped something in him. Miguel couldn’t figure out if it was the innocence radiating off of her or her whole demeanor.

“Fine. Only today and she better not show up here again.” He finished his statement with that serious expression, almost inches away from Peters face like a scolding father. Peters face lit up and thanked him with a pat on the shoulder. Miguel walked up to Y/n and took her wrist into his hand before placing the wristband on her to prevent her from glitching in the foreign universe.

She smiled looking up at him and watched as he put the band on her. “Thank you so much! You won’t regret it promise!” She followed quickly behind Peter as they left Miguels office both of them gleaming with excitement. Peter couldn’t wait to show his old friend around. While Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off of the security cameras, watching her every move.

—

Once Y/n was back in her dimension she went home and acted as if she had been there all day. Having two parents that work all day made it a lot easier. Her dad should’ve been home by now though. Then almost on cue she heard sirens going past her apartment and a tingle went through her body. Something was wrong, very wrong. She put her suit on and took off out the window following the police cars. A gasp left her mouth as she watched a building beginning to collapse with her father standing directly below it. She swung faster than ever to her dad, then she was hit by something. Miguel. He grabbed her and swung away from the scene. “What are you doing!? I have to get my dad!” She screamed at him trying to get out of his grip. “Miguel let me go!” She continued to yell and hit his chest, tears now streaming down her face beneath her mask. She wasn’t going to make it to him.

He held her against himself not budging. “You can’t save him! You’re putting this whole world at risk!” She didn’t care. His words meant nothing. She kept trying to get away, never taking her eyes off her father. “It’s a canon event if you interfere you could kill everyone.” His voice was ignored. She finally got out of his grip and lunged to her father as the building collapsed on top of him and a few other officers. It was too late. Her crying never stopped as she dug through the debris. She begged and yelled for him but got to him too late. Once she had her father in her arms she sobbed watching as he took his final breath.

Y/n hugged him tightly sobbing against the top of his head. “Dad please.. W-We need you.” She begged through her sobs holding him for the last time before he was taken away by the paramedics. A warm hand was pressed onto her shoulder, startling her slightly. She looked up and met eyes with Miguel. Her sadness was taken over by the rage she felt for him. “You! This is your fault! I could’ve saved him!” She yelled as she stood up and hit his chest. “My dad is dead because of you!” Every word was met with a fist to his chest. He sighed taking every hit, letting her scream at him.

Once she had stopped yelling he attempted to comfort her. He knew she was furious but couldn’t leave her like that. Her body was engulfed in a hug against his chest. She didn’t move, she just cried against him. They had to leave though, he swung away holding her in his firm grasp. “I’m so sorry, cariño. It had to happen.. I’ll explain when we get back” His voice was soft as he set her down on the top of the building he landed on. Her sobs had settled slightly and she held onto him tightly. The only response he got was a small nod. She barely comprehended what he said just knew she needed his explanation about why she had to let her father die.

Miguel threw down a portal and stepped in still holding her. When they arrived at Nueva York they were met with Peter who had been waiting since Miguel left. Once Y/n caught sight of him she hugged him tightly after leaving Miguels arms. She didn’t know how to feel. All she could feel was guilt and rage. If she was capable of it she would kill Miguel right now. Her father was dead because of him. The more these thoughts flooded her head the more furious she grew. She pulled herself out of Peters grasp and faced Miguel, she stared into his slender eyes that looked somewhat sympathetic. “Why would you stop me.. why did you let him die!?” Her words would switch between the saddened and fury. She did her best to hold her tears back but couldn’t hold them very long.

A long sigh was all that left his mouth, his hand flying up to hold his head almost preparing himself for his speech. “It had to happen. It’s part of every spiders story, you couldn’t save him because it would’ve destroyed your entire Earth.” He explained as calmly as he could. “We all had to lose someone..” His words continued as the holograms of many spidermen holding a loved one flashed infront of her view. She observed the scenes playing as confusion washed over her.

Her gaze went back to Miguel, slightly calmer. “Why? Why can’t we stop it? How do you know that would’ve happened?!” The calmness washed away as she flooded him with questions. He didn’t respond, he only played a video of himself with a little girl.

He explained what he had done, how he tried to fight the canon event. She listened intently, the most focused she had been in hours. “Theres no way to stop it. You almost destroyed your world thats why I came. It was either him or billions of people..” She nodded slowly with a few tears streaming down her face. “I wouldn’t have done it if there were no consequences. But I can’t allow you to stop a canon event.” He spoke softly but sternly. As if he was trying to comfort her but still have his authority over her known.

“I understand..” She said barely above a whisper as she looked down away from him. “Why did you take me back here though?” She asked confused. She wasn’t supposed to come back here she thought. Her emotions were finally somewhat under control at the moment.

His eyes never left hers, he wanted to hold her so bad. He knew how hurt she was and he knew that so much of her anger was directed to him. “Because.. We needed to make sure you’re okay” He needed to. He needed to know that he was close to her during this. Of course he couldn’t tell her that, not yet at least. Miguel slowly made his way closer to her and softly placed his hand on her cheek. “If you need anything I’m here.. All you have to do is call me and I’m there.” She nodded as a small tear fell down her face. He wiped away her tear and removed his hand. Peter then took her to her temporary room which only a few rooms away from Miguel. He wanted her as close as possible to him at all times. He needed to be near her, to make sure she was safe and he was there if she needed him.

Once Peter left the room she broke down, she silently sobbed into her pillow. She wished she could’ve saved him but knew it was the only correct choice. Her sobs only got worse, hyperventilating into the blanket trying to muffle her yells. The watch Miguel had given her sent him her vitals due to them being so out of control. He quickly left his room and rushed down the hall to hers. Miguel softly knocked on her door and tried hearing through the door. “Y/n? Can I come in?” He received no response, he could only hear the faint muffled cries. Obviously he wasn’t getting an answer so he opened the door slowly and walked in, closing it behind him. “Hey..” He said quietly as he carefully put his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t want to startle her but wasn’t sure what to do in general. Miguel was never like this, he had no idea why he was acting the way he was. Y/n tried her best to stop crying as she slowly looked up at him. Feeling his touch alone helped calm her down a little. He had no idea what to do now, till she broke down again. “Oh no, y/n.. I’m sorry” He sat beside her on the edge of the bed rubbing her back trying to calm her down. Once her sobs started to slow down he gently pulled her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nearly going limb against his chest. He held her like that, comforting her to his best abilities. Eventually her sobs turned into quiet sniffles getting softer and softer. She felt safe with Miguel, like nothing bad could happen while they were like this.

Y/n slowly looked up at Miguel, her eyes red and puffy from crying so much. “Thank you so much for staying..” She moved her hand up to his face and moved a few stray hairs away from his face and rested her hand on his cheek. She stared at him probably longer than she should have, but couldn’t stop admiring every feature. Her eyes wondered on his lips the longest, they looked so soft and plump, perfect even.

Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by the slight smirk that was displayed on his lips. “I told you I’m always here hermosa” His large hand kept moving up and down her back, never looking away from her face. He thought she was gorgeous but knew she would be dangerous for him, he didn’t care about that though. Slowly he leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. Miguel felt at peace for the first time in years. He let out a long sigh of relief as he pulled her closer against him, practically on his lap.

She smiled hearing his words as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She needed to be close to him. He made her feel so safe and warm. She closed her eyes starting to doze off, till she felt a warm pressure on her lips. It took her a second but quickly realized Miguel had just kissed her.. She kissed back as soon as the realization hit her. Her hand immediately moving to hold his cheek while he hesitantly pulled away. Both of them were met with the other smiling. They both showed genuine happiness for the first time in a long time for both of them. After that, Miguel knew she wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

———————————————-

Thank you sm for reading!!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uBqfx-0xLVA

[instagramquotesss]

Instagram's Power of Hashtags in Honoring Hindu Gods

Introduction

Hashtags are becoming an essential tool for engaging with communities and finding common interests in the dynamic world of Instagram. Using pertinent hashtags can increase the visibility of postings, create a sense of community, and raise knowledge of the rich fabric of Hindu mythology and spirituality for individuals honoring Hindu gods and goddesses. Creating a meaningful collection of hashtags not only pays homage to these deities but also helps close the divide between social media culture today and ancient devotion.Hashtags' Importance in Hindu Devotion

Instagram users can get a lot of inspiration from Hinduism's wide range of deities and ceremonies. The variety of gods and goddesses offers a wealth hindu god hashtags for instagram of material for blogs, from the calm thoughts of Lord Shiva to the prosperity and abundance of Goddess Lakshmi. By aiding in the categorization of content, hashtags such as #Shiva, #Lakshmi, and #Ganesh make it simpler for followers and others with an interest in Hindu spirituality to locate postings on particular deities. For believers, these hashtags serve as more than just labels; they offer a way for them to convey their creative works, prayers, and life stories.

Popular Hindu God Hashtags

Using trending and targeted hashtags can greatly increase the visibility of articles about Hindu gods. For example, the hashtags #LordShiva, #GoddessDurga, #HanumanJi, and #RadhaKrishna are widely used to celebrate festivals and ceremonies and to draw attention to devotion. Each hashtag directs people who are interested in these deities to your material like a light. Additionally, at particular seasons of the year when these deities are revered, hashtags like #Navratri, #Diwali, or #Holi can be used to engage with audiences.

Making Custom Hashtags

While utilizing well-known hashtags is helpful, coming up with original hashtags can help you further customize your content and build stronger community relationships. For example, personal experiences and insights can be reflected in hashtags like #MyShivaJourney or #LakshmiBlessings. These custom hashtags not only give your posts a distinctive look, but they also inspire other people to use the same tag in their own tales. This may result in a more lively and participatory community where people can bond over similar devotions and experiences.

Taking Part in Community Activities

Another great method to interact with the larger Instagram community is by using hashtags. Users that are interested in similar topics and devotions can find postings from other people by searching through hashtags like #HinduGods or #SpiritualIndia. By reacting to these posts with likes, comments, and shares, you can create a community of like-minded people and strengthen your spiritual ties. The devotees' sense of camaraderie and belonging is strengthened by this engagement.

Sensitivity and Respect

It's important to treat Hindu gods with respect and compassion while utilizing hashtags associated with them. Hinduism is a profoundly spiritual and cultural religion, hence it is important to exercise caution while depicting its gods. Make sure the material linked to these hashtags respects and upholds Hinduism's customs and principles. To preserve the sacredness of religious symbols and teachings, stereotypes and misrepresentations must be avoided.

In summary

Using Instagram hashtags associated with Hindu gods is a potent method to honor and spread devotion. Users can join the thriving web of Hindu spiritual expression on social media and make real connections by interacting with the community, using creative and well-liked hashtags, and acting with respect. Hashtags continue to be an important instrument for bridging the gap between modernity and tradition as the digital landscape changes, enabling the divine presence of Hindu gods to shine brightly in the virtual world.

[gtenvs3000w24]

08: Amazing things in nature - my favourite animal!

Hi everyone! Since this week’s prompt is to talk about the most amazing thing we know in nature, I thought I’d talk about my favourite animal, the spotted hyena! Although you can’t see these animals in Canada unless you go to a zoo, they’re super cool to learn about!

Source: Joel Sartore, https://www.joelsartore.com/search/hyena/

Spotted hyenas, with their unique appearance and intriguing behaviours, stand out as some of Africa's most interesting creatures. From their distinctive laughs to their complex social structures, these animals never fail to spark curiosity. Did you know that despite their appearance, they're actually more related to cats than they are to dogs?

Their robust build with distinctive spots gives them an unmistakable presence. But what truly sets them apart is their extremely complex and unique social dynamics. In the world of spotted hyenas, it's the females who reign supreme. These matriarchs, larger and more dominant than their male counterparts, lead their clans with a ton of strength. 

As for their vocalizations, the noises hyenas make are fascinating due to their versatility and complexity, ranging from spine-chilling laughs to a wide array of grunts, whoops, and growls. These vocalizations play a crucial role in communication within their clans, conveying information about social status and territory. Their vocalizations even convey their identities to eachother as each hyena has its own distinct “whooping” sound, just like how each of us have our own distinct fingerprints!

But it's not just their looks and noises that make spotted hyenas fascinating, it's their smarts too. These creatures are surprisingly amazing hunters. Working together, they employ tactics that enable them to take down prey much larger than themselves, largely due to the fact that their jaws are 10x stronger than a pitbull’s! And when it comes to meals, they eat pretty much everything since they have special enzymes in their stomach that can fully digest the stongest of materials like bone and venom. From insects to venomous snakes, spotted hyenas will have a go at anything, contributing to the delicate balance of their ecosystems as both predators and scavengers. 

Despite their remarkable qualities, spotted hyenas don’t have the best reputation, and are made the villains in many stories. This is probably due to their eerie vocalizations, their knack for scavenging, or even their uncanny ability to consume everything, bones included. Throughout history, they've been linked to death and the supernatural in African folklore, adding an air of mystery to their already mysterious presence. And then there's the competition with humans for resources, a rivalry that has often led to misunderstandings and conflicts. 

Despite this, efforts are underway to set the record straight and give spotted hyenas the credit they deserve. Scientists are delving into their behaviour, ecology, and importance in ecosystems, shedding light on their true nature and advocating for their conservation. These animals are not just symbols of fear, they're integral parts of Africa's rich tapestry of life. 

Overall, spotted hyenas are not just predators of the night, they're the charismatic characters of the African plains, adding complexity to the ecosystems they’re part of. With their playful antics and fierce determination, they've earned their place as one of Africa's most iconic animals!

Law, J. (2004). Crocuta crocuta Spotted Hyena. Animal Diversity Web. Retrieved March 11, 2024, from https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Crocuta_crocuta/

[madame-fear]

hi!! hope you're having a good day/night/etc :)) i just realized that you write for gotham *and* nolanverse jonathan crane,, you're doing god's work. anyways i digress!! if i may, i'd like to request nolanverse jonathan crane having feelings for fem reader, who doesn't know he's scarecrow. he stages an attack as scarecrow (mask on and everythin), only to realize reader is in the crowd he just attacked, and saves her. idk if he reveals his identity or not, that's up to u!! thanks :) u rock!!

A/N: Ahhhhh thank youuu!!!😭😭 Reading sweet messages like these and knowing you enjoy my work makes me so incredibly happy!! You all give me motivation to keep writing and publishing my works :') ♥️ Sorry this took literal AGES to publish! ;_;

I loved this plot! 💗 So here it goes!! 😍 Enjoy your reading, dearest anon 🥰 (p.s: as always, i don't really proofread my work 🥲 so if there's any spelling or grammar mistakes, apologies! Aaand also...sorry if i did it a bit more disturbing than you perhaps expected! But hope you enjoy it anywaysss!!)

Warnings?: Cursing & swearing,reader nearly gets killed by a lunatic, violence, murder, blood, and even more killing.

─────────────────────

Fear.

Fear was all that could only be heard tonight. The "normal" – or whatever normal was – day had been disrupted by one of your typical lunatics that always attacked Gotham; it was usual, though. Gotham, by one or another, was always corrupt, and it was never free from chaos and mayhem. Tonight, it wasn't any more different. The Scarecrow attacked once again. You knew, he was obsessed with the idea of fear and terror – and what he did to place his little seed of havoc in the dark city, was to constantly leak something that was known by the name of the "fear toxin".

He had been much more aggressive tonight than he usually was. Unlike the other times he attacked the city, tonight, he had presented himself to the whole world. Dark suit, with a brown, worn-out burlap bag. Through the burlap bag, you could even see a small fragment of his eyes, and they were an icy coloured blue. Oddly enough, you felt as if you somehow recognised those eyes. There was no easy way to explain it, but deep inside you, you felt familiar with the colour, and the way his eyes scanned the whole group of people. Unluckily, you were among the crowd he presented himself to, staring at the whole scene. He started by babbling about his 'marvellous' brand new toxin, with stronger effects than the last one, and that you were all his rat labs. Being exhausted after leaving your work shift, all you could do was tiredly sigh and think to yourself, 'Not this shit again.'

“Enough of me. Let's get started with our fear show, shall we?” 

Bringing back yourself to earth with the sound of his chilling voice, you had distracted yourself by trying to comprehend why you felt familiar to those pair of blue eyes – and even his voice, as well. In a sudden twist, his henchmen released the newly modified fear toxin to the public, the whole streets rapidly getting filled with intoxicating, greenish smoke. Quickly turning around to see back where Scarecrow was, he wasn't there anymore. He was long gone from the mayhem of screaming people. Noticing how quickly it was spreading, and how more and more people began screaming, running away, or even worse, killing others, you placed your jacket around your mouth and nose and began running as far away as you could to prevent the fear toxin getting to you. Unkowingly, the Scarecrow had been as sneaky as a cat, and had gotten inside an abandoned building, floors full of shattered glass with some spider webs casually hanging from the corners of the room. He was standing there, in front of a half-shattered big window that had a nice view to the city, watching the whole scene, and maliciously smiling to himself with satisfaction from how well his experiment had turned out to be.

His eyes guided themselves to your presence, running away from all the chaos. You were one of the nurses who worked in Arkham – it was weird for him the way he felt towards you. He had an exclusive soft spot for you, being the sweetest, and most understanding nurses he ever met. You were practically the only one whom he ever gave lots of attention to, you were the only one who was able to break his cold and calculating façade. He always felt a strong urge of protection when it came to you, as if you were fragile like glass. His eyes widened in realisation that you were among the crowd he had just attacked, and he couldn't just leave you to wander around there and see what would happen to you; he had to protect you from all of this! He hoped, it wasn't too late. Leaving his henchmen to take care of the remaining chaos, he ran away from the building, trying to catch up and follow your steps.

Meanwhile, you ran far away as the smoke behind you continously grew, nothing being able to stop it from going any further and taking the whole Gotham. It didn't matter where you ran to, you just wished to leave somewhere far away hoping to escape the poisonous fear gas. All the sudden adrenaline rush had made you feel tired, making your stop in a lightless, dark alley. Far away, all screams and commotion of people being afraid could be heard from the distance. You preferred not to stay there, but you had to catch your breath whether you liked it or not. Placing a hand on one of the harsh walls of a building, you slightly arched your body, and took deep breaths. Before you could leave, you could hear some footsteps right behind of you, causing you to turn around.

“You fucking bitch! I will finally get to you!”

Your senses being disturbed with the sudden yelling and swearing, everything felt dizzy around you, your vision slightly getting blurried from the dizziness. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came from it except words constantly stumbling upon each other. “You've been terrorising me for years, but not now, bitch. I hope you burn in Hell like the horrid creature you are.” Obviously to you, you noticed it must've been someone who inhaled the fear gas and was hallucinating with someone or something that's been haunting him for a while.

The fear-gassed person took out of his pocket a knife, as he slowly walked towards you. “Please, I don't have anything to do with anything! I don't even know who the hell you are!” You cried for merciness as you slowly walked backwards, finally stumbling upon some trash bins and throwing them to the floor – provoking a loud, metallic sound that echoed through the dark alley. Fear began getting the best of you, your body was unstoppably trembling, and tears began running down your cheek as you noticed how you were trapped between the random lunatic trying to kill you, and the dirty and now spilled trash bins. As the hallucinating man began lifting his pocket knife to violently stab you, your first self-defense instinct was to put yourself in a fetal position, and your arms, as shaky as they were, covering your face. Time passed, and felt like an eternity. The only thing you could do now, was harshly sob and cry with fear as desperation grew inside of you, getting ready to face yourself with a violent death.

With your eyes tightly shut, you could sense some movements, other than the lunatic that wanted to kill you. As well, you could hear some light footsteps.

“And who the hell are you–” The man spoke. His sentence was interrupted by his own loud screaming – which it was even more morbidly disturbing than the previous situation. What accompanied his screams of fear, was a gassing sound, which provoked you now practically hug yourself with your arms in protection. Then, you could hear as if this other unknown person had taken a knife, and slit the lunatic's throat, causing the screaming to stop, and the following sound was a choking-like type of sound and the one of dripping blood. This person who was previously trying to kill you fell to the floor right in front of you, and the blood who dripped from his throat and body began staining the floor, even, staining your legs and a part of your clothing. The morbid situation caused you to even cry more with fear and confusion, it made you feel numb, in a way.

“I'm not going to hurt you, (Y/N).” The man who saved you spoke. Your tearing slightly stopped as this familiar voice had just mentioned your name. You slowly began removing your arms in front of your face, your soaked eyes lowly opening. As you opened your eyes, you were presented with a tall figure who wore a dark suit, and a Scarecrow mask. Your saviour was The Scarecrow himself, the one who provoked Gotham to be immersed in fear! But, how did he know about you, and your name? And why did he save you? So many questions soon began filling your mind. Noticing you couldn't speak – and you were practically a crying mess – he very slowly began removing the Scarecrow mask, only to reveal Dr Jonathan Crane, one of your colleagues at Arkham Asylum. The pieces finally clicked together, you understood why the way he spoke, his eyes, the way he stared at his victims...you did know who he was, after all. You were the closest of friends in the group of Arkham workers, he seemed like a cold person all the time, but when you got to meet him, and he liked you, he was rather nice and a very interesting man. Which, of course, it lead to you having an unwanted and guilty crush on him. Unbeknownst to you, he had a crush on you as well.

Staring with disbelief deep into his icy blue eyes – who were fit with his now messy dark hair – you spoke, “So, you are The Scarecrow.” Your voice was low, and the tears previously running through your face had dried up. He nodded, ironically, afraid that you might reject him or even worse, let the GCPD know about this and get him kicked right into Arkham. Oddly enough, you didn't cry, or scream, or ran away from him, but rather – threw yourself to him and embraced him into a tight, and warm hug. “Thank you, then, Scarecrow. I was so afraid of meeting Death tonight.” You quietly and lovingly whispered. He was THE Scarecrow, but did it matter to you? Not anymore. He became your saviour, fear gassing right into your almost-killer eyes and violently murdering him just to keep you safe and protected. Jonathan's eyes widened in surprise, but he returned back the embrace, earning a light blush from him. “You're cold.” He answered back, gently pulling apart from the hug and staring right into your face with admiration as he tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear, which were covering your crying face.

“Please, if I may, allow me to take you home. You've had enough stress for today.” He wiped with his thumb a last tear falling down your face, as you weakly nodded. All the stress and adrenaline were taking it's toll on your mind and body, and all you needed was to forget about the moment and go to sleep. He took of the jacket of his suit, and carefully placed it around your shoulders, covering your trembling and cold body. He lifted himself from the floor, and offered you his hand so you could also get up. You took it, and he immediatly dragged you to his side as he rubbed your arm up and down, in hopes of bringing your body some more warmth.

“I didn't want you to get through this, I'm sorry, my dear. If I had known you were in the crowd, I wouldn't have done it.” Jonathan quietly admitted, as he took the both of you out of the dark alley, and walked you towards your home – already knowing the address since he had been there a few times.

“You shouldn't apologise, it's alright.” You said, not looking at him in the eyes out of nervousness of being this close with him. After a few moments of awkward silence, you spoke once again. “You know, even if I was a bit afraid when you showed up amongst the crowd before spilling the fear toxin all over Gotham, I quite enjoyed your speech.” You awkwardly said, as the shyness naturally bought some warmth over your cold body. “It made me realise, I might be into bad boys, even if the bad boy I like is The Scarecrow himself.”

And with that being said, you earned a smile from Jonathan, and he lovingly placed a kiss on top of your head as he kept walking you towards your home. You were usually very awkwardly shy around him, but, you had to admit it – he looked pretty hot as a fearsome villain, provoking terror in every single Gothamite. It was definitely something you could get used to, now that you were proving Jonathan what you really thought about him.

[irrfahrer]

Ziv will explain what In-Universe Plant Your Muse reminds her of!  Using Wookieepedia as a source ! FEAT @kyberllcore !

The Tynnan smelled Cal before he knocked on the door of her hut,so before he could even knock the door shifted open and the Tynnan stood before him, a basket leaned on her hip and the other already reaching for the younger mans hand: “Ah, bad day?” She sniffed in the air, searching for adrenaline in the others sweat or any other hint of why Cal had seeked her out only for a frown to draw a line as deep as a scar between her furred eyebrows: “Oh, that kriffing bad day? Well than,-”

Taking her littl brothers hand into her much smaller paw- it was cold and she could feel him twitch away from touching her fur just for a second before relaxing and curling his fingers around her short, webbed ones. Ziv ignored for now that second of flinching back, but her ears turned to the side towards Cal like a humanoid would keep a watchful side-eye on someone else.“-you are kriffing lucky, I am on my way to collect herbs and you are now going to come along, so here, paw into mine and now move your kriffing tailless ass, yes, just like that, good pup.” still holding his hand the Tynnan lead him away from the little hut she had rented and over the starharbours streets- it was so early in the morning that the mist from the near sea was laying still like a blanket over the buildings. The starharbour still slept with the only noises only the distant waves of the sea rustling through the salty air and distant engine-noises from the starhangar whichs shape had drowned at the other side of the settlement in the thick mist.

She lead him away from the streets and past the round shapes of the last huts of the starharbour into the damp dunes with only lonely standing, pale trees that occaisonally build isles of green on the cold beach. “Its alright, you know.” , Ziv said eventually as she lead Cal through the dunes, stopping occiasonally to cut certaine hard grasses or little pale branches from small meager trees that looked like bones against the greyblue of the distant sea by the horizont. Ziv had served long nough in military-sickbays to know how the different ways of working with quiet patients and qhile patiently waiting and only be there was one tactic, for now she wanted to make him comfortable by filling the silence: “You do not need to talk to me, Force knows, I am definitive talking enough for both of us. So what-kriffing-ever, just keep on beeing quiet, I am not bothering about words and your scent is enough to know that there is something wrong, even if I am also sometimes kriffing bohthered by that permannt TMI stuff going past your deodorant. Which is probably just me saying that you should invest in a stronger deodorant, but what-kriffing- ever, who needs to listen to me anyway. If your guy is into that, why kriffing not.” By the time the light of the morning changed from white into a lazy, cold pink Zivs basket as full of grass, roots and branches and she lead Cal to a small patch of green that circled one of the trees like a court would circle a king. Out of the pale sand short green stems with small, pale green and closed flowers grew that trembled in a not feelable breeze when Ziv sat down and pulled the younger man gently down to her: “We will sit down here. Have you seen those flowers before?”

Reacting to Cal and Ziv sitting down in the cool, damp sand the flowers twitched and turned just so mildly, almost curiously. The Tynnan sat down her basket in the sand and decided instead of taking another sniff from Cal to breath in the wet, salty air that scratched all the way up her nostrils: “They are called Green Daisys, for obvious reasons because they are kriffing green as you see, not everyone is as creative as me, you know. The thing about Green daisys is, that they have kriffing special follicles on their stems that are as highly sensitive as you with your little psychometric paws are. They react to the presence of other lifeforms, in fact actually their kriffing breathing and heartbeat. Its actually not as romantic as it sounds like, other lfieforms mean that the can carry around the flowers pollen to other flowers and make them spread as far as possible. Kriffing literally in this case since Green Daisys come originally from Lothal and we are obviously not on Lothal, so you see how it works since this little Kriffers had probably thrown their pollen on a spacer and they had brought them here to this place in a very kriffing unromantic manner. They are still kriffing pretty.” It was now that Ziv let go of Cals hand and leaned back, leaning on her elbows in the small pond of green daisys:

“And thats why we will sit here  and be quiet and wait till they bloom. We are going to sit here for a while, so make yourself comfortable, cub.”

[lighthousegraphics]

What is Web Design and Why It’s Important for Your Business

In today’s digital world, having a strong online presence is essential for any business. Web design plays a key role in shaping that presence. But what exactly is web design? Web design refers to the process of creating and organizing the visual elements and user interface (UI) of a website. It’s not just about making a site look attractive; it also involves functionality, user experience (UX), and responsive design across devices.

Core Elements of Web Design

Web design is a multidisciplinary field that blends creativity with technical know-how. Here are some of its critical components:

Layout: This is the foundation of web design. It refers to the arrangement of text, images, and buttons on each webpage. A good layout makes it easy for users to navigate the site and find the information they’re looking for.

Color Scheme: The choice of colors plays a major role in the overall feel of the website. Different colors evoke different emotions, and it’s important to choose a color palette that resonates with your target audience while aligning with your brand.

Typography: The fonts used on a website are part of its personality. Typography not only improves readability but also helps convey the mood and tone of the website. A good mix of fonts should enhance, not overwhelm, the content.

Graphics and Visuals: This includes images, icons, and videos. These visual elements should be optimized for quick loading and scaled for different screen sizes to ensure a smooth experience across devices.

Navigation: Effective navigation makes it easy for users to explore the website without confusion. This includes clear menus, buttons, and links that guide users through the content in a logical flow.

Responsive Design: A critical aspect of modern web design, responsive design ensures that a website looks and works well on all devices, from desktops to smartphones. With an increasing number of users browsing on mobile, a responsive design is a must.

Why Web Design Matters

Web design is not just about aesthetics; it’s a strategic tool that directly impacts your business success. A well-designed website offers the following benefits:

First Impressions Count: Your website is often the first point of contact between your business and potential customers. An outdated or poorly designed site can turn visitors away, while a professional, modern design builds credibility and trust.

Improved User Experience (UX): Web design isn't just about how a site looks—it’s about how it functions. A user-friendly site encourages visitors to stay longer, interact with your content, and eventually convert into customers. Slow-loading pages or confusing layouts, on the other hand, can frustrate users and lead them to leave your site.

Search Engine Optimization (SEO): Good web design goes hand in hand with SEO. Properly structured content, fast-loading pages, and mobile-friendly designs are all factors that contribute to a higher search engine ranking, making it easier for potential customers to find your website.

Brand Consistency: A well-designed website reflects your brand’s identity. Consistent use of logos, colors, and typography across your website strengthens brand recognition and builds a stronger connection with your audience.

Working with a Professional Web Design Company

Given the complexity of web design, it’s often best to work with professionals who understand the nuances of both design and functionality. At LightHouse Graphics, we offer full-scale web design services tailored to your business needs. From creating visually appealing layouts to optimizing for SEO and user experience, our goal is to build a website that helps your business thrive in the digital space. Contact us to know more about web development services.

[visual-sculptors]

The Role of Color Models in Business Card Design

1.What does F mean on a business card?

  The letter "F" on a business card is a powerful symbol that signifies the designation of "Founder." This abbreviation is commonly used by entrepreneurs and business leaders to explicitly communicate their role in the inception and establishment of a company or organization. By incorporating "F" into their business card, individuals not only highlight their pivotal contributions to the enterprise but also project an image of authority and leadership within their respective industries. This designation serves as a badge of honor, reflecting the hard work, vision, and determination required to launch and sustain a successful business venture. Furthermore, the inclusion of "F" on a business card plays a strategic role in the realm of networking and professional relationships. It informs clients, partners, and colleagues of the cardholder's entrepreneurial background, which can significantly enhance their credibility and foster trust. In a competitive business landscape, where establishing rapport and building connections are essential, the designation of "Founder" can serve as an icebreaker, opening doors to new opportunities and collaborations. As such, it is imperative for entrepreneurs to thoughtfully consider the presentation of their title on business cards, as it not only reflects their personal brand but also influences the perceptions and interactions they have with others in the professional sphere.

2. What does "t" stand for on a business card?

 The letter "t" on a business card is an important designation that stands for "telephone," representing the contact number of the individual or organization. This simple yet significant notation plays a crucial role in facilitating effective communication. In a professional landscape characterized by fast-paced interactions and the need for swift follow-ups, having a clearly marked telephone number allows clients, partners, and stakeholders to effortlessly reach the person whose information is presented. The convenience of this universal symbol not only enhances the card's usability but also underscores the importance of clarity in professional exchanges, ensuring that potential connections can be made without unnecessary barriers. In addition to merely indicating the presence of a telephone number, it is advisable to follow the "t" with the complete and correctly formatted contact number. This attention to detail is vital, as it ensures that the number can be easily dialed, regardless of the context in which the card is being used. By incorporating this small but significant element, professionals can enhance their networking efforts and foster stronger relationships within their industry. Ultimately, the inclusion of the "t" designation on a business card serves as a foundational aspect of professional communication, contributing to an effective exchange of information and the establishment of lasting connections in the business environment.

3. What does W stand for on a business card?

The letter "W" on a business card can embody a multitude of meanings, each tailored to reflect the unique aspects of an individual's profession or the overarching ethos of their business. For many professionals in the digital realm, "W" often signifies "Web," highlighting a specialization in digital services such as web development, online marketing, or e-commerce solutions. This representation not only underscores the emphasis on an online presence but also communicates a commitment to innovation and modern technology. In this context, the letter acts as a concise yet powerful branding tool, instantly conveying to potential clients or collaborators a clear sense of the services offered and areas of expertise.

Beyond its association with the digital landscape, "W" can also denote specific professional designations such as "Writer," "Consultant," or "Webmaster," thereby giving insight into an individual’s role within their organization. In some cases, it may represent a company name or brand, serving as an essential identifier in competitive markets. Furthermore, the letter can symbolize key values that resonate with the business's mission, such as "Wisdom," "Wealth," or "Wellness." Each interpretation of "W" is deeply contextual, necessitating an understanding of the industry and the professional landscape to fully appreciate its significance. By recognizing these nuanced meanings, individuals can leverage the power of a simple letter to enhance their professional identity and communicate their core competencies effectively.

4. What is O and C on a business card?

On a business card, the letters "O" and "C" commonly denote the individual's office and cell phone numbers, respectively. This intentional inclusion of contact details serves a vital purpose: it establishes clear and efficient lines of communication between the cardholder and potential clients, partners, or associates. The office number ("O") is typically designated for formal inquiries and scheduled meetings, providing a professional touch that signifies the cardholder's commitment to business etiquette. In contrast, the cell number ("C") offers a more immediate and personal means of contact, reflecting the cardholder's accessibility and readiness to engage in more spontaneous interactions. By clearly labeling these numbers, professionals not only enhance the functionality of their business cards but also convey a message of openness and approachability. The thoughtful design of a business card, particularly in labeling contact numbers, plays a crucial role in networking and relationship-building. Recipients of the card can select the most appropriate mode of communication based on their preferences and the nature of the inquiry. For instance, a client may choose to call the office number for a formal discussion while opting for the cell number for urgent matters or quick clarifications.

This strategic differentiation not only facilitates smoother interactions but also reflects the cardholder's understanding of contemporary communication dynamics. Ultimately, by providing clearly defined contact options, professionals foster a sense of trust and reliability, making it easier for others to reach out and establish meaningful connections.

5. What is CMYK business cards?

CMYK business cards represent a sophisticated approach to printing that employs the four-color process: Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, and Key (Black). This technique is renowned for its ability to reproduce a vast array of colors with remarkable precision and vibrancy, making it an exceptional choice for designs that require a strong visual impact. By layering these four ink colors in various percentages, printers can create intricate shades, gradients, and textures that elevate the overall aesthetic of the business card. This not only enhances the card's visual appeal but also plays a crucial role in conveying the brand’s personality and values. In a world where first impressions matter, a well-designed CMYK business card can serve as a powerful tool for establishing a memorable connection with potential clients and partners. Furthermore, CMYK business cards are particularly esteemed in professional environments due to their ability to support high-quality, customized designs tailored to specific branding needs. The precision of CMYK printing ensures that colors remain consistent across various marketing materials, contributing to a cohesive brand identity. This consistency is vital in competitive markets, where differentiation is key to standing out. By investing in CMYK business cards, companies not only enhance their visual communication but also reinforce their commitment to quality and professionalism. Ultimately, these cards serve as a reflection of the brand’s identity, leaving a lasting impression that can influence business relationships and opportunities.

Visit: VS Website See: VS Portfolio

[bhaichara000]

Best Digital Marketing Agency in Laxmi Nagar

Best Digital Marketing Agency in Laxmi Nagar: Modulation Digital

In today’s fast-paced digital era, businesses must maintain a strong online presence to stand out in an increasingly competitive market. Especially in a busy locality like Laxmi Nagar, where businesses constantly compete for consumer attention, a robust digital marketing strategy is essential. Modulation Digital, recognized as the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, is here to help. With 4 years of experience, we have been providing innovative digital marketing solutions to businesses, both local and global, helping them achieve remarkable growth.

As the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, our mission is to deliver measurable and effective marketing solutions that generate leads, increase visibility, and boost revenue. Our customer-first approach ensures that we cater to businesses of all sizes, whether small local enterprises or large established companies. We tailor our digital marketing strategies to your specific business needs, ensuring long-term success.

Why Choose the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Laxmi Nagar?

Choosing the right digital marketing partner is crucial to achieving your business goals. As the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, Modulation Digital stands out with its unique blend of expertise, experience, and customer-focused service that guarantees success.

Expertise and Local Knowledge

At Modulation Digital, we possess an in-depth understanding of the local market, making us the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar. We know what strategies work best for businesses in this region and have successfully helped many companies grow their online presence. Our experienced team excels in all aspects of digital marketing, from SEO to social media marketing, ensuring your brand receives the attention it deserves.

Customized Strategies for Maximum Impact

What makes us the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar is our commitment to offering personalized solutions. We understand that every business is different, and we craft tailored strategies to suit your unique goals. Whether you need to improve your website’s visibility on Google or execute a targeted social media campaign, Modulation Digital is the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar to help you succeed.

Affordable Solutions with Real Results

Working with the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar doesn’t mean breaking the bank. Modulation Digital offers affordable packages tailored to suit businesses of all sizes and budgets. We focus on delivering real, measurable results, from search engine optimization to pay-per-click advertising, ensuring that your investment leads to tangible success.

Services Offered by the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Laxmi Nagar

As the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, Modulation Digital provides a wide range of services designed to improve your online presence, engage your target audience, and generate more leads. Let’s explore the core services we offer:

SEO (Search Engine Optimization): Our SEO strategies focus on keyword optimization, site speed improvement, and enhancing user experience to boost your website's rankings on search engines.

SMO (Social Media Optimization): We help businesses create compelling content and strategies for social media platforms to engage audiences and build a stronger online presence.

PPC (Pay-Per-Click Advertising): Our PPC campaigns are designed to drive immediate traffic and conversions, ensuring you reach your target audience quickly and effectively.

Content Marketing: We create high-quality content that resonates with your audience, building trust and enhancing your brand’s storytelling capabilities.

Web Design & Development: We develop user-friendly, mobile-responsive websites that not only look stunning but also drive results.

Proven Results as the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Laxmi Nagar

Modulation Digital, as the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, has a proven track record of delivering exceptional results for businesses across various industries. Whether through SEO, PPC, or social media marketing, our strategies have consistently helped clients grow their online visibility and revenue.

Commitment to Innovation and Staying Ahead

The digital marketing landscape is always evolving, and Modulation Digital is committed to staying ahead of the competition. As the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, we use cutting-edge tools and technologies to track, measure, and optimize campaigns, ensuring that your business remains relevant and competitive.

Conclusion

Choosing the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar is an important decision for your business's success. Modulation Digital stands out by offering tailored, results-driven marketing solutions that help businesses grow and succeed. With our expertise, local knowledge, and focus on innovation, we are the top choice for businesses looking to enhance their online presence.

Are you ready to take your business to the next level? Contact Modulation Digital, the best digital marketing agency in Laxmi Nagar, and let us help you achieve your marketing goals. Whether you need SEO, social media marketing, PPC, or web design, we are here to deliver the results that matter. Reach out to us today for a consultation, and let’s start building your success story together.