#chapter 6 tree

[stormbow]

having fun with datv, but something that bothers me because i'm a picky bitch is that i absolutely HATE that i can be locked out of certain skill builds because of story beats/choices. i understand consequences relating to story, not being able to romance certain characters if you fuck them over, bad endings (even though it feels very masseffecty but alas)- things relating to story in general. but having to change your whole companion build because of a story choice feels... a bit lame.

[boyenthusiast]

cause i googled it and apparently i was an insanely advanced reader as a kid but i never really knew ? and if you don't know, then just take a guess im v curious

[neondiamond]

.

[sheliesshattered]

I miiiiight have just finished the next chapter in my long-neglected multi-part fic

[theetwinkleboy]

everybody stop what you're doing pez dispenser debris has updated

[rosemarydaycare]

☀️FNAF DCA x Y/N Fic Recs🌑

All of them are DCA x Reader[romantic/queerplatonic]. NSFW fics at the bottom (I like those that have plot and/or have fluff <3)

Inspired by: Pillowspaces' DCA Fic Recs.

I've read them all and I love them all sO MUCH

Click on the author's name to view more artwork/content of the fic's au!

If you see your fic, you can ask for it to be removed.

PLEASE check each fics tags before reading them.

Last updated: 13/Dec/2024 [Total: 26 fics]

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☀️Solar Lunacy by BamSara (AO3 account required)

Samebody!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @bamsara]

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

| Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

🌑Love, Death and Rollerskates by Spadillelicious

Rollerskater!Sun, Janitor!Moon, Metalstar!Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @spadillelicious]

After moving to Crescent City in the 80s, you pick up a job at the local roller rink Party Planet. Ironic, considering roller skating is definitely not one of your talents.

On the bright side, you get to work with the friendly Sun. On the other hand, you also have to interact with the gruff janitor and security guard Moon on a daily basis.

But when staying after hours one day, despite being strictly instructed not to, you find out a terrible secret that changes everything you knew about Sun, Moon and Crescent City forever.

| Words: 98,091 | Chapters: 18/?

☀️Celestial Sundown by clutterspace

God!Sun, God!Moon, God!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @pillowspace]

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was. The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

| Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

🌑In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: @naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, @deliasmoothie]

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

| Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

☀️Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

This is a type of sequel to In Deep Dreams Between the Waves.

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

| Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

🌑Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Detective!Sun, Detective!Moon, MafiaBoss!Eclipse x Vigilante!Reader

~~ [AU: @sunnys-aesthetic, naffeclipse. YN,Sun&Moon Designs: sunnys-aesthetic. Eclipse Design: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

| Words: 174,134 | Chapters: 15/15

☀️Pisces Caelestis by S_V

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @sortvaniliekrans]

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

| Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

🌑Wintersweet Spirit by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Winterspirit!Sun x Human!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, @berrythefish]

Your visit to a beautiful, tucked-away mountain town leaves you curious about the beliefs of a mythical beast who watches over the peaks and snowy ranges. An ill-advised trek toward the summit sends you tumbling directly into the mythical beast's domain as you must accept his guiding hand to endure the harsh mountaintop.

He is power and brightness, and the only one who can carry you through the snow.

| Words: 34,212 | Chapters: 3/3

☀️Celestial Omens by BamSara

Siren!Sun, Siren!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: bamsara]

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

| Words: 36,318 | Chapters: 3/?

🌑Sources of Light by JackOfAllRabbits (AO3 account required)

Alien!Sun x Alien!Moon x Human!Y/N x Alien!Eclipse

~~ [AU & Designs: @maudiemoods]

Space has always seemed so far away until now...

Your life was mundane and simple; work, eat, and sleep. Taking small joys as they come to you and trying not to worry. Then, a summer night like any other takes a dramatic turn when you encounter a pair of aliens who had not anticipated meeting a human. In a panic you find yourself swept away onto their ship and now must navigate a universe of unknowns, starting with your strange abductors and the secrets surrounding them.

| Words: 120,077 | Chapters: 15/15

☀️Signs of Life by JackOfAllRabbits (AO3 account required)

Alien!Eclipse x Scientist!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: maudiemoods, @jackofallrabbits]

A new scientist has been hired to the Faz Co. research facility in the heart of the desert where any number of secrets can be kept. You are full of curiosity and are especially interested in a particularly fascinating subject that Faz Co. is holding.

A certain dangerous alien. Will you get too close for comfort? Is it worth the risk?

This fic is something of a sequel fic to Sources of Light and will revolve around Eclipse. This fic can stand on its own but there might be mention of past events.

| Words: 127,034 | Chapters: 13/?

🌑Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

CryptidinAnimatronic!Sun/Moon x CryptidHunter!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

You will face the monsters.

| Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

☀️What the Tide Keeps by Cipher_the_Sidhe

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x MerHandler!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @cipher-the-sidhe]

Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Mega Water World, the premier aquarium in the world! Enjoy our state-of-the-art rides and attractions, our dazzling animal performances, and prepare to be amazed by the stars of our show: live mers!

You are a mer handler at the illustrious Mega Water World. Or, you were, until something happens to the mer in your care and FazCo buries it all under red tape. Driven by grief and guilt, you team up with a fellow handler to uncover and bring to light the company’s unethical practices surrounding the mysterious mers they keep on display.

But what do you do when your search for the truth brings you face to face with two abandoned mers wasting away in the ruins of one of FazCo's old holding facilities? The mers are hurt and scared, but you are determined to make up for your past failure. You are going to take care of them, even if it kills you. And with two traumatized mers to contend with, it just might.

| Words: 36,072 | Chapters: 3/?

🌑Charm Brought It Back by NaffEclipse

Witch!Sun, Witch!Moon, Witch!Eclipse x Human!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse, jackofallrabbits. Designs: naffeclipse, jackofallrabbits, deliasmoothie]

The boys star as the witchy brothers who return once a fated reader lights the starry candle. They simply must show their gratitude!

| Words: 26,680 | Chapters: 5/5

☀️Of Fools in Gilded Masks by CloudyVoid, CrazedAuthor (AO3 account required)

RoyalJester/Prince!Sun, RoyalJester/Prince!Moon x Princess!Y/N

~~ [AU: @head-in-the-icloud, @crazedauthor. Designs: head-in-the-icloud]

When you're invited to the Kingdom of Pleiades to try and woo Prince Sun or Prince Moon's hands in marriage along with many other suitors, you are less than enthused.

During your stay however, you get acquainted with their court jesters Dawn and Dusk; two performers with such wild personalities much different to that of royalty. Dawn with their bubbly personality and quick witted jokes, Dusk with their small pranks and sleepy like attitude. You can't help but want to spend time with them instead of the princes you now avoid.

If only you knew that Dawn and Dusk, Prince Sun and Prince Moon, were one in the same.

| Words: 20,692 | Chapters: 2/?

🌑Apex Polarity by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

SirenOrca!Eclipse x Photographer!Y/N

~~ [AU: naffeclipse. Designs: naffeclipse, deliasmoothie]

In the Arctic, all is beautiful and cold and lethal. You tread over ice and underneath, a dark, powerful siren stalks you. Though you try to resist, you succumb to the lure of the mer and his decision to have you.

How do you survive an apex predator?

| Words: 125,998 | Chapters: 12/12

☀️Long Road Ahead by bubbiesaur

Samebody!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @bubbiethesaur]

You didn't want a PleasureBot. You didn't need a PleasureBot. But here you were staring at a box from PleasureWorks (subsidiary of Fazbear Entertainment) and cursing your aunt. Just because you were alone doesn't mean you were unhappy. At least that's what you told yourself.

But when you open the package, you get a lot more than you bargained for. There's a long road ahead for the three of you...as long as you survive the first night.

| Words: 206,115 | Chapters: 18/?

🌑(Don't) Fear the Reaper by muzzle

CampCounselor!Sun, CampCounselor!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU & Designs: @muzzlemouths]

Ten years after the tragedy that befell Camp Cosmo, something stirs in the woods, growing restless. A simple phone call embroils you in the fate of six guilty counselors, haunted by their past and a vengeful shadow that won't soon let them forget.

Your own innocence is called into question when friends become enemies, placing a target on your back, and you're met with a choice: play along, or become the next victim.

| Words: 61,870 | Chapters: 7/10

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☀️Product Testing by Bearitt

Samebody!Sun/Moon x Staff!Reader

You’re not exactly sure why you were chosen for this specific task they gave you, other than that you basically signed your life away in the fine print of your work contract and can’t really refuse what they ask of you but nonetheless it still makes you wonder. 

| Words: 2,152 | Chapters: 1/1

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🔞The Pizzaplex Nighttime Mechanic by crickyluv

Same body!Sun/Moon, Glitch!Eclipse x Mechanic!Reader

~~ [AU: @crickyluv. Sun Design: crickyluv. Eclipse,Moon Design: crickyluv, deliasmoothie]

You finally got the job as the nighttime mechanic at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! Unfortunately, you get a double shift. At least you get to spend time fixing the animatronic you knew best: Sun!

This is a slow burn that eventually turns into NSFW. There is a TON to get to before the spice comes.

| Words: 223,793 | Chapters: 49/?

🔞I Watched You Become a Stranger & How to Lure a Handler by IcedMetalTea (AO3 account required)

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x Handler!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @icedmetaltea]

You work at one of the few aquariums cleared to house merfolk as a handler for twin mers who live in a sort of petting pool targeted at kids, as they've proven to be harmless to humans through the years. You spend your days taking care of them and supervising their interactions with the public.

You arrive at the exhibit for your early morning shift and, as you prepare for the day's visitors, the automatic door to the room malfunctions and slams shut while you're inside. You find yourself trapped with no sources of food, and the two creatures who have a very big appetite.

| Words: 14,041 | Chapters: 2/2

🔞Demon support by Megafacts

Demon!Sun x Demon!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [AU: @megafactuals. Designs: megafactuals, deliasmoothie]

You decide to try and summon a demon to destroy the world as a big bang to end all of humanity. Then earn the lavish life you wanted when you went to hell.

Instead you get two small demons who say they can satisfy your very desire, except the desire you called them for.

Bull. Shit.

| Words: 10,801 | Chapters: 2/?

🔞Love for the endangered by Megafacts

Seahorse!Sun x Seahorse!Moon x Researcher!Y/N

~~ [AU: @megafactuals. Designs: megafactuals, deliasmoothie]

You worked as a researchers for endangered species at a sanctuary.

One day, two of the newly discovered seahorse merfolk species come into the sanctuary after being caught in a net left in the ocean. Instead of releasing them back to the wild, the upper ranks at the sanctuary decide to use them for a breeding program.

Over the next few months you must decide to help your new friends escape or force them to spend their first mating cycle trapped inside of the sanctuary.

| Words: 28,299 | Chapters: 2/2

🔞We Can Serve You Better, Than They Can by Bearitt

RoyalGuard!Sun x RoyalGuard!Moon x Princess!Y/N

~~ [AU & Designs: @flusteredfools]

It wasn’t your fault, none of it was but you were the one who was punished and both Sir Sun and Sir Moon hated that. It was the King’s affair with the Sorcerer that caused your unfortunate fate. He played with the wrong heart, made too many promises with no intent to keep them; and you, kind, sensitive, beautiful, youngest of seven royal children, last in line to the throne, originally the King’s favorite child, you took the punishment.

A curse of lust, only to be cured by someone who truly loves you for more than what lies skin deep filling you up entirely; true love, they scoff. Every day as the sun sets, your body lights with an inner fire, every touch you feel feels hundreds times more sensitive to you and you yearn and beg for someone to hold you, fill you and ease the flames you feel burning inside.

In the King’s attempt to keep his secret and your curse hidden, he built you your own annex; a few trusted servants, staff and just you, furthest away from everyone else until you were able to find your true love and lift the curse. 

| Words: 26,266 | Chapters: 5/5

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🔞Reeling You In by BrainrotObsessions

Mer!Sun, Mer!Moon x Handler!Y/N

As their handler, Sun and Moon relentlessly attempted to court you, often in ways that just came out needy, as cute as it was. As much as you loved them, you constantly had to hold back from returning those affections. But over time, it was slowly cracking away at your resolve.

A new tactic is what finally gets you to break.

| Words: 12,965 | Chapters: 2/2

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🔞Tempting the Stars by H_Grail

SamebodyAndroid!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Technician!Y/N

You’re a Repair Technician that lives at the Pizzaplex, nothing weird about that. The days are filled with the hustle of making sure that the characters are in tip-top shape, well all the characters except for the Daycare Attendant.

You’ve never seen them and they have their own tech, but what happens when suddenly that tech has to take an indefinite leave of absence and you are the one that is responsible for filling in the position?

| Words: 45,815 | Chapters: 7/7

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SMALL IMPORTANT EXTRA NOTE

If you have any fic you wish to recommend me, please do! Though that will not guarantee it entering this list. And do consider that, as the title says and as I stated at the start, the fics added to this list are soley X READER/YN thus the relationship between the reader and the DCA is romantic or queerplatonic to some degree or can be interpreted as so <3

[yeonmuse]

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little girl shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to her older sister. Now he’s starting to realize himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary ⛸️

ૢ CASTING ༉ ot7 Enhypen. THE GANG ot9 andteam, lesserafim chaewon, katseye manon. READERS FRIENDS boynextdoor woonhak, boynextdoor leehan, blackswan fatou, loona jinsoul, theboyz chanhee, txt yeonjun, pamalaaam as mari. HONORABLE MENTIONS theboyz sunwoo, soloist alexa.

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED❕ 🏷️ | SERIES PREVIEW

ღ GENRE smau & written parts, fluff|slight angst, acquaintance to lovers, non idol enhypen, university enha, crack tweets & texts. 3rd person reader pov

CHARACTER PROFILES › ENHA & FRIENDS | READER & FRIENDS | HONORABLE MENTIONS

1 › prince of the ice

2 › let’s go bears

3 › UOA vs DVU

4 › take this L

5 › aint no party like a yeonjun party

6 › fuck you sim jaeyun and nishimura riki

7 › park sunghoon

8 › jinsouls shayla

9 › I’m sorry

10 › you did what ??

11 › case of the stolen teammates

12 › three thousand dollars

13 › @/princeoftheice followed you !

14 › failed ransom

15 › the zamwhati?

16 › according to google 🤓☝️

17 › am i literally stupid ?

18 › should I flea the country ?

19 › im cooked

20 › soft hands

21 › swimmin with the fishes

22 › snowed in

23 › Fuck you mother nature

24 › sweatpea?

25 › skate night

26 › yn and sunghoon sitting in a tree

27 › place your bets

28 › im so screwed

29 › this isnt a kdrama

30 › happy soobin day

31 › nurse shes out again

32 › mr lonely and the girl with infinite homework

33 › you like krabby patties don’t you squidward

34 › wonder about you

35 › ice cream you scream we’re all screaming

36 › jealously jealousy

37 › the club is calling

38 › liquid courage

39 › dont fuck this up

40 › sweater weather

41 › bitchless activities

42 › ending: Merry Christmas

[norloth]

“He gathered the huge pine-cones from the branches of the tree. Then he set one alight with bright blue fire, and threw it whizzing down among the circle of the wolves.” - The Hobbit, Chapter 6, Out of Frying-Pan into Fire.

[blacktabbygames]

Slay the Princess Concept Art

We shared a bunch of concept art on Twitter today. Sharing it here, too, where you can find it all in one post. Post contains spoilers, so proceed with caution (or just play the game already if you haven't 😉)

Going to start with the first piece of concept art Abby drew for the game.

In the earliest stages of development, we toyed around with the concept of there being multiple "end game" forms of the Princess.

The initial outline, rather than being tied together by an overarching metanarrative, structured a full playthrough as a 5-6 chapter long, self-contained journey down a single route, determined by your decisions in chapter 1. Here's an alternative late-game form:

The idea of deviating end-game forms didn't lost for very long, though. As we explored the game's themes more deeply, it made the most sense for there to be a singular "true" form.

If your reality is shaped by subjectivity and perception, then the "truth" has to be what's left when that subjectivity is swept away. the Shifting Mound's final design feels like that initial truth for the Princess, though there's also another truth if you push back against her and press on into the final cabin.

We really liked this "void" design, and I played around with the idea of it being an intermediary to the final form. The "void" Princess would be what you saw upon encountering the final Princess without understanding your own truth, but once you had that understanding, you would see her as the Shifting Mound, as depicted in the game.

That gave way to the intermediary design of the SM being a sea of disembodied limbs, and we also took parts of both designs and incorporated them into the protagonist (particularly the wings.) You can see the eyes and feathers for this void form in the ending card of the original trailer below:

You can see extremely early concept art for the spectre (top), nightmare (top-right), stranger (left), beast (bottom) and ??? (right) as well!

The eyes became a motif in the Nightmare route (Paranoid's manifestation of the fear of being watched), but I also like to think of them as a part of The Long Quiet's truth. You are space and emptiness, but you're also that which observes those things, and it's your perceptions that give the Shifting Mound shape.

Anyways, on the note of the original original concepts for the game, the Princess was initially going to remain human for several loops before taking on more monstrous forms. Some concepts of that are below. Had to get Abby to tone down some of the more horrifically cartoonish designs because they creeped me out and I didn't want to romance them in a video game.

We had to hold our cards close to our chest in the non-metanarrative early drafts, which is part of why, even in the first demo, the cabin doesn't really change much in chapter 2. More room to subtly play with the concept of transformation over time.

There were a lot of reasons we moved in a different direction for the full release. The branching was unmanageably large to write, and the game felt like a slog to write.

Using an overarching narrative as a framing mechanism in the final version gave us a lot more freedom to explore wildly divergent ideas within routes while still driving the player towards the originally planned finale.

Anyways, now we've got some concept art for individual princesses. There's a lot more than this lying around somewhere, but it's all in sketchbooks, and we'll probably wait until we make an art book to show it off.

First is the tower, who really didn't change much at all. (She got a little thicker, I guess. All of the Princesses did)

Not a lot to say about her, other than the fact that we knew we wanted a set piece where she gets so big that the trees and cabin orbit around her.

The stranger went through many many redesigns over the course of development. Here, she was a "princess skin" filled with a hive of sentient bugs. The script wasn't working for me, though, so instead she became a peak behind the curtains without the necessary context to know her.

A lot of people ask how these earlier drafts of the Stranger route would have played out, and the answer is I can't tell you, because I couldn't figure out something worth writing.

The writing process for individual routes didn't really start with outlines or plot beats. Rather, the routes started from a theme and a relationship dynamic, and I organically found their outcomes by exploring actions within those themes, and then seeing if those passed Abby's editor brain.

Neither of us found actions we wanted to explore with those versions of the Stranger, at least actions that weren't a beat-by-beat retelling of chapter 1, which contained way too much variation to put on a single chapter 2 route.

If each princess examines a relationship formed by perception and first impressions, the Stranger examines one that's fundamentally unknowable. One where you've seen too much, too quickly.

An insect hive-mind pretending to be a person seemed like a good starting point, but it was too difficult to write any interactions that didn't immediately feel knowable, if still strange. So the final version of the Stranger was designed in such a way where her unknowability makes interacting with her on a human level fundamentally impossible, and you don't get to have a real conversation with her unless you satisfy extremely specific criteria.

Anyways next up is the razor's final form. We decided she needed more swords.

Hearts became an accidental motif very quickly in the development process, too. (The fact that it is only strikes to the heart that fell her in the demo was accidental, but it felt poetic so we extended it to the rest of the game.)

So on top of adding more swords, we made her heart visible. This is something we did with the fury as well, as a way of showing their emotional (and physical) vulnerability.

Here's an early version of the Adversary and what would eventually become the Eye of the Needle, back when she was still called the Fury. Originally her hair was going to be fire (as seen on the right), but it didn't feel right in its execution.

She's hit the gym since this concept art. Good for her :)

And we're going to end with the Beast, who at this point was called the Adversary. I think this was before the Witch was added? The Beast was originally designed to be a Questing Beast who lurked in the shadows, where you'd only see glimpses of her, and where each glimpse would make her appear to be a different animal. This was too difficult to execute, though we gave her a more chimera-like appearance in the final game.

This design was from when we still has the Voice of the Obsessed, and the route was going to be a more feral mirror of what eventually became the Adversary, but it felt too thematically similar while being less interesting, so we moved in the direction of making the Beast about consumption as a form of love.

Anyways, that's all we've got for you right now. Hope this was fun!

[godmadeaterribleerror]

No Love Lost Series Masterlist

Read on A03! - Listen to the Playlist!

Main Masterlist - Soldier Boy Masterlist

Rating/Warnings: 18+ for canon-typical violence, swearing, mental health issues, mentions of rape/non-con, and sexual content.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff.

Series Summary

Three years ago you were normal, the only demons you had to fight were your own, and you the most you knew of Vought and the Boys were what you saw on TV. But then you met Homelander at a stupid party, and woke up the next morning in a cell.

After almost two and a half years of you being Homelander's little project, Soldier Boy was woken up only go rouge and be put back under. Somewhere in there, you escaped. And before Queen Maeve went underground, she told William Butcher about the Anomaly, a powerful supe who recently escaped Vought captivity and may have an agenda against Homelander.

One month later, the Boys found you.

You spend the next five months helping them best you can, though your control over your powers is weak and your fear of Homelander makes you useless in combat. But you get an idea. A stupid, dangerous idea that turns you into Soldier Boy's keeper, giving him a second chance to take down Homelander, you hanging over his shoulder, a threat should he want to go nuclear again. It's exhausting and frustrating, and you might kill him and yourself as soon as this is over, but you said whatever it takes.

And this is what it takes.

Author's Note

This story is non-canon compliant, with the two main differences being;

1) Butcher doesn't have brain cancer, because I said so.

2) All of Gen V didn't take place, because I don't want to deal with the whole supe-plauge thing. Also that's too many characters to keep track of squad.

Because of this, the story will start in a similar setting as s4e5, but with different events leading up to it, and will deal with similar themes and have similar events to the rest of s4, but at an inconsistent rate. If you have any questions about other, smaller changes I have made, feel free to ask!

Navigation Key

❤️‍🔥 = Smut

🚩 = Additional Warnings

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Where Winning Looks Like Losing Chapter 2 - A New Kind of Tension Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress 🚩 Chapter 4 - You Might Be The Same As Me Chapter 5 - Popped, Cool, and Ready to Go Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense Chapter 7 - The Blinding Ultra-Violence 🚩 Chapter 8 - I Just Find My Way Back ❤️‍🔥🚩 Chapter 9 - Can't Cover It Up ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 10 - Lead Me To The Ark ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 11 - The Wolves or The Ocean Rocks Chapter 12 - While My Blood's Still Flowing Chapter 13 - The Terror of Knowing Chapter 14 - Choke on Sun Chapter 15 - I Found A Martyr ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 16 - Let It Flood ❤️‍🔥 🚩 Chapter 17 - Make My Chest Stir Chapter 18 - Something In The Static ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 19 - Don't Look Back 🚩 Chapter 20 - Forget to Fall Down Chapter 21 - Some Things You Just Can't Speak About ❤️‍🔥 🚩 Chapter 22 - I Stayed In The Darkness With You Chapter 23 - Wherever You're Going ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 24 - You'll Never Be Alone ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 25 - All I Know ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 26 - I’ve Loved Everything About You That Hurts ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 27 - Just A Shot Away 🚩 Chapter 28 - Something That I'm Supposed to Be ❤️‍🔥 Chapter 29 - All My Bets On You Chapter 30 - Every Demon Wants His Pound of Flesh 🚩 Chapter 31 - I'd Do It All Again ❤️‍🔥

More Than You Could Ever Know - A No Love Lost Christmas Special

Part 1 - The Boys start Secret Santa, Ben pretends to do his job. ❤️‍🔥 Part 2 - Ben and Ryan go shopping, and you all try to find a tree. Part 3 - You and Ben have a Christmas Eve date. Many gifts are opened.

Bonus Footage (Standalone Chapters)

Dying’s Up to Me - A Prologue. Takes place 6ish months before Chapter 1. 🚩 They're Never Gonna Find You A Home - Request! Everyone adjusts to your life with the Boys. Takes place 5ish months before Chapter 1. 🚩 Back to Here - Request! They get horny at the dining table, and Butcher takes it personally. Takes place in Chapter 14. It's So Simple - You make Ben do icebreakers. He's a little bitch about it. Takes place in Chapter 14. Just Your Time - You give Ben internet lessons. Takes place in Chapter 14. As Much As I Do - Request! Ben finds you dancing, is immediately very normal about it. Takes place after Chapter 14 and around Chapter 15. Calling Your Name - Ben's first birthday awake isn't great. Takes place in Chapter 19. ❤️‍🔥 I Skip My Pride - You share some music with Ben over text. Takes place in Chapter 22. The Only Place That I Call Home - It's team game night, and everyone is sick of you and Ben's shit. Takes place in Chapter 24. ❤️‍🔥 Can't Help Myself - Request! Ben has a breeding kink, and you're incredibly horny, so it works. Takes place in around Chapter 24 and Chapter 25. ❤️‍🔥 Anywhere Else Is Hollow - A halloween special episode! Takes place in Chapter 25. It Was Smiling Down - A Ryan pov Chapter. Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. A Call To Motion - Request! There's a lot of things you're good at. Sex with Ben is one of them. Takes places in Chapter 28.❤️‍🔥 I Want You Only - You and Ben go shopping. Takes place in Chapter 28 ❤️‍🔥 I’ll Hold Your Hand - Request! You get your period, and Ben has to do his job and take care of that. Takes place post series.

Found Footage (Post-Series Chapters)

Just Too Important - You and Ben head to Costco. Takes place about two months post-series. Dreams of Love - Request! You and Ben have to babysit. Takes place ten months post-series. Setting In A Honeymoon - You and Ben finally get a honeymoon. Takes place about a year post-series. The Best Thing - Request! You, Ben, and Ryan get a cat. You Can Feel It - Ben has a birthday. Takes place on May 19th, post-series.

Stuff By You Guys!!! (Art, Memes, and Anything more)

Early Chapters Moodboard by @deans-yn Ben and Sunshine Inspired Art by @castielsfoot

[mocharyc]

Invincible variants x reader Pt. 6✩ ‧ ₊ ˚

♡ A new variant appears?♡

✩ ‧ ₊ ˚ Broken Convergence‧ ₊ ˚

☆ WC: 12k+ [Part 6] ☆ TW: fluff ☆ Author's Note: Hi everyone. Sorry for the late update; I went to Knotts Berry Farm and got hella sick. People really need the decency to cover up when coughing (￣へ￣）Anyway, I wrote this chapter with a fever, lol, I hope y'all like it! ––––––––––––––

Omni had only a split second to react. His enhanced senses detected the threat before the sound reached his ears—a rush of air, the crack of wood splintering, and the unmistakable scent of rage. The muscles beneath his red and white suit tensed as years of combat training took over, his jawline hardening with determination.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD OMNI—!"

In one fluid motion, Omni slipped his mask back over his eyes, concealing the vulnerability he'd shown only to Y/N moments before. The black lenses obscured the conflict in his blue eyes as he covered her body with his own. His massive frame enveloped her completely, shielding her from the incoming assault. The mattress springs groaned in protest as he shifted his weight, his arms creating a protective cage around her smaller form.

Mohawk Mark burst through the doorway, the wooden frame exploding into splinters that scattered across the cabin floor like deadly confetti.

His blue and black suit was torn in places, smeared with dirt and blood—evidence of the destruction he'd been wreaking across the planet. His signature mohawk was disheveled, strands of dark hair falling across his forehead like jagged shadows. His eyes blazed with unrestrained fury, pupils constricted to pinpoints as he caught sight of Omni hovering protectively over Y/N.

Mohawk's lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing teeth clenched so tightly that a vein pulsed visibly at his temple. The purple-blue line throbbed beneath his skin in time with his racing heartbeat, a visual indicator of his barely contained rage.

"I KNEW IT!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, his face flushed dark with rage until it matched the crimson of his blood-splattered suit.

 "Sneaking off to have her all to yourself!"

He launched himself at Omni, his body becoming a blur of motion. His fist connected with Omni's forearm as the red-suited variant blocked the attack with mathematical precision. The impact sent shockwaves through the cabin, rattling the remaining windows and knocking dust from the ceiling beams. The sound was like a thunderclap contained within the small space, reverberating off the walls and assaulting Y/N's ears.

Despite Omni's protection, Y/N felt the vibration of the impact jolt through her body. Mohawk's knee drove into her abdomen as he collided with Omni, reopening the barely-healed wound in her torso. Her vision exploded with white-hot pain, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as fresh blood soaked through her bandages. The warmth of it against her skin was instant and alarming, a stark contrast to the chill that began to spread through her limbs.

Mohawk's momentum carried both him and Omni through the opposite wall, their bodies tearing through the aged wood like it was paper. Splinters and debris showered the forest floor as they tumbled outside, uprooting trees as they grappled, each impact reverberating through the ground like thunder.

Y/N curled into herself, clutching her reopened wound. Crimson seeped between her fingers, warm and sticky against her skin. The copper scent of her own blood filled her nostrils, making her stomach twist with nausea. Her breath came in short, pained gasps as she tried to focus through the haze of agony. Beads of cold sweat formed on her forehead as her face contorted with pain, her brows drawing together and lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.

"Damn it," she hissed through gritted teeth, her pupils dilated with shock. The wound from Prisoner's rusted pipe strike had never fully healed, and No-Mask's hurried medical work hadn't been enough to prevent infection.

As a man-made Viltrumite, she lacked the immunity to disease that true Viltrumites possessed. The infection had been festering beneath her skin, weakening her from within. She could feel it now—the unnatural heat radiating from her wound, the subtle but persistent throbbing that extended beyond the immediate injury.

The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. A section of the roof had already partially collapsed, sending dust and debris raining down onto the bed. Y/N's eyes darted around the deteriorating structure, fear flickering across her features as survival instincts finally kicked in.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk pounded his fist into the ground where Omni had been a millisecond before, the impact creating a crater six feet wide. The earth itself seemed to scream in protest, fracturing and buckling under the force of his rage.

"She's not yours!" Mohawk bellowed, throwing a punch that connected with Omni's jaw. The sound was like thunder, the shockwave rattling what remained of the cabin's windows. His eyes were wild, pupils constricted to pinpoints, lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed clenched teeth. A thin line of saliva stretched between his upper and lower lip as he shouted, his rage turning him feral. "None of us get to have her if all of us can't!"

Omni absorbed the blow, head snapping to the side before he recovered, his movements calculated and precise despite the fury of Mohawk's attack. Unlike his opponent, Omni's face remained a mask of calm, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, the only evidence that Mohawk's blow had landed. He wiped it away with mathematical precision, not a wasted movement in sight.

"You don't understand what's happening," Omni stated, his voice level despite the situation. He dodged another punch, the air whistling as Mohawk's fist passed inches from his face. His body moved with fluid grace, each dodge and counter-strike executed with perfect efficiency. "She needed protection—"

"Protection?!" Mohawk laughed, the sound hollow and manic as he grabbed a nearby tree, uprooting it with terrifying ease. Soil and roots dangled from the massive trunk as he hefted it like a bat. Muscles bulged beneath his torn suit, veins standing out in stark relief against his skin. His eyes glittered with cruel amusement. "Is that what you call fucking her while she's injured? Some protection!"

Y/N felt heat rush to her face at Mohawk's crude accusation, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and indignation. The cabin creaked ominously around her, the structural integrity compromised by the variants' violent exit. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling, a section of which had already partially collapsed.

Something primal stirred within her—self-preservation that had lain dormant under the collar's suppression. With desperate concentration, she focused on the power that had been denied her for so long. The sensation was like electricity coursing through her veins, uncomfortable yet exhilarating. Her muscles trembled with the effort, her face contorting as she pushed against her limitations, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.

The energy within her built slowly at first, then with increasing speed—a tingling at her core that spread outward to her limbs. It was like rediscovering a part of herself that had been amputated, painful in its return yet undeniably right. Her skin prickled with goosebumps, fine hairs standing on end as power surged through her.

With a strained grunt, Y/N launched herself toward the hole Omni and Mohawk had created. Her flight was wobbly, unpracticed—she ricocheted off the remaining wall, crying out as the impact sent fresh waves of pain through her torso. Blood trickled from the reopened wound, drops falling like crimson rain to the ruined cabin below as she corrected her trajectory and burst through the opening just as the cabin's roof collapsed with a deafening crash.

Dust and debris billowed outward, enveloping her in a cloud of particles that stung her eyes and choked her lungs. She coughed violently, each spasm sending darts of pain through her reopened wound. Her flight faltered, her concentration wavering as she struggled to stay airborne.

Outside, the battle intensified. Mohawk and Omni clashed in midair, the sound of their collisions echoing like cannon fire. Where Mohawk fought with wild, erratic movements fueled by emotional rage, Omni moved with precision, each strike calculated for maximum effect. Trees splintered and fell as they used the forest as their battleground, neither willing to yield.

"JUST FUCKING DIE!! She's MINE!" Mohawk roared, his voice cracking with emotion. His eyes were wild and unfocused, the veins in his forehead prominent as he drove his fist toward Omni's face. Sweat beaded on his brow, flying off in droplets with each violent movement. His mohawk had become completely disheveled, hanging limply to one side. "I found her first!"

Omni deflected the blow with efficiency, his expression composed despite the fury blazing behind his mask. His jawline remained tense, only the slight flare of his nostrils betraying his emotional state as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. Every movement was a study in controlled power, not a single motion wasted.

"Your claim is irrelevant," Omni replied, his voice cold and even. His eyes narrowed behind his mask, assessing Mohawk's weaknesses with clinical precision. Each word was delivered with perfect speech as if he were discussing a scientific theory rather than fighting for the possession of a woman. "You're too volatile, too unpredictable. You'll get her killed."

Y/N hovered uncertainly above the destruction, her limbs heavy and uncooperative as she struggled to maintain altitude. The forest below was being systematically destroyed, a mirror of the greater devastation they'd been inflicting on the planet before she had entered their lives. Massive trees lay uprooted, their ancient trunks splintered like matchsticks. Craters scarred the earth where superhuman blows had connected, the once-lush landscape now resembling a war zone.

"Enjoying the fight, my little warrior?" a silky voice whispered in her ear.

The whispered words caressed her ear, warm breath tickling her neck. Y/N flinched violently, her concentration breaking as she faltered in the air. The almost imperceptible scent of expensive cologne mixed with something darker, more primal, invaded her nostrils. Her stomach lurched as she began to fall—only to be caught by strong arms that pulled her firmly against a solid chest.

Sinister's hold was both gentle and possessive, his yellow and black suit vibrant against the blue sky. His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes—eyes that burned with an intensity that made her breath catch. The scent of sulfur and something darker, more primal, clung to him as he pressed his nose against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply like a predator committing its prey's scent to memory. His breath was hot against her skin, raising goosebumps despite the fever burning through her.

His entire body stiffened, the smile freezing on his face. When he pulled back to look at her, his expression had transformed into something dangerous, the mask of charm slipping to reveal the predator beneath. His pupils dilated, nearly swallowing the iris as his nostrils flared, drinking in her scent with animal intensity.

"Why does Omni's scent cover you so completely?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. His fingers dug into her arms, not enough to bruise but enough to demonstrate the barely leashed strength he possessed. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he struggled to control his reaction, pulsing visibly beneath his skin. 

"He was watching you… What exactly happened between you two in that cabin?"

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Sinister's grip shifted, one hand moving to cup her face. His thumb and forefinger pressed against her cheeks, squeezing until her lips puckered slightly. A drop of blood welled at the corner of her mouth where her split lip reopened, the metallic taste coating her tongue. His touch was paradoxically gentle despite the power behind it, his fingers warm against her fever-chilled skin.

"Why him?" Sinister whispered, his face close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. Something vulnerable flashed in his eyes, a momentary glimpse of raw pain before it was swallowed by possessive fury. The muscles in his jaw worked beneath his skin, tension radiating from his body. 

"Why not me? I would have protected you just as fiercely. I would have worshipped you more thoroughly."

His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, wiping away the blood. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted sharply with the tension radiating from his body. His pupils dilated as he stared at the smear of crimson on his glove, his breathing becoming more ragged. He brought the blood-stained finger to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the crimson smear. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring the metallic taste of her. When they opened again, they were darker, hungrier.

"Release her, Sinister."

The commanding voice cut through the tension like a knife. Viltrumite Mark hovered several feet away, his pristine white uniform a stark contrast against the smoky sky. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his face a mask of disapproval, eyes cold with barely restrained anger. Unlike the others, Viltrumite Mark carried himself with an almost regal bearing—shoulders squared, chin raised, every inch of him radiating authority.

"This doesn't concern you, old man," Sinister snarled.

His grip on Y/N remained unyielding, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her suit where it clung to her fever-dampened skin. The heat of his body radiated through the material, creating a cocoon of warmth that simultaneously comforted and alarmed her. His arm snaked possessively around her waist, resting just below her wound. The subtle pressure sent lightning bolts of pain through her abdomen, yet there was something intimately protective in the way he held her—like she was something precious he'd lost and miraculously found again.

Viltrumite Mark's expression hardened, the muscles in his jaw flexing beneath his skin like steel cables being pulled taut. Afternoon sunlight caught in his eyes, illuminating the amber flecks hidden within the depths of brown, giving them an almost supernatural glow. A subtle twitch appeared at the corner of his right eye—the only visible indication of his growing anger.

"Everything concerning her involves all of us," he stated, his voice dropping an octave, the words vibrating with barely restrained fury.

He moved closer, each step measured and precise, the pristine white of his uniform a stark contrast to the destruction surrounding them. The devastated forest stretched like a wound across the landscape, with uprooted trees, and shattered earth testament to the variants' earlier battle. The distant smoke of burning cities hung on the horizon, a grim reminder of the chaos they had unleashed upon this world.

"You will release her. Now." The command hung in the air, heavy with authority.

"Or what?" Sinister's lips stretched into a smile that was all teeth, gleaming white against his tanned skin.

His eyes never left Viltrumite Mark's face, challenge radiating from his posture—from the defiant tilt of his chin to the ready tension in his shoulders. His body coiled like a spring, prepared for conflict, fingers digging minutely deeper into Y/N's flesh. The small indentations would surely leave bruises, and violet shadows to mark his possession.

"You'll fight me? Go ahead," he taunted, his breath hot against Y/N's ear, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine. "But remember who bleeds if I drop her."

"Stop it," Y/N said, her voice stronger than she expected.

She pressed her palms against Sinister's chest, creating a small space between them. The firm muscle beneath her fingers tensed at her touch, his heartbeat pounding against her palms like a war drum. Her eyes flashed with determination despite the pain etched into the lines of her face, fever making her skin glow almost luminescent in the filtered sunlight that pierced through the swirling dust.

"I'm not a prize to be fought over," she declared, each word precise and cutting.

Both variants looked at her with surprise, clearly not expecting resistance from her in her weakened state. A bead of sweat traced its way down her temple, a testament to the infection raging through her system, yet her gaze remained steady and defiant.

Viltrumite Mark recovered first, his expression softening fractionally. The harsh lines around his mouth relaxed, though the tension in his powerful frame remained. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly, becoming less threatening while still maintaining his authority—a predator choosing to retract its claws, but only momentarily.

"Of course not," he agreed, inclining his head slightly. The gesture was almost courtly, a curious formality amidst the apocalyptic landscape. "You are far more valuable than any prize. Which is precisely why you should not be manhandled by this—" his lip curled with distaste, "—degenerate."

Sinister's laughter erupted, sharp and brittle like breaking glass. It bounced off the ruined landscape, echoing in the unnatural silence that had fallen over the devastated forest.

"Such hypocrisy!" he spat, the words dripping with contempt. "You fucking smell her too, don't you?"

He leaned in closer to Y/N, his nose brushing against the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The intimate gesture was performed with deliberate provocation, his eyes remaining fixed on Viltrumite Mark, gleaming with malicious amusement. 

His lips, warm and soft, grazed her pulse point—not quite a kiss, but something more possessive, more primal. Y/N couldn't suppress the involuntary shudder that rippled through her body, her traitorous nerves responding to his touch despite her better judgment.

"Tell me, old man," Sinister continued, his voice dropping to a husky murmur that seemed to caress her skin, "does it burn you up inside knowing he got to her first? That she chose that cold, calculating bastard over the rest of us?"

Viltrumite Mark's nostrils flared as he took in the scene, his enhanced senses confirming what Sinister had said. The scent of another variant on Y/N's skin was unmistakable—the unique pheromonal signature of Omni lingering on her like an invisible brand. His expression hardened, the lines around his mouth deepening as his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle jumped in his cheek.

The white of his uniform seemed to glow in the afternoon light, immaculate despite the chaos around him—a visual representation of his attempt to maintain control, to rise above the base instincts that drove the other variants.

"What have you done?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. His gaze fixed on Sinister, misinterpreting the situation. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking with the tension. "You think you can claim her? Mark her with your scent like some animal?"

Sinister's lips pulled back in a sneer, his arms tightening protectively around Y/N. For all his antagonism, there was something genuinely defensive in the way he held her now as if shielding her from judgment.

"Are you blind? I just fucking told you it wasn't me," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. The vein in his temple pulsed visibly with each heartbeat, his anger a living thing beneath his skin. "It was Omni. The so-called perfect, logical Mark couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Viltrumite's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed to slits. His carefully maintained composure cracked, revealing a glimpse of the fury beneath. The perfect stillness of his body was more threatening than any movement could have been.

"Liar," he snarled, launching himself at Sinister with blinding speed.

Sinister released Y/N just before impact, sending her tumbling through the air as he met Viltrumite Mark's charge. The collision sent shockwaves through the atmosphere, the sound like a thunderclap as the two variants grappled midair. Their bodies moved so quickly they became blurs of yellow, black, and white, punctuated by the explosive sounds of their blows connecting.

Y/N struggled to stabilize herself, her limbs heavy and uncooperative. The infection was spreading rapidly, sapping her strength with each passing moment. Her vision blurred, the world tilting dangerously around her. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her skin flushed with fever despite the chill in the air. The edges of her sight darkened, threatening unconsciousness as her body fought the invasive infection.

Below, the battle had escalated. Omni and Mohawk had noticed the new conflict and were now involved in a four-way brawl that tore through what remained of the forest like a tornado. Trees snapped like toothpicks under the force of their blows, the earth itself cratering with each impact. The air vibrated with the concussive force of their combat, dust and debris swirling in chaotic patterns around the fighting variants.

Most of the forest had been uprooted, leaving a desolate wasteland punctuated by splintered stumps and massive trees embedded in the earth like javelins. Boulders had been pulverized into dust, the very ground scarred and cratered by their supernatural strength. The destruction was systematic and complete—a microcosm of what they had been doing to the entire planet.

Y/N watched in horror as the variants tried to tear each other apart. All because of her. All because each believed she belonged to them alone. Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as if trying to escape. The stitches in her side pulled with each labored breath, blood still seeping through the bandages to stain her clothing.

"Stop!" she cried, her voice lost in the cacophony of destruction. Her face contorted with desperation, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Please, stop!"

Mohawk, his face twisted in a feral snarl, ripped a massive tree from the ground and hurled it at Omni. The red-suited variant easily dodged, the improvised projectile sailing past him toward Sinister and Viltrumite.

Both variants moved in unison, avoiding the missile without breaking their combat rhythm. Viltrumite punched the tree as it passed, splitting it in half. One section continued its trajectory, spinning wildly through the air.

Directly toward Y/N.

Under normal circumstances, she would have easily evaded the danger. But weakened by infection, disoriented by blood loss, and out of practice with her powers, Y/N found herself frozen in place. Her muscles locked, her mind blank with sudden panic, eyes wide with terror. The fever clouding her thoughts slowed her reactions to a crawl, leaving her hovering helplessly in the path of destruction.

The massive tree trunk hurtled toward her, and she couldn't move.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched the projectile approach, oddly detached from the reality of her impending doom. She could see the rough texture of the bark, and count the rings in the exposed wood where it had been torn from the earth. She could make out individual leaves still clinging to its branches, trembling in the disturbed air. She could hear the whistle of air being displaced as it approached, feel the subtle change in pressure against her skin.

"NO!" The cry came from multiple throats at once, a chorus of horror as all four variants realized her peril simultaneously.

They moved as one, abandoning their fights to converge on Y/N. Four blurs—red and white, blue and black, yellow and black, pure white—streaked through the air, racing against the projectile threatening to end her life.

Omni reached her first, his arm wrapping around her waist to pull her aside. His body was solid and warm against hers, his grip secure yet careful to avoid her injury.

 The scent of him—clean, masculine, with undertones of sandalwood—enveloped her, familiar from the night before together. For a moment, despite the danger, her body responded to his proximity, remembering the gentle yet passionate way he had touched her in the cabin.

Sinister appeared a fraction of a second later, his body positioned to shield her from impact. His back pressed against her front, creating a protective sandwich with Omni behind her. The heat of his body seeped through her suit, his powerful back muscles tensing as he prepared to take the brunt of the impact. There was something achingly vulnerable in his willingness to use his body as a shield for her—this man who had helped destroy her world.

Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk arrived in the same instant, each grabbing part of the tree trunk, their combined strength bringing it to an abrupt halt mere inches from where Y/N now hovered in Omni's protective embrace. The wood splintered under their grip, sap oozing from the fresh breaks like amber tears.

The sudden silence was deafening after the chaos of battle. All four variants were breathing heavily, not from exertion but from fear—fear for her safety. Their eyes were wide, pupils dilated, faces drained of color at how close they had come to losing her again.

Y/N stared at the tree trunk still held in Viltrumite Mark and Mohawk's grip, her heart hammering against her ribs. The blood drained from her face as shock set in, leaving her pale and trembling, her lips bloodless and parted in silent terror. 

For a moment, she couldn't process how close she'd come to death. Her mind struggled to reconcile the violence around her with the protective circle now forming.

A hot flush spread across her cheeks as she realized the intensity of their gazes. Each variant looked at her with fierce protectiveness—Omni's eyes burned with determination behind his mask, his jaw set tight; Mohawk's wild gaze was tempered with genuine fear, his usual sneer replaced with concern; Sinister's face showed naked possessiveness, his lips slightly parted and breath ragged; and Viltrumite Mark's regal features were softened by relief, his eyes reflecting a pain born from past loss.

Omni's arm tightened around her waist, careful to avoid her injury. "Are you alright?" he murmured in her ear, his voice low and urgent as his hot breath fanned over one side of her face.

Despite the mask covering his eyes, she could see the concern etched into every line of his face—the tight set of his jaw, the slight furrow between his brows, the tension around his mouth. For once, his voice held a tremor of emotion, breaking through his usually perfect control. The hand at her waist moved in a small circle, a subtle, unconscious caress that sent warmth blooming through her despite her weakened state.

"I—yes," she managed, though her voice shook as badly as her limbs. The adrenaline was fading, leaving her weak and disoriented. Blood continued to seep through her bandages, the crimson stain spreading wider across the fabric. The world spun around her, fever and blood loss taking their toll. She leaned heavily against Omni, no longer able to support her own weight.

Mohawk and Viltrumite Mark discarded the tree trunk, letting it fall to the devastated landscape below with a thunderous crash. The four variants formed a protective circle around Y/N, their previous animosity temporarily forgotten in the wake of her near-miss. Their bodies created a wall between her and the world, a barrier made of flesh and bone and superhuman power.

Y/N looked at each of them in turn, seeing the intensity in their eyes, the tension in their faces, and the mix of possessiveness and genuine concern that animated their features. It was overwhelming, this circle of identical yet different men, all focused solely on her. Each face was the same, yet each expression was unique—Omni's controlled precision, Mohawk's volatile emotion, Sinister's predatory charm, Viltrumite Mark's regal authority.

"This is ridiculous," she said, her voice steadier now despite the blood loss making her light-headed. Her eyes flashed with defiance, fever giving them an unnatural brightness. "You're fighting over me like I'm some... some trophy, but none of you bothered to ask what I want."

The variants exchanged glances, a mixture of guilt and stubbornness on their faces. The tension between them was palpable, a living thing that crackled in the air like electricity. For a moment, no one spoke, the only sound was the distant crash of falling trees damaged in their battle.

Mohawk was the first to break the silence, a bark of laughter escaping his throat. The sound was harsh and abrupt, startling against the sudden quiet. His blue and black suit was torn in places, revealing tanned skin beneath. Dust and debris clung to his signature mohawk, dulling its usual sharp silhouette.

"Well, sleeping beauty, what do you want?" he asked, cocking his head to one side, his mohawk flopping slightly with the movement.

There was genuine curiosity beneath his usual bravado, his brown eyes searching her face intently. A drop of blood trickled from a cut above his eyebrow, tracing a path down his temple like a crimson tear. His gaze flicked briefly to Omni's arm still wrapped around her waist, a scowl darkening his features.

"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like Omni already staked his claim." The accusation hung in the air, loaded with resentment and jealousy.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks, painfully aware of how she must appear to them—Omni's scent on her skin, her lips still swollen from his kisses, her body cradled protectively against his. She felt Omni's grip tighten almost imperceptibly around her waist, a silent claim that contradicted his seemingly logical demeanor. His thumb moved in a small, soothing circle against her side, the gesture intimate and possessive.

"I don't belong to anyone," she stated firmly, though her voice lacked some conviction as she remained in Omni's embrace. Her chin lifted defiantly, eyes flashing with feverish intensity. "Not the GDA, not Cecil, and not..." she hesitated, her eyes moving from one variant to the next, lingering on each identical yet distinct face, "...not any of you."

They all pause, as the air around them seems to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern before turning to normal…

She sighed ignoring it as a bitter laugh escaped her lips. The sound was hollow, edged with pain and frustration. "Without the collar, I don't serve a purpose for any of you. I'm not a weapon, not a tool to be used and discarded." The words burned in her throat, raw with emotion. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles white with tension.

Viltrumite Mark's expression softened almost imperceptibly. The hard lines around his mouth relaxed, his eyes warming with something akin to tenderness. The white of his uniform caught the late afternoon light, giving him an almost angelic appearance that belied the destruction he had helped cause.

"You misunderstand," he said, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it. 

"We used the collar as just another means for us convincing ourselves there was a logical approach to keeping you alive. Now without it, our claim still stands,” he hums softly.

“We don't seek to own you or use you. We seek to cherish you." A flicker of vulnerability crossed his usually stoic face, a glimpse of the man beneath the regal exterior. "Each of us lost you once. We cannot bear to lose you again."

His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, the sincerity in his voice striking something deep within her. Before she could respond, another voice cut through the moment.

"Can't we all just have her?" The question came from behind them, unexpected and startling.

All heads turned to see No-Mask hovering several yards away, his expression unusually thoughtful. Unlike the others, his face was still fully visible, allowing Y/N to see the earnestness in his eyes, the slight uncertainty in the set of his mouth. His face was somehow softer, more open than the others, lacking the hardened edge that years of wearing a mask had given them.

Without the barrier of a mask, his emotions were laid bare—confusion, desire, hope all visible in his expressive features. The late afternoon sun gilded his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the depths of his unguarded eyes. There was something disarmingly honest about him that made Y/N's heart flutter despite her condition.

"What did you just say?" Sinister's voice was dangerously soft as he regarded No-Mask. His body tensed, readying for another potential fight, the muscle in his jaw jumping with tension.

"I mean, she's clearly important to all of us," No-Mask continued, his expression thoughtful. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that was both nervous and thoughtful. 

"Fighting over her is just going to get her killed." His eyes darted to Y/N's wound, concern evident in his gaze. "Look at her—she's already suffering because of our conflict."

Another figure appeared beside him, drifting lazily through the air. Prisoner Mark, his burned face twisted in a permanent sneer, his eyes roving over Y/N's body with unconcealed interest. The scar tissue pulled his lips into an asymmetrical grimace that might have been a smile. Light glinted off the metal restraints still attached to his wrists, remnants of his imprisonment that he wore like trophies.

"I mean, she's got three holes," he drawled, his voice rough and gravelly from smoke damage. 

"But we can make it work." His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the movement slow and deliberate, eyes never leaving Y/N's body. The crude suggestion hung in the air, made all the more disturbing by his casual delivery.

Disgust and revulsion flooded through Y/N, her stomach churning with nausea, her upper lip curling in distaste. Yet beneath her revulsion, there was something else—a flutter of confused interest as no one seemed to disagree with Prisoner's statement. The silence from the others was deafening, their lack of objection more telling than any words could have been.

She looked up at Omni, his hands still loosely around her waist. His face betrayed nothing, but the tension in his body told a different story. The muscles beneath his suit were coiled tight, his breathing carefully controlled. She thought she had built a connection with him in the cabin during their half-night together. She thought he saw her differently, as more than just a replacement for the Y/N he had lost. But now, surrounded by these men who all wore the same face, she wasn't sure anymore.

The realization hit her like a physical blow: Why were all these men so obsessed with her? Was it truly her they wanted, or the memory of the women they had lost? Was she nothing more than a ghost to them, a shadow of women long dead?

She needed to get away. Away from these men who looked at her like she was a prize to be won, a possession to be claimed. Away from the conflicting emotions they stirred within her—the disgust and the attraction, the fear and the longing.

With a desperate surge of strength, Y/N pushed Omni away and fled, pushing her weakened body to its limits as she shot through the air. The wind whipped past her face, cooling the fever heat of her skin. Below, the forest blurred into a sea of green, the destruction caused by the variants' battle a dark scar across the landscape.

Freedom was within her grasp. She could escape, could find somewhere to hide until she'd recovered enough to—

Strong hands closed around her waist, halting her flight so suddenly that the air was knocked from her lungs. Looking back, she found herself staring into Mohawk's face, his expression unexpectedly gentle despite the harsh lines etched around his mouth. The setting sun backlit his signature mohawk, creating a halo effect that softened his typically menacing appearance. Tiny beads of sweat glistened along his temples, catching the golden light. His jaw—usually set in a perpetual sneer—had relaxed, revealing a vulnerability she hadn't seen before.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice firm but gentle. His hands were steady on her waist, his grip secure without being painful. "Not in your condition."

Unlike the other variants, Mohawk wore his emotions openly on his face. The harsh lines around his mouth had softened, and his perpetually furrowed brow had relaxed. His eyes—those deep brown pools flecked with amber when caught in the right light—held a desperate intensity that made her breath catch. Behind the typical hardness of his expression lurked something raw and unguarded. When he looked at her, the snarky mask slipped, revealing not just desire but a terrifying depth of obsession.

Even now, as he held her suspended in the air, his thumbs absently traced small circles against her sides. The sensation sent shivers across her fevered skin, conflicting emotions of comfort and unease battling within her.

"Let me go," Y/N demanded, her voice weaker than she intended. She struggled against his hold, but her strength was fading rapidly. The infection was spreading, her temperature rising dangerously. Perspiration beaded on her forehead, trailing down her temples in rivulets that caught the dying sunlight like diamond tracks. Her skin flushed an alarming crimson, hot to the touch and stretched taut across her cheekbones. "I don't belong to any of you!"

"No, you don't," Mohawk agreed, surprising her. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his emotional state. The hand not supporting her waist came up to brush a sweat-soaked strand of hair from her forehead. His calloused fingers felt blessedly cool against her burning skin.

"But you need help. You're dying, Y/N. You are not a Viltrumite like the rest of us... you are man-made." His eyes dropped to her wound, where fresh blood was seeping through the bandages, the crimson stain spreading in a grotesque blooming pattern across the fabric. The metallic scent of her blood hung in the air between them, sharp and alarming. "Your body can't fight this infection without help."

The blunt assessment stopped her struggles. She knew he was right—could feel her body failing, the infection burning through her defenses like wildfire. Without proper medical care, she wouldn't survive much longer. The fever was clouding her thoughts, making her limbs heavy and uncooperative. Her vision blurred at the edges, reality wavering like heat rising from desert sand.

"Why do you care?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable. She searched his face, looking for deceit, for hidden motives. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across his features, highlighting the tension around his eyes, the tiny scar at his jawline she hadn't noticed before. A muscle jumped erratically beneath the skin of his cheek, betraying his carefully controlled emotions.

"I'm not your Y/N. I'm not any of your Y/Ns." Her voice cracked on the last word, raw emotion breaking through. "Why can't any of you just see me for ME?!"

Mohawk's expression softened, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his eyebrows drew together in an expression of heartbreaking honesty. "No, you're not," he acknowledged.

His eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. As she looked into their brown depths, she saw beyond the anger and violence that defined him—saw the obsession simmering beneath. 

Mohawk wasn't just attracted to her; he was consumed by her, possessed by her very existence in a way that bordered on terrifying. There was love there, yes, but twisted and desperate, born from loss and madness.

"But you're still Y/N. A different version, perhaps, but still the woman we all loved—in our own ways, in our own worlds." He faltered, struggling with words that didn't come easily to him. "Fuck it, I can't... Fuck," he mumbled, his composure cracking further.

His hands came up to her face, moving slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. Y/N glared at him but remained still, allowing his touch. His fingertips were surprisingly gentle against her fevered skin, calloused thumbs brushing across her cheekbones with a tenderness that seemed out of place amidst the destruction surrounding them.

The physical contrast was striking—his massive hands, capable of ripping trees from the earth and punching through concrete, now cradling her face as if she were made of spun glass. She could see the dirt embedded beneath his fingernails, the scrapes across his knuckles from the earlier battle, the slight tremor that betrayed his emotional state. Each point where his skin touched hers became an anchor in her fever-hazed world, electric and alive.

Mohawk's eyes revealed everything he couldn't say. She could see the microscopic dilation of his pupils as they fixed on her face, the slight moisture gathering at the corners, the way the afternoon light caught the amber flecks within the deep brown. Tiny blood vessels mapped the whites of his eyes, evidence of exhaustion and stress. His lashes—longer than she'd noticed before—cast faint shadows on his cheeks when he blinked.

He traced the contours of her face as if memorizing them, his fingers trembling almost imperceptibly—like he was touching a ghost he'd never expected to see again. His thumb brushed over her lower lip, the touch feather-light yet sending shockwaves through her system. 

The pad of his thumb was rough, calloused from years of violence, yet his touch was exquisitely gentle.

"Please... fucking please, I waited so long..." he whispered, his voice breaking with need, quivering with a vulnerability that the cocky Mohawk would never normally allow anyone to hear. 

His eyes dropped to her lips, darkening with desire, his breath coming faster, stirring the loose strands of hair around her face. "Let me."

“I know Omni got to kiss you first... to hold you first... but I need this more than I've ever needed anything…” His expression spoke volumes, raw emotion written across features usually set in arrogant lines. The late afternoon sun caught in his eyes, illuminating the desperate yearning there—a silent plea that went beyond mere desire.

Despite everything—her anger, her confusion, her illness—Y/N found herself nodding, a barely perceptible movement. Mohawk leaned forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind. His lips brushed against hers, gentle and questioning at first, then with growing hunger as she didn't pull away.

He growled against her lips, a primal sound that vibrated through her core. He spoke against her lips. At this moment, nothing else existed—not the destruction below, not the other variants flying towards them, watching, not even the infection ravaging her body. There was only this connection, this single point where past and present converged.

The kiss deepened, his lips warm and insistent against hers. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he drew her closer. The slight scratch of his stubble against her skin added to the sensory overload, a delicious friction that contrasted with the surprising softness of his lips. Mohawk kissed with none of his usual aggression, instead with a desperate yearning that spoke of years of loneliness.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open briefly during the kiss, catching glimpses of his expression—eyes closed in concentration, brow relaxed, the harsh lines of his face softened by something akin to peace. When his eyes opened to meet hers, she saw naked adoration in them, dreamy and unfocused with desire. His lips, usually set in a hard line or cruel smirk, were soft against hers, moving with a gentleness that belied his brutal nature.

Despite his obvious hunger, he held himself in check, fighting the urge to deepen the kiss further, to run his hands over her body. She could feel the restraint in the tension of his muscles, in the careful placement of his hands—one at her waist, one at her nape, both trembling slightly with the effort not to crush her against him.

Y/N found herself responding, her hands coming up to rest against his chest, feeling the thunderous beating of his heart beneath her palms. The solid warmth of him was like an anchor in a storm, steadying her as fever and desire made her head spin. His suit was damp with sweat and smooth against her fingertips, the powerful muscles beneath twitching at her touch. For a moment, the world around them faded—the destruction, the other variants, her illness—all of it receding as she lost herself in the passionate fire of his kiss.

He gently pulled her flush against him, a soft gasp escaping her as their bodies connected. The height difference between them meant that his evident arousal pressed against her stomach rather than her hips, the prominence of his bulge impossible to ignore even through his full-body suit. Glancing down briefly, she could see where the fabric stretched taut, a small dark stain spreading at the tip where his excitement had overcome even the containment of his uniform.

His response to her was primal and unashamed, his body reacting with an honesty his words couldn't match. Each small sound she made—each gasp and sigh—elicited a corresponding groan from him, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into her own. He mumbled incoherently against her lips, soft words meant only for her, desperate professions intermingled with curses.

"Oh god," he whispered against her mouth, the words half prayer, half profanity.

The moment was shattered by a growl of rage.

Y/N and Mohawk broke apart to find the other variants surrounding them, faces twisted with jealousy and possessiveness. The passionate moment dissolved into tension as four pairs of identical yet distinct eyes locked onto them with tangible fury.

Omni's usually composed features were dark with fury, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl. The perfect order of his appearance had fractured—his hair disheveled from the earlier fight, a vein pulsing prominently at his temple, his breathing uncharacteristically ragged. What made the display so shocking was how completely it shattered his carefully maintained facade of control. 

Sinister's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits behind his black lenses, his shoulders rising and falling with each rapid breath. His gloved hands opened and closed reflexively at his sides, the leather creaking audibly with each movement. The smirk that typically adorned his face had vanished, replaced by a thin-lipped expression of pure rage. Unlike Omni, Sinister made no attempt to hide his emotions—his jealousy radiated from him in almost visible waves.

Viltrumite Mark's jaw worked silently beneath his skin, the muscle jumping erratically at the hinge. His white uniform, though still immaculate compared to the others, bore smudges of dirt and debris from the earlier conflict. His eyes never left Y/N's face, something possessive and dangerous lurking in their depths.

No-Mask's reaction was the most naked, his face contorted with undisguised pain and betrayal. Without the barrier of a mask, every emotion played across his features in high definition—the shock, the hurt, the jealousy. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as if the sight of Y/N in Mohawk's arms had robbed him of speech. A flush crept up his neck, staining his cheeks crimson with emotion.

HI gaze dropped momentarily to the prominent bulge in Mohawk's suit, the wet spot at the tip of his erection visible to all. No-Mask's expression shifted from pain to embarrassment to anger in rapid succession, his own body responding involuntarily to the sight of Y/N's flushed face and swollen lips.

Sinister caught the direction of No-Mask's gaze and let out a bark of laughter, the sound brittle and sharp. "Getting a little excited there, Mohawk? Can't say I blame you." His tone was deliberately casual, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his own jealousy. 

"Though I prefer a more... private approach to these matters." Despite his mocking words, there was an undercurrent of pure rage in his voice.

As soon as the other variants approached, Mohawk's arm tightened around Y/N, his moment of vulnerability disappearing behind a sneer. The air around them seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken tension as the others formed a loose circle around them, hovering like sentinels in the devastated sky.

Omni's face was a study in controlled panic. While his posture remained rigid and his movements precise, his jaw muscle twitched beneath the skin, a hairline fracture in his perfect composure. The corner of his left eye spasmed minutely, and a vein at his temple pulsed in rhythm with his accelerated heartbeat. His breathing was deliberately measured, each inhale and exhale carefully calibrated to maintain the illusion of calm while his eyes, behind his mask, never left Y/N's face.

"I thought we forged something unique in the cabin," he stated, his voice carefully neutral despite the accusation inherent in the words. "Was that a lie?"

Sinister's head tilted slightly forward like a predator tracking wounded prey. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, leaving them glistening in the afternoon light. The corner of his mouth curled upward in a half-smile that never reached his eyes—eyes hidden behind black lenses that reflected Y/N's own pale face back at her.

"Don't act so surprised, Omni," he taunted, his voice silky with malice. "Did you think she would be satisfied with your clinical approach to pleasure? Your calculated touches and precisely timed kisses?" He moved closer to Y/N and Mohawk, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face with unexpected gentleness. "She needs passion, fire... not your cold logic."

No-Mask couldn't contain his panic, hovering several feet away, hands opening and closing at his sides. His eyes were wide and wild, darting between Y/N and the blood seeping through her bandages. The crimson stain had grown significantly larger during the brief kiss, the fabric now saturated to a disturbing degree.

"This is fucking ridiculous," Viltrumite Mark snarled, his regal composure shattered completely. His pristine white uniform stood in stark contrast to the chaos of his emotions, the fabric rippling as his muscles tensed beneath. His usually authoritative demeanor had given way to something raw and urgent. "She's dying, and you're all fighting over who gets to kiss her next? Are your dicks controlling your brains now?"

The crude phrasing from the typically dignified Viltrumite Mark shocked them all into momentary silence. He no longer hovered regally above them but had descended to their level, hands clenched into fists at his sides, jaw set in a hard line.

"You need medical attention," Omni stated, his voice steady despite the worry evident in his eyes. A single bead of sweat traced a path down his temple, disappearing beneath the edge of his mask. His hands opened and closed at his sides, the leather of his gloves creaking softly with each movement. "The infection is spreading rapidly. If we don't act soon, you'll die."

"So what?" Y/N challenged, her voice brittle with pain and defiance. She pushed away from Mohawk, her movements uncoordinated and weak. Blood had soaked through her bandages completely now, the fabric dark and heavy against her skin. The metallic scent hung in the air around her, sharp and concerning. Her eyes burned with fever, pupils dilated and unfocused as she swept her gaze across all of them. "Why should I trust any of you? You came here to destroy my world, to kill everyone!"

The accusation hung in the air between them, sharp and undeniable. The devastation below—uprooted trees, cratered earth, the distant smoke of burning cities—stood as mute testament to her words. From their elevated position, they could see the destruction that stretched to the horizon—forests flattened, roads cratered, and buildings reduced to rubble. In the distance, several pillars of smoke rose from what had once been thriving communities, now reduced to ash and debris.

Silence fell over the group, heavy with unspoken guilt. It was Sinister who finally broke it, his usual swagger absent as he spoke.

"Because we lost you once," he said, his voice low and controlled, though something in it wavered ever so slightly. He didn't remove his black lenses, but the set of his mouth—usually twisted in a cruel smirk—had softened into something almost vulnerable. "All of us, in different ways. And it broke us."

He gestured around at the assembled variants, his movements precise and measured, lacking their usual predatory grace.

"Look at what we became without you. Monsters. Killers." He paused, a smirk returning to his lips as he added, "Well, I was always a killer. Enjoyed it, too. But the others..." He let the implication hang, eyes hidden behind his black lenses but his meaning clear.

He floated closer to Y/N, his approach cautious, as if afraid she might flee again. When he stood before her, he did something unexpected—he took her hand in his, the leather of his glove warm against her skin as his thumb traced gentle circles on her wrist.

"I know you're not her—not my Y/N," he said softly. "But when I saw you, something inside me that died with her came back to life." His free hand hovered near her face, trembling slightly before he let it fall away, as if he didn't trust himself. "I can't lose that again. I can't go back to being just an... empty fucking killer without you."

"Planet shit doesn't fucking matter!" Mohawk's voice cracked with emotion, the smooth veneer he usually wore shattering like glass. He pushed forward, hovering closer, his face contorted with an emotion too complex to name. Sweat beaded along his hairline, causing strands of hair to stick to his forehead in dark, damp tendrils. His gaze never left Y/N's face, drinking in every detail like a man dying of thirst. The prominent bulge still strained against his suit, a visible reminder of their interrupted kiss.

"The main point is—" He stopped, struggling to find the right words. In a movement both desperate and gentle, he pushed Sinister out of the way to take her hands in his. Sinister's face darkened with anger, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he was forced aside.

Mohawk looked deeply into her eyes, his own intense and sincere. The pupils were so dilated that only a thin ring of color remained visible, black swallowing brown in a visual representation of his emotional state. A muscle jumped in his jaw, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His expression mirrored the vulnerability he'd shown during their kiss—raw, unfiltered emotion that he'd never allow anyone else to witness.

"We won't fucking lose you again," he added, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that seemed to caress her skin like a physical touch. The sound vibrated in the air between them, intimate despite their audience. His grip on her hand tightened fractionally, not enough to hurt but enough to convey his desperation. "Even if we have to share you. We can find a way to work it out."

The last sentence hung in the air, loaded with implications that made Y/N's stomach flutter despite her condition. Mohawk leaned closer, his breath warm against her face as he uttered a final promise, the words carrying the weight of an oath: "You will love us, Y/N... Love me..."

The declaration sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with her fever. There was something in his tone—a certainty, a devotion—that both frightened and thrilled her.

Before she could respond, the air around them seemed to wobble, particles shifting in an unnatural pattern. 

The variants tensed, sensing the disturbance—a tension in reality that they'd felt earlier but had ignored in their confrontation. Now it returned, stronger and more insistent like fabric being stretched to its breaking point.

With a sound like reality tearing, a black portal materialized twenty feet away in the air. The edges crackled with dark energy, ribbons of shadow writhing around its circumference like living things. From its depths, a body was thrown—no, hurled—into their midst.

Darkwing crashed to the ground with a sickening thud, his body a broken, bloody mess. His costume was in tatters, revealing flesh beneath that was more wound than skin. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, clearly ripped backward if not worse. The other appeared to be barely attached, held to his body by thin strips of muscle and costume fabric. His mask was half torn away, revealing a face so bruised and bloodied it was barely recognizable as human. Through split and swollen lips, he drew rattling breaths, each one sounding more painful than the last.

From the portal stepped a figure that radiated casual cruelty—Lensless Mark. His uniform was tattered and ripped, his face and hands spattered with blood. Unlike the other variants, his mask resembled that of a luchador, lacking the traditional goggles and giving his face a strangely naked quality despite being covered. His lips were curled in a smile that held no warmth, only satisfaction at the suffering he'd caused. Areas of his suit were torn at the pecs and abdomen, revealing tanned, scarred skin beneath.

"How touching. The monsters have found their beauty," he drawled, his gaze sweeping over the assembled variants before landing on Y/N.

All heads turned to face him, bodies instinctively shifting to place themselves between Y/N and the newcomer. The protective formation happened without discussion or planning—a unified response from men who moments ago had been at each other's throats.

"So this is what's been keeping you all distracted," he continued, his gaze roving over Y/N's body with interest. Unlike the others, there was no warmth in his assessment, only a cold calculation that made her skin crawl. "I was wondering where everyone disappeared to after I got trapped in there. NO fucking help came for me. "

His appearance shocked the other variants. They had believed him dead, pulled into the shadowverse by Darkwing. Their expressions reflected their confusion and growing concern. With the war still ongoing and so few of them remaining after the brutal fighting, Lensless's return was an unexpected complication.

"What did you all call her? Y/N?" he mused, his head tilting as if considering the name. "Hmm. Yes. Rather mundane, isn't it?"

"This doesn't concern you," Omni said, his voice icy as he shifted to partially block Y/N from Lensless's view. His body language was pure protectiveness now, all traces of his earlier jealousy subsumed by this new threat.

Lensless laughed, the sound sharp and without humor. "Oh, but it does. Angstrom is looking for all of you. The final phase is about to begin." His eyes narrowed behind his mask as he focused on Y/N again. 

"Though I must say, I'm curious about what makes this one so special that you'd take a detour from our true mission."

In a movement almost too fast to follow, he appeared directly in front of Y/N, brushing past the protective circle of variants. His gloved hand reached out, gripping her chin and tilting her face up to his. His touch was neither gentle nor especially rough, simply... clinical. His thumb pressed against her lower lip, forcing it down slightly as he examined her face like a specimen.

"Awww I don't see it," he pronounced, his voice tinged with disappointment. 

"She looks like any other human to me. Fragile. Breakable." His grip tightened fractionally, enough to make Y/N wince. "Already dying from a simple infection. Pathetic."

The attack came from all sides at once.

Mohawk's fist connected with Lensless's jaw, the impact creating a sonic boom that shattered what few intact tree branches remained below. The punch sent Lensless spinning backward, a spray of blood arcing through the air from his split lip.

Before he could recover, Sinister appeared behind him, driving a knee into his spine with such force that Y/N could hear the vertebrae crack. The blow arched Lensless's back at an unnatural angle, his mouth opening in a silent scream of pain.

Omni and Viltrumite Mark moved in perfect unison, like dancers who had rehearsed for years. Omni struck high, his calculated punch landing precisely at the junction of Lensless's neck and shoulder, targeting the cluster of nerves there. Viltrumite Mark struck low, his fist driving into Lensless's solar plexus with enough force to expel all air from his lungs.

The combination of blows sent Lensless plummeting toward the devastated forest below. He crashed through three massive oak trees before hitting the ground with enough force to create a small crater, dirt, and debris exploding outward from the impact site.

No-Mask circled around, waiting for his opportunity, his face set in lines of determination rarely seen on his usually expressive features. He hovered above the impact site, ready to intercept if Lensless attempted to flee.

Y/N hovered, forgotten in the chaos of battle, her condition worsening by the second. The world tilted and spun around her, fever making everything blur at the edges. She pressed a hand to her wound, feeling fresh blood seep between her fingers. The warmth of it was alarming, spreading across her abdomen in a widening stain.

Below, the battle had expanded, the variants using the devastated landscape as both weapon and battleground. Mohawk tore a shattered tree trunk from the ground, hurling it at Lensless with enough force to level a building. The makeshift projectile whistled through the air, trailing leaves and splinters in its wake before Lensless dodged at the last second. The trunk embedded itself in the hillside behind him, quivering with the force of impact.

Omni calculated his trajectories, using precision strikes to herd Lensless into Sinister's path. Each punch was measured and deliberate, not seeking to cause damage but to manipulate Lensless's movements. Where Lensless dodged one blow, he found himself in the path of another, Omni's strategy becoming clear as Lensless was forced closer and closer to where Sinister waited.

Viltrumite Mark moved with regal fury, each blow causing sonic booms to ripple through the air. His white uniform was a blur of motion, seeming to be everywhere at once. Unlike the others, his attacks held nothing back—each punch and kick was delivered with the full force of his Viltrumite strength, intended not to subdue but to destroy.

Despite being outnumbered, Lensless held his own, his childish laughter echoing across the battlefield as he taunted and dodged. His fighting style was unpredictable, and chaotic, making him difficult to pin down. Where the others fought with purpose and strategy, Lensless fought like a child pulling wings from insects—with casual cruelty and evident enjoyment.

"You're all pathetic!" he called out, evading another coordinated attack. His voice carried across the battlefield, high and mocking. 

"Pining after a ghost! She's not even the same woman you lost!"

His words struck deeper than any physical blow could have. For a moment, hesitation rippled through the attacking variants, a half-second of doubt that Lensless immediately exploited. He surged upward, breaking free of their formation, and shot directly toward Y/N.

"Let's see how quickly you forget her when she's gone for good," he snarled, his hand reaching for her throat. The afternoon sun glinted off his gloved hand as it stretched toward her, fingers curled like talons.

Time seemed to slow. Y/N watched him approach, her body too weak to move, her mind oddly clear despite the fever. She could see every detail of his face as he neared—the hatred in his eyes, the cruel twist of his mouth, the tiny scar that bisected his right eyebrow. She could hear the panicked shouts of the other variants as they raced to intercept him, too far away to reach her in time.

In that moment of perfect clarity, something shifted inside her. The power that had been dormant since they'd removed the GDA collar flickered to life, responding to her desperate need. Energy surged through her veins, temporarily burning away the fever's fog.

As Lensless's hand closed around her throat, Y/N's eyes began to glow with an inner light. The blue-white radiance started at her pupils, spreading outward until her entire eyes were luminous pools of energy. Power radiated from her in visible waves, her hair lifting in an invisible wind, strands floating around her face like a dark halo. Her skin took on an ethereal glow, veins beneath the surface illuminated with the same blue-white light that consumed her eyes.

Her hand shot up, gripping his wrist with strength that belied her condition. Her fingers—moments ago weak and trembling—now closed around his arm with crushing force. The material of his suit compressed beneath her grip, the bones of his wrist grinding together audibly.

"Not today," she whispered, her voice resonating with newfound power. The sound seemed to come not just from her throat but from the air around them, as if reality itself amplified her words.

The energy exploded outward from her body in a concussive wave, sending Lensless flying backward with such force that he created a trench in the earth when he landed. The ground split open beneath the impact, dirt and rock spraying outward like water from a broken dam. Trees that had survived the earlier battles were flattened in concentric circles from the epicenter of Y/N's power.

The other variants braced themselves against the blast, shielding their eyes from the brilliant light emanating from Y/N. The wave passed over them, powerful enough to push them back but not to harm them—as if her power somehow recognized them as not-enemies.

For a moment, she hovered above them all, radiant and terrible, her body still suspended in the air by her own power. The infection that had been killing her was temporarily burned away by the energy coursing through her system. Her wound glowed from within, the damaged tissue knitting itself back together visibly, the process accelerated to a speed visible to the naked eye.

Beneath her torn clothing—the fabric of her suit shredded across her abdomen, exposing the smooth skin beneath—they could see muscle and tissue regenerating. The deep gash that had been leaking crimson life across her stomach closed before their eyes, angry red flesh knitting together with pulsing blue-white light. The tattered edges of her suit fluttered in the energy field emanating from her body, occasionally revealing glimpses of the curve of her breast where the fabric had been torn diagonally across her chest. The legs of her suit, stained dark with blood and dirt, ripped low on her hips, frayed and revealing a sliver of skin just above her hipbone.

The variants watched in awe, their identical faces transformed by different shades of the same emotion—wonder mixed with desire, concern tangled with reverence. The setting sun cast them all in amber light, highlighting the tension in their jaws, the dilation of their pupils, the parted lips as they struggled to comprehend what they were witnessing.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the power faded. The light dimmed, starting with her skin, then her veins, until finally, her eyes returned to their natural color. The glow receded like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving Y/N looking small and vulnerable once more. Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion replacing the momentary strength, and she began to fall.

Five figures moved as one, racing to catch her. The air crackled with their passage as they broke the sound barrier, converging on Y/N's falling form from different directions. They reached her simultaneously, each grabbing a part of her with careful strength—Omni supporting her shoulders, his gloved hands cradling her with gentle precision; Mohawk at her waist, his fingers splayed possessively across her exposed midriff; Viltrumite Mark securing her legs, his normally stoic expression softened with concern; Sinister cradling her head with uncharacteristic gentleness, leather-gloved fingers threading through her hair; and No-Mask hovering protectively above them all, his unobscured face displaying every nuance of his worry.

As a unit, they descended to the forest floor, moving in perfect coordination despite their earlier antagonism. They touched down on a relatively undamaged clearing, gently lowering Y/N onto one of the few untouched patches of soft grass left. The setting sun painted the scene in gold and crimson, the long shadows of the men stretching across Y/N's still form like protective fingers.

Omni knelt beside her, his pulse quickening beneath his uniform as his fingers sought the pulse at her neck. The skin there was soft and warm against his fingertips, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat a counterpoint to his own racing pulse. 

"It's steady," he reported, relief evident in the softening of his shoulders. The usually immaculate lines of his uniform were marred by dust and blood, a physical manifestation of the cracks appearing in his carefully constructed facade. 

"The wound is healed on the surface, but the internal damage may remain. Her fever has broken, but she's severely dehydrated and exhausted."

"What the hell was that?" No-Mask asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared at Y/N's unconscious form. His hand hovered near her face, not quite touching, trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. Unlike the others, his unmasked face revealed every emotion—awe, desire, fear—all written clearly in the widening of his eyes and the tension around his mouth. A smear of dirt marked his left cheek, a bead of sweat tracing its way down his temple. 

"I've never seen power like that from any Y/N in our universes."

"The GDA must have modified her differently in this reality," Viltrumite Mark mused, his regal stance betrayed by the concern in his eyes as they remained fixed on Y/N's face. His white uniform, normally pristine, bore the marks of battle—a tear across the chest, a smudge of dirt on the shoulder, droplets of blood spattered across the fabric. The sun caught in his hair, turning the brown strands gold at the edges. 

"Perhaps removing the collar didn't just free her from their control but unlocked abilities they were suppressing."

"Who gives a fuck about the how," Mohawk interjected, pacing restlessly nearby. Each step left an impression in the soft earth, his movements jittery with excess adrenaline. His signature hairstyle, usually maintained with meticulous precision, now lay partially flattened on one side, giving him a lopsided, almost vulnerable appearance. A bead of sweat traced the sharp angle of his jaw, disappearing beneath the high collar of his suit. "Did you see what she did to Lensless? One fucking touch and she sent him flying like a rag doll."

A grin spread across his face, carving deep lines around his eyes that crinkled with genuine joy rather than his usual cynicism. He gestured expansively, his gaze never leaving Y/N's still form. "My—our girl's got teeth."

His expression softened as he knelt beside her, one gloved hand hesitantly reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. The touch was feather-light, his fingertips lingering on her temple with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his usual brutality. "She's more than just a pretty face. She's fucking magnificent." The admiration in his voice was tinged with possessiveness, his eyes darkening as he added, "And she's ours."

"She's not out of danger," Omni cautioned, his hand resting lightly on Y/N's forehead. Though cooler than before, her skin still held an unnatural warmth beneath his touch. A muscle in his jaw twitched with suppressed emotion, a hairline crack in his usually perfect control. 

"That power surge likely depleted what little reserves she had left. She needs proper care, not just field medicine."

A groan from the nearby trench reminded them that Lensless was still a threat. The sadistic variant was pulling himself from the ground, blood streaming from multiple wounds. His suit was torn across the chest and abdomen, revealing muscled flesh beneath, scored with deep gashes that oozed crimson. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheek mottled with bruises. Blood dripped steadily from his split lip, splattering onto the churned earth beneath him in a rhythmic pattern. Despite his injuries, his visible eye gleamed with manic intensity, and his lips were twisted in a grin that spoke of insanity rather than humor.

"You think this changes anything?" he called, staggering to his feet. Each movement was labored, with evidence of broken bones and internal injuries. Blood dripped steadily from his fingertips, pattering onto the churned earth beneath him like macabre raindrops. His chest heaved with each breath, a wet rattle suggesting punctured lungs or broken ribs. Still, he straightened, defiant even in defeat.

"She'll die, just like all the others. And you'll all go back to being the monsters you truly are," he taunted, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground. The crimson spatter formed a grotesque pattern at his feet, shining wetly in the dying light. "We still have a mission to complete! Fuck this world and its beings. Angstrom is waiting for us!"

Mohawk's expression darkened, shadows gathering in the hollows of his cheeks as a savage smile spread across his face. "You know what? I'm going to enjoy this." He cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunshots in the quiet forest. His body tensed, muscles bunching visibly beneath his suit as he readied for the kill.

"Go," he said to Omni without taking his eyes off Lensless. "Take her to the meeting point with Angstrom. I'm done with this piece of shit."

Omni hesitated, looking down at Y/N's pale face. For once, indecision was written clearly in the set of his shoulders, the tension around his mouth. The evening light caught the moisture gathering in his eyes, transforming them into pools of liquid amber behind his mask. A single tear escaped, tracking a clean path through the dust on his face before falling onto Y/N's cheek—a glistening diamond against her flushed skin.

"Don't die," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. The kiss was feather-light, almost reverent, his breath warm against her skin, carrying the scent of aftershave and something uniquely him. His fingers brushed her cheek, lingering as if trying to memorize the texture. "Please."

With that, he was gone, streaking through the sky with Y/N held securely against his chest. His arms formed a protective cage around her, one hand cradling her head against his shoulder while the other supported her back. The wind whipped past them, ruffling her hair and cooling her fevered skin.

The remaining variants turned as one toward Lensless, spreading out to surround him. The setting sun cast long shadows ahead of them, turning four figures into monstrous silhouettes against the devastated landscape.

"Four against one?" Lensless laughed, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand, leaving a crimson smear across his cheek. The sound was wet and choked, bubbles of blood forming at the corners of his mouth. "Hardly seems fair."

"Good," Sinister replied, his smile all teeth, sharp canines gleaming in the dying light. His eyes were cold behind his black lenses, his posture deceptively relaxed even as his fingers flexed in anticipation. 

"We don't play fair anymore."

–––––––––

As Omni flew with Y/N toward their destination, her eyes fluttered open briefly. Sunlight filtered through clouds, casting dappled patterns across her face as the wind tousled her hair. Despite her condition, a small smile curved her lips as she looked up at him, raising a hand weakly to touch his face.

"You're crying," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the rush of wind. Her fingers, warm and gentle, traced the damp trail on his cheek, sending shivers down his spine.

"No, I'm not," he denied automatically, his usual defenses kicking in even as another tear escaped to contradict him. The droplet caught the light, transforming into a prism for a heartbeat before the wind whisked it away.

Y/N's smile widened slightly, her hand weakly reaching up to touch his cheek again. Her fingers came away damp, glistening in the sunlight. Her lips, still tender from Mohawk's earlier kisses, parted slightly as she whispered, "Liar."

A laugh escaped him, the sound rusty from disuse. His eyes crinkled at the corners, the tension in his jaw easing for the first time since they'd arrived in this universe. 

"Just stay with me," he urged, tightening his hold on her slightly. Her body fit perfectly against his as if designed as his missing piece. "We're almost there."

"Will you share?" she asked, her voice fading as consciousness began to slip away again. Her eyelids grew heavy, dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks like butterfly wings. "With the others?"

The question caught him off guard, making him falter slightly in his flight. "What?"

"Will you share... me? Can you all... love me?" Each word seemed to cost her tremendous effort, her eyelids growing heavier with each syllable. Her fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his suit, holding on as if afraid he might vanish.

Omni was silent for a long moment, considering. The idea of sharing her with the others—his other selves—went against every possessive instinct he had. His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin as he battled with himself. And yet... if the alternative was losing her entirely...

"Yes," he finally said, the word feeling strange on his tongue. His voice softened as he added, "If that's what you want."

The admission sent an unexpected warmth through him. The knot of tension in his chest—a constant companion since he'd lost his Y/N—loosened slightly. Perhaps sharing her was the only way any of them could truly have her. Perhaps, in this fractured reality, they could find a new kind of wholeness with her.

Their Y/n.

–––––––––––––––

I'm losing motivation for this story (Even though I already had the whole storyboard written out). (っ- ‸ - ς), But I'll PULL THROUGH! Let me know if you guys are interested in more plot and perhaps smut later on in the story. Quite literally, maybe even the next chapter...

I'm really trying to include 'love' for all the variants. let me know if you want another or specific one to be included more.

Lensless Mark = No Goggles Mark

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5

[jsooly]

death in the family (6) / sully family x human!daughter/sister!reader

synopsis, you finally get to the bottom of what eywa was trying to show you. she didn't tell you it'd try to kill you.

!! LINKS ARE INCLUDED FOR REFERENCE! i used these to help visualize so i wanted to include them to help you guys too <3

this is a loooooooong chapter enjoy !

(1) / . . . / (10) / (11*) / (12*- ur here! ☆)

+ chapters with an * beside it means that it’s following atwow plot line as opposed to disconnected scenarios

when did you move from your bed?

the ground cradled you. your figure imprinted into the pillowy dirt and the blades of grass brushed delicately along your cheek, like the great mother's herself was beside you peppering butterfly kisses on your skin. it figured that she was the only one able to lull your restless soul into slumber.

blinking awake, you felt abnormally light. like gravity had been lowered significantly. like the weight of the world had been lifted from your shoulders. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't muster any worry for the state of your family or the dangers that threatened them.

you smiled, squinting as the sun peeked through the holes in the canopy. this is nice. you breathed the fresh air deeply, your lungs expanding slowly. this is nice.

then you focused on the tree before you. the tree of souls, standing proud in all its glory, was calling to you. whispers unheard yet drawing you in all the same.

you cocked your head to the side, thinking this has never happened before. you've visited the tree of souls on more than one occasion, and every time it stood listless.

you pushed yourself off the ground and walked closer.

with each step, the atmosphere grew darker. the only thing constant was the thrumming neon blue and lavender lighting of the tree's long weeping leaves. you stumbled onto the hill it was rooted in, falling through the curtains of neural links and—

listen.

you squinted towards the apex of the tree, overwhelmed by the glittering lighting beating its way through your pupils. huh? the voice you heard was warped, indescribable in terms of tone or pitch, neither coming from your right or left, it was just... there.

follow me and listen.

when did it become nighttime? your bones were growing heavy. a low groan tapered its way off your lips, your head teetering on the edge of dizziness once again. you curled into yourself as the whispers intensified into a crowd's roar—

/

your eyes flew open. you didn't dare to move. seeds of eywa covered your body, surrounding you in a halo of cool lighting. you could feel their presence along the fat of your thigh, back, stomach... they were everywhere. the one beside your cheek caressed you with its tentacles.

your body felt tired. you remained completely still, trying to hold on to the bliss you felt moments ago in your vision. but here the walls were painted grey and your mattress was stiff.

your eyes darted back to the closest woodsprite, the message echoing in your mind. follow me.

"what are you trying to tell me?" you mumbled, your voice still thick with sleep. "to follow you?"

its movement was almost imperceptible.

"fine." you closed your eyes one last time.

at your confirmation, the sprites lifted into the air, floating out the window. one remained, patiently waiting for you to complete your morning routine and grab your tools. you climbed out the window behind it.

the grass was frigid under the soles of your feet as you strolled behind the sprite. your head was still pounding uncomfortably from your psychedelic vision.

you wandered along a familiar route towards the tree of souls. it was sunken into a crater of its own, the bedrock around it hollowing out to give it space to grow. some sprites fluttered past you, descending to take their place back at the epicenter of the great mother's presence.

"okay, here we are." you said, your tone exasperated. the sprite stood still, like an NPC character stuck at the end of its script. without any further instructions, you elected to climb down the cliff towards the tree.

you landed gracefully on the rocky terrain, despite the morning dew making it a bit slippery. the sprite was following you now, it seemed, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

how do you communicate with something you can't connect with? this question has been part of your life since forever and has extended past just the people. forget the language, there was an unspoken energy around you that you weren't built to harness.

though this situation was making you reconsider that fact.

"you brought me here." you hummed, extending your arm to let the bright rods brush over it. "what do you want to show me?"

you weren't completely serious as you spoke into the crisp morning air. if your thoughts were out there, maybe something other than silence would respond to you.

you stood there expectantly for a few minutes. if you didn't get any answers for eywa's confusing persistence, at least you could soothe yourself before you attempted to switch spider's mask.

you sighed, giving your ethereal companion a sheepish look. "i'm sorry, i just don't understand."

you stepped past it, your mind already plotting how far you were from spider's location.

then a cool wind passed over you. your eyes fell to the ground, watching a large shadow zip along.

weird.

you crouched low to the ground, scurrying to the cliff wall and pressing your back tightly to the surface. when you finally looked up, you felt the blood drain from your face.

ikran don't often hang around rocky terrain, not this low to the ground anyway, much less slotsyal. stormgliders.

your eyes snapped to eywa's sprites. they were all buzzing with life, zipping through the air more excitedly than usual. your companion floated under your hand, lifting it up and up and up until you were pointing at the apex predator.

"are you crazy?" you whispered urgently, pulling your hand back and looking at it incredulously. "no, no. i am turning the other way, thank you." you muttered, turning towards the wall and feeling for a good ledge to start your climb.

the sprite brushed along your face, making you splutter and step back out of the shade of the cliff wall. others surrounded you, drifting off and illuminating a path towards the animal.

you glared at all of them. "this is what you want from me? what am i gonna do, make friends with it?"

they floated there, steadfast in their instructions.

you gave it a look. "i will die if i get close. eaten! that's your big plan for me, great mother? really?"

you knew it was her doing. stormgliders never hunt this low to the ground, and they are never around the forest. similar to toruk, they cruise at super high altitudes and only ever descend when they're hungry.

this guy was descending, and you hated to think you were the food.

but if this was eywa's plan, you were a fool to turn away.

you gripped your bow, stringing it expertly as you gave one last glance at the sprites. "i'm listening as you've asked of me." you grumbled stubbornly, like a child complaining to their parent. "but if i die, that's on you."

/

"are you some kind of... freak?" aonung smirked down at kiri, his entourage chuckling behind him.

"he asked if you are a freak." one echoed.

"...no." kiri answered dismissively, walking away. they followed behind her, circling her like vultures.

"are you sure? you're not even real na'vi. look at these hands." aonung continued, swiping at her wrist to prove his point. she pulled back, her eyes narrowed. "i mean, look at them!" he laughed, grabbing her hands and turning them over, as if inspecting something grotesque.

kiri yanked her hands away, her glare sharp as her heart pounded with anger. the sounds of aonung's friends' laughter erupting behind her.

"hey!" lo'ak sauntered up, his expression hardened. he was already pissed off. "back off, fish lips."

"oh, another four fingered freak." aonung teased, a low laugh following as his friends began to pull on lo'ak's tail.

"leave us alone!" kiri pleaded, her voice laced with frustration.

she didn't have to say anything further—neteyam stormed into the scene, grabbing aonung's shoulder and ripping him away from his little brother.

"you heard what she said." neteyam threatened, his voice menacingly calm for the irritation he was feeling inside. "leave them alone."

"ah, big brother comin—"

aonung slapped the back of his hand to his friend, shutting him up without breaking eye contact with neteyam. his mind calculated the risks of stepping toe-to-toe with the foreigner, scanning for weakness.

"no, you're wrong," aonung corrected his friend with a smug look. "he is no big brother. he is the little brother to a demon. a human they've left behind because they are ashamed."

lo'ak lurched forward with an angry growl.

"lo'ak." neteyam snapped and the boy froze, pacing behind the older sully.

"you're gonna let them talk about her like that?"

"aww," aonung cooed, condescension dripping from his tongue. "they say birds flock together. i see the same idea extends to half-blooded demon freaks such as yourself."

neteyam gave lo'ak one more warning look before returning his attention to the metkayina kids. "my family is of no concern to you."

"yes, they are." aonung shot back. "we don't want your contamination. i would respect you, sully, if you didn't bow your head to the human you call your elder sibling."

neteyam exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. aonung had no idea who he was insulting.

"you speak as if you know her. as if you understand what she is." his voice, when it finally came, was low and precise.

he took a slow step forward. "this demon you speak of is our sister, out protector. she bled for us before she had even grew into her own strength. that alone makes her more of a man than you are." his golden eyes burned with something lethal. "we all know she isn't made for this world. that doesn't mean the planet itself hasn't accepted her as she is. she belongs here just like we do."

it made aonung hesitate for a second.

"you would not be standing if she was here. she would've knocked you into the sand without hesitation." neteyam continued, his fists tightening. " but she is not here. i am. and if you bother my family again, i won't think twice about following her example."

aonung paused. then, he raised his hands, that stupid smirk on his lips as he stepped back in surrender.

"smart choice." neteyam hummed, satisfied as he leaned back. "and from now on, i need you to respect my sister." he jabbed a finger in kiri's direction.

one of aonung's friends hissed. kiri responded by sticking out her tongue.

"let's go." neteyam ordered, patting lo'ak's head as he stormed past him.

"bye bye!" one friend sang mockingly, laughing as they turned away.

lo'ak's eyes rolled as he slowed to a stop.

"lo'ak." neteyam warned.

"i got this." lo'ak sweetly reassured him as he walked back to the group. he smiled as he approached them. "i know this hand is funny. but it can do something really cool. watch."

aonung made the mistake of humoring him.

/

at this point, your brain was tired screaming DANGER! the warning bells were going off, and you weren't listening.

the wind underneath the stormglider's wings rustled the leaves and vines of the trees below it. you were currently running for your life.

i knew this was a bad idea i knew this was a bad idea

you squeezed your eyes shut, yelling out in exertion. running in a near constant sprint for almost half an hour straight was not on your agenda today. your arms pumped at your sides, carrying you farther with every step.

the only logical conclusion to eywa's... gift was that you needed to bond with the stormglider. or escape it? but then why would she bring you and light the path towards it?

you were hesitant to accept the message she was clearly sending your way. how? you wanted to yell. how am i going to bond with this gigantic creature?

though juvenile, this slotsyal was much larger than a fully mature ikran. their wingspan was massive, and their barbed tail swinging behind them was the nail in the coffin.

the stormglider thrashed its great wings, carrying it higher and higher in the air.

your heart dropped. that only meant it was rearing to dive down and strike. its venomous tail was too much for the armored fauna of pandora to handle. one touch and you were a goner.

exactly as you predicted, you heard the piercing whistle as the stormglider dived.

holy shit. your mind was in overdrive. every thought occupied your attention for less than a second. a primal need to survive filled your veins and in the next moment you were moving on autopilot—

a screech echoed along the tree trunks as if broke through the canopy. you gripped the weighted lasso tighter, racing out of its line of sight. you scrambled up a tree, leaping down onto its head and slinging the lasso around its beak.

it landed on the ground, tumbling onto its side, wailing as it clumsily flailed its wings to regain balance.

that was the good thing about large animals. the bigger they were, the harder they fell. their size didn't leave much room for agility. get the jump on them and you're already halfway there.

you laughed to yourself as it struggled against your hold. "that's right," you grinned, peering into its eyes. it's pupils dilated upon seeing you. "you're mine."

in a burst of energy, it raised its head, catapulting you into the air. you grunted, gripping onto the lasso that was still binding its beak.

oh great mother, this better be what you intended.

it shot back into the air and it was a miracle you were able to hold on. the vertical ascent allowed you to flatten onto its head. you wrapped your legs around it's neck and clung to the long fin in the middle of its skull.

there was nothing much you could do but hold on your life until it burned out again.

it warbled in pain and you perked up. hurt?

now that it wasn't actively trying to kill you, you noticed that it lacked a neural queue. you knew stormgliders were solo agents, but almost all big animals had a queue. was this one defective? perhaps a mutation down the line?

in an instant, it dropped from the sky, crashing onto the top of a mountain. you were thrown off its head, bouncing on the hard ground with an oof as you teetered off the cliff's edge.

a white hot flash of panic flashed through your body as you clung to the lasso. you pulled yourself up, but you were surprised when the stormglider started to tug you back to safety as well.

you panted heavily, the spike of activity finally registering in your body. you winced. it was painful to stand up.

you stumbled over to the fallen stormglider. it was restless, whining as it slumped over on its side.

"you just had to make it hard for me, huh." you groaned, huffing as you assessed its state. "i guess great mother threw us both for a loop."

as the nausea died down, your vision cleared and you saw it. a clean cut through a portion of its underbelly.

you pursed your lips, already rifling through your kit for supplies to mend it. you walked back to its head, stroking your hand down its side and staring into its blue eyes.

"if i take this off, promise you won't try to eat me?" you proposed. it blinked. you sighed wondering if you were unwrapping your killer or new companion.

you got to work on patching him up. a light drizzle rained down on top of you, but it was a welcome sensation after the heat of the moment.

opposed to the tough top exterior of the slotsyal, its belly was soft and easily patched up by your tools. after plastering some gauze over the wound, you gently pat its ribs before returning to its head.

"truce?" you sighed and sat crisscross beside him.

his beady eyes locked onto you before he nudged your thigh with its snout. you accommodated him, petting the curve of its head gently.

truce.

the pieces were falling into place. since you moved to high camp, you realized how important ikran were in forest na'vi culture. only together can they reach the heights the terrain has to offer. you couldn't visit your family via the helicopters, and now you had your own mount to get there.

you've got to hand it to eywa. she may be mysterious in her ways but she does hear her children's cries and dries their tears.

the light rain subsided as the sun poked out through the clouds.

"huh." you hummed as a rainbow bent its way through the sky. "katir." (rainbow.)

/

lo'ak fucked around and unfortunately, found out.

if it wasn't clear that the metkayina kids were praying on his downfall, it was now.

joke's on them, he thought bitterly. cuz i've got a new friend.

he was having the best time with payakan—the best few hours of his life since moving to awa'atlu.

his laughter echoed across the open waters, tapering off when he saw a large shadow pass over him.

he looked up, covering his eyes with his hands as he tried to make out what was circling above them.

mom? he thought in a panic. oh shit.

then he saw the glint of a tail. he stood there dumbly. wait, ikran don't have pointed tails, do they..?

"lo'ak?!" you screamed above the wind.

"y/n?" his eyes widened.

"katir, no!" you pulled on the your new stormglider friends' ears wrapped around your entire arm, similar to the reins of a horse. "not food!"

with a screech, katir's wings extended. the sharp drop was reduced to a clumsy glide down, the gusts of wind knocking lo'ak off his feet. katir swerved, turning around and landing on a nearby rock. he churred as he shook his wings of the saltwater, bending his head to let you drop onto the ground.

"y/n!" lo'ak's grin was so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn't stop. he slid onto payakan's front fin, signing please, over there!

he arrived as you were chewing katir out.

"if this is gonna work, we've gotta set some ground rules." you scolded him. he huffed and turning his head away from you. "hey, i'm talking to you."

"y/n!" lo'ak screamed in delight, jumping onto the rock and promptly slipping. "wha—what are you doing here?! how are you here?"

you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back to safety. you didn't stop there and pulled him into your arms. he hugged you back readily.

"this is katir," you grinned, walking over to your new friend and patting his head.

lo'ak blinked in disbelief. "i—how?"

"divine intervention." you shrugged. "i don't exactly know either. i had a vision, and eywa's seeds lured me to the area where this guy was lurking around. long story short, we tried to kill each other then reached an understanding."

"bonded?"

you shook your head. "no. he doesn't have a neural queue."

"just like you." lo'ak scrunched his face. "weird."

you hadn't thought of it that way.

"anyway," he shook his head, his beaming smile returning. "this is so crazy! i can't believe you're really here! wait until i tell—"

"wait." you gripped his arms. "you can't tell anyone else. not yet, anyway. i don't fully understand the implications of showing up here."

"what does it matter?" lo'ak scoffed. "we're fine. dad said you could join us anyways."

"when you're settled."

"we are!"

"are you?" you narrowed your eyes. "why are you out here alone?"

lo'ak's jaw snapped shut, his eyes drifting to the side. a look that told you all that you need to know.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you smiled kindly, sitting on the wet rock. he sighed and dropped down beside you.

"they were... being jerks. making fun of kiri and you."

you blinked. "is kiri okay?"

"yeah, she's fine."

"how do they even know about me? i thought dad would keep that under wraps."

lo'ak rolled his eyes, grumbling. "tuk and her big mouth."

you laughed softly. you missed this. you missed complaining about each other. "i assume you got into a fight?"

he nodded.

you smiled and ruffled his head with a smile. "still looking out for me oceans away, huh? thank you, lo'ak."

he got bashful, dropping his head and letting his free strand of hair poorly cover his face. "it's whatever. neteyam jumped 'em too."

you chuckled softly. "you won, no doubt."

"yeah."

"proud of you." you praised him. in the next second, your comm buzzed.

"y/n, they're moving."

lo'ak's ears popped up. "was that—"

"spider? yeah." you pressed your fingers to your choker. "copy." you responded, rising to your feet.

lo'ak's mind was struggling to keep up with all the new information. he was still shocked that you were really standing in front of him. "y/n, what have you been up to?!"

you smiled and pat his shoulder. "keeping kiri's promise. hopefully. and some sabotage."

katir blew a puff of air directly onto your head. you huffed and brushed your hair back into place. "yeah, yeah, i'm coming."

lo'ak stared at you in awe. in the month and a half they've been gone, you've already ascended to another level. or maybe you were always on this level, and only without the watchful umbrella of your father were you able to realize it.

"you can tell the other kids, not mom and dad." you called to him as you jumped onto katir. "make sure tuk doesn't blab, okay?"

"you got it." lo'ak mumbled. "you're... are you gonna come back?" he asked timidly, out of character for a confident guy like himself.

you gave him a tight lipped smile. "yeah."

his grin was the last thing you saw before you yipped, urging katir into the air. with a boom, he lifted off, unfurling his great wings and zooming back to the forest.

/

you stationed katir at a safe distance away from high camp. as a natural predator of ikran and na'vi, you didn't want to risk any mishaps.

before you went to spider, you needed to replenish your stockpile. naturally, the research base you were staying in didn't carry things like arrows and knives. everyone didn't think twice when they saw you rifling around. you were a familiar face, after all.

"y/n."

you squeaked as you whirled around, not expecting anyone to approach you, much less speak to you.

tarsem's eyebrows raised at your reaction, tilting his head as his features settled into an unreadable expression. his lips curled slightly as though amused by your surprised.

"hey." you quickly recovered.

"you are uneasy." he said, gaze sweeping over your fresh bruises and scars from the scuffle with katir earlier. his eyes were tender as they lingered on your injuries, concern threading through his words. "that is unlike you."

"first time for everything." you smiled politely, pocketing more arrowheads.

tarsem's lips twitched into a smile. "i do not remember you showing your discomfort so openly." he observed, curiosity in his tone.

"are you always so attentive with your people?" you hummed, your focus back to the trunk of treasures you were fishing through.

tarsem remained quiet studying you for a moment before he spoke again. "scouts spotted a rouge slotsyal above the plains this morning." he informed you. "be careful when you're out there."

"i wouldn't worry about that," you mumbled without thinking, stilling indistinctly before continuing your search.

"hm?"

"nothing. thanks for letting me know."

he nodded curtly, smile returning as he strolled past you. "you should visit more often." he suggested softly.

you eyed him, caught off guard by the shift in tone. "maybe." you answered truthfully.

your confusion of the interaction was overshadowed by the time crunch. you could review tarsem's conversation later. right now, you had a plan to bring to fruition.

you only prayed the great mother will look out for you in this, too.

. . .

thanks for reading! <3

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @dae-dreamer @delirious-dolce @strawbaerriesvt @avatar-lover @ryiana @lxon-kxnnedy @zukki33 @chalahyung01 @ssc7514 @shmaptainbonky @aureolinb @whosbibi2000 @childishname @nen-nyy @moonchildxoxx @hdjfvnd

© jsooly ‘25

[traveler-at-heart]

Stuck Together - Part 6

Summary: After Westview, Wanda and her children go into hiding. She's not happy with the person in charge of protecting them.

Wanda Maximoff x F! Super Soldier R

A/N: This is a short chapter! There will be another one and that will be it for this series :) Ty all for reading!

A cold hand squeezes your neck, and you know that a normal person would be dead by now.

It isn’t human, that’s very much obvious. Looks like Vision, but you remember him differently. Definitely not all white, with those unsettling blue, void eyes.

“I have to kill you”

“Hey, man, we can work it out. Is it because I kissed Wanda?” you try to joke, holding on to his metal arm, hoping there’s a way he can let you go. The lack of oxygen is blurring your vision, but you have to do something.

You have to protect the kids.

“Wanda. Where is she?” he says in that monotone voice that you always hated.

“Not gonna tell you, you freak” you say. “Kids, run back…”

But he’s squeezing your throat, probably trying to make you speak.

Good luck with that, fucking toaster.

A second later, you drop to the floor, gasping for air. As you look up, there are red threads of magic around the synthezoid.

Wanda.

“You ok, detka?” she says, looking at you.

“Yeah, I guess he got a little too jealous, huh?”

“That’s not Vision” she says, looking away. “Take the kids, get out of here”

“No, you get out of here” you say, standing up. You notice the robot is struggling to break free, Wanda’s hand trembling with the effort of keeping him still.

“I’m the only one that can stop him. And I created this mess”

You recognise the guilt in her voice, the burden of thinking every wrong thing that happens must be some kind of punishment.

But that’s bullshit.

Wanda’s not alone, and you won’t leave her.

“Please leave” she repeats, and you know she read your mind. You shake your head no.

“I’ll buy you some time. Take the car and the kids. Drive as fast as you can. I’ll stop him”

“Ok” she finally nods. She twists her hands, throwing the robot as far as she can. Before she runs, though, she turns to kiss you, holding on to you like it’s the only thing keeping her sane.

“I…”

“I know” you smile, pecking her lips. “See you soon, love”

The kids reach for their mother, and you whistle at Riley.

“Go, fetch!”

Your dog runs back to the shed where you keep all your weapons, and you hope training actually paid off.

As for you, you brace yourself for the return of the robot, who seems to be flying back at full speed. You try to remember the few times that you trained with Vision, kicking yourself over being so dismissive of him.

Truth be told, he never really engaged in hand to hand combat.

So, maybe that’s it. Keeping him close will make it harder for him to fight.

Or easier to get yourself killed.

Well, you’re about to find out.

This time, you are prepared for the hand that reaches for your throat, and you punch it away. He’s faster than you remember, and even if you keep him busy, there are a couple of blows that land, and you feel the air leave your lungs, ribs cracking.

“Riley, hurry up, please” you mutter, grabbing the robot by the cape to hold him back.

In that precise moment, you hear a bark, and turn to find your dog excitedly dragging your old shield. All those frisbee jokes paid off in the end.

“Good girl, I owe you a treat. Now out of here”

Sliding down the pier, you grab the shield, turning around just in time to block one of Vision’s attack. It comes back to you like second nature, throwing and catching the shield while you defend and attack.

He begins to anticipate your movements, and at one point blocks one of your punches, sending the shield flying back.

“Fuck, that hurts”

It’s also been a while since you’ve felt your nose breaking. Last time was probably during training with Steve. That was an accident, but it’s very clear that Vision wants you out of sight.

Cold hands reach for you, throwing you against a tree that snaps in half. Before you can stand up to jump and dodge his next hit, an arrow flies past your head, exploding right in his face.

“Bet you’re happy to see me”

Barton.

“You know what? Hell, yeah” you say, catching the shield when he throws it back to you.

“I got someone on the line for you” he says, throwing you a com as well. You place it in your ear, testing it.

“Y/N?” Maria says, and you adjust the shield in your arm while Clint keeps shooting arrows at Vision.

“Hill”

“Hayward sent Vision. Or not Vision. Whatever he is”

“See? I told you to let me kill him”

“We’re trying to hack into its system, but it might take a while. Can you distract him?” Maria says, and you hear her typing at full speed.

“Fine. Hurry. He’s here to kill us, and he ain’t messing around”

Your point is proven a second later, when he throws a boat your way. Clint manages to shoot an arrow straight to his shoulder, an electrical current going through its system.

Vision falls to the floor, weakened, and you take advantage to throw yourself at him. You fight, Clint unable to shoot an arrow as you’re too close to the robot to have a clean view.

Vision takes advantage of this, using you as a shield when Barton decides to shoot, the arrow going straight through your abdomen.

“Shit, Y/N!” Barton says, hurrying to your side. Vision blocks his path, but you can’t be too concerned with that, not when there’s a freakin arrow coming out of your stomach.

With a grunt, you pull it out, feeling the wound heal as you stand up. Your face is full of bruises, a testament of the synthezoid’s strenght. You bounce your shield against his head, attracting attention back to you so Clint can take some distance and shoot from another spot. Unlike you, he won’t survive hand combat against Vision.

“Clint, I’m running out of ideas” you shout, still fighting.

“And I’m running out of arrows”

Great.

You have so many wounds, cuts and broken bones that it takes longer to heal, and Vision looks fine. He doesn’t have a body, so he is not tired, not even out of breath.

“Maria, status”

But you don’t get to hear her answer, Vision covering his ears and grunting. It seems like she’s finally breaking into his systems.

Or making him more lethal, as he grabs you by the collar of your shirt, flying you to the middle of a mountain. You land in a cloud of dust, face inches away from a cliff.

“Did it work?” Maria asks.

“Nope”

She curses, but you’re starting to realise his system is too advanced to hack into. As you look at the rocks above your head, an idea forms.

“Barton, can you shoot at a spot above me? Anything that causes an explosion”

“Not from here”

“Then find a spot and wait for my signal”

“Are you sure?” he says, folding his bow. He already knows what the plan is.

“No, but we don’t have many choices, do we?”

He sighs, knowing that the plan might work, but you won’t survive it. Though you have been through worse sometimes.

“You don’t have to kill them, you know? They’re kinda your family” you try to distract the robot.

“I don’t have a family. Only a mission”

“Your loss, they are pretty damn cool kids”

Finally, you trap one of his arms with your shield, getting suck in a pile of rocks. You try to make time, waiting for Clint’s confirmation.

“I’m in position”

“Shoot above my head”

“You’ll get trapped too”

“I’ll manage” you grunt, trying to keep Vision from flying. He can escape, but only if you let him. “Barton, I don’t have time! You owe me, for Natasha. So just do as I say”

You don’t wait to hear his answer, panicking when you notice Vision is freeing himself. You jump on his back, locking his head in a tight position. He pushes you both to the edge, and you bring him back to the other side, waiting for the explosion.

That’s when you realise how strong he is. He crushes your arm, but you hold on through the pain, even when tries to twist one of your knees.

Finally, you hear an arrow flying close to your head, and the explosion shakes the mountain a second later. Boulders begin to roll, but you don’t move. One hand is above your head, holding your shield and hoping it’s enough to protect you.

Rocks bury the lower half of Vision’s body, but you can’t let go just yet. It isn’t until you see a giant rock rolling your way that you free him, stumbling backwards.

Something hits your head, blood spiling down your forehead as you jump into the river, hoping the fall won’t kill you.

But you pass out before reaching the water.

—

There are bright lights. A constant, beeping sound. Something in your arm.

Not again.

Your mind begins to race, haunted by the memory of years of torture and betrayal, done by your own government.

But then, there’s quiet. You feel a warm touch in your forehead, the softness making your body relax.

“It’s ok, detka. You’re safe”

Wanda.

You open your eyes, looking around the hospital room.

“Hey, witchy”

“I hate it when you call me that”

“I know” you say with a smile. “But could I possibly get a pass? Seeing as I’m in recovery”

“Sure you can, sweetheart” she says, hand in your forehead.

The way she gives in so easily has you worried. There’s something wrong.

“How are the kids? What happened after?”

“They’re fine. Staying with Clint. I just wanted to make sure you recovered before…”

“Before?”

“Before leaving. It’s for the best”

“Wanda” you try to straighten in the bed, grimacing. “Come on, don’t do this”

“You got hurt because of me. It just… this follows me everywhere I go. Death and chaos. I can’t put your life on the line, I’d never forgive myself”

“Wanda, please” you ignore the pain in your side, stretching your hand, searching for hers.

But she moves further away.

“I’ll be ok. And you’ll be better off without me”

“Wanda” you ask once again, but your eyelids feel heavy. You try to stay awake, even as your body is shutting down, and pretty soon you’re fast asleep again.

You know it’s her doing. She’s keeping you from asking her to stay.

Because she knows she’s not strong enough to say no to you.

[kabuki-writes]

Interlude || The Prize Of A Father's Pride

chapter: 5 chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8

pairing: emperor geta/emperor caracalla x acacius' daughter!reader

summary: General Acacius is forced to tell his daughter, that she will soon marry Emperor Geta and become Empress of Rome - a trade, which saved her life and that of her family, but at what cost?

warning(s): angrsty themes | semi-edited | english is not my first language, faults may occur | please let me know if i missed anything

Note: We already reached chapter 5 !?!??! Hell, yes! And we're getting further and further. So before this whole plot picks up a little more speed, i thought a small interlude feat. Acacius would be a nice little treat. The next chapter is going to be longer again.

word count: 1.7k

You stood in the archways that led to the inner garden of your family's home. The curtain of the night had already laid itself upon the sky, when you'd reached it, the haunting grin of Caracalla and the words about your father were still on your mind. He had given you no answer on why you should thank the General, and it didn't sound like it was even something to thank him for either. It was more like whatever it was it was about to benefit the Emperors. Yet you knew your father and despite him never speaking it out loud - you've noticed how much he despised the royal twins.

The night was quiet and the villa was softly illuminated by the torches, which the slaves always lit up as soon as dawn came. Your mother knew about your whereabouts, that you went off to the theater with your friends Cicero and Lydia, nothing out of the ordinary. That you met the Emperor Caracalla during your night out was neither planned nor hoped for and yet the time you'd spend alongside him in the royal box still lingered in your head. Should you tell your parents? Maybe it was best to keep it in the shadows, as you didn't want them to worry more than necessary about you.

But when you approached the garden, you heard the quiet sobbing of your dear mother from the distance. You were on your way to your rooms, yet you couldn't ignore something like this, so you stopped beside a pillar and looked down to the inner courtyard with its beautiful pond and the many plants that provided shade during the summer months. You saw between the palm trees, cedars and bushes how your mother kneeled in front of your father, while he hold her in his arms as if something terrible happened - as if someone died.

You were not able to stand it any longer without knowing what happenes, so you stepped out and made yourself noticable.

"Mother? Father? What happened?", you asked quickly, but when Acacius raised his head to look into your direction, there was nothing but pain and suffering in his eyes. The way his eyes were locked on you made your heart sink down to your feet as it was crystal clear that it might have something to do with you. "y/n...", he began, but got disrupted by the sobbing of your mother. "Tell her, Acacius! Please, you need to tell her!"

It broke your heart to see your mother in that state, huddled together and in tears. But what was even worse was the news your father would tell you right in that very moment: "y/n, you... i am sorry," he started and clearly struggled to find the right words. You've never seen your father like this. "I gave my consent to a marriage between you and Emperor Geta."

Your eyes widened and your face went pale in an instant as you froze in your position. "What do you mean?", the trembling words fell from your lips. A marriage?!

"You will marry the Emperor," Acacius repeated, his voice clear but racked with pain. And after a couple of long minutes it finally hit you like an arrow right into the heart. Your breath becme quicker and you had to sit down on one of the stone benches. In this moment you were not even able to bare the sight of your parents, while the realization kicked in. No tears came from your eyes, in fact, it even surprised your own father how you took the news. But the depiction of stoicism came at a high cost, as you clearly had to fight within you against the urge to just scream.

And your father knew that. He knew you better than anyone, you were always his sun and stars, the one person beside his wife to which he tried to come back every single time when he went off to war. Slowly your mother came back to her feet with the help of her husband, but her usual soft face was covered in tears and her eyes were swollen and red as she looked at you. "What have you done, my love... ? You need to be honest with y/n, please... i beg you. She needs to know," she whispered with an urgency in her voice and even a small amount of anger.

Your eyes ripped themselves from the pond in front of you, staring at your father, who looked at you like a broken man. "He threatened to kill you and your mother, it was the only option... trust me, i would've never agreed to it otherwise. May the gods damn me for my pride, that i thought i would be able to put them down together with the senate. It was a plan that is nothing more than dust and ashes now." Acacius rushed to you and took your hands into his, pressing them tightly as if he feared you would fade away if he didn't. "I can never forgive myself to put you into a position like that, y/n," he whispered, and for the very first time, you witnessed the fear in your father's eyes. And he feared for you.

But all those words disappeared in your ears, as you tried desperately to numb the anxiety within you. Now the words that Caracalla said to you made sense and they echoed in your head once more. Nonetheless how could you hate your father for this? You knew he did it for the sake of the people, he always fought for Rome and never for himself. This was the way he was and you would've never wanted it to be otherwise. Yet you were now the one to bear the consequences of your father's actions, a sacrifice. For the first time in your life, you were the one to protect this family... and you wanted to take this risk. Not that there was an option anyways.

So you took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in your throat, while you stood up from the bench and looked your father right into his eyes. "There is nothing we can do about it, don't we? The die is cast and we have to live with the consequences," you said, even though your voice was cracking for a moment before you took one hand of your mother and one of your father, pressing them gentle and in a reassuring way, even though you still saw how much they suffered. You were their only daughter after all and even if it wouldn't be the Emperor, a marriage always called for a daughter to leave her parents behind. "Please... i don't want you to look at me like i am already dead", you whispered with a hint of desperation as it hurt you even more that your own parents still treated you like they had to protect you from this world. If fate wanted this to happen, then you would find your way through it.

"I will marry him. If that will save my own life and yours then be it", you said again, while ran down your mothers cheeks once again as she hold your hand in ache. She said your name before her voice stopped. But in that very moment, your father stepped in and pulled you into a tight hug, holding you for a long moment that felt like an eternity. Acacius blamed himself entirely for all that was happening and in this very moment, he promised to himself that he will find a way to get you out of this situation. There was still hope, if he was able to be careful enough.

"You're my daughter, y/n... i know you will not lose yourself in this, i know it...and i will always be proud of you, no matter what...", he mumbled in reassurance, trying desperately to fullfill your wish not to treat all of this as it was your clear funeral. That wouldn't be right, he knew that too. You would live on, but at what cost?

"How much time do i have left?", you suddenly asked, while you slowly removed yourself from your father's arms. Right now the whole situation was still so unreal for you, even though you knew this will change soon enough. The brows of your father furrowed as he took your mother's hand to hold her and give her something of the strength he'd recovered - at least a bit. "Sadly Emperor Geta made sure not to waste any time with this: He expects the stipulatio (engagement promise) tomorrow, a celebration will happen at the palace to announce it publicly... and then the formal wedding will take place in two weeks, still in Juno to avoid that bad luck falls onto your union."

"As if the gods would grant him luck with a forced marriage like this," your mother mumbled, while she tried her best to wipe away her tears and regain her posture. "There are not even enough sheep in all of Rome that he could sacrifice for this..." She was still pale like a corpse due to this news, but at least she was able to regain her anger again despite the helplessness.

Your fingers buried themselves into the fabric of your pale blue toga as you recollected your thoughts. There was no time left, no real time. But did you expect it to be otherwise? In a way, a lot of women would envy you for this opportunity. Marrying an Emperor meant that you would rise up to be an Empress alongside a God, nothing was more noble and meaningful. Men fought wars to earn power and honor, women needed to take a different path in this world, marrying and bearing children - only to be sidelined by history nonetheless. You didn't want to face the same fate. And in the end you were still your father's daughter through and through, carrying the family name like a ritiualistic armor.

“Whatever anyone does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour," you whispered a quote and your father instantly got it. With an understanding nod, a weak smile appeared on his lips.

"Marcus Aurelius...", Acacius noticed right away as it was a quote from his 'meditations' which your father had given you to read. It helped you now more than ever and the same could've been said about Acacius as well.

_________________________________

Tags:

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[starmapz]

what you know - ch7: yuletide || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 11.2k.

❦ a/n ; happy holidays to those who celebrate! this was originally intended to be a little bonus chapter but as you can see, it kinda got away from me LOL. so i hope you enjoy <3

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

“Kunaaaaaaaa!”

Walking back from Choso’s friend’s house, Sukuna inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m right here, quit yelling, brat.”

“You’re not listening though!” Yuji pouts, tugging at his arm until he kneels down.

And god, Sukuna’s head pounds the moment he’s lowered himself down to his little brother’s height. His mind is practically screaming at him, begging him to lay down in the dark and sleep just a little bit longer.

With a sigh, Sukuna rubs at his temple. “What, Yu?”

“Cho’s friend said they’re having a big, big Christmas dinner with turkey and stuffing and veggies and- and- potatoes, and they have a big tree and decorations and they have family traveling to see them-”

Sukuna lowers his hand from his head slowly, eyes narrowed in an attempt to fend off the effects of his hangover following his night of drinking, partying, and chicken fingers as he listens to Yuji go on about the holidays.

Christmas.

Aside from saving a bit of extra money to get gifts, Sukuna hasn’t exactly had the luxury of stopping to think much about it. He supposes he could have, and probably should have focused on that yesterday rather than going to Gojo’s party, but he needed a night to himself more than ever before with the lawsuit weighing down heavily on his shoulders.

He’s not thrilled that in his drunken stupor he dragged you into the fray of his issues with his step-mother, if Sukuna even dared grace her with such a name, but somehow it doesn’t seem quite as dire with you on his side.

“Seeeeeeee!” Yuji groans, catching Sukuna lost in thought. “You’re not listeningggg!”

His jaw tightens. “I’m listening,” he grumbles, gritting his teeth as he drags his palm over his face.

He casts a glance at Choso, who’s blankly staring at the exchange between his older and younger brothers, and Sukuna wonders if the twelve-year-old is worrying about him right now. He wonders if this is one of those moments that his own kid brother is contemplating his well-being.

With a pang in his heart, he grimaces and gives Yuji his full attention. “You wanna have a big Christmas?”

Yuji nods eagerly. Swallowing hard, Sukuna prays he can provide that and not dull the light behind his eyes. The reality is that no matter what he does, there won’t be a big extended family, or a turkey, or even a big tree. The most he can manage is a small tree, a couple of friends, and some decorations from the dollar store.

Yuji isn’t old enough to remember the holidays with their dad, and his mom was gone so soon after he was born that Sukuna doubts he remembers her at all, let alone a holiday with her. Choso surely remembers both, though during their first holiday as just the three of them, Sukuna destroyed the illusion of holiday merriment and the joys of waking up on Christmas morning to gifts from Santa.

It wasn’t on purpose, but he had no clue what he was doing. He wasn’t in a good place mentally, nor did he have the money for much more than a hoodie Choso had wanted. The closest thing they’d had to a Christmas that year was Uraume surprising them by coming over and cooking dinner. Since then, it’s become tradition. Uraume never expects a gift in return for cooking a full Christmas dinner and even leaving the leftovers, but Sukuna makes an effort regardless to return the favor.

With a huff, Sukuna stands at his full height, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he gives in to his little brother’s request. That’s how he finds himself pushing a cart through the dollar store with his brothers in tow and a mean hangover that seems to have no intention of relenting anytime soon as the sterile white lighting beats down on him.

“What about these?” Choso holds up a stack of Christmas plates and napkins.

With a glance at the price, Sukuna mutters a ‘sure’, only because nodding makes his head absolutely ache.

Leaning over the cart, Sukuna watches Choso grab reasonable items, while Yuji shovels anything and everything he can into the cart.

“No,” Sukuna mutters each time a plush, massive wreath, or Christmas themed cookies make their way into the cart.

“Kuna, can we pleeeaaase at least get these?” He begs, holding up a pair of light-up antlers. He clicks a button on the ears, causing the lights to flash.

“No, Yu. Put ‘em back.”

Yuji pouts, staring down at them in his hands as he fiddles with the fabric of the ears. The little boy glances back up at Sukuna with wide, glassy eyes and sure enough, his resolve crumbles.

“Fine. Grab a pair for Cho, too.”

Yuji parades around the cart with a series of ‘yay’s and ‘thank you’s, and even Choso’s eyes light up as Sukuna leans further over the cart until the wheels are squeaking in an effort to support his weight.

The aisle is a blur of pink hair as Yuji bounces around the decorations, lips pursing into a big ‘o’ as he points at a small Christmas tree with lights strung around it. With a yawn, Sukuna mildly watches as Choso tries to talk the pink-haired child down from the tree that’s on the more expensive side for the dollar store, but even his eyes go wide with wonder as Sukuna reaches over them and sets it in the cart.

Remember when everything at the dollar store used to actually cost a dollar? Sukuna certainly does.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sukuna sighs, leading the way towards the exit as Yuji talks his ear off about how he wants to watch Christmas movies. As he goes on about how he’s never seen Home Alone, Sukuna watches the cashier scan their items, his brow furrowing as he sees Choso pull a Santa hat out from the pile in the cart. “No,” he scolds, holding his hand out to his brother expectantly.

Usually the reasonable of the two kids, Sukuna simply raises a brow when Choso continues his motions, placing a second Santa hat on the counter. The poor employee has paused with an uncertain expression, taking note of the debate going on between the two siblings.

“Choso,” Sukuna growls, holding his hand out more expectantly.

The boy grabs a third Santa hat, placing it on the counter as well.

“Choso,” Sukuna hisses, reaching forward to grab the hats off the counter but the little boy snatches them away first.

“Please, Kuna.”

“No. Antlers or hats, not both.”

Yuji grabs his brother’s hand in solidarity, pouting up at Sukuna.

“No, brat. That won’t work twice.” Losing patience, Sukuna pulls out his card, silently threatening to pay and leave if they don’t choose.

“Kuna, please. I won’t ask for anything else,” Choso pleads.

He falters, his thumb running over the chip on his card as he shoots the dark-haired Itadori a glance from his peripherals. Why the hell does he want these hats so bad? He’s not sure he understands, but the extra few dollars won’t kill him, and if he’s being honest, there’s another reason behind his sudden leniency with the two kids.

There’s a small nagging thought in the back of his mind that this might be his last holiday with the brothers. It’s not something he wants to consider, not when he thinks his guardianship for the last three years over the two of them should count for something in court, but he can’t deny the feeling of unease that has him giving in to another request.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, using his spare hand to massage between his brows in an effort to dull his headache. “Fine.”

Yuji cheers happily as all three hats flop onto the counter. The cashier shoots an uncertain glance at Sukuna, who scowls down at the hats at the realization that there’s three of them, which means one’s for him, but he keeps his mouth shut as they scan the last of the items.

With a tap of his card, he tucks it back into his wallet, handing each of his brothers some small, lighter bags, while he grabs the tree.

The walk back to the apartment is grueling between the excited ramblings of Yuji, the overcast sun assaulting Sukuna’s hungover senses and the melting snow that’s giving way to a particularly icy sidewalk. How convenient.

Finally reaching their apartment, Sukuna lobs the tree down on the ground and unceremoniously tosses himself over the couch. At his height, his legs dangle over the edge of the couch, but it’s such a relief to lay down that it feels comfier than ever. He drapes his arm over his eyes to shield himself from the natural light flooding in through the windows as his brothers take it upon themselves to decorate the apartment.

He must have drifted off, because the feeling of Yuji tugging on his hoodie jolts him awake very suddenly. Dazed, he drags his hands over his face harshly before cracking his eyes open. His headache has dulled enough that he can function without the sharp pain of a pounding head, but he could definitely have used some more sleep.

“Will Rume be here this year?” Yuji asks as he tugs at Sukuna’s hood.

“Christ, brat, you’re gonna choke me,” Sukuna gruffs, pulling the collar of his hoodie back down. “Yeah, they’ll be here,” he confirms, carding a hand through his hair. Much like Sukuna, Yuji hasn’t quite gotten Uraume’s name down, but they’ve never seemed to mind.

Yuji bounds off with tinsel in-hand, tossing the glittery strands of foil over a kitchen chair. With a yawn, Sukuna sits up and takes a look around. “Oh, fuck me,” he mutters under his breath as he realizes that the apartment is no longer just overrun with beaded lizards, but there’s now tinsel strung up on every surface that the two boys could reach. The apartment practically looks like a craft store threw up in it.

A muscle in his jaw ticks as he stares at the absolute fire hazard that the stove is looking like right now and he sighs, pushing himself to his feet to get his laptop. The two kids go barreling past him in a fit of laughter, nearly bowling him over if he weren’t so steady on his feet.

“Hey. Hey! No tinsel on the stove, you two know better!” Sukuna barks. They don’t even cast him so much as a glance, but Sukuna can’t be bothered to deal with the issue himself right now. Flopping down on his bed, he leans against his headboard and opens his email.

He scarcely remembers letting you know he got home last night as you’d requested, having passed out shortly after sending the email, but he’s somewhat surprised to find that the timestamp from your email is from late last night as well. You must have stayed awake until he emailed to make sure he was safe. Something stirs in his stomach at the thought, but he quickly pushes it aside.

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Saturday, 2:42 AM

Good to hear, Kuna! Get some sleep, thanks for the ice cream!! :)

He lets out a breath of relief at seeing you type his nickname, thanking any god that will listen that you aren’t upset with him anymore. Especially with how much he’d fumbled his shitty apology, completely ill-prepared and inebriated. Even sober, he doesn’t think he would have been prepared, but drunk and high? It’s a miracle he pulled it off at all.

“Kuna?”

Sukuna peers over his laptop to the doorway, his usual disinterested stare falling on a head of messy pink hair. He doesn’t respond, but Yuji knows he has his brother’s attention as crimson eyes look over his hopeful expression.

“The stove is clean.”

“Good.”

“Sorry,” Yuji fiddles guiltily with the hem of his Sonic the Hedgehog shirt. 

Sukuna hums in acknowledgement.

Yuji continues to fiddle with his shirt before hopefully asking if Sukuna is inviting you to Christmas dinner. His eyes are wide and full of optimism as he takes a step towards Sukuna.

“She’s probably spendin’ Christmas with her family,” he replies mildly, reaching up to scratch his jaw.

“But we do dinner on Christmas Eve anyway,” he points out, a tradition started to make sure they could include Uraume.

Sukuna sighs, clicking on the reply button to your email as he mutters out a “fine.” Yuji jogs over to him and leaps up onto Sukuna’s bed, crawling to his side to watch as he types out an email to you. Sukuna huffs, grimacing at his little brother before typing out a message to you.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Saturday, 1:08 PM

got christmas plans?

“That’s it?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong with that?” He grumbles, the full pain of his headache beginning to return at the judgment from the five-year-old.

“Ask her to come over!” Yuji insists.

Frowning, Sukuna playfully shoves Yuji’s face away from his screen. “Go finish decorating with your brother,” he huffs, watching the giggly kid hop off the bed with a bright expression. “If, and I mean if she’s free, I’ll ask. Got it?”

Yuji nods, running towards the door excitedly before pausing. “Oh! Can we also invite-”

Sukuna sighs as he begins rattling off a couple of Choso’s friends, as well as his own from Kindergarten.

He’s definitely in over his head this year.

–

With one final piece of tape, you secure a red ribbon over a small green box, setting it alongside two bigger, more slender boxes. One for Sukuna, and one for each of the boys.

Piling the gifts into a bag, you set them at the door and finish getting ready.

Your holiday plans had gone very quickly from a video call with your family and a cozy movie night alone with your laptop to a brunch with Suguru’s family, a dinner with Satoru’s, and dinner with Sukuna and the boys. Of course you appreciate Satoru and Suguru for making an effort to include you, but there’s something deeper to the idea of having Christmas dinner with Sukuna that you can’t deny.

Over the past week, you had helped pick up the kids from school a couple of times, so Sukuna had presented this as a way of ‘paying you back’, but your conversations with his little brothers had you thinking there was more to this than just paying you back. Yuji talked non-stop about Christmas movies and a big dinner and how he was beyond excited for the big day. Sukuna seemed tired at the mere concept, but Yuji was adamant that you had to be a part of it, and there’s no world where you’re willing to let down the sweet little boy.

Picking the kids up from school had also given you the opportunity to scheme with Choso about Sukuna’s gift and you’re pretty sure you nailed it.

With a final once-over of your outfit, you nod to yourself in the mirror. A cute red wool Christmas sweater hangs over your frame decorated in stitches that form the shape of reindeer and snowflakes, with a pair of black leggings adorning your legs. You make your way to the door and pull on a pair of knee-high heeled boots to complete the look, pleased with the cute and festive outfit.

When you arrive at Sukuna’s door with some fresh-baked Christmas cookies (those cute Snowman ones from Pillsbury that are to die for), and the gifts for all three brothers tucked into a bag hanging around your arm, you hit the button for their intercom and wait for a response. After a few rings, the buzzer seems to die and the door doesn’t budge. Blinking a few times, you pull out your phone to check you have the right date and time.

December 24th, 3:00 PM.

With a furrowed brow, you juggle the cookies and gifts to hit the buzzer again. Maybe they just didn’t hear it. It rings once, twice, three, four times, and you’re sure it’s about to die when static sounds over the speaker and excited screams can be heard. Not unusual, but it sounds much more chaotic than usual.

“Hello?” Choso’s voice finally sounds in the brisk afternoon winter air.

“Hey Cho, it’s me!”

He doesn’t reply, but the door buzzes as it unlocks for you to make your way up. Before you can knock, Choso pulls the door open for you with a toothy smile, his cheeks rosy.

“Hey, Cho!” You grin and take your boots off as he closes the door behind you and adjusts his absolutely adorable reindeer antlers with sparkling red and green LEDs.

You’ve hardly taken a step into the apartment when the madness of the apartment hits you, quite literally.

Yuji barrels into your leg in a hug, matching antlers to Choso’s adorning his head as he giggles and grins at you. “Merry Christmas!” He cheers, tugging you further into the apartment as you set down your gifts and cookies at the door.

Tinsel is spread across every surface below waist-level, which makes you think the boys did most of the decorating, while a small tree sits on the floor near the TV, lit with sparkling red and green lights. Garland is spread across light fixtures and the warm glow of colorful fairy lights illuminates the dining room. You hadn’t taken Sukuna as the type to decorate to the nines, but it’s heartwarming to see just how much cheer and spirit is spread throughout the otherwise fairly dark apartment.

The real shock as you’re pulled into the living space, is the sheer amount of people all crammed into the living room. Mostly kids between Yuji and Choso’s ages, and one other person who seems to be around the same age as you with snowy white hair, while Sukuna sits on the floor. Displeasure twists his every feature as his youngest brother runs back up to him and a girl around his age with short brown hair. The little boy takes a string of red garland from the girl, clambering over the tattooed man as he strings it up around his broad shoulders. A couple of boys chuckle at the sight of Sukuna decorated like a Christmas tree from where they sit playing MarioKart.

Sukuna grinds his teeth, his jaw clenched as he just barely manages to tolerate his little brother’s antics. You giggle at the sight, pulling out your phone to snap a photo of the sweet interaction, catching Sukuna’s attention finally.

“Don’t,” he hisses at you, fists clenching at his sides.

Biting your lip to conceal your smile, you hold your phone up to him, snapping a photo just in time before Sukuna’s pushing off the ground suddenly. The action of his chest and shoulders rising pulls the garland taut before it splits under the tension, falling from his frame to the dismay of the kids.

Holding your phone tight to your chest, you gasp playfully at the realization that Sukuna’s darting towards you, intent on deleting the photo. You duck quickly away from him, unable to hide your smile as you slide into the dining room where Choso and a couple of friends seem to be playing with Pokemon cards.

“Delete it,” Sukuna growls as he closes the distance between you in a few short strides. An unceremonious squeak parts your lips as he catches up to you and slips a strong arm around your middle, using his other hand to reach for your phone and hold it up to you. You push against him, but he’s not budging even an inch. The feeling of his chiseled abs pressing against your back is dizzying, and you almost forget why he has you tucked into his warmth, until he hisses out another “delete it, brat.”

“It’s so cute!” You protest, wriggling against him in an attempt to slip from his grasp.

Sukuna falters for a split second, swallowing hard as your endeavors to escape from him has your ass brushing against him just right and he prays you don’t feel his body involuntarily reacting to you as his cock twitches in his jeans. Blinking, he scrambles to think about something unpleasant to counteract the thoughts beginning to race through his mind. You twist in his grasp, and he’s reminded of what he’s doing in the first place, pulled back to the present. “It’s not fucking cute. Delete it.”

“It’ll be a good memory for Yuji and Choso!” You insist, putting your full weight against Sukuna’s arm that has you caged against him. He doesn’t move a muscle, not needing to so much as tense to keep you up, he’s just that strong.

His brow furrows as he considers your words, finally huffing as he releases you. With your full weight being supported by him just seconds ago, you barely manage to catch yourself before you go tumbling to the floor, grinning triumphantly when you find your footing.

“If that sees the light of day, I ain’t joining you for lunch anymore,” Sukuna grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

Standing up straight once more, you tilt your head innocently up at him. “It won’t,” you promise, tucking your phone into a pocket on the side of your leggings.

With a frown, Sukuna rounds the couch and takes a seat beside his friend with white hair cut into a bob. You follow after him, plopping down on his other side. He states your name, casting a glance between you and them. “This is Uraume,” he tells you.

Your eyes light up with recognition, grinning as you wave politely.

They return your wave with a kind smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” they comment with a knowing look to Sukuna that he shoots down with a scornful frown. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!” You grin, happy to finally be able to meet one of Sukuna’s friends. He’s slowly allowing you further into his little world, giving you a piece of him that very few get to see. Though, looking back at the door where your bag of gifts resides, it occurs to you that you had no idea there would be seven kids and three adults here, and you haven’t brought nearly enough for everyone. “Had I known you would be here, I would have brought you something for the holidays,” you comment sheepishly.

“Did Yuji not tell you?” Sukuna arches a brow questioningly as he leans back into the couch.

You shake your head. “No, was he supposed to?” You cast a glance at the little boy wrapping the torn garland around his friend, the two giggling up a storm.

Sukuna sighs. “I figured he would have, the kid wouldn’t shut up about today and Uraume’s been a part of our holidays for a few years now.”

“It’s fine, anyway!” They pipe in, shaking their head. “I don’t need a gift and I certainly wasn’t expecting one.”

“And don’t worry about the kids. They’re all headin’ out for their own dinners soon, but Yu wanted a big Christmas this year, so…” Sukuna trails off, his gaze flitting between both brothers. You know what’s going through his mind, you can see the hollow distance resurfacing in his eyes as his mind grapples with the idea of this being their last Christmas together.

But you aren’t about to let him give up without a fight, so you snap him back to the present with a prod to his shoulder. “So, what are you cooking?”

“I’m not,” Sukuna replies, casting a glance at Uraume, who explains that every year their gift to Sukuna and the boys is a full Christmas dinner, though they replace the turkey with chicken given that they’re in college and that’s one pricey bird.

The afternoon carries on with excited laughter from the kids while you and Uraume learn about one another, while also poking fun at Sukuna, who’s relatively quiet as usual. The kids’ parents slowly begin to pick them up over the course of the evening, and Uraume occupies themself with cooking as the sun sets over the horizon. A merry glow casts over the apartment as fairy and holiday lights shine over the tinsel and shimmer along the walls.

Though not exactly Christmassy, you can also see what Sukuna meant at Gojo’s party when he mentioned his house was overrun with bead lizards. They seem to be strewn across nearly every surface as well, with tinsel tied to them like a second tail.

As the last of the kids file out, Yuji and Choso turn to the Gamecube that Sukuna has long forgotten is yours. You prefer it this way anyway, for it to get some use from the kids than to rot in your storage.

“Have you spoken to, uh, Kento?” Sukuna asks curiously over the sounds of clanking pots and utensils and video game music.

You nod. “He’s willing to help. He has something for me from my parents anyway, so he said we can meet at a cafe when he gets back and he’ll have his friend tag along.”

Sukuna raises a brow. “Does he know he’s doing me a favor, not you?”

“He does!”

“I’m sure he was thrilled to hear it,” Sukuna grumbles, slumping into the couch with his arms crossed over his chest as he stares blankly at the little tree on the floor. His gifts to the kids sit on the floor, nearly blocking the tree itself given its small stature.

“He’ll come around,” you assure him. “He hasn’t really had a chance to get to know you.”

Sukuna hums, his gaze remaining trained on the little Christmas tree. “He’s from your hometown?”

You nod. “Him and Haibara.”

“Mm.” Sukuna drums his fingers over his bicep. “Why didn’t you go home with them?”

With a tight-lipped smile, you join him in staring at the Christmas tree, suddenly finding its intrigue. “I couldn’t afford to.”

Crimson irises tear away from the tree to take in your bittersweet expression. He knows that feeling all-too-well, but it’s never occurred to him that it could be a sentiment you would share. He’s never made any assumptions that you’re rich, and although he has no clue how much or little it costs for you to get home, he did assume that wouldn’t stop you from spending Christmas with your family.

“Mm.” He supposes maybe you aren’t as different as he once thought. Perhaps you aren’t from different worlds, but rather two sides of the same coin. “‘M sorry.”

You turn your attention to him, your usual cheerful expression taking over again. Always looking on the bright side, like a ray of sunshine that seems to find its way through Sukuna’s darkness to light up his life.

He’s only known you for a couple of months, but he wonders when you became such a staple in his life, one that brings warmth to an otherwise cold and hardened man.

“It’s fine,” you assure him. “There’s always next year.” Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you regard the two boys playing Mario Party. “It’s nice to be here, anyway.”

Sukuna follows your gaze, his eyes befalling a game of Mario Party nearing the end that he fears will also end in tears if he knows anything about that game. He blinks a couple of times, taking in the thought that this is the first time in a while that his house has been so filled with life.

One year after another his holidays had diminished in size, beginning with the kids’ mother moving for a job, followed shortly by his father passing away. Along with the passing of his father, Sukuna’s mental health had followed, and what resulted was a Christmas so hollow that he struggles to remember that year, hidden deep within the carefully guarded recesses of his mind.

Yet when he needed them most, Uraume had made their way into his life and bit by bit, they had helped him pick up the pieces and find his footing. Just when he needed you most, you found your way into his life as well, though you were little more than the source of his disdain at first. He considers himself lucky that you’re so resilient when it comes to his snide demeanor, because for the first time in a long time, something occurs to Sukuna.

You and Uraume may not fill the same roles that having parents would have, but you’re both important figures in the kids’ lives and they need the positivity that you bring that Sukuna doesn’t provide. He’s aware he isn’t the best influence for two impressionable young kids, something that he wrestles with daily, but one reassurance remains a beacon when he finds himself doubting his abilities.

Your declaration that he’s their hero.

He’d never considered it before, but he sees it in the way Choso worries for him and understands, even at such a young age, that Sukuna is struggling. He sees it in the way Yuji runs to him to show him the latest basketball trick he’s learned.

So he’s gotta be doing something right.

After an extended silence, Sukuna finally finds the footing to reply to you. “We’re glad to have ya, princess.”

Uraume begins setting out dishes, requesting help as they work on the dinner’s finishing touches. The three of you work together to set the table, complete with a little candle in the center as the smell of chicken floods the apartment.

You narrowly avoid a meltdown by the looks of it as Choso is winning Mario Party by a landslide when Sukuna calls them over, asking them to shut off the TV for the night. Bounding to the table, you let the kids pile their plates high with chicken, stuffing, and potatoes, both completely avoiding anything that so much as touched vegetables. With a scowl, Sukuna reaches over to scoop some veggies onto their plates, met with a guilty frown from Choso and a groan from Yuji.

Once their plates are full, Sukuna insists that you and Uraume go first before he loads up his own plate with enough food to feed a whole family. You can only imagine what the grocery bill looks like for two growing boys and the wall of muscle that is Sukuna.

“This is all amazing, Uraume.”

They grin at your compliment, a warm blush dusting their cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Where’d you learn to cook? I know you’re in the history program with Sukuna, but I’d believe you if you said you were in the culinary program,” you continue, reveling in the flavor of the potatoes.

The shade of their reddened cheeks darkens and they chuckle lightly. “I appreciate that, but I’ll leave the culinary degree to Choso,” they smile, casting a glance at the little boy whose eyes sparkle at the mention of a culinary degree. You suppose that explains why he loves to follow you around in the kitchen so much. “I’m self-taught. I learned during our first year when I got sick of ramen and eating out.”

“I wish I had that same dedication,” you giggle, shaking your head as you go on to mention that the amount of times you’ve had eggs this week should be criminal.

Sukuna shoves his face full of food as he quietly listens to you and Uraume chat, while Yuji chimes in every so often. He can’t remember the last time he had a meal that wasn’t takeout or something he cooked mainly for the boys, who could be a bit picky, which often meant he was having the same few meals with a protein smoothie to tide him over. Apart from the leftover mac and cheese you cooked a little while ago, he thinks the last time might have been a full year ago to the day.

He doesn’t even notice that he’s smiling until you nudge him. “Doing alright, Kuna?”

He raises a brow questioningly, his mouth full of potatoes.

You smile, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it. How’s your dinner?” You decide not to push him, your heart full when his expression eases as he sits up, leaning back in a relaxed manner.

“Fuckin’ great,” he mumbles through a bite of chicken, going back in for more immediately.

“How many times have I told you to stop swearing in front of your brothers?” Uraume scolds, a playful air to their words.

Sukuna huffs, rolling his eyes. “If I start countin’ how many times you tell me not to swear or smoke, we’ll be here all day.”

“They have a point,” you poke fun at him with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas, get off my case,” he grumbles, leaning over the table.

“Quitting smoking would be a suitable Christmas gift for me, you know,” Uraume points out with a mischievous grin.

“Your gift,” Sukuna growls, no real bite to his words as he points his fork at them, “is learnin’ how to drive. Take it or leave it.” He shoves the piece of chicken into his mouth with a scowl in their direction, grunting when Uraume laughs.

“I suppose I’ll take the driving lessons,” they sigh humorously as though they’re settling.

Sukuna’s narrowed eyes are met with laughter from the table as conversation flows naturally throughout dinner. By the end of the meal, Yuji is practically vibrating with excitement as he casts glances towards the tree where a few wrapped gifts are sitting. Even Choso seems a bit restless, shifting constantly between sitting cross-legged on his chair and kicking his feet.

The moment Sukuna’s second plate of food is clean, Yuji pipes in. “Can we open presents?”

“Let me clean up, Yu,” Sukuna sighs, pushing his hair back from his forehead. It seems a moment’s rest is too much to ask for with two eager kids awaiting presents. Splaying his hands on the table, Sukuna pushes himself to his feet, piling all of the plates onto one to carry to the kitchen.

You gather empty glasses and follow after Sukuna, setting the dishes on the counter.

“Go sit,” Sukuna mumbles without casting you a glance as he rinses off plates and loads them into the dishwasher.

“I don’t mind, really!” You insist, bounding back to the table to grab the leftover potatoes. When you spin around, you’re met with Sukuna’s chest, startling at his close proximity. He pulls the bowl of potatoes from your hand, smirking as you purse your lips.

“Sit.” With his spare hand, he presses down on your shoulder until you’re back in your seat.

Uraume stifles a laugh, exchanging a glance with you as your cheeks warm. “Every year, I cook and he cleans up afterwards,” they explain. Clearly, he intends to keep it that way, giving you a chance to get to know Uraume better.

“How long have you known each other?” You ask as Sukuna continues to clean up, gathering the leftover food into tupperware to keep in the fridge while the two kids talk amongst themselves.

They tilt their head in thought. “Around four years now, I sat beside him on the first day of History 109.” They lean back in their chair, resting their hands in their lap with a chuckle. “He drank my coffee.”

“I thought it was mine,” Sukuna groans from the kitchen.

Uraume smiles wider. “I’m not sure how you thought that. You were drinking black coffee and mine had cream and sugar.”

“I thought classes started at ten, not eight,” he huffs as he pulls more dishes from the table “I was tired.”

“I suppose you needed the caffeine more than I did,” Uraume laughs, their eyes crinkling gleefully at the corners. “But it did mean that he owed me a coffee,” they continue their explanation. “Our friends got along well, and here we are.”

“God knows Toji needed someone to keep him in line,” Sukuna mutters.

“Toji… you mentioned he got you kicked out of Gojo’s once?” You question with a tilt of your head as Sukuna clears the last of the dishes from the table.

Uraume hums. “Sounds like the right Toji. He can be a handful. We can introduce you when classes are back in.”

“I’d like tha-”

“Kunaaaa, can we open presents nowwww?” Yuji interrupts, doing his very best to remain patient.

You giggle at the poor kid, who’s just about bouncing off the walls like a ping pong ball at the rate he’s vibrating in his seat.

Sukuna sighs, shutting the last tupperware lid over the remaining vegetables. “Go wait in the living room.”

Both boys’ chairs scrape the floor as they dash into the living room, excitedly yelling about who gets to open their gifts first.

The tattooed brother watches them with mild interest, returning to the table where he leans over the edge on his hands. “Can you entertain them for a minute?” He glances between you and Uraume. You nod in unison and watch as Sukuna pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Sliding one from the pack, he balances it between his lips and opens a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out a box of matches and striking one.

His cigarette burns like a lone star in the night sky against the backdrop of the twinkling apartment. He inhales as he whips the match through the air to put it out, tossing it in the sink to cool as he waits until he’s on the balcony to exhale smoke.

Before he shuts the door, he frustratedly murmurs something about having lost his dad’s lighter. The door closes with a thud, and he leans over the balcony, his back visibly rising and falling as he sighs.

With the kids excitedly seated in front of the tree seemingly entertaining themselves, Uraume uses the opportunity to turn towards you with a more serious expression, though they remain smiling.

“I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for him. I know he won’t ask for help, but he needs it. He doesn’t seem as burnt out lately.”

You return their kind smile, nodding. “He doesn’t make it easy, but I’m trying.”

They roll their eyes, chuckling. “He certainly doesn’t, does he?” As their laughter dies down, they cast a glance at the kids. “I’m surprised he told you about his brothers though.”

Shaking your head, you blow air from your nose in a wry laugh. “He didn’t. I ran into him after he didn’t show up to work on our project.”

“Oh? In that case, I’m surprised he’s let you in at all.”

“You and me both,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I think most of our friendship has hinged on the fact that he thinks he owes me.”

“Sounds familiar,” Uraume quips, getting to their feet as Sukuna makes the motions of putting out his cigarette outside. He rolls his shoulders backwards in an effort to stretch his muscles before stepping back inside. You follow after Uraume, quickly making a motion to grab the gifts, as well as your forgotten cookies.

“Oh! I- um- brought some cookies,” you hold out the tupperware as you make your way into the living room, setting the container down on the coffee table with the bag of gifts at your feet.

“That’s so kind of you!” Uraume delights, opening the box.

“They’re nothing compared to your cooking, but they were always a tradition back home for me,” you smile to yourself, heat rising to your cheeks.

Finishing the cookie in only a couple of bites, they shake their head. “They’re delicious, and it’s still very kind of you.”

You find yourself grinning, glancing at Sukuna who hums in agreement as he takes one as well. The brothers are close behind as they practically scarf the treats down, their eyes shining.

“Alright you brats, there’s one for each of ya from me, and one to share.”

“Wait!” Choso cries out, scrambling to his feet as he runs down the hall. You watch curiously as he rounds the corner with three santa hats. Adjusting his antlers, he holds them out to you, Uraume, and his older brother, met with two ‘thank you’s, and an adamant ‘no’.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which of the three of you is scowling down at the hat held in his hands.

You nudge his bicep with your elbow, a gleeful smile donning your lips. “C’mon, Kuna. Just wear it for an hour. Look how excited they are.”

Sukuna follows your gaze, deep red irises flicking between the two kids before resting on the hopeful look his middle brother wears. With a sigh, he gives in to both your and his brother’s wishes, pulling the hat on over his tousled pink hair. Even with his familiar grumpy scowl, he looks surprisingly cute in the Christmas spirit.

Though you’re sure if he realized that, the hat would disappear in an instant, so you keep that secret to yourself.

“One at a time. Youngest goes first.”

Yuji scrambles excitedly with the first of his gifts, tearing at wrapping paper around a gift box that’s practically his size. Tossing the paper aside, he flips the box towards him, eyes wide at the five-year-old sized basketball. He gasps in excitement, holding it up triumphantly. “A new basketball!” He proclaims, immediately trying to tear it from the cardboard.

“Slow down, Yu. There’s one more thing in there.”

Yuji curiously peers down at his lap, now noticing the black and red material he’d missed previously. He holds it up, gaping at the realization that Sukuna’s gotten him a custom jersey with his last name scrawled in big red text across the back with his favorite team’s logo on the front.

“No WAY!” He cries out excitedly, standing up and immediately pulling it on over his t-shirt. It’s a bit big on him, but Sukuna figured it made the most sense to get him a bigger size given how fast he’d been growing. “Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou!” Yuji cries, hopping up and down excitedly.

Sukuna’s chest swells at the sight of what he hopes is a Christmas living up to his brother’s dreams while you and Uraume grin at his sides. Even by his own standards, he thinks he could enjoy Christmas if it’s like this every year.

Like a shot to his chest, his mind suddenly reminds him of the impending lawsuit, but he pushes the thought aside, subconsciously pressing his knee against yours.

You cast him a glance at the feeling of his leg knocking against yours, but you can’t make out whether he’s aware of how close you are. Your cheeks warm as you search for a meaning behind the action, but Sukuna’s mirthful expression gives nothing away about his lingering doubts. Likely thinking too much into the action, you let it go.

“Your turn, Cho.”

Sukuna points to a smaller gift wrapped as neatly as Sukuna could manage (which is to say not neatly at all) in snowflake-covered light blue wrapping paper.

Choso grabs the gift, much more timidly opening it. He pulls out a set of kid-sized knives along with a pan sized appropriately for him. “Thank you, Kuna!” He grins, testing out the weight of the pan in his hand.

“Be careful with those things,” his elder brother mutters as Choso examines the knife set. “One more thing in there for you too, Cho.”

Deep brown eyes widen and he peers down so suddenly his antlers nearly fall from his head. Sure enough, beneath some tissue paper at the bottom of the box is a black apron, also a bit big for him, with his name embroidered across the front in deep purple.

In a much more subtle show of gratefulness than his little brother, Choso holds it up with a look of wonder, running his thumb over his name. In disbelief, he too gets to his feet and throws it on over his head, tying it at the back.

Choso’s grin widens and he runs up to Sukuna, practically hopping over the coffee table in an attempt to get to him. “Thank you, Kuna,” he repeats himself again as he clings to his brother’s sweatshirt.

“Mm.” Sukuna ruffles his hair with a small smile. “Go open your last gift with your brother,” he urges. “And you two better share.”

Choso hops back towards his little brother as the two excitedly unwrap their last gift from Sukuna. Within a small box sits a copy of Sonic Advance for their Gameboy.

“No way!” Yuji proclaims excitedly, turning back to Sukuna. “You’re the best, thank you!” He cries, scrambling to his feet to hug his brother. Choso follows suit, each kid finding a place on either side of the tattooed man.

He blows a breath out through his nose, smirking as he pulls them in. In a rare moment of genuine happiness, he hugs them close. You cast a glance at Uraume, who seems just as happy to be a part of this moment with Sukuna’s little family. They may not be perfect, but they care a great deal for one another, that much is clear.

Uraume leans forward and hands the boys a card. “This is for both of you.”

“You didn’t have to get them anything,” Sukuna mumbles to his friend. “The dinner is more than enough.”

“I didn’t have to,” they agree, “but I wanted to.”

Choso tears the envelope open, reading the card out to his brother before peering down at the three papers that fall from the envelope. “Sonic the Hedgehog 3 movie tickets?” He gasps with wide eyes, looking up at Sukuna.

“Tell me the third ticket is for you,” he grumbles to Uraume as Yuji hops to his feet to hug them.

“Nope! I checked with both of your work schedules, you can make it,” they grin at him, bursting into laughter at the grimace that pulls Sukuna’s lips into a frown.

As the cheers and laughter dies down and the brothers make their way back over to the tree after hugging Uraume, you pull out two long, slender boxes and hand one to each kid.

Sukuna sighs, his brow knit tightly together as he avoids your gaze. “You didn’t have to do all this either. You do more than enough for them too.”

“It’s Christmas, Kuna. I wanted to.” You shrug. “Open them at the same time,” you instruct, watching Choso gingerly rip the paper off as Yuji is already eagerly tossing it aside. With wide eyes and gasps, they both hold up Nerf guns, a purple one for Choso and a red one for Yuji.

Sukuna groans as the two boys exchange an excited look, showing their gifts off to one another. “You’re gonna give me a damn headache, woman,” he grumbles, leaning forward on his palm with his elbow resting on his knee.

Yuji bounces to his feet, running to give you a hug as he thanks you over and over, followed shortly by Choso. You wrap your arms around them both, rubbing both of their backs softly. Adjusting your hat so it doesn’t fall off of your head as they pull back, you’re about to grab your gift for Sukuna when Choso gingerly shuffles in place in front of you.

“We- um- have something for you guys too,” he proclaims in a voice barely above a mumble. With a shy smile, he runs off to grab what you can only assume is the gift, leaving the three of you in an air of confusion.

Yuji returns first, followed shortly by Choso. Hidden in their fists are three woven friendship bracelets each. Your lips part, forming an ‘o’ as you gasp at the sight. The two boys are positively too cute.

Holding out your wrist, you watch with tear-filled eyes as Yuji’s tongue sticks out while he ties a red and white striped bracelet around your wrist. It’s the type of bracelet that isn’t coming off anytime soon, but you don’t mind one bit. You’ll treasure it for as long as it’ll stay on your wrist.

Yuji moves on to Sukuna with a red and black checkered bracelet while Choso ties a purple and blue striped bracelet around Uraume’s wrist, his face scrunched in concentration. Unbeknownst to him, Sukuna’s knee presses harder into yours, a somber look crossing his eyes for a split second as he stares down at the checkered bracelet soundly wrapped around his wrist. He swallows hard, twisting his wrist to better see the woven jewelry.

With a glance to either side, he watches with a barely-contained frown as Choso ties a purple and black checkered bracelet just below Yuji’s on his wrist, moving along to add a purple and white striped one to yours.

Both you and Uraume grin, while you obviously fight tears of joy at the simple, yet meaningful gift. Sukuna's stomach seems to twist and he forces down the bile that threatens to come up, chewing on his lower lip.

The idea that this could be the last gift he ever receives from his brothers is fresh in his mind, plaguing his thoughts like an endless nightmare. His muscles tense as he returns his gaze to the two checkered bracelets around his wrist, one much cleaner looking than the other, but that’s not what matters to him.

With a tight-lipped smile that barely masks his underlying anxieties, he’s just about to open his mouth to thank the kids when you speak up first.

“This is so sweet, you two are so talented!” You beam, eyes glassy as you continue to fight tears.

Your knee gently brushes his, a silent acknowledgment that you recognize the paralyzing distance crossing over his eyes. Your quiet offering of support doesn’t go unnoticed and Sukuna uses the opportunity to compose himself. With a sharp intake of breath, he forces a smile that reads more real than the tight-lipped one he previously wore.

“Thanks, kiddos.”

“They look wonderful,” Uraume agrees.

Returning to their gifts, the two kids distract themselves by tearing into whatever cardboard they can get their hands on in an effort to free the basketball and Nerf dart guns. As they busy themselves with their new gifts, you pull out one more box for Sukuna with a cute little bow wrapped around the gift box.

He peers down at the gift as you hold it out to him, shaking his head.

“I don’t need anything,” he grumbles, his mind still somewhat fuzzy as he grapples with the stress of the lawsuit.

“Just take it, Kuna.” You hold it out expectantly to him.

He sighs, taking the box into his hands with a glance up at your timid expression. Pulling at the ribbon, he unwraps it and slowly opens the box, his lips twitching into a frown as he picks his Type O Negative shirt up from inside the giftbox.

“My own shirt,” he comments with a sarcastic edge to his tone at what he’s sure is a joke gift, though he’s actually somewhat relieved you didn’t get him anything.

You giggle at his disdainful expression. “You’re just as bad as your brothers. Unwrap the shirt.”

His brows knit together as he slowly unwraps the shirt. Hidden between the layers of fabric is none other than his dad’s lighter, with the cap back in place, shining like the day Sukuna pulled it from his father’s belongings as though it’s been freshly polished.

His jaw subtly falls open as he drops his shirt into his lap, flipping the cap of the lighter open and watching as he turns it and the flame comes to life. He blinks a few times, his throat tightening as he turns the lighter, the ‘Itadori’ engraving no longer dull and barely visible, but full of life and a stark contrast to the rest of the metal.

Shutting the cap, he runs his tongue over his lower lip once before biting down a bit too harshly on the plush skin, a metallic tang penetrating his taste buds. He pays it no mind, finally looking up at you.

His expression is unreadable and your stomach flutters with nerves as his words seem to fail him when he opens his mouth, fiddling with the lighter.

“You fixed it?”

You nod. “I mean, a professional did, but yeah. I hope- I thought you might appreciate it after the whole lighting yourself on fire thing.” Your voice is quiet, wavering slightly. You catch a questioning gaze from Uraume, but they don’t dare interrupt the moment.

Sukuna stares down at the lighter for another moment, flipping it again. Your stomach does a flip when he rubs his face harshly and you can’t tell whether he’s frustrated with you or thankful.

He’s so damn near tears that it takes him a moment to compose himself before he lowers his hand back down the lighter. “Shit, princess,” he mutters, his throat raw with emotions that he can’t identify.

Unable to tell if that’s a good or bad reaction, you wrap your arms around yourself, tilting your head. “I hope it’s- um-” you stammer, trying to find words, but it’s not like you can undo what’s been done to the lighter, having taken a leap of faith to begin with, even if the gift was Choso-approved. “Sorry, I-”

“Shut up.” Sukuna’s tone isn’t nearly as assertive as usual as he shakes his head at the lighter, unable to meet your gaze out of fear that his eyes might be red again, though this time not from weed. “I appreciate it.”

Your brow raises and a smile finds your lips as relief washes over you. “Yeah?”

He blows a humorous breath out through his nose, nodding. “It means a lot.”

Your smile stretches to a grin that you exchange with Uraume, who seems to know the meaning behind your gift just as well as you do.

“For the record, Uraume’s still right, you should quit,” you point out, earning a sharp stare. Giggling, you nudge his shoulder playfully. “But I know what that means to you, so I thought- you know,” you shrug, thankful you got the right impression from the fact that he continued to use the lighter long after it had broken.

“You two are pains in my ass,” Sukuna huffs, shoving the lighter into his pocket as he finally finds himself back in the moment as the source of your teasing. Reaching up to scratch his chest, he leans back against the couch again. “When did you nab my lighter anyway? It disappeared on a night when I don’t think I saw ya.”

You shoot a smirk at his middle brother, who’s carefully loading foam darts into his toy gun, completely oblivious to the conversation going on between the adults.

“I see,” he hums. Your accomplice glances up as he feels three pairs of eyes on him, tilting his head curiously until Yuji grabs his attention and his impending question is long forgotten. Swallowing, Sukuna gets to his feet. “I have somethin’ for you too.”

He disappears around the corner towards his bedroom, and you’re left exchanging a glance with Uraume, who shrugs. You hadn’t expected anything from him, simply grateful to have company in the absence of your family over the holidays.

You glance back in the direction of the hall when his door clicks shut and he re-emerges, a single piece of paper held carefully in front of him. He sits between you and Uraume once more, turning to face you with a furrowed brow. “Here.”

Gingerly taking the page from him, your jaw drops at the sight. In his traditional graphite and charcoal style, an artistic rendition of you smiling at something off to the side of the page’s line of sight is scrawled across the paper. A clear amount of care has gone into capturing each of your features, deliberate shading and lines framing your complexion.

Bringing a hand up to cover your gaping mouth, you barely manage to whisper, “you… drew me?”

Sukuna’s somewhat glad you haven’t looked up at him yet, his face burning red hot as he brings a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “You loved the project piece so much, I figured…” he trails off, staring down at the piece in your hand when he catches a glimpse of your trembling hand holding the paper.

You chew on your lip as tears prick in your eyes, butterflies threatening to burst at the seams in your stomach as your heart practically rolls over itself in your chest. Whether he returns your feelings or not, one thing is beyond clear.

Sukuna cares a great deal about you, to have poured so much time and effort into something like this, but one more thought lingers in the back of your mind. A thought that has you teetering dangerously close to spiraling into thoughts of uncertainty.

Sukuna thinks you’re beautiful. The proof is in the care that went into each stroke of his pencil and smudge of charcoal to portray you just as he sees you.

“Shit, are you…?” Sukuna mutters when he hears you sniffle, taken aback when you set the art aside and leap forward to hug him. His arms stiffen in the air as he stares blankly at the wall, uncertainty clouding his actions.

“Thank you, Kuna,” you mumble meekly, tears stinging at the edge of your tone as you do what you can to hold them back.

Silence hangs between you, interrupted only by the sounds of clicking plastic as the boys figure out their Nerf guns. Uraume smiles from behind Sukuna at the sight of their friend struggling to wrap his mind around you hugging him. It takes a moment, but gradually his muscles relax and he wraps his arms around you in return.

“Mhm.”

Your eyes flicker open, catching Uraume’s warm smile as you pull back from Sukuna, whose gaze trails to the art. Following his line of sight, you pick the piece back up and hold it gently in your lap.

“It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

He opens his mouth to reply, when a stray foam dart hits him square in the jaw and tumbles down to the ground at his feet.

“Watch it, brat,” Sukuna glowers at Yuji, whose toy gun is pointed a little too precisely at his forehead for his liking.

Unfortunately for the tattooed man, this doesn’t deter his little brother one bit.

With a plastic click, another foam dart is sent careening through the air, colliding with the man’s forearm as he lifts it to block the attack. “Brat!” He barks, getting to his feet and stepping over you. A giggle and pattering of small feet against the hardwood can be heard as Yuji skitters around the corner and out of sight.

With a sharp glare and intent to chase his brother, Sukuna stops, turning to you and bending down to your seated height. He points an accusatory finger at you, his face close enough to make your mouth go dry.

“This is your fucking fault,” he hisses, sans any malice. Despite the fire behind his glare and the accusation dripping from his tone, you spot the telltale sign that Sukuna’s having fun. His lip quirks just the tiniest bit at the corner, giving him away as he straightens and grabs the wall to send himself flying around the corner after his brother. “C’mere you little shit!” He calls.

“No swearing!” Uraume reminds him, but their reminder is met only with cacophonous laughter and the sound of foam darts hitting the wall at a near alarming pace. Yuji comes sliding around the corner, one hand tightly gripping his antlers in an effort to keep them on his head. He scrambles away from the foam darts that bounce harmlessly off the ground behind him before diving towards the couch.

You set the art in your lap on the coffee table before the youngest Itadori can clamber into your lap for protection.

The plastic sound of a gun cocking rings in the air as Sukuna points it squarely at you. He sports his usual scowl, but amusement swirls in his eyes.

“She ain’t gonna protect you, brat,” Sukuna threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare shoot us, would you?” You stick out your lower lip pleadingly, pouting as you play along.

Without missing a beat, a dart collides with your cheek.

“Ow!” You gasp in disbelief, although the dart didn’t truly hurt you at all. “Okay, so maybe you would,” you grumble, rubbing at your cheek. “Choso! Shoot him!” You point at the oldest brother.

Choso, who had previously only been watching, hesitates for a moment as he glances between you and the oldest sibling, before firing a shot at Sukuna’s arm. Sukuna’s attention is pulled to Choso, his teeth grit as he fires back a shot at the boy’s shoulder.

“Run, Yu!” You whisper to the little boy, who bounds down off the couch and into the kitchen in a fit of giggles.

Choso gets to his feet and runs into the hallway as the three brothers engage in a Nerf war, bringing a smile to both your and Uraume’s faces.

“I can’t help but feel as though you should have gotten one for Sukuna as well,” they laugh.

You settle into the center of the couch where Sukuna had been seated, laughing alongside them. “Seems like it.” Turning your attention towards them, you shake your head. “I’ll be honest, I thought Nerf guns would annoy him.”

“Oh, they will. I give it a week,” Uraume pointedly nods and you find yourself laughing alongside them again.

“A week is too generous.”

“A day, perhaps?” They laugh.

As the air between you settles, warmth washes over you. You’ve seen small moments like this in the apartment, ones where the three brothers are all smiles and laughter, even Sukuna, but this one seems different somehow. Less fleeting, as though the burden and weight of Sukuna’s responsibilities aren’t bearing down quite as hard on him right now, even if it’s only for a night.

You don’t believe in miracles, and certainly not Christmas miracles, but if they existed, you think this is what it would look like.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before.”

You turn your head towards Uraume, tilting your head. “Never?”

They take a moment to contemplate it before shaking their head, their lips pressing into a thin line. “He’s been playing the role of parent so long that I think he sometimes forgets he’s their brother.”

A pang of sadness floods you as a stray dart flies across the kitchen, clanking as it hits a glass that didn’t fit in the dishwasher before it falls to the floor. You’ve seen glimpses here and there of the version of Sukuna that gets to be just a brother and student, it’s hard to believe it’s a side of him that Uraume’s never seen.

“You know,” they comment, setting their elbow along the back of the couch as they lean on their palm, “he seems a lot more relaxed these days. Is that your doing?”

“I guess, maybe,” you shrug. “I’ve been helping take care of his brothers here and there.”

They smile. “I’m glad he has another reliable person to lean on.”

Heat crawls up to your cheeks, but before you can reply, Sukuna trudges into the living room and slumps into the couch with a huff.

“You know, suddenly the Sonic movie doesn’t seem so bad,” he grumbles with a sly look in your direction.

You roll your eyes playfully, nudging his knee with your own. “Oh, don’t act like you aren’t having fun.”

He doesn’t reply, reaching up to pull his Santa hat off and set it aside, running a hand through his hair. He lets out a breath, leaning his head back on the couch. There’s a sense of calm to the silence held between the three of you that Sukuna’s grateful for. A certain understanding that even if only for a moment, he needs this escape.

“Thanks. Both of you.” In an uncharacteristically serious tone, he folds his arms over his chest, relaxing into the couch as he spreads his legs in typical man fashion. “I think Yuji got what he wanted.”

There’s an undertone to his words that you catch, one that gives away what he’s thinking, but before he can slip into a distant world of worries, you set a comforting hand on his bicep. His eyes flicker down to your hand, his expression unreadable.

“Merry Christmas, Sukuna. You too, Uraume.”

He blows air through his nose in a wry laugh, his expression relaxed as your hand drops back to your side. Carefully moving the art of you aside, he kicks his feet up on the coffee table.

“Merry Christmas.”

With a content sigh, Uraume gets to their feet. “I think it’s time I head out. I have an early breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oh! So do I,” you follow suit, beginning to gather your things. “Do you need a ride?” You ask, having taken note of the fact that Sukuna’s gift to them was driving lessons.

“That would be great,” they reply with a smile as you both begin gathering your things. Sukuna calls the kids over to say goodbye before you leave as you pull your coat over your Christmas sweater.

Yuji thanks you both, adorably referring to Uraume as ‘Rume’ as he hugs them, before hugging you. Choso follows suit, both pairs of auburn eyes shining brilliantly as they stand at Sukuna’s feet.

“Thank you for the bracelets,” you grin, kneeling down to Yuji and Choso’s level. They both have three matching woven bracelets on each of their wrists in true friendship bracelet fashion, and quite honestly you could cry at how sweet that is.

Yuji leans in to hug you again, pulling back with a bounce to his step as he cries out “Merry Christmas!”

Choso repeats the merriment more quietly, waving at you both.

“Don’t forget your cookies,” Sukuna hands you the tupperware, but you shake your head.

“If I eat nineteen cookies on my own, I’ll be sick,” you giggle. “Let these two have them.”

Yuji excitedly rocks forwards and backwards on his feet at the prospect of having nineteen cookies that his oldest brother is almost guaranteed to not want.

Sukuna sighs, grimacing as his hand falls back to his side when you refuse the cookies, but he keeps his mouth shut.

It’s Christmas, he supposes his brothers can have some cookies, so he relents.

“Got your gift?”

You nod, unable to help the shy grin on your lips as you hold up the bag that the art is safely sitting at the bottom of.

“Good. Lemme know when you’re both home.”

“I’ll email you,” you confirm.

“Get a phone, Sukuna,” Uraume scolds, only to be met with a sneer as Sukuna’s lip curls in irritation.

“Bite me,” is all he replies, unwilling to admit that he needs to save for a lawyer before he can save for a phone.

He can worry about a phone once this is all over. For now, it’s Christmas, and he wants to put whatever focus he can into granting Yuji the only thing he actually asked for this year.

A big Christmas.

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❦ a/n ; i know i'm a bit late for the holidays and i'm sure many people will be reading this outside of that time period anyway, but i could nawwwt resist giving them a warm and cozy lil holiday together <3 not sure what happened but when it hit 10k words i figured i'd just make this a full chapter. aaaanyways i hope you all enjoyed the sweet fluffy glimpse into their family christmas because i have some angsty plans coming up 😶 forgive me!! as always, thank you for the love and support <33

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[thinemoonshine]

𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖇𝖑𝖊; 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈𝖑𝖊𝖘

immortal!enhypen x mortal!female reader content(s): college setting, vampire enhypen, human reader, enhypen has an unhealthy fixation towards reader, mature and dark themes, warnings will be specified at each chapter type: mini series (6 parts)

red strings tangled beyond repair, the solution being to return to the hand they are tethered to. but things prove to be more painful—more excruciating than any they’ve ever felt. even for immortals who deem pain as merely a child’s game.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

ℌeeseung rushes through the woods, undead heart pounding rapidly, vehement and erratic—much more than it ever has when he was alive. Prickly thorns and branches graze and cut through his porcelain skin, leaving bleeding wounds that seal themselves almost as instant as they were made.

“She’s here. She’s back,” his whispery voice is carried by the wind as he continues his relentless pursuit to find her. The one they have been waiting for so long—decades, centuries and millennials. Eternity.

𝔍ongseong huffs, breaths heavy as he tails close behind—not of exhaustion, but of fierce desperation—and his chest heaves while he wears a pained countenance. The everlasting yearn that burgeoned throughout his years of living whilst dead pouring from his very being—showing through the reddening rims of his eyes and the whites of his curled knuckles.

A grunt rips through 𝔖unghoon’s throat as the bottom of his trouser gets caught by a thick branch. He clicks his tongue, irritated, and haphazardly retracts his leg—the fabric tearing with a loud, clear sound. But he’s mindless of it, much too occupied with seeing her. Finally. The mere idea of it brings a clarity to his mind, quietening his incessant, intrusive thoughts and a hopeful smile makes its way to his face.

His surroundings that typically appeared bleak and grey slowly regain their significance and colours and he inhales the earthy essence—the moist, healthy soils, fragrant blooming flora and even the faint scent of sweet nectar and honey.

The world feels beautiful once more.

“I can’t believe it! After all this time!” 𝔍aeyun exclaims, excitement buzzing through his veins and raising goosebumps on his skin as the adrenaline builds. His pearly whites are displayed from his unrestrained ear-to-ear grin despite his feverish stunts.

Hopping from one tree to another and landing with a spin onto his feet—continuing his sprint briefly before retuning to his jumpy behaviour. He’s overflowing with pure delight, eyes sparkling incandescently as he seizes his lip between his teeth.

𝔖unoo giggles joyously, eyes upturned into crescents as he plays a game of chase with 𝔍ungwon. The moment they felt her presence, an indescribable sense of merriment flooded them, washing away their never ending misery. Their withered hearts that were once weighty with doubt regarding her return now beating with anticipation and conviction.

“Catch me if you can~” Sunoo challenges and Won’s grin broadens, dimples deepening and eyes glaring with determination as he hastens his steps—eliciting a shriek from the older.

Their laughter resound within the woods and as if celebrating alongside them, the birds chirp and sing in an optimistic tune while warm sunlight shines against wet leaves and puddles. Small, faint streaks of colours emerging around them and casting a beautiful glow.

A picturesque scene right out of a film.

Lagging behind is ℜiki who’s still astonished and yet, skeptical. Why now? After all this time, why now? Could they be wrong? Maybe they had all mistakenly think it was her. It’s not an impossible thought considering how it’s been…forever since their last moment with her. Their instincts might be rusty.

But he knows. Truthfully, he knows that they can never be mistaken. No one sets their souls alive like she does.

And admittedly, he too knows that his denial stems from fear. The fear that she may arrive and fleet away just as abruptly. And once again, he will be abandoned, left to wallow in his own self-pity and desolation for years and centuries to come. The gap in his chest widening more and more with her absence.

His teeth grit and jaw tightens at the already torturous thought. He swallows dryly, dreading the possibility but a sudden tug within his ribs, the sudden lightness he feels and the lack of emptiness inside—

A gasp escapes as he snaps his head up, facing the front to see his brothers all decelerating as they approach the exit of the forest they’ve caged themselves in where across is a human town. Wasting days, months, years away inside their sumptuous mansion with their plentiful riches just to be overcome by the sense of vanity.

Their attentions are transfixed by the bright light that awaits them—the end to their painful yet, wilful confinement and they glow. They are radiant, spirits flourishing and… alive.

“She’s here,” Riki mutters under his breath, voice cracking as eyes brim with tears.

The seven figures emerge between the tall trees like creatures of myth—dangerously enthralling and breathtakingly beautiful—with their steps slow yet determined.

But they are forced to a halt as great, extravagant forms of red and orange greet them obtrusively—dancing flamboyantly on their faces and frozen frames as their senses that were previously dulled by her overpowering being begin to sharpen.

While the feeling of her begins to blur.

They can finally hear the deafening wails and shrieks as the choking scent of thick smoke infiltrates their noses and fogs their vision with layer after layer of soot. Sirens of ambulance and firefighters are blaring while crowds of people are frantically running from the burning resident, screaming for help.

And amidst all this chaos lies one girl quietly at the side of the street, tranquil, with her head against the plush green grass, a hand beside her head and the other resting on her stomach as if taking a siesta—if only her dress wasn’t dyed crimson by her own blood, face isn’t dusted with gray from the remains of debris and the torment that reveals itself from the marks of drying tears.

The seven appear beside her. Heeseung and Jay dropping to their knees as Sunghoon stands paralyzed yet shoulders tremble violently at his shaky breaths. Jake’s teeth sink deep into his lower lip, drawing blood as he tries and fails to muffle his wails—heavy tears brimming his eyes and flowing down his reddened cheeks like a storm.

Jungwon gulps, a sharp pain stabbing through his throat at his pitiful attempt to swallow his grief but the burn in his eyes betray him as he too ends up sobbing and shivering as he struggles to stand. Hands and sleeves wiping his face repetitively as his cries heighten.

Sunoo’s emotions are unvarnished, bare and loud as he screams in agony and wrath. Everything is unfair. He doesn’t want this— no, he CAN’T. His palms grate against the scattered debris and they stab and dig through his skin mercilessly yet, he’s unfeeling.

Even as his blood drips and paints the vibrant green with red, he remains… drowned in his anguish. Ears once again muffled as he can only hear his previous doubts taunting him, ridiculing him and shattering him more than he already is.

And Riki… he kneels beside her inert body, staring with clouded eyes as he slowly lifts his large hand onto hers and it quivers slightly as it nears. The moment they touch, her foreign, cold temperature makes his eyes well up and thick salty globules seep into her dress—his body bending lower and lower until his forehead rests against her still stomach.

Whimpers and silents gasps of her name escape past his lips like a spell, as if it will resurrect her and this continues until Sunghoon approaches to cautiously, slowly lift her limp body into his taut arms.

Although wordless, the others understand perfectly—feebly rising to their feet as they trail behind him who makes his way back into the woods. The panic instilled in others make for perfect distraction and they disappear from the public once more.

Sunghoon strides grimly through the tall, mighty trees—breaking whatever branch that obstructs his path with his inhuman strength, trampling every vivid flora that burdens his track and disregarding anything and everything else.

He sees only vanity. Nothing worth his attention.

He lays her on a slightly raised white stone dais with beautiful intricate engravings on each of its four sides—fresh flowers, spirals and crystals adorning its plainness.

The seven figures encircle her, silent and deeply scarred by the abrupt tempestuous of emotions that they experienced that are powerful enough to make them feel nauseated—wanting to vomit their insides and ruin whatever remnants of their humanity, all there are that enable them to still feel and hurt.

But simultaneously, they wish to remember it all, to keep themselves sentient so they can once again relish in the joy and miracle that is her. The one who they’ve sworn to guard and have surrendered themselves to. This singular wish manages to keep them sane albeit hanging by a thread and they watch with heavy eyes as Jake nears the dais.

His hand lifts, palm to the sky as a gentle flame appears—movements irregular as it grows larger and larger before it stills into a steady fire.

With a deep exhale, he says, “Until we meet again.”

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