#even though the characters are only mentioned I'll tag them too

[thunder-jolt]

My Mortal Kombat OC, Sarendi Mortess...

Alright, to briefly explain Sarendi Mortess before I get to her lore, she is the daughter of the Elder God, Shinnok, and often goes by "Beast of Hunger" and most famously and infamously (in lore, specifically, not IRL), "The God Eater". Personality-wise, only a few single words, along with some phrases, can properly describe her: "savage", "monstrous", "gluttonous", "unpredictable", "wild", "a menace to all of society", and "an absolute fucking demon". Those are the best surface-level ways I can really say. Aside from "bizarre but also the most generic" in terms of lore. (Also, in terms of where she is in the timelines, if she were to be a canon character, she is from the second timeline, who then came to the third timeline to bring chaos to the realms, eating people along the way.)

Speaking of lore, I might as well.

First off, some background details before talking about the backstory itself. So, before there was Sarendi, aside from the Elder Gods and Titans, there was a deity by the alias of "The Fertile One".

The thing about the Fertile One is that, (even though Cetrion is technically Mother Nature in the sense that she is the goddess of nature), she is a Mother Nature equivalent, with the Fertile One can create life with just her presence and her blood, no matter the environment (meaning that life can be made whether it be in a conventional place like a jungle, or in an unconventional place like a concrete jungle, aka a city.)

Now, what had happened, which resulted in Sarendi's birth, is that Shinnok, back when he was still addicted to bloodshed, murdered the Fertile One in cold blood, along the way accidentally consuming some drops of the Fertile One's blood. About a few days later, he ends up having the worst stomach-ache known to man, on the ground, on his knees, clutching his stomach in pain.

When he was being helped up by his servants, one of them said that they felt something growing and moving around in his stomach, and reasonably, Shinnok wants it out as soon as possible, immediately, even. So, by Shinnok's painful plea, he had his stomach gutted and there, out came an infant who, once the child hit the ground, wailed and cried. (A gruesome scene, in my opinion.)

As Shinnok is recovering, while the child still wails, he tries to comprehend the situation, wondering frantically, "What happened to me? How did this happen? And why did it happen?", and then Cetrion came in, to see what the hell is going on, and then immediately knew what had happened and how it happened.

To put it, Shinnok killed the Fertile One, accidentally drank her blood, and ended up bearing the Fertile One's child. (It's mpreg, fucking mpreg, I say. With all the bluntness available.)

Cetrion tells Shinnok that he has to take responsibility as a father since he birthed the child. Not wanting to be a father, especially so immediately, he refuses, even suggesting that Cetrion should raise the child; however, since Cetrion also doesn't want to be a parent, she also refuses.

And common sense tells both of them that Kronika shouldn't raise the kid either because of two reasons, one is that Kronika doesn't want to raise another kid, and two, Kronika's a bad mother.

And well, they could find someone else to raise the kid, but due to Shinnok's infamy, the chances are incredibly slim. So Shinnok has no other choice but to be the father of who we later know as Sarendi Mortess, and he does a HORRIBLE JOB AT IT.

Just to keep it short, due to the parental neglect, Sarendi wasn't raised properly and was also starving, leading to her killing and eating Shinnok, and then Cetrion, and then finally Kronika. How? Who knows, perhaps pure, unbridled savagery?

Whatever, anyways, after that, she goes out and begins eating people, notably powerful foes, before being (briefly) imprisoned by the other Elder Gods and Gods in general.

But that imprisonment didn't last that long, since she managed to be freed by a human named Mariet, whom she befriended until the girl's untimely death, and then went on to go to the third timeline in search of more victims to consume.

Enough aside, I must warn y'all before I show you Sarendi. First off, a typical trigger warning for blood as her lips are just stained with it, and secondly, her design's not flashy or makes her stand out from, say, Mileena or Scorpion, it's low-key kinda boring if you grayscale it, but I tried my best.

Anyways, here's Sarendi Mortess.

(Had to size down the file because of Tumblr having errors with uploading this image.)

If you feel like the necklace that Sarendi is wearing seems familiar, congratulations, that's meant to look like Shinnok's amulet! (The only way to connect her to Shinnok, somehow. Aside from probably giving her horns, but whatever.)

[stardestroyer81]

So, guess who's Steven Universe trash now?

After being convinced by my fellow Starfighters to give the series a shot, I've since fallen in love with it only fifteen or so episodes in, and I just had to whip up a design for what my Gemsona would look like! MASSIVE shout-out to @stephysalcido and @minxxikuo for collaborating with me on her design— it wouldn't have been possible without them! 💚✨

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

first fall of snow

how spencer guesses you're pregnant before you actually tell him

fluff word count: 1390 warnings & tags & stuff: pregnant reader, slight issues with mother mentioned?, non-graphic vomiting, mentions/allusions to winter holidays being celebrated, kinda spencer's pov but still 2nd pov, reader is scared spencer will leave her lol, anxious!reader in general, mentions of death?, probably medical inaccuracies ive never been pregnant author's note: hiiii i'm forcing myself to post this because if i don't then i'll never post and i'm being BRAVE. i hope it can be a little comforting maybe. i've realllyyyy been struggling with my take on spencer's characterization lately soo this was kinda like a bootcamp/exercise situation into his mind and less an expression of my writing skills, iykwim. let me know your thoughts if u have any! i love you & have a splendid day!!

Spencer is walking—speed walking—toward his car, away from the case he just finished, away from serial killers and guns and geographical profiling and death.

He places his feet carefully on the snow-covered sidewalk with each step, the cold air biting at his face. He barely notices it, absorbed in the path ahead, as the snow provides a satisfying crunch underfoot—a nice background to his perpetually racing mind.

He doesn’t like the winter. It’s always too harsh outdoors, and too stuffy indoors, and he’s trapped in a suffocating haze no matter where he goes. 

His phone starts to vibrate gently in his pocket, interrupting his racing thoughts for a split second. His pace falters as he pulls it free, a quick smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he sees it’s your name on the screen.

“Hi. How are you?” he asks after picking up, watching his breath come out in puffs of vapor in the cold air.

Winters, however, have gotten progressively better each year he spends with you.

“...I’m okay,” you say, though the crack in your voice reveals the all-consuming ache in your bones and mind.

“No. You’re overwhelmed,” he guesses in his matter-of-fact way, voice gentle. You huff out a soft laugh at his ability to read you, never getting old.

“Yeah, I guess. A little. The holiday season, you know. Are you on your way home?” you ask, voice softer now. You’re sitting on the couch of yours and Spencer’s cozy apartment, wrestling with a blanket to cover your lap, and bouncing your leg relentlessly.

“I’m walking to the car now. Hey, have you done the crossword today?” Spencer asks, words a familiar, tender remedy for your nerves. You told him a long time ago that hearing his voice makes you feel better, and there are times, like these, where he just knows it’s what you need. You rest our head on the arm of the couch, curling up.

“No, I didn’t have the time. Why?”

“There was an interesting question about causes of death in Shakespeare plays, but they completely messed up the part of speech. It read, ‘Popular ways to die by the hands of England’s national poet’. I thought it was ‘poisons’ at first, but it was actually ‘stabbed’, even though the correct answer grammatically should’ve been ‘stabs’ or ‘stabbings’,” he says, his car now in sight through the steady sprinkle of snow coming down. “Do you think I should send an email to let them know? I guess stabbing does make more sense, though, versus poison, because throughout his works, thirty characters out of his 74 that died were stabbed compared to only four that were poisoned. Three were stabbed and poisoned. Did you know that two were actually baked into pies, which is a-”

“Oh my god, the pie,” you groan, cutting him off mid-sentence, sitting up hastily, the blanket falling to the floor.

“Pie?”

“Yeah. My mom coerced me into making it to bring tomorrow.” You pad over to the kitchen and crouch down to peek through the hazy glass of the oven, inspecting it. “Oh,” you murmur. “It’s…not pretty.”

He sandwiches the phone in between his ear and shoulder, gently opening the door to his car to sit down as he listens to you. He turns the heat on, exhaling in an exhausted relief, hovering his hand over where the air comes out. 

“Can you tell me what it looks like? Maybe I can help,” he suggests, leaning back against the headrest and letting his eyes close for a second. You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the counter as you bend down to take it out. “Don’t burn yourself,” he adds, hearing what you’re doing.

“I’m not going to burn my-” you cut yourself off with a huff. “Whatever. It’s just really messy. There’s like… liquid overflowing where the lattice should be.”

He hums. “How long has it been cooking for?”

“45 minutes. My mom sent me this one ancient recipe that I had to use written on parchment paper from like 70 years ago, and it does not have a bake time listed, so I’m just eyeballing it.”

“Okay. You could either put it back in the oven in hopes that more of the liquid will evaporate, or you can leave it out to cool down and hopefully thicken,” he says.

“What do you think I should do?”

“I think you sound exhausted and need your sleep.” 

You sigh, staring at your mess of a pie, hopes that you’ll appease your mother this year slipping further and further away, soon to be completely buried by the snow.

“Hey. I’m sure it’ll taste really good. Besides, people still liked Shakespeare, and he wrote about much worse pies than you could ever make.” 

A smile pulls at your lips.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just leave it out to cool and head to bed. Will you stay on the phone a little longer?” you ask, padding over to your shared bedroom.

“Of course.”

He doesn’t start driving as you talk, not when nearly 2000 people die per year due to driving on icy roads, and two thirds of them were people who were reported to not be paying close enough attention.

And especially not when 54 hours ago on your last phone call, he noticed a drastic shift in your behavior, and was quickly able to tell that you were pregnant. 

He had too much waiting for him at home to be spinning out on black ice because he was talking to you and not watching the road.

He chooses instead to look outside at the falling snow, blanketing the city, his city, the very first for D.C. to have this winter out of the septillion snowflakes planet earth receives each year.

…

Spencer gets home a little later that night, holding another pint of cherries in his hands. Not for the pie—which he turns to see resting on the stove and winces slightly at—but for you. 

Cherries, with their 342 mg of potassium per cup, help replenish lost electrolytes and can soothe nausea.

He’s expecting it to start any day now.

He quietly steps into the bedroom, setting his bag by the door to be dealt with tomorrow. The soft glow of the lamp that was left on, presumably for him by your endlessly considerate heart, provides just enough light so he can get changed. He then finally clambers into bed next to you, one hand reaching out to lace in your hair, moving his fingers to gently scratch by the nape of your neck. He lifts the other to rest, like you're made of a delicate china, on your lower stomach, sighing in pure relief the second it makes contact.

You turn sleepily, humming when you’re met with the sight of him. “Spence,” you murmur, contented.

“Hi. I really didn’t mean to wake you up. I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly.

“I'm glad you did. I like it when you wake me.” You tuck yourself closer to him. “I love you.” His hand comes to trace gentle patterns all over your back and arm, and he gives you a little kiss, adoringly.

“Go back to sleep. I love you.”

You let your eyes shut once again, this time much easier now that he’s with you. You inhale his scent, which you swear could repair anything broken or lost in this world. You exhale, wondering if he’d still hold you the same way after learning that you’re carrying his child. 

It’s a scary thought, but you’re comforted by his warm touch, pushing you farther out into the deep sea of sleep.

Once your breaths get steady and your mouth parts slightly, he adds, in a whisper, “Both.”

…

The next morning, when you’re hunched over the toilet bowl, Spencer is there with you, rubbing your back and wiping your teary eyes. You look up to him after brushing your teeth, and no words are exchanged. He tugs you into his arms, silently quelling any of the countless anxieties swarming your mind, at least in this moment.

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He lets it rest there, cupping your jaw.

“Let’s go shopping after breakfast today, okay? You need prenatal vitamins.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“And a new pie.”

[blubunz]

YAP SESSION 3

— RE chars in general x gn! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: Sex. Just casual stuff nothing crazy. RE characters includes: Leon , Carlos, Ashley, Jill, Chris, Ada, Luis. Claire is mentioned but I don't write anything horny abt her.

A/N: I have a hunch I'm actually gonna be sick un,, not feeling so great. This is just what j think if it's based on normal stuff like no fucked up messed up situations whatever, just casual lovers making love and what they like.

Consensual.

Ok now that's out of the way, I have some preference in minds, obvi they're purely just my opinions.

Leon is like, the guy who swings with whatever you want. Rough? Yeah. He'll go feral. Gentle? Ok. He'll be so sweet, even moan for you I'd you want to hear them, in which most of the readers in my fic would love. Most of the time it's just you, you, you. Him asking you what you want. Princess treatment or absolutely feral, he doesn't have one in mind, he's just on board with whatever you want and if you don't say anything, he'll ask you what you want anyway while kissing your cheeks so sweetly.

Carlos,, grhfrgrhgrh, he's so bite-able. I think he's the soft type. Like, he can be rough, but most times, he chooses not to if you don't specify anything. He absolutely loves seeing you just getting satisfied and happy, so yes, he'd go rough if that's what you want, just not without you saying. Even when you did something bad, or if you hit him when youre on top, he'd just melt and cradle you in his arms, kissing you, and you two would have some cuddle-fuck session. In my mind, Carlos is very emotional and sentimental in his love life. I can ramble on about the same thing over and over, how he's an absolute king in showering you with too much affection.

Slapping? You're into that, but Carlos is scared of hurting you. Bondage? He doesn't want to see ropes burn into your skin, the only thing should be on your body are his marks and hickies.

So anyways, his biggest turn-on is seeing you getting so, so satisfied. This might make him indulge in overstimulation however, he keeps making you cum and seeing your brain melting after each orgasm. That's right, you don't have to think, just be happy of what Carlos is giving you — pure love and affection.

I don't get much thoughts fron other characters in a sexual way, but I'll think about it like rn. Both Leon and Carlos are hot to me so obvi they're like,, um, long, and,, the first ones I write about.

I think Ashley would be some vanilla stuff, and if you two both try to go into some kinky stuff, things just gets awkward because both of you never really know how to do it professionally, and then you two would just laugh and watch a movie.

Jill is like,, ohmygod,, she's so ourhrorhrirug. The Jill in my mind is like, into the casual stuff, but she prefers handling you as well. She mainly wants to see every once of your reaction so mind you usually sex with Jill will never be a quickie, she doesn't do it slow, but rather she just does a lot of things to finally let you go.

For Claire. No, idk, I never think of her in that way and when i think about it now,nothing comes to mind. I love her character! I just don't associate her with these horny stuff so no.

Chris, big beef guy, I like him too! I think he'd enjoy handling you like Jill. Ok, so he's be like, usually, dominant and rough, hed praise you though, but hes very rough, and he enjoys using his strength to let you know who's in charge. but like, you can put him down no matter how strong you are. One word, one pleading look and you got him all soften up and asking you if you needed anything. Usually, he's never the one to initiate too, he respects you and only fucks you when you want to. If he's horny and you're not then he's holding it in, not even letting you know. If he's not and you are, then, obviously he has the need to satisfy you in every way he could.

Ada is like, I think with how she is in the games, she'd know what you're into by now. You're an open book to her and she can read you. You didn't even have to ask, it's like she knows. It creeps you out honestly, sometimes, at how every time she knows what you need. Maybe she keeps track every month? She knows your kinks too, and when you talk to her, she's like,, "I know,," sometimes she surprises you during sex, turning the usual sex into one imof your kinks. She enjoys seeing you surprised following with the high amount of pleasure that follows suit.

Luis. A bottom.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋmy last, my everything ୭ৎ ིྀ

pairing: exmafia!katsuki x reader

❥ read this first!

summary: katsuki had vowed to you to stop this, to make sure you two could live safely from now on. but when you get thrown into the fight again, is he able to save you?

tags: fem!reader, wife!reader, mafia mentions, violence, angst to comfort, cursing, blood, pet names, no quirk au!, threats, guns, mention of death, character death

(a/n: i went with the more interesting ending.. take that how you will)

wc: 4k

he wouldn't fail. it wasn't even an option. the sight of you bloodied on the floor ran through his mind, fueling the fire of his soul as he drove back

he had been forced back to HQ first, that idiot only working at irregular hours of the night.

it was three a.m. way past his bedtime, you'd know as he forced you to sleep alongside him at eight. sometimes the sun was even out when he'd go in for the ‘night.’

he breathed a sigh of half relief and half annoyance as he saw the annoyingly flashy red car in the parking lot of the ‘casino’. he walked in to be greeted by the group of them sitting at a poker table, deku at the head.

katsuki took a seat by the rear, eyes closed but ears open. they had started talking already, but minutes were millions with that idiot. so deku had to ask his questions quickly.

“we just wanted to ask if you'd sold any information on any of our former blood.” midoriya started, eyeing as hawks grew a smirk on his face, his expression one of mock thoughtfulness.

“well, i did. but on who and what will cost you extra, but you know that already.”

“we'll pay, just say it.”

hawks shrugged, examining his fingers as he suddenly spoke quickly and quietly. “let's just say a cloaked man bought the information out of me. wanted bakugo katsuki's addresses and affiliates, former jobs and things he'd been involved with. he offered a lot of money, so my hands were tied. you get it.” a smile broke out onto his face, “but a little birdie told me he trained under eraserhead, i'll give you that for free since i caused you some problems.”

“we already figured that out asshole.” katsuki grumbled. “thanks for your help hawks. ah.. he's just upset, and to be frank i am too.” midoriya said, his voice gaining unusual stoicism in the latter half of the sentence. “you caused issues for me, you know that right? and you can't even give me his identity… it's just an utter disgrace.”

hawks put his hands up in mock surrender, “hey, hey. i didn't say i didn't know who he was. but, fact is that it'd cause you a lot of money to buy his identity in full, you know i'd have to break my code for that.”

“you didn't mind when you sold out bakugo though, did you?” todoroki muttered, flipping a coin in his hand.

“heh, yeah.. i guess i do owe it to you all then. well it's settled,” hawks clapped his hands, “i'll just give you the gang they work under for free.” he slid an envelope over to midoriya. “thanks for the business, sorry for the trouble bakugo.” he rushed out as quickly as he came, the sound of the car speeding out the runway the only thing heard while midoriya tore through the envelope.

written in red ink, with a small smiley face on the very corner, was the name of the gang. “shiketsu?”

midoriya yelled shocked.

they had recently just called a ceasefire to the years of carnage spread between the gangs, the handshake all might did with shindo signified it.

“why would they attack bakugo? it just doesn't make sense.” iida pondered, “though, i guess he did rough a lot of them up back in the wars we had.”

“but there's no reason for them to hold it against them, we had an agreement. we all drank together and everything!” kirishima exclaimed, his hands gesturing around.

“we'll have to go over there ourselves.. likely someone has held something against kacchan for a while.” midoriya ordered. “get your things ready, i don't want any weapons noticeable. concealed and carried, burners too.”

“got it.” they all agreed in unison and got prepared. katsuki was hit with a wave of nostalgia at the notion, putting his favorite gun in his hilt. he always carried, even now, but it was different. this was different.

as he loaded into the car, fist bumping kirishima, he felt almost nervous. he hadn't done anything like this in a while, let alone go to a gang that clearly had something against him. against you.

the ride was quick, kirishima and kaminari blabbing on about how cool it was for him to be back, patting him on the back and smiling. assuring him that they'll find the guy who did this and punt him to the ground.

katsuki could only hope they were right.

they arrived outside the club, walking in immediately to the back. at the sight of deku they opened the doors, nodding at him slightly while letting the group in.

“kacchan, you come with me. everyone else,” he moved to face them, “stay here. on guard, and play nice.” katsuki followed behind him, moving to shindo’s head court. they had to go down an elevator, it was odd really. the last time he was here it was to beat the fuck out of him, and now it was to ask why the hell he picked a fight. with his wife.

it was now six in the damn morning, katsuki was as pissed as ever, midoriya telling him to cool down or he'd leave him behind.

he was a hypocrite though, as he walked in uninvited, a displeased air surrounding him. shindo, who usually invited him over randomly, always accommodating his presence as they were good friends, noticed this odd aura. “midoriya, what brings you here? seems you're not happy with me.”

midoriya took a breath and sighed. “i don't think you would betray me shindo, but facts are facts. one of my men– sorry former men,” he gestured over to katsuki, “had a loved one attacked.”

“that's horrible.” shindo commented, “you don't think i did that though.”

“not you specifically, but.. hawks himself said the one who did was associated with shiketsu.”

“hawks??” shindo almost jumped out of his seat. “well it wasn't me.. definitely not. couldn't have been any of my closest blood either, the only ones who it could've been..” he snapped his fingers like a realization dawned upon him.

“must've been this newbie seiji and his quadrant. he's a new guy, a sniper, he had a crazy good background. he worked fo–”

“eraserhead. right?” katsuki finally had spoken, stepping forward. “right. well, i caused you two a bit of problems huh? lll help you locate him. that's all though.” shindo stood up, handing them a tracking device.

“a tracker?” midoriya questioned, eyebrow raised. “all fresh blood are unknowingly tracked. it's just protocol here, you get it.” shindo shrugged sheepishly.

“right.. remind me to not get on your bad side.” deku joked, laughing about some nonsense joke. katsuki guessed he'd temporarily forgot about the situation, so he snatched the tracker out his hand. “hey!”

“this is…,” his heart dropped, hands sweaty and shaking slightly as he started to recognize. the street names, the buildings, his building.

“why is this fucker close to my house?!”

all of their eyes collectively shot up. you were home, did it already get out that you were alive?

heart pounding, katsuki went rogue. he blasted out of the room, ignoring midoriya’s calls behind him. shoving past his blood and the people in the club, only one thing on his mind: you.

kirishima chased after him as he'd ran into the parking lot of the club, hot wiring a sports car and speeding off.

he threw the burner over to kirishima. “call her, now.” kirishima barely caught the phone, the car drifting and slamming him to its sides so often he felt queasy. “chill out bro!” he dialed the number, but you weren't picking up. he had it on speaker, so the voicemail tone was heard.

“again.” katsuki ordered, his hands gripping the wheel. “call her again.”

“fuck– she's not answering man. we're almost there, she'll be fine.”

“you don't know that. that– that crazy bitch is there.” the tracker now found itself in kirishima’s other hand, the location reading inside his house. “youre not gonna want to hear this.”

“don't fucking tell me. we're here.” he barely pulled in to the driveway when he jumped out the car, braking it abruptly. “back me up.” was all he said as he continued moving forward, not looking back.

he walked up to the door, doing his best to stay quiet as he hopped your white fence and entered through the glass door. he saw you.. and.. surely enough a man he's never seen before.

you seemed off as he barged in, unmoving as he screamt, “[name]! move now!”.

at your silence and stillness, he walked closer to you. only to stop at the red dot aimed at your forehead.

“katsuki. don't move, please.” you were crying, tears streaming down your face as your hands shook. your knees looked like they were about to falter under your extreme fear, your eyes wide and horrified. “stay back.”

he stilled as well, noting the man who had just the rifle at point blank range. he smirked at katsuki, who had his fists balled in anger. kirishima hadn't revealed his presence, hidden behind the sliding door of your home.

“i don't like to leave my work unfinished, you know?” the man said, keeping his finger close to the trigger as he continued speaking. “i don't know how or why, but she managed to avoid my first shot. man my teacher would be pissed.”

“eraserhead?”

“yeah, eraser. he told me all about how you embarrassed my blood a couple years back. how you drove over half the members to the brink of death.”

“yeah, i did do that.” he felt weird talking about this in front of you, you never like it when he spoke about his job in front of you, and now was no different. other than the bullet in your direction. “there's a cease now. we're okay, the fucking shit is over.”

“who gives a fuck? not me. you– you expect me to believe they don't want you dead? that they don't hold some shit against you?”

“they don't. put down the gun– she's not even involved in this.” he slowly moved forward, his hand nearing his gun.

“stay back! or i'll shoot.” he hung his finger right over the trigger, “i'll blow her brains out. back the fuck up.”

katsuki stilled, “don't do this. why her? why not me if you're problem is with me?”

the man scoffed, purple hair covering his eye as he sneered. “because i know that wouldn't hurt you as much as this. as much as killing her in front of you. you're life must've always been disposable, all of us are. normal people don't join gangs.” he laughed, continuing on and on about something as katsuki tried to grab his gun without him noticing.

“who– who fucking tipped you off huh?” katsuki grumbled, attempting to take his attention off his wandering hands.

“well, it started with shinsou. i stole a couple of his bullets, real easy. that dumbass is trusting as long as you're associated with his teacher.” the guy laughed, “hawks though? i offered him a crazy number, asking for your addresses and shit. he gave in easily.”

he eyed the hand towards katsuki’s waist. “drop your gun, do you think i'm fucking stupid?”

katsuki tsked, “you sure do look it,” pulling out the silver ghost and putting it on the floor. it fell by his feet. “kick it away, ill ignore that remark since im feeling gracious.” he did so, making it ricochet off your foot.

filled with a newfound sense of confidence, the man chuckled, going closer to you. he brought his body closer, gun still pointed at you. he was rambling now, his words weren't anything katsuki was focused on. he was looking at his moments, waiting. waiting for a moment to strike, a moment of weakness, something.

and he saw it. his gun faltered, the weight of the large sniper not meant to be freely held in the air finally affecting him, as he had to switch hands to keep supporting it. he was quick to try and fix its position.

but katsuki was quicker, headbutting his stomach. a shot rang out, thankfully the gun had been pointed towards the ceiling, only hitting a random area in the roof. the two on the floor were fighting, fists full of rage as they pushed each other.

the sound of smashed bones and hits so strong katsuki knew they'd bring bruises to his knuckles the next day rang throughout the room, they were both in blinded rage.

after they had been knocked away from eachother, they eyed the gun next to them, chests heaving and body parts broken. they lurched towards the gun, the purple haired man closer to it.

he was going to grab it first, katsuki internally panicked, but the sight that came after only made him worry more.

the sight of you grabbing the gun out of his reach.

you had picked up the gun. you who could barely stomach stomping bugs or killing wasps. you who hated watching horror movies because doing that to people seemed so cruel. you, who had cried when he taught you how to shoot a gun, hoping that this situation would only pop up in his worst nightmares.

you who shakily held up the gun towards the man’s head, making him scoff. “put down the gun, princess. you won't do it.”

your chest was heaving, your knees felt like they were about to give out. your heart was racing, your fingers fumbling over the trigger. “b-back away.”

katsuki didn't know what to say, neither did kirishima who'd burst in from behind you. if he told you to put down the gun, you'd both be in danger. he could take it from you and kill all of you. fuck, why did this have to happen?

“put down the gun, little girl. you're not cut out for this life, so just hand it over. maybe you'll see your husband in purgatory, sure as hell not going to the same place though.” his hand was nearing the gun, his head was so close to the barrel. your hands shook, your eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched, a shaky exhale escaped your lips. katsuki recalled that look from ever shot he'd made you shoot at a range, the face you made when you finally grew enough courage.

“[name]!”

the man's eyes widened as you shot him, point blank rage. his blood splattered over your hello kitty pajamas, but you'd never forget the look on his face when you opened your eyes. the white of his eyes staring at you, the hole that pierced his head and ruined the white of your carpet, the hand that had tried to cover his wound in the millisecond that he had left of his life.

people, people you didn't recognize barged in to the front of your house. they didn't look horrified at the corpse at the floor, they looked more scared of you.

you'll never forget how they all treated you. approaching you like you were a nut case, coaxing you to throw the gun away from you like you didn't want to run away from this whole situation. baby-talking you like you were insane.

you'd never regretted marrying katsuki, but standing here. bloodied and a murderer. that was the first straw for you.

but like always, he'd save you from the mess. when the gun dropped to the floor, on top of the body with a sickening clank! he grabbed you, carrying you up to your shared room.

in your solitude you sobbed, wailing into his chest like you'd done just a day prior. the sun had just risen, illuminating your tears as you shook on your shared bed.

he held you close, reading your mind. “you're not a monster, or a murderer.”

“how can you say that though? i just killed him!” your eyes widened, heart beating like crazy. “it was self defense, he would've killed us all. you did good [name].” he held your face in his hands, letting you see him with his bruised and cut up face.

“you saved me. you saved yourself. you saved anyone that would've been targeted by that freak.”

you finally calmed down enough to go shower. the blood washing off your body didn't help to calm down the storm brewing in your head, the anxiety overcoming you, but he did. he always did.

as he helped rinse the blood of your face, your arms and where it'd been caught in your stomach, replacing it with suds of rosy soap that he'd bought because it ‘smelled’ like you, the voices in your head came to a slow stop.

he was the only one who understood, the only one who had gotten his hands bloodied the same way as you, even worse. as he held you that night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, holding your body close to his as if you were to disappear, you felt normal again.

all traces of the body were gone the next morning, the dent in the ceiling the only remnants of the situation. as katsuki cooked breakfast for the two of you, you couldn't believe how regular it all felt.

how nothing seemed changed, how when kirishima and kaminari came over to cheer you up and check on the two of you they didn't seem phased. how you all sat around your dining room table as normal, katsuki drinking his black coffee while holding your hand under the table, all of you joking around as regular.

how when you went back to your bakery everything was fixed already, a little green sticky note standing out from the display case that was empty because of your absence.

‘sorry for the inconveniences mr and mrs. bakugo, take this as our apologies.’

-midoriya, shindo

there were two small doodles of them on the corner, making you laugh as you gawked at the renovation done to your lovely little shop.

you showed it to katsuki who only scoffed, a small smirk on his face as he looked over the fresh paint, tiles, and replaced tables. “damn nerds.”

you didn't feel so up to baking today, which katsuki understood perfectly. you left the store hand in hand, noticing how the glass of the entrance had been fixed too.

you'd walked to the ramen shop you'd had your first date at, taking the booth in the corner like always. katsuki held your hand, clinging to you more than usual.

he barely let you out of his sight, even offering to feed you, which made you laugh and smack his chopsticks away.

“hey, 'suki.” you asked, poking his side. “it's over right? you're coming home?”

he nodded, swallowing his food before answering. “asshole’s off the streets, that's all i wanted for you, and for us babe.”

“ew don't kiss me when you just ate!”

“do you not love me woman?! we almost fucking died!”

what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you, that's what katsuki thought as he reasoned his white lie.

he pondered how he'd make it up to you. technically he didn't do anything wrong in your eyes but he'd still feel internally guilty. he'd take you out to all your favorites, get you a new purse, do all the chores for a week. that sounded good to him as he made his way back to HQ, his hands in his pockets as midoriya eyed him with a knowing look.

you shouldn't and wouldn't want to know about his true final day right? how he'd ordered kirishima and kaminari do round up the rest of the quadrant. how he'd told them to leave them all for him in the basements of the HQ.

how he truly earned back his reputation of being explosive, leaving the three assholes who'd dared to conspire with a guy like that mangled and unrecognizable. if not for the names written in sharpie on their arms he wouldn't have remembered which one was which either.

he dropped the hammer from his hand, looking down at his work with a sense of satisfaction. he changed out of his clothes into the clean ones he came in with, throwing the bloodied ones into an incinerator.

he let iida and shoto handle the bodies, they were always good at leaving them left without a trace. fast too.

he thought about you the entire walk home. he felt giddy at the thought of seeing you again, excited to just exist in your presence. he stretched his body, working up the courage to see you as he opened the door.

“babe, you're home! where have you been?” you crashed into his chest, tightening your hold around him as you hugged him.

“out, finishing up loose ends y’know.”

as you looked up at him, trust and love in your eyes he knew.

he knew that he'd go back, leave, and kill all in a vicious cycle if it all meant coming back to you at the end.

because you were his everything, so he'd do anything for you.

tags: @miguellover6969 @lotusstarr @dragonscribble @theplacetoputfics @hannahk

[werewolfaday]

Any good werewolf content? Like books or movies. I really love werewolves and I rarely see content of them online

oh gosh uh see i'm like in the same boat as you. it's very hard to find quality werewolf media that's not alpha male type smut or bad horror movies (though some of those are fun) or . teen wolf, which i have only watched a couple episodes of and cannot in good faith recommend

an american werewolf in london, ginger snaps, and dog soldiers are really good movies with very fun practical effects. one of my professors actually worked on the werewolves for dog soldiers! the howling is not a good movie but i kind of love it i can't lie. OH and you should watch the wolf man even though i don't love that movie; it's just really important to understand where the modern understanding of werewolves comes from! (edit: SOMEONE IN THE TAGS also mentioned van helsing and that movie sucks in such A Way but the werewolf designs ROCK!!!! all of the monster designs do. i have had a very specific vision of it where i make the main character a butch. maybe someday i'll draw that)

i have heard good things about the marvel miniseries werewolf by night but i haven't watched it. and if you do watch it pirate it bc fuck disney + marvel.

wolfwalkers is a really well-made and sweet animated movie i would solidly recommend to anyone. beautiful art style, great message, and a really fun interpretation of werewolves.

dungeon meshi has some fun lycanthrope stuff in some of the chapters!!

there's a comic i really love called "After Dark" (on Webtoon) and I have to admit I only have the time to see the creator's posts on instagram, which are snippets of the story. but I adore the art style and characters a lot. you can follow them on twitter here!

Night Class is another (mlm/werewolf) comic and I'll link its twitter here. Really dig the art style too!!

uhh but lemme recommend some of my favorite werewolf creators on tumblr too! because truly we are lacking in good lycan media and i would recommend more indie stuff to fill that niche in more interesting ways:

@gorgynei

@nataliedecorsair

@wolfskulljack-art

@senkkei

@piskikone

@kinerxy

@trashasaurusrex

@blackbackedjackal!

lastly i'm gonna link a pdf of my favorite medieval poem, Bisclavret!! it's about a king and his werewolf.

[sleepy-grav3]

We Became Heroes Because You Didn't

The Justice League don't specialize in much. If you ask them, they'd say otherwise. Unless they're one of the Bats, because they acknowledge that, especially with magic. They hate it, but they have connections and will at least ask for more details to deal with the situation at hand. Though they'll need proof.

That's the thing really. Proof. Because how are you going to get proof of something if everything gets repaired by the end? Or maybe you're the villain here according to the public. Or maybe everything you say is just plain crazy that nobody even knows what's going on from the start!

It was only when another group was formed when everything became clear. They were frowned upon, unknown, spoke nonsense, and never asked for help. They were the survivors that played hero. They were the shadowed version of the Justice League.

They were Justice League: Dark

A fanfic (or multiple small ones grouped together?) that isn't really about them joining forces, but more about the discovery of more dangerous territory that's being handled by kids/teens. Lift some weight for these kids. They really want a safe net by now in their hero careers.

Like- maybe a few of these wouldn't be the JL's fault. Maybe it was the government (at least for the US). Like Danny Phantom and Gravity Falls mentions the government, maybe they blocked off those regions from outside connections.

I feel like it would be funny if maybe Constantine just ends up collecting kids like Batman with his.

They're just kids! Itty bitty toddlers. It's supposed to be our job to take care o' that shit, ain't it?

And JLD now has a bunch of young professionals cause what the fuck, kid. Why do you know this??? Ya know? Maybe the JL just randomly finds these things, calls Constantine after Zatanna fails to know wtf is going on, and he just calls over a kid. Or a group of them.

JL: We need a professional, why is there a child here?

Constantine: Cause even when you fuckers ignored their calls for help, they still at least try to help where they can

JL: We never-

Constantine: Shut your traps! School's in session

*Child tries to explain*

JL: You have to be kidding me. ___ doesn't exist.

Constantine: Oh bloody hell-

Child: And they wonder why they get more attention than us.

idk, I just like the idea of Constantine being a father for OP characters and desperately want a Young Justice League: Dark. I read a couple of Danny and/or Billy being adopted by him, but the cravings... And if it's a whole big crossover thing, that would be great. Tag me if you see or write about something like this. I wanna read too :)

Don't put too much hope in me writing it though, I'm seriously bad at continuing/finishing stuff. But if I do, I'll edit this post with links to whatever I write.

[mononijikayu]

cure — ryomen sukuna.

"I’ll write you the best songs, little lamb. Even better than what I already gave you." he promised to you. His tone was softer than usual. "Songs so good they’ll make the stars jealous." “You are making quite big promises, don’t you think?” You tease him, giggling as you read over his newest piece. “This would make the stars jealous.” "Yeah, because they’re our songs." he’d say, his smirk softening as he handed you another crumpled page. "No one else gets to have something as good as this. Not even the stars. Only you.”

GENRE: alternate universe - alien stage au;

WARNING/S: dead dove do not eat, nsfw (not safe for work), alien invasion, heavy angst, romance, conflicted feelings, dehumanization, hurt/comfort, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, humor, guilt, trauma, pining, complicated relationship, emotional distress, grief, canon related violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, social isolation, depiction of character death, depiction of dehumanization, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of emotional and physical abuse, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, mention of dehumanization;

WORD COUNT: 16k words

NOTE: this was supposed to be posted much earlier but my glasses broke and i have to wear contact lenses, but its rough. my eyes hurt but i wanted to put this out there for yall. i need to get new frames for my glasses, so let's hope i can do that later or tomorrow!!! i adore alien stage and i was really stuck on stage 6, which is ivantill going at it. and so i wanted to write about it in a fic, but with sukuna. this is not an easy thing for people to read as alien stage explores a lot of dynamics, including dehumanization, trauma, violence and other things. so please be careful, i tagged what it containsfor a reason!!! in any case, i think you'll be able to read nanami's much easier. i hope you continue to look forward to it!!! anyway, i'll see you then. i love you all <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

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YOU’VE ALWAYS WONDERED ABOUT STARS. Everything about them is a curiosity to you, a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The stars, once distant and unknowable, had always felt like something you could only admire from afar—faint whispers of a universe too vast to comprehend, scattered far beyond the grasp of your outstretched hand.

But then the aliens arrived, and the stars transformed. They were no longer untouchable pinpricks in the night sky; they became tangible, living, breathing beings.

And one of them, Starlight, became more than a friend, more than a visitor from the cosmos. They became yours. Not in the way one claims possession of something, but in the way their very presence seemed to stitch itself into the fabric of your existence.

Starlight was radiant, their shimmering, soft luminescence enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Their light didn’t burn; it soothed, warm and alive. They spoke not with words, but with a gentle hum that resonated deep in your chest, as though they were singing to the very rhythm of your heart. When they were near, the world felt softer, brighter. They were your everything, your universe, encapsulating all of your childish self. 

Their curiosity mirrored your own, eyes (or something like them) wide as they marveled at the simplest human things: the way you brewed tea, the way the rain danced against your window, the way you laughed when you thought no one was listening. And in return, you marveled at them. They were a marvel, a being from the stars. And yet somehow so achingly familiar to you.

Every moment you both shared felt like secrets whispered between galaxies.It was endless excitement, especially for you who was still growing into yourself.

They would lift a glowing hand to the sky, and the stars would twinkle in reply, as if winking just for you. And when the weight of life pressed too heavily on your shoulders, when you missed home — you were reminded that you were already home. Because you were with Starlight.

Starlight was unlike anyone you’d ever known. Their presence was a tapestry of light and sound, shifting and shimmering in ways that no human words could fully capture. They were, without a doubt, the kindest of all the aliens you’d encountered—something you hadn’t thought possible in your tumultuous travels across the stars.

They never looked down on you, never acted superior. They never raised their voice or lashed out, never gave you cause to cry or to feel small. No, Starlight was different. They listened, truly listened, and their responses carried a patience and understanding that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

And they had this way of making you smile, even when you thought the weight of the universe would crush you. It was as though their very essence carried an unspoken promise: You are not alone.

You weren’t sure when it started, but somehow, you began to notice that you made them smile too. Well, if "smile" was the right word for the way their luminous form would pulse and shimmer with vibrant, joyful hues. It wasn’t until the day you sang that you truly understood how much you’d touched them.

You had been sitting by the viewing port, staring out at the swirling nebulae, the colors dancing in the void. The melody had come to you unbidden, a quiet hum at first, then blooming into words you hadn’t sung since you were a child. Your voice filled the chamber, mingling with the hum of the ship's systems. It wasn’t a grand performance, just something small and raw. But it was enough.

When you turned, Starlight was there. They were looking at you, their form trembling with flickering pulses of color you’d never seen before. It was awe-striking to see for the first time, who they truly are.

Those vibrant deep ambers and rich violets that seemed to ripple like a heartbeat. Their light dimmed for a moment as though catching its breath. Then, their glow intensified, and you realized they were weeping.

Tears? Could they cry? You’d never thought to ask before.

“Starlight?” you asked hesitantly, standing. “Did I... do something wrong?”

They stepped—or rather, floated—closer, their luminescence washing over you in a gentle cascade. They shook their heads at you, almost too reassuringly. Their hand rested against your head and traced the strings of your hair with soothing echoes. 

“Wrong?” Their voices vibrated like chimes caught in a soft breeze. “No, little one. What you’ve done is beyond beautiful.”

You tilted your head, still unsure. “But... you’re crying?”

They seemed to shimmer with quiet laughter at your confusion. “Your voice.” they said, “it carries something special. It reminds me of home, of frequencies long since lost to my kind.”

“Lost?” you echoed, sitting back down. “How can sound be lost?”

“It’s not just sound, little one.” Starlight explained, their glow shifting into softer, warmer tones. “It’s emotion, memory. My people... we’ve forgotten how to feel them as you do. Your song brought them back, if only for a moment.”

You felt your cheeks flush red, unsure how to respond to such an overwhelming compliment. “I-I see. But I….I still did not want to….I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Their light brightened again, wrapping you in warmth. “Tears are not always sorrow, my dear little one. Sometimes they are the purest form of joy.”

For a while, you both sat in silence, the vastness of space your only witness. Then, tentatively, you asked, “Would you like to hear another song?”

Starlight’s form pulsed with an eager glow ethereally happy. “I would be honored.”

Over time, you grew fonder of that voice of yours. That voice of yours that harmonizes to what the other aliens called singing. What once felt like a mere habit became a passion, nurtured by the joy Starlight showed in your songs. Starlight delighted you in every way they could, bringing melodies from across the cosmos to inspire you. 

They filled your world with sounds and instruments. At times, they would bring you little boxes they often called on Earth as music boxes. You had to crank it up over and over to hear those little sounds hum its tune.

You don’t remember much about Earth at all, but those melodies were haunting refrains from distant moons, rhythmic pulses from pulsar dances. They were beautiful. At times you wondered, is this what Earth people like?

You were thankful for everything Starlight would do for you. In return, you wanted to delight them too. So, you tried your best all the time, to sing. You sang for Starlight’s guests—beings of every shape, size, and light. And with time, they too grew fond of your voice. 

Their praises were frequent, full of admiration. Their luminescent forms often shifted with excitement as they spoke about you after your performances. That’s when the whispers began from each and everyone of them when they came around. They tried to be quiet, but they were always loud enough to be heard. Not only by you, but ever so clearly, your Starlight.

“Bring your pet to the Alien Stage.” they’d say to Starlight, their voices rippling like waves. “Surely, they’d win the crowd over.”

The first time someone said it, you noticed the subtle change in Starlight’s glow—a flicker, almost imperceptible. Their eyes, usually brimming with warmth, grew wide with tension. They would shake their head in a proud, head-strong manner. 

“No.” they said simply, their tone firm, though the words hummed low, almost mournful. “I will not.”

But none of them were deterred by each refusal. If anything, that only made the urge stronger, with each and every time you sang in their presence. Each time the suggestion came up, however, Starlight’s refusal was the same, unwavering. Each time, it was a hard pressing refusal. Over and over again, it was — “No.”

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You didn’t even know what Alien Stage was. But as the guests chatted, your curiosity grew. You overheard them talking with excitement about the performances, the music, the awe-inspiring singers from every corner of the universe.

They’d list the names of their favorites, their voices buzzing with admiration. Some even mentioned their own “pets” performing there, beings like you, brought to the stage to dazzle the multitudes.

Your eyes widened at every detail. The way they spoke of it made the stage sound like a dream. This seemed like a place where voices transcended worlds, where songs could echo through the cosmos itself. 

You started to imagine yourself there, standing before an audience of countless beings, your voice reaching further than you ever thought possible. Maybe Starlight would be proud of you. Maybe they’d adore you even more if you proved your worth on that stage.

One day, your resolve solidified. You approached Starlight, your heart pounding with nervous excitement. “I want to sing for others. Not just for you, but for everyone. I want to sing on that stage. And make them as happy as I had made you!”

The moment the words left your lips, Starlight’s glow dimmed, their light trembling like a flickering flame caught in a draft. It was the first time you’d ever seen them falter. “You don’t understand what you’re asking, little one.” they murmured, their usually harmonious voice tinged with unease.

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer. “I want to share my voice with everyone too, Starlight. Isn’t that what music is for?”

Their glow wavered, their colors shifting to muted tones. “The Alien Stage... it’s not kind. It’s not about music, not truly. It's a spectacle. You are not a spectacle. You’re not a commodity, certainly not my pet, no matter how they insist so. I won’t let them turn you into something you are not.”

You blinked, taken aback. “But... the others, your friends—they said their pets perform there. They’re fine, aren’t they?”

Starlight’s light flared briefly, a rare burst of frustration. “Fine? Is that what they told you? Do you know what happens when the universe gets bored of a song? When will the novelty fades?” They quieted, their voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re my melody. My little one. I won’t let you be taken from me.”

Their words stung, but you couldn’t let go of the yearning in your heart. “My songs aren’t meant to stay here, Starlight. They’re like you—meant to travel, to touch others, to spark something in their hearts. Don’t you see? This is what I want.”

For a long moment, silence hung between you, heavy and unyielding. Then, finally, Starlight dimmed further, their light softening into a pale, reluctant glow. They looked distraught, nervous. They seemed to look close to tears.

“If this is truly what you desire, little one.” they said, their voice trembling. “Then I will take you somewhere to help you. But promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll remember that you’re more than a song. You’re more than what they might try to make of you.”

“I promise.” you said, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.

Starlight didn’t respond right away. Instead, they reached out, their light brushing against you in a gesture that felt both protective and sorrowful. You looked up to them, blinking in confusion. At this moment, you still never truly knew what these complex gazes meant. You were still a child, after all. 

“Then I will help prepare you for the stage.” they said at last. “But know this: the universe can be a cruel audience.”

You nodded at them. They can only pierce their lips in a tight line. “I’ll send you somewhere safe, where you can learn." they said, their glow dim but steady. "Anakt Garden. They’ll teach you, nurture you. But promise me this: don’t let them take your essence away."

Anakt Garden was unlike anything you’d ever imagined. It was an orbital sanctuary, a massive structure built to mimic nature but filled with the impossible beauty of alien design. The fields glowed faintly, shifting in color as the air pulsed with an almost musical hum. Trees stretched high, their leaves shimmering like glass, and the ground beneath your feet felt soft, warm, alive.

Other children were there. And you realized that they were humans like you. The pets they were talking about like you. You hadn’t expected that all humans were pets. You had only known what Starlight told you about the universe.

Still each human child in their own right was unique in their presence. Some carried the same nervous energy you felt; others radiated confidence. It was comforting, in a way, to see so many dreamers gathered in one place. All of them yearn to sing, as much as you do. That had made you smile for the first time, the first time since parting from Starlight.

And then there was Ryomen Sukuna.

The first time you saw him, he was sitting under one of the bizarre trees, his pink hair like a fuschia flame against the soft glow of the Garden. He seemed at least a bit older than you. But you found him to be a fair face. 

He had a presence that demanded attention, his sharp scarlet eyes daring anyone to look away. Where the other children were careful and obedient, Ryomen Sukuna was bold, loud, and entirely unapologetic. And with the way everyone spoke about him, he seemed to be a lone wolf. A persona non grata in a group of these jolly children.

Yet, when you first heard him sing, you were awestruck. You stood there, listening as though he was growing something in you. Like a flower that has been waiting to bloom. Everything in the air shifted when he sang like he was crying out for something to be heard.

Of course, His voice wasn’t polished or restrained; it was raw, powerful, and full of an unyielding intensity. It shook something loose inside you, something you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back. You couldn’t help but gulp, you wanted to be just like him too. You wanted to be as good as him, blessed with such a wonder of a voice too.

Sukuna being good at singing had lit a fire in you, one you hadn’t fully realized was there until now. Watching him perform was like witnessing a storm in motion. It was wild, untamed, and utterly captivating. Everything about him would make anyone feel like the world should revolve around him. And you wanted that too. 

You wanted to capture that vibrance too. You wanted to be good. You wanted to make Starlight proud. You wanted to sing. Sing like you were the best in the world. It made you want to push yourself further, to become better, to chase the same freedom he seemed to command so effortlessly.

You started practicing harder than ever, retreating to one of the isolation cells to hone your voice. Day in and day out, you sang, the emptiness of the chamber amplifying your every note. Sometimes you sang until your throat was raw, until your limbs ache from exhaustion. You forgot to eat more often than you cared to admit, too focused on perfecting your craft.

And yet, despite all your effort, you knew you were holding back. It wasn’t hard to tell that you were. And that frustrated you to no end. It wasn’t that you couldn’t reach those soaring heights or push into the raw, emotional depths you heard in Sukuna’s voice. It was that you didn’t let yourself.

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna was quick to notice. 

With those sharp eyes of his, he always noticed.

“You’re good.” he said to you one day, his tone deceptively casual. 

He leaned against the doorway to the cell, arms crossed, his sharp scarlet gaze cutting through you like a blade.You couldn’t help but glance up from where you sat on the cold sterile floor, startled. You hadn’t heard him come in. 

“Thank you.” you muttered, unsure how to take the compliment.

“But you’re holding back.” he added, his voice laced with amusement as he stepped closer. His smirk was as infuriating as it was challenging. “Why?”

You hesitated, your heart sinking under the weight of Starlight’s words—the warnings, the fear in their trembling light. You wanted to sing, you wanted to be the best. But you had to be true to what your Starlight said. You had to.

“I don’t want to disappoint my guardian.” you admitted quietly. “They’re afraid I’ll lose myself if I go too far.”

Sukuna tilted his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he was halfway to solving. Then he snorted, his grin widening into something both cocky and strangely reassuring. It was almost irritating. And yet, he had the right to be smug. He had it all figured out. All too well. 

“Lose yourself? You? Nah.” He crouched down to your level, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. “If anything, you’re too afraid to find yourself.”

The words hit harder than you expected, leaving you speechless. Ryomen Sukuna laughs for a moment before he leaned in closer, his laughter dying down. It was soon replaced by a sly smirk softening into something that almost felt like encouragement.

“You’ve got fire in you, you know that?” he said, his voice low but insistent. “I can hear it in your voice, even when you try to hide it. You’re scared of what happens if you let it out, aren’t you?”

You opened your mouth to argue but stopped. He wasn’t wrong. Some of the people here are favorites of many aliens who had come to Starlight’s home as guests. And Sukuna was one of them. And some of them whispered here about what the contest was like. Even more, you were without Starlight. They won’t be coming back until the next visiting day. 

He was right, he seems to always be right. You were afraid, sometimes feeling that fear of the unknown. That lack of security. That echo of loneliness. Of course you were scared.. You were but a child. And you don’t know much about this world. 

“It’s not about them.” he continued, his tone firm now. “Not your guardian, not the stage, not anyone else. It’s about you. You wanted to join because you wanted to sing, right? Then do it for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed. “But I—”

“No ifs, no buts. You’ve got something special, something that deserves to be heard. And if you keep locking it away, you’re not just letting them down—you’re letting yourself down.”

His words lingered in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once.You swallowed hard, feeling a spark of something new—courage, maybe, or defiance. Is it all that, you wonder? Or is just a phantom of a feeling. You didn’t know, truly. But his words made you feel like a fire was burning inside of you. And even if you didn’t know what it was…..at least it was there, long enough to keep you from sorrows.

“And what if I let it out and it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s smirk turned into a genuine smile, rare and disarming. “Then you keep going. You mess up, you fall, you sing again. That’s how you find your edge. That’s how you find you.”

He straightened up, his presence still larger than life even as he turned to leave. “Next time I hear you, lamb.” Sukuna called over his shoulder, causing you to blink as he called you a new name. “Don’t hold back. Let the fire burn.”

You sat there in the quiet for a long time after he left, his words echoing in your mind. Maybe Ryomen Sukuna was right. Maybe it was time to stop holding yourself back. Maybe it’s time to let that fire you feel be more than just a feeling. You took a deep breath, and looked at your music sheets again. It was time to practice once more.

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YOU FIND THAT YOU DWELL IN THE SAME AXIS AS SUKUNA. Somehow, you and Sukuna understood each other better than most in the Garden. It wasn’t something either of you spoke about outright. Well, there was no place for that here, after all.

So, there were no flowery declarations of kinship or shared confessions under the stars. But it was there, an unspoken connection that threaded between your interactions, subtle yet undeniable.

At first glance, it didn’t make much sense at all. You couldn’t be more different. Sukuna, with his razor-sharp confidence and unapologetic boldness, seemed to command the space around him, every action deliberate and brimming with power. You, on the other hand, felt smaller, quieter, more uncertain of your place among the dazzling figures who roamed the Garden.

And yet, despite your differences or maybe because of them, you felt natural around each other. Conversations flowed without effort, even in their silences. He could sit beside you, offering no more than a teasing smirk or a dry comment, and you wouldn’t feel the need to fill the quiet with needless words. Somehow, it was enough just to share the same space, like two stars orbiting the same unseen gravity.

Perhaps it was the way you each carried something hidden beneath the surface, something you rarely shared with others. Sukuna, for all his bluster, carried a weight in his eyes, a history that lingered in the way he sometimes stared into the distance, his smirk slipping into something more thoughtful. You had your own burdens, your own doubts, ones you tried to shield behind polite smiles and quiet resolve.

It wasn’t that you talked about those things. At least not directly. But there were moments, fleeting and unguarded, where the weight of what you both carried seemed to align. In those moments, you’d catch him watching you, his gaze softer than usual, as though he saw through the walls you’d built. And you knew, somehow, that you could see through him too.

Even when your worlds didn’t overlap most of the time. When his passions and his sharp-edged confidence clashed with your quieter, more careful nature, there was still some well founded common ground in the simplicity of understanding. There was no judgment between you, no need to prove yourselves to one another.

Sukuna didn’t try to push you into his shadow, and you didn’t shrink from the light he cast. And perhaps, that’s what you liked the most about him. He didn’t change anything with how he treated you or how he interacted with you. He was just himself. And you were just who you were. 

For all the chaos and politics surrounding the Garden, where alliances shifted like the wind and friendships often felt transactional, what you had with Ryomen Sukuna was refreshingly uncomplicated. It wasn’t about competition or gaining favor. It was just... real.

And maybe that’s why, despite having little in common, you felt natural with him. You didn’t need to explain yourselves to each other. Somehow, you just knew.That was for the better, if you were truly saying it bluntly. 

The shimmering beauty of Anakt Garden couldn’t hide its truth: it was a terrifyingly stifling place. Every moment was monitored, every move scrutinized by the alien caretakers. Their intentions were kind, but their constant observation weighed heavy, leaving you feeling like a butterfly pinned under glass.

Ryomen Sukuna hated it. He wouldn’t even be here if his guardian wasn’t insistent on making use of him like a pet who made him a lot of money— of course, just as much to isolate him from the scandals and troubles he creates as a performer. 

You heard rumors about all of that, but you weren’t sure if they were true. You don’t want to cross a boundary with Sukuna, something he was unwilling to talk about as much as something he never truly decides to talk to you about. 

But it was obvious in all the other ways, you suppose. You could see it in the way his jaw tightened whenever the caretakers hovered too long, their cold, clinical voices reminding you to stay on schedule, to follow their precise instructions. He never said anything outright in their presence, but the tension in his body was impossible to miss. His hands would curl into loose fists, his eyes narrowing like he was fighting the urge to lash out. 

It wasn’t just their commands that grated on him—it was their entire approach. The way they treated you, and everyone else in the Garden, as projects, toys to play with rather than souls who deserve respect. 

To this part of the galaxy, human children were their tools to be honed, performances to be perfected. You didn’t need to ask how he felt about it; his disdain was evident in every clipped word and icy glare he threw their way and how much he does not care for their discipline and in the worst cases, punishment.

You worry about him, about his defiances. But you know he’s been through this before, and he was a veteran. Ryomen Sukuna has lived through the experience. You could see it in his eyes, how much he hated the Garden. And just as much, how much he hated how this is affecting you. He hated seeing you go through this too.

One evening, after a particularly grating session where the caretakers had spent far too long critiquing your pitch and posture, you found Sukuna waiting for you under one of the glowing trees in the Garden. The soft luminescence of the tree’s branches cast him in an almost ethereal light, though the storm cloud brewing in his expression was anything but serene.

He didn’t say anything at first as you approached slowly, just patted the ground beside him in an unspoken invitation. You sat, letting out a long sigh, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders.

“They don’t get it.” Sukuna muttered finally, breaking the silence. His voice was low, angry, but there was an edge of frustration that wasn’t entirely aimed at the caretakers. “They think they can mold us into their stupid little visions.”

You glanced at him, his face partially obscured by the shadows of the tree’s light. “Maybe that’s just how they think things work.” you said softly, even though you didn’t fully believe your own words. “They’re just trying to help us... be better.”

Sukuna snorted, his lip curling into a derisive smirk. “Help? Is that what you call it, little lamb? Barking orders, telling you to strip everything raw until there’s nothing left but their idea of ‘perfect’? Yeah, really helpful.”

You didn’t reply right away. There was truth in what he said, he knew it more than you. That was the truth of that. But the caretakers had a way of making you feel like you couldn’t question them, like they knew what was best. 

And even then, you were the one who wanted to be here in the first place. You had asked Starlight to let you be on that stage, happily so. You wanted to sing for the universe. For all the galaxies to see and hear. You chose your poison, your suffering. You had to make your bed and deal with it too.

Sukuna turned to you then, his sharp gaze piercing through your silence. “You’re already perfect, okay? Don’t listen to them, little lamb.” he said, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “They just can’t see it.”

The words caught you off guard, scarlet warmth rising to your cheeks despite the weight in your chest. “I’m not... I mean, I’m trying to be better.” you stammered, looking away. “I want to be good enough.”

He leaned closer, his expression softening just a fraction. “Good enough for who? Them? You think their approval is worth breaking yourself over?”

You hesitated, your hands fidgeting in your lap. “I just... I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Sukuna’s jaw tightened again, but this time his anger felt different. You were good at reading his emotions by now. You had seen his eyes too much to not know what they felt. And when it comes to you, they shine with a protective glow almost all the time. 

“Listen to me, little lamb.” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’re not some tool for them to shape, alright? You’ve got something real, something no one else has. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

You met his gaze, unsure of how to respond. There was something raw in his expression, something that felt startlingly vulnerable. For all his bravado, Sukuna wasn’t just angry for the sake of it, he never was. You knew him too well for you not to know that. He genuinely cared.

“Thank you, ‘kuna.” you said quietly, the word feeling small but sincere.

He leaned back against the tree, his smirk returning, though it was softer this time. “Don’t thank me yet. Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t let them dim your light. You’re better than their rules, their schedules. You’re better than all of it.”

His words settled over you like a protective shield, bolstering you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. And as the glow of the tree cast shifting patterns across the ground, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. You want to start thinking that maybe he was right. Maybe you didn’t need their version of perfection. Maybe you could find your own.

With each passing day, his company as much as his protectiveness became your anchor in the Garden’s isolating world. When the pressure of always being watched felt too heavy, Ryomen Sukuna was there to remind you that you weren’t alone. He had a way of drawing you out of your own thoughts, pulling you into his world where the rules didn’t seem to matter.

He started making you little gifts, sometimes when it was the get together activities. He was crude about it but you found that he does endearing work for delicate, endearing things by his own hand for you. He was good at it, with how he cobbled together from whatever he could find around the Garden.

Today, it was a bracelet made of woven grasses that glowed faintly in the dark. A carved fragment of one of the brazenly bright trees, etched with symbols and letters that only he could explain. You gasped as he showed it to you once he was finally done. 

"It’s a good luck charm, little lamb. It’s all written in a human language, from long ago. " he said to you tenderly, pressing a small, smooth stone into your hand. It was warm, as if it had been sitting in sunlight. "To keep you safe. You need it here."

But sometimes, it wasn’t just those he gave to you. Sukuna would sometimes write you songs, too. He was more advanced with that than you in his classes. It’s why he sometimes gets bored attending the classes. Sometimes he also teaches you, when there are things that confuse you about the lessons or if they are going too fast.

Sometimes it was hard to read through it all. His thoughts go by so fast that he ends up writing without thinking about it. You giggle sometimes when he hands you page after page to go through them. They were always good songs, of course they were. But his writing was always something that was ever so special about it all. 

But his handwriting was messy, scrawled on scraps of paper or even on his own arm when he ran out of space. He would get flustered about it sometimes, too. But you never chastised him for that. If anything, it was because he was born a genius of music. 

He was born to create melodies that could move anyone in this life—human or alien. His music wasn’t just sound; it was an experience, a force of nature. It’s why he was a favorite of so many who tuned into Alien Stage. 

His songs weren’t polished or rehearsed to the point of sterility. No, they were raw, defiant, and unapologetically alive. Every note, every lyric burned with fire, passion, and a kind of honesty that left no room for pretense.

And yet, for all their intensity, nothing could compare to the moments when he sang just for you. In those moments, the wild edges of his music softened. The defiance was still there, but it felt different. Everything about it was more tender, like an ember rather than a roaring flame. 

When he played his guitar, the ink on the page didn’t seem as smudged, the chords didn’t feel as jagged. It was as though the very essence of the music shifted, reshaping itself into something gentler, something just for you.

When he sang for you, it wasn’t about proving anything or conquering the stage. It wasn’t about anyone else. It was personal. It was for his little lamb. And his little lamb, who was the softest voice that tendered anyone’s soul, he was sure to want to do the same. He wanted to make your soul a little less heavier in this stifling place.

“You bring out the quiet in me, little lamb.” he admitted one night, his voice low and almost shy, a stark contrast to his usual boldness. 

The two of you sat together under the alien sky, its vibrant hues dancing like living brushstrokes across the horizon. His guitar rested idly on his lap, his fingers brushing absentmindedly over the strings.You tilted your head, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his tone. 

“You? Quiet? I don’t believe it, ‘kuna.” you teased, grinning as you nudged his shoulder.

He smirked, though there was an unmistakable softness in his expression. “Don’t get used to it, little lamb.” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching into something halfway between a grin and a pout. “I’ve got a reputation to keep for all the galaxy, you know.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, I’ll treasure it while it lasts, then. The great Sukuna, soft-spoken and sweet. Who would’ve thought?”

“Careful, now.” he warned, though there was no bite in his words. “Keep talking like that, and I might have to write a song about how annoying you are.”

You gasped in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over your chest. “Annoying? Me? I’m the one inspiring all this ‘quiet’. I’d like to correct you on that, thank you very much.”

“Fair point, little lamb.” he conceded, chuckling as he leaned back on his hands. He glanced at you then, his crimson eyes catching the light of the sky, and for a moment, he looked at peace. 

“I always make good points.” You giggled back at him.

“But don’t go thinking this is all for you.” he added, his voice playful but his gaze lingering on yours. “It’s just... easier when you’re around. The chaos doesn’t feel so loud.”

Your laughter softened, fading into a gentle smile. “Maybe it’s because you don’t have to be anything but yourself when you’re with me.”

He stilled, his expression unreadable for a moment, before he let out a quiet hum. “Yeah, I suppose.” he said finally, almost to himself. “Maybe that’s it.”

And as the vast expanse of the foreign sky shimmered above you, you couldn’t help but think that whatever quiet he found in your presence, it was mutual. Something about him, about these stolen moments, made the rest of the universe feel distant and unimportant. It was just you, him, and the melody he always seemed to carry.

For just a moment, the Garden didn’t feel so heavy tonight.

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YOU WERE SURPRISED AT YOUR PROGRESS. Just as much, everyone else was too. The caretakers and the teachers began to notice the shift in you. It was impossible for them not to. Your voice had grown stronger, more confident, and your performances carried a depth they hadn’t seen before from you.

They praised you for your progress, their clinical smiles and approving nods a stark contrast to their usual detached demeanor. But their accolades rang hollow. They had no idea that their rigid schedules and suffocating structure weren’t the reason for your growth. It wasn’t their drills or corrections that had helped you blossom. All that work was done by Ryomen Sukuna.

When you felt like the weight of their expectations was too much to bear, Sukuna was the one who reminded you of the fire burning within you. When doubt crept into your mind, whispering that you’d never be good enough, it was Sukuna who sat with you under the glowing trees and told you to keep going.

“They can watch us all they want, little lamb.” Sukuna said to you, with a furrowed brow. 

But then he yawned, his head resting against the false bark. His fuschia hair caught the golden light filtering through the Garden’s strange sky. He was exhausted from the evaluations today, he was up longer than some of the other kids. So after all that, all he wanted to do was sleep.

He leaned against a twisted, luminous tree, arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced by something fiercer, more protective. He wasn’t there for your evaluations, but with how the results came out — he had a right to reassure you. 

You had barely made the top ten of the class. And that terrified you. Being top ten meant that you wouldn’t suffer more remedial classes. You were already exhausted from practicing all month for the evaluations. You didn’t need a repeat of it again.

Sukuna did not believe in the ranking for the evaluations. If anything he hated it. He may have been at the first place mark now, but this doesn’t mean that it meant anything. It wasn’t any of the teachers who will give you points at the live shows. It would be the audience. What the audience wants is often not what the teachers like.

“They’ll never understand what you’re capable of.” He tells you brazenly. “And I’ll make sure they don’t break you. Don’t worry about that.”

You looked up at him, his words stirring something deep inside you. “You really think I can do it?” you asked, your voice quieter than you intended.

His gaze softened, the fire in his crimson eyes still blazing but tempered with something gentler. “I don’t think so. I know.” he said firmly, stepping closer to you.

“I just….” You purse your lips into a small line, lowering your gaze.

“You’ve got more heart in your little finger than any of those caretakers have in their whole soulless existence. They’re just trying to shape you into what they think you should be. But you? You’re already enough. More than enough.”

You felt a lump in your throat, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “It’s hard sometimes.” you admitted, your voice wavering. “To keep believing in myself when they’re always... pushing. Always watching.”

Sukuna crouched down in front of you, his expression unusually serious. “Then stop doing it for them, little lamb.” he said, his voice low but unwavering. “Do it for you. Never for them. They’ll never understand joy the way you do about singing. They’re just a bunch of pricks who want to make money. You’re amazing, okay? You got that? ”

His words struck a chord in you, and you nodded, a small smile breaking through your doubt. “Yeah.” you whispered.

“Good.” he said, straightening up and offering you a hand. “Because when we’re out of here, the whole universe is gonna know your name. And I’ll be right there with you, making sure they hear you loud and clear.”

The idea of a life beyond the Garden. That was something you’d barely dared to dream of, but now it seemed suddenly felt tangible. With Sukuna by your side, with Starlight on the other side of you.

Somehow, with him, the Garden’s walls didn’t seem so high or so suffocating. You started to dream again. You wanted to dream again. Not just of performing for others but of living, truly living, free from the caretakers’ rules and expectations.

“You really think we’ll get out of here?” you asked one evening, as you both sat under the alien sky. “And be together?”

Sukuna leaned back on his elbows, gazing up at the shimmering lights above. “Of course we will,” he said confidently. “They can’t keep us here forever. And when we’re out, I’ll show you what real freedom looks like. No rules, no schedules, little lamb. It’ll be just us and the stars.”

You laughed softly, the sound carrying a mix of hope and longing. “Sounds like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream, little lamb.” he said, turning to look at you. “It’s a promise.”

And though the path ahead was uncertain, with obstacles and risks you couldn’t yet see, you knew one thing for sure: as long as Sukuna was with you, as long as his voice called you forward and his presence anchored you, you could face whatever came next. 

And so, life in Anakt Garden continued, the days blending together in a cycle of practice, observation, and fleeting moments of stolen freedom with Sukuna. The caretakers pushed you even harder, their teachings were continually becoming a relentless scrutiny that was even more suffocating than before.

They wanted perfection, polished and pristine, a voice that could embody the harmony they imagined humanity should be. After all, they wanted a good show. Perfection was the only way to make that good show happen. But you weren’t perfect by their standards. Neither was Sukuna, and you didn’t want to be — not anymore.

You just wanted to sing together with Sukuna forever.

"You ever notice how quiet it gets here at night?" Sukuna said one evening, lying beside you under the alien trees. The Garden's soft glow reflected in his sharp eyes, making them look like twin stars. "It’s too perfect. Like they’ve sucked all the realness out of this place."

You nodded, your chest heavy with the truth of his words. The Garden’s beauty often felt like a trap, a cage made of light and silence. Artificial as it may be, it at least provided some solace to you when the times were rough. 

"They think if it’s quiet enough, we’ll forget what it feels like to be loud." he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "But you and me? We shouldn’t be so willing to be quiet, you know?"

Those words stayed with you. And from that moment on, you started to see more of why Ryomen Sukuna was what he was to the caretakers and the teachers. He wanted to live. He wanted to be free. And the only way to be free was defiance. And you slowly but surely, you also became one with him in that too.

He began sneaking out of his quarters late at night to find you. Together, you’d climb the shimmering trees or sit on the glowing grass, whispering plans for the future. He talked about stages that stretched across galaxies, places where no one would tell you how to sing, where your voices could echo freely into the stars.

"I’ll write you the best songs, little lamb. Even better than what I already gave you." he promised to you. His tone was softer than usual. "Songs so good they’ll make the stars jealous."

“You are making quite big promises, don’t you think?” You tease him, giggling as you read over his newest piece. “This would make the stars jealous.”

"Yeah, because they’re our songs." he’d say, his smirk softening as he handed you another crumpled page. "No one else gets to have something as good as this. Not even the stars. Only you.”

“Only me?” Your eyes brightened at his words.

He smiled back at you once more. “Only you.”

But as much as Sukuna comforted you, you could see the way the Garden wore on him, too. The more you get to know him, the more he tells you about his experiences here. They were of course not going into all the details. He doesn’t want to regale you with sorrow.

Yet all that he says were consistent with his previous experiences. And each and every time he came back, he just hated it even more. The constant surveillance, the endless demands, the lack of freedom. It was like watching a wildfire struggle to burn in a room with no air. And no one was getting out without getting burned.

"They’re never going to let us leave, are they?" you asked him another night, the weight of the question pressing down on you like a stone.

Sukuna turned to you, his gaze fierce. "Not on our terms if they have their way, no. But that doesn’t mean we won’t get out."

"What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows quizzically at him. “Sukuna, what do you mean by that?”

He grinned, the kind of grin that sent a thrill down your spine because it meant he had a plan. "I’m working on something. Just... trust me, yeah?"

And you did. You always trusted him.

How could you not trust him?

He was all you had in this wretched place.

In the meantime, Sukuna never let the Garden take your spirit. When you were too tired to sing, he’d hum quietly for you, his voice a low, comforting rumble. When you felt trapped, he’d find a way to make you laugh. 

Sometimes there was a sly joke here and there. Sometimes a sarcastic comment, or even an impromptu, over-the-top performance that earned him a scolding from the caretakers. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was that you smiled.

"You keep me sane, you know that?" you told him one night, the two of you leaning against each other beneath the alien sky.

"Good." he replied, his voice soft but steady. "Because you keep me grounded too."

You liked to think that when he smiled then, you realized you loved him.

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THIS WAS NOT WHAT YOU HAD IMAGINED IT TO BE. You had not wanted this to happen, not ever. But it has. You willingly walked into this stage. But you didn't know any better. You didn't know.

Alien Stage was supposed to be your moment, the culmination of all the practice, dreams, and songs you had poured your soul into. And yet, this was not the truth. It never was.

As you stood in the staging area, waiting for your name to be called, your chest felt tight. No, you don’t think it was the nerves. No, it had to be something darker. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

You could see it in Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes too. That pool of dread. That horror. He didn’t say anything outright, but his normally fiery demeanor had simmered into something quieter, sharper. As you waited, he stayed close, his presence grounding you in the chaos of the moment.

When your name echoed through the chamber, the sound bouncing off the crystalline walls like a bell tolling for the inevitable, Sukuna reached out without hesitation. His hand found your arm, his grip firm, almost desperate, as though letting go would send you spiraling into the unknown forever.

"Hey." he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. It lacked the usual bravado, the teasing edge you’d grown so used to. Instead, it carried something raw, something unguarded. "No matter what happens out there… sing. Don’t stop. Make sure you sing well. You have to win. Okay?"

His words were sharp and urgent, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. You nodded, but confusion flickered across your face. Ryomen Sukuna had never been this way with you before—so vulnerable, so unlike his usual self.

"Okay." you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered. "I will. I promise."

He didn’t let go, not right away. His grip loosened slightly, his thumb brushing your sleeve in a way that felt almost absentminded. You could feel your breath quiver at his touch, you looked at him for a moment, trying to take it all in. All of him in.

"Okay." he muttered, his eyes dropping for a brief moment before meeting yours again. "Sing as hard as you can. I’ll be here. Waiting for you. No matter what.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a cloak, warm and heavy. "Sukuna… why are you saying this now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk returned, but it was softer this time, tinged with something that looked suspiciously like worry. "Someone has to tell you that they’re waiting. I have to. So you’ll come back.”

You blinked, a small laugh escaping you despite the tension. “I’ll always come back. You know that.”

You could see his jaw tighten at your words. “Yeah. I know.”

The announcement once again rang out for the start, perhaps even louder this time, signaling your final call. He finally let go of your arm, his hand lingering just a second too long before he stepped back.

"Go, little lamb." he said, his voice firmer now. "Show them what you’ve got."

As you turned to walk toward the stage, the gravity of the moment hit you. His words, his touch, his uncharacteristic vulnerability. You know that they weren’t just about the performance. They were about you. About everything you’d worked for, everything you meant to him, even if he couldn’t quite say it outright.

You glanced back one last time and saw him standing there, arms crossed, his fiery red hair catching the strange, otherworldly light. His smirk had returned in full, but his eyes gave him away. No, there was hope there. And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of fear.

And as you stepped onto the stage, the lights blinding and the crowd’s anticipation palpable, you felt a strange sense of calm. You didn’t know why. But you could only look at it later as the calm before the storm that would change your life forever.

The space was nothing like the vibrant, celebratory arenas you’d imagined. It was stark and sterile, the kind of place that drained warmth from the air. The floor was smooth and reflective. You think that you could see your reflection if you look hard enough.

The audience or what passed for one was a collection of alien beings and floating orbs, their glowing forms pulsating with eerie rhythm. It was also broadcasting live all over the universe and even into the other galaxies. 

Across from you stood your opponent. He was about your age, his dark hair messy, his expression somewhere between fear and resignation. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but the moment passed, and the caretakers began their cold instructions.

"The match begins now." one of them announced.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as the first note left your lips. The song you sang wasn’t what they’d wanted from you. It was the rigid, controlled melodies drilled into you during practice. Instead, you poured everything into the song, letting your voice carry the raw, unfiltered emotions you’d kept hidden. Fear, hope, defiance—it was all there, spilling out into the room.

Your opponent responded, his voice trembling but undeniably beautiful. It wasn’t a battle just yet, no. In that moment, it was a conversation between lovers, having a desperate exchange to bring back a love that was near the end of its lifetime.

You sang as hard as you could, as well as you could. And you didn’t stop. But soon enough, it ended just as fast as it began. The moment the last notes faded, the orbs above began to glow, casting their silent judgment. A brilliant light radiated from your side of the stage, signaling the tally of the votes to announce your victory.

For a heartbeat, you felt relief—until you saw your opponent’s face.

His eyes widened in terror as a column of light descended from above, surrounding him in an otherworldly glow of bright red neon lights. And then you heard the gunshots. You reached out instinctively, a scream tearing from your throat, but it was too late. The light consumed him. Soon enough, it was his blood pooling down the stage.

Just a moment ago, he was something.

And now, he lay there dead, nothing.

Nothing but a pile of blood and death.

You stumbled back, your legs giving out as you collapsed to the cold, unforgiving floor. Your hands trembled, clutching at nothing, your voice gone as the weight of what had just happened crushed you. Your eyes were trembling, you couldn’t look away from what once was a living being.

Someone had approached, their serene tone in sharp contrast to the horror you felt. "Congratulations to you." they said. "You have advanced to the next round."

The words barely registered. All you could think about was the boy’s face, his fear, his voice, now silenced forever. You wanted to scream, you wanted to shout. You wanted to tell them that an innocent young boy was killed for losing, and how horrid that is. There was nothing else you could do, as they ushered you away from the sweltering blood pouring down from the stage to the audience below.

When they led you off the stage, Sukuna was waiting. His scarlet eyes locked onto yours, and in that moment, he didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew, you didn’t have to tell him. And yet just as much, the answer was written all over your face. You don’t want to talk about it.

"They killed him, didn’t they?" he asked, his voice low, trembling with restrained fury.

You nodded, the motion barely perceptible as your body shook. Sukuna’s hands balled into fists, his jaw tightening as he pulled you into a fierce embrace. Your tears started to flow against his shoulder as you rested your chin against it. 

"I should've told you to run away. I should have stopped you." he muttered, his voice cracking. "I should’ve gotten you out of here before—"

His words broke off, replaced by a heavy silence. For a long time, neither of you moved. You clung to him, your breaths shaky and uneven, his arms a shield against the unbearable truth that the stage wasn’t about music or talent or dreams. 

It was a death sentence.

This is what the aliens at Starlight’s home would be excited about. This is what they gush over their human pets, children— would be doing. They would sing and they would lose and they would die. For entertainment. And you hated it. The thought of it all made you want to hurl everything in your stomach.

"They never told us." you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. "They never said what this was."

Sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, his scarlet eyes blazing with anger. But then there was regret. And then guilt. And then anger once again, for himself. For his stupidity.

He didn’t tell you anything either. He should have. Why didn’t he? Why didn’t he tell you? He was complicit in robbing you of your innocence. He was complicit in your grief. And even soon, your loss of life.

"They never tell how it happens. Now it’s guns.”

"But... why?"

"Because they can," he said bitterly. "Because we’re just pieces in their game."

For the first time, Ryomen Sukuna didn’t have a plan, and didn't have an answer for how to fix this. He didn’t know what to do, now that you had been robbed of what made you who you were,  your humanity. Yet, all he had was you, and all you had was him.

But as you sat there, wrapped in his arms, something began to harden in you. The Aanakt Garden’s beauty, the caretakers’ promises, the Stage’s allure—it was all a lie. It will always be a lie.

It will always be a place where the cattle grows and gets ready for the slaughter. While the whole galaxy could watch. And now, you couldn’t unsee it. Now you can’t escape it. Neither could Sukuna.

"We’re getting out of here." he said finally, his voice steady but laced with steel. "I don’t care how, but we’re not staying in this hell."

And in that moment, you liked to think you believed him.

If anyone was going to get out, you think, it would be Sukuna.

And yet, that ugly feeling in your gut told you — no one escapes this.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE PLAN WAS AIRTIGHT, AT LEAST IT SEEMS LIKE IT. Or rather as close as it could be when desperation was your main driving force. There was some time before the next stage, where Sukuna was going to face another opponent. 

And so in that time, Ryomen Sukuna had spent weeks mapping out the routines of the caretakers and teachers, and the additional security and studying their movements and making an accurate layout of the Anakt Garden. He whispered the plan to you late at night under the glowing trees, his voice steady despite the fire in his scarlet eyes.

"We’re getting out of here, little lamb." he’d said. "I’m not letting them keep us locked up like this."

You trusted him completely. You always have. Sukuna had always been your anchor, your protector in this wretched place. He was your salvation, and he will continue to be. You will escape with him. And you will see Starlight again. And you would be free, together. That was the plan. 

But not all plans will go your way. No. Not at all. If anything, things will always go awry. Almost immediately, someone notices. And almost immediately, the meticulous plan that had been  compromised. The alarm rings from one hall to another. And you hadn’t noticed it yet.

As you ran through the dimly lit corridors of the facility, Ryomen Sukuna leading the way with his usual reckless confidence, alarms blared. The sound pierced through the still air, loud and jarring. Your heart pounded as alien drones descended downward, their glowing forms moving with terrifying precision.

"Go!" Sukuna shouted, his voice sharp with urgency as he shoved you ahead. "I’ll hold them off!"

"No! Sukuna!" you cried, grabbing his arm. "We do this together!"

But the drones were faster. Before you could react, one of them fired a net-like energy beam that wrapped around you, pinning your arms to your sides. Sukuna roared in rage, lunging at the drone, but another blast struck him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Run!" you screamed, but he didn’t listen. 

Ryomen Sukuna never listened when it came to you.

Almost immediately after that, they had dragged you both back. And the Garden was on a lockdown. It was evident with how the glow of their containment fields cast an eerie light over the corridors, along the fully locked halls and pathways. 

The cold, unyielding walls of the facility pressed in around you, each step back toward the Garden feeling heavier than the last. And you hated it. You absolutely hated it. But you hated even more that Ryomen Sukuna could not look you in the eye.

Sukuna was truly bitter about the failure.

Grievous because you were still here, trapped.

Mournful because both of you could have been free.

When you arrived, Ryomen Sukuna’s alien guardian was waiting. Starlight had always been stern, but Sukuna’s guardian was something else entirely. You were scared of them almost instantaneously. 

They were a towering, cold figure with a presence that seemed to sap the air from the room. Its form shimmered with an intense, otherworldly energy, and their piercing gaze locked onto Sukuna the moment he entered in his presence. Just as much as their fist locked against his human pet’s jaw.

"You reckless little fool." the alien hissed, its voice a low, vibrating hum that resonated in your chest. "Do you understand what you’ve done?"

Sukuna spat blood onto the floor, his red eyes blazing with defiance. "Yeah. I tried to leave. And I’d do it again."

The alien’s form seemed to darken, its glow pulsing angrily. "You endangered everything. Your place here, your future—her future!" It turned its piercing gaze on you, and you shrank back instinctively. “You got sent here to straighten yourself and now you punish someone else with you? What a wretched bastard you are, aren’t you?”

"Leave her out of this." Sukuna growled, stepping in front of you despite his injuries. "If you’ve got a problem, it’s with me."

The tension in the air was suffocating, heavy with unspoken threats and the sharp bite of inevitability. The alien stood before you both, its shimmering form radiating an icy menace that cut deeper than its words. Its gaze was fixed on Sukuna, unyielding and cold, like a predator sizing up its prey.

"I warned you," the alien said, its voice devoid of the warmth it had once feigned, now reduced to a blade of frigid authority. "Just like last time. This is not a place for rebellion. It is a place of purpose, a place of order. I sent you here for that purpose. Because you’re a wretched little fool who likes trouble. And still—still—you defy any sense."

Sukuna’s laugh was sharp, bitter, and defiant, like shards of glass scattering across the floor. "And what’s the consequence, huh?" he spat, stepping forward despite the guards already inching closer. His crimson eyes burned with a rage that even the alien seemed wary of. "You’ve already threatened to kill me before. You should just do it, goddamn it. Kill me already and free me from my misery."

The alien tilted its head, as if considering the words, and then its gaze shifted to you. The moment it did, the air seemed to chill further, and your stomach twisted into knots.

“Then I should kill the girl too.” it said, its tone as casual as discussing the weather.

“You will do no such thing, sir.” One of the caretakers speaks up, as Sukuna’s guardian looks to them. “You cannot touch the property of another.”

“Surely it doesn’t matter.” His alien speaks once again, looking at you. “I doubt this girl’s alien will have any trouble replacing her–”

“No!” The word tore from your throat before you could stop it, fear coursing through you like ice.

Sukuna’s reaction was instant, explosive to your fear. His eyes widened, but only for a heartbeat before narrowing with unrestrained fury. He lunged toward the alien, his movements wild, reckless. With an intent to kill.

"You bastard! I’ll tear you limb from limb if you ever DARE touch her!”

But the guards were ready. They seized him before he could even get close, their metallic hands clamping down on his arms with a force that made you wince. He struggled against them, snarling like a caged animal, his red hair wild and his expression murderous.

“Let me go!” he roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You think you can threaten her? You think I’ll let you? I’ll kill you with my bare hands!"

“I’m telling you again, sir.” The alien caretaker says once more. “You cannot touch another alien’s property without them knowing. You are not their owner. You cannot punish them without their owner’s approval.”

The alien remained unfazed with what the caretaker said, its gaze shifting between you and Sukuna like a judge deliberating a sentence. They snicker at the caretaker’s words, narrowing his gaze to your frightful look. “Very well. Take my own to his sleeping cell.”

“I won’t let you! Not this time!” Sukuna screams like a wildman.

Sukuna struggles against the guards. He nearly gets away, but is quickly apprehended. He growls as he tries to attack them from the side, but they tackle him to the ground. You tried to approach him, but the caretaker pulled you away. Sukuna’s guardian lowers themselves to look at him, eye to eye.

“You will learn, you brat.” They said finally, its tone edged with finality. “Both of you will learn. Separately.”

The word hit you like a blow. 

Separately. 

“No, no.” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, you can’t—”

The alien ignored your protests, gesturing sharply to the guards. "I can do what I want. He is mine.” He looks at Sukuna again and snickers. “We shall have a good conversation, won’t we? Take him. Lock him where his fire can burn no one but himself."

"Sukuna!" you screamed as they dragged him away.

He fought against them with everything he had, his voice a feral growl. You too struggle against the caretaker, but no matter how much you both tried to pull from the gravity of separation, you tried to get closer. Yet it was for naught, as they managed to pull him away from your proximity. Your tears started to fall once more.

“I’ll find you!” he shouted, his eyes locking onto yours even as he was forced through the doorway. “Don’t give up! I’ll find you—I swear!”

And then he was gone.

His guardian follows behind him.

And you knew, you knew what he’ll endure.

You stood frozen, trembling, the caretaker alien’s presence looming over you like a shadow. Its gaze turned back to you, assessing. You looked to the ground, not wanting to show them the tears you were spilling for Sukuna.

“You should hope his words are hollow.” they said, its voice dripping with cold disdain. “Because hope will only destroy you.”

And with that, it turned and left, leaving you standing alone in the silence of the chamber. The absence of Sukuna’s fiery presence felt like a void threatening to swallow you whole. But even in the stillness, his last words echoed in your mind, a flicker of warmth against the growing cold. Don’t give up. I’ll find you.

And no matter what, you held on to that promise.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THEY WERE FORCING EVERYONE TO WATCH THE NEXT ROUND. But you knew that they were doing this especially for you. You knew they were. It was Sukuna’s performance on the stage that day.

And you could see how exhausted he was, how brutalized his soul was. At some points, purple shade was peaking through his costume. You knew what that meant. And that had made you weep. 

His performance had left the entire arena in a stunned silence. The lights above flickered dimly, casting long shadows that stretched across the cold, metallic floor. The haunting, heavy lyrics that poured from his lips didn’t just fill the air. Each and every word was him, each and every semblance of harmony belonged to him,

Everyone in that arena was consumed by it. Each and every note shifts the energy in the room, warping everything around him. His voice, raw and unrelenting, bled emotion. All his pain, sorrow, fury and in every word, there was a piece of him. A piece that he hadn’t shown anyone before. A piece of him that you knew and now were knowing even more.

You stood just out of sight, as caretakers wanted.You stayed hidden in the shadows just below the arena, watching as Sukuna let the song carry him. You could see the strain in his expression, the way his jaw clenched with each line.

It was as if he was born to be the song. It was as if the words themselves were a personal confession to all that were watching him The black sorrow he sang about wasn’t just an abstract emotion; it was something he had lived, something that clung to him like a second skin.

The first verse seemed to echo a truth he’d carried with him since the beginning of your time together. There was always a distance between him and everyone else. He had always been the outsider, the one who didn’t belong. 

And yet, in the quiet darkness of the stage, there was you—his closest companion, the person who understood the weight of his heart. The loneliness in his voice spoke volumes: he wanted to reach someone, but there was always a wall between them, and that wall was made of sorrow, isolation, and the crushing weight of expectations.

He had sung like this for you before, in the quiet moments when he thought no one else was listening. But now, he wasn’t singing for you—he was singing for everyone. He wanted them to know his misery. He wanted them to know how much they had taken from him. 

This wasn’t just him pouring out his heart to you, no. It was also for the aliens who were taking in his siren’s song. For the aliens who had taken him from his home, for the caretakers who controlled his fate, and for himself.

The chorus rang out like the final bell of a war that had no victor—only casualties. He held the mic stand closer to him. The imagery was powerful, as he tilted his head to belt out the note. Each connecting harmony was like a deep, endless sea that threatened to swallow everything in its path. 

In that moment, as the echoes of Sukuna’s voice faded into the suffocating silence of the chamber you were in. There was a realization that struck you like a lightning bolt to the chest. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just fighting the system, the Garden, or the alien overlords who sought to mold him into their image. 

He was fighting something deeper, something far more insidious: the darkness that had been festering in his soul for far longer than you’d known him. That defiance, that fire that burned so brightly in him, wasn’t just rebellion. 

No, it was a shield. A desperate attempt to hold back the weight of his own despair. And you hadn’t understood it then. Not fully. Not until now.

Memories of him flooded your mind: the way he laughed like it was armor, the way he played his guitar like it was the only thing holding him together, the way he smiled—wide, cocky, and so achingly fragile if you knew where to look. 

That was that smile, wasn’t it, Sukuna? you thought bitterly, tears slipping down your cheeks unchecked. A smile that didn’t just hide pain but dared it to come closer, to strike harder. You didn’t have to face it alone, but you did. Again and again. Because you thought you had to.

Your legs gave out, and you crumpled to the ground, hands clutching at the fabric of your sleeves as if the motion could ground you. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the ache in your chest suffocating. 

"You wanted to die." you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of the truth. "You wanted to be free, to let it all end."

And then the thought hit you like a second wave of agony, sharp and relentless. And I was there. I was there, and you couldn’t help it. 

The tears came harder now, your sobs wracking your frame as you clutched your knees to your chest. You felt guilt, beyond what you should. He too made his choices. He made his choice to live with you. Even if it was making him suffer. But that guilt, you want to free him too. 

You want to be free with him. And how, that might not even happen. Not in this life. Even if you don’t want to give up, you don’t know how you’ll be able to keep this up. You wanted to be selfish with him too, to want him by your side for as long as you both lived. And yet, you don’t know what to do anymore as you listen to him sing more and more.

"You stayed." you choked out, the words meant for him even though he was no longer there to hear them. "You stayed… for me."

Your mind spun with the weight of it. Sukuna’s anger wasn’t just about rebellion or resistance. It was the fury of someone who had been forced to live a life they never asked for, over and over again, only to find a glimmer of something, or someone worth staying for. 

And that someone was you.

He chose you, only you.

In that moment, as the final notes faded into the silence, Ryomen Sukuna’s expression softened, just a fraction. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something in his eyes that told you he had given everything on that stage. He always will. Even if he didn’t want to.

The votes quickly came in.

He turned to his opponent. 

And he watched, his eyes cold.

The red spilled on his face.

Ryomen Sukuna had won the round.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

YOU STARED AT THE SCREEN. The days leading up to the next stage were filled with uncertainty, the tension thick in the air. Sukuna and you hadn’t spoken much since his performance, both of you retreating into your thoughts. 

The silence between you two was loaded, heavy with unspoken fears and doubts. Neither of you could shake the knowledge that things were escalating. The stakes were rising, and no one, not even Sukuna, could protect you from what was coming.

Then came the announcement.

The one that would change everything.

You were going to face each other.

This was the last few rounds. And these were the rounds where the most dangerous matches took place. A place where the brightest stars were either made or shattered, and where the strongest were left standing. The announcement echoed through the Garden, their cold voices coming over the loudspeakers, numbing you with their indifference. 

They didn’t care that you and Sukuna had a bond. Or that there was something more between you. They didn’t care about your shared past or your quiet moments of rebellion. Nor could they care about your wanting for freedom. None of that mattered to them.

To them, you were just pieces in a game, and now the pieces were being moved into position for the final battle. The moment you heard it, you froze. The words felt like ice, the truth of them setting in slowly, like a bitter poison coursing through your veins.

You and Sukuna were going to face each other.

You felt the world shift under your feet. Your body went numb as the weight of the situation began to sink in. But even in that moment of paralysis, you could hear the distant, familiar sound of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice—strong, fierce, and close. He was wearing a collar. That was something he had never worn before.

"Sukuna..." you whispered, your throat dry as you turned to face him. This was the first time you’ve seen him since you were parted. “I….”

He was standing near the edge of the arena, his posture rigid, his expression dark. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something far more serious. His eyes, usually sharp and calculated, were clouded with a deep, furious storm. He didn’t look like the same person who had stood on the stage with such confidence before.

Sukuna’s gaze locked onto you, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to read you, to understand the words he wasn’t yet hearing. But the words in your mind were loud and clear: you didn’t want this. You didn’t want to fight him. And you were pretty sure he didn’t want to fight you either.

"I won’t let you die." he growled, his voice low, but full of unrelenting anger. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, the muscles in his jaw twitching. You could see the frustration building in him, the same frustration you felt, but much more visceral, raw. 

"This isn’t some damn game. They’re trying to use us, twist us up into something we’re not." His breath was ragged as he took a step toward you, his gaze never wavering. "We’re not toys. I won’t let them take you from me. I swear."

You could feel your chest tighten as you watched him, your mind swirling with confusion. You didn’t want to fight him. You didn’t want to be a part of this blood-soaked game. But what choice did you have? What else was there left to do but survive?

"I don’t want to do this." you whispered, the weight of the situation sinking into your bones.

Sukuna’s expression softened for just a split second before the fire returned, burning brighter than ever. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you both with deliberate steps, his eyes searching your face. 

"Then don’t." he said, his voice steady now, though it was strained with emotion. "Just let me do what I can, alright? Let me figure it out.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was a way out, a way to escape this nightmare together. But deep down, you knew how this deadly game worked. You had seen the carnage before. And it's doubtful this will be the last. Not even his promises are enough to calm you down.

You had watched as real people were broken one after the other. Crushed under the weight of this deadly game, this stupid game you didn’t want to play. And you knew that in the end, it’s not likely to end. They don’t want it to end. They want to see the blood spill, so they may applaud.

But still, the desperation in his voice pulled at you, pulling you closer to him. There felt a horrible sense of finality. A finality you never wanted. Not with him. You don’t want it to end. Not ever. Not when it comes to loving him. 

Ryomen Sukuna had always been your protector, your anchor. But now, the roles seemed reversed. He was the one who needed saving, and you were the only one who could save him from the thing that haunted him. 

But the price is your death. You had to die to save him. To keep him from suffering. And the knowledge that he couldn’t protect you from this isn’t going to save him either. He wouldn’t let this happen. He doesn’t want to, either.

"I can’t lose you." Sukuna muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, but the pain in it was so raw that it sent a shiver down your spine. “I love you too much to let you go.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently, feeling the tension in his muscles as you tried to ground him, to remind him that you were here, and you were still alive. But the terror in his eyes told you everything you needed to know: this wasn’t just about survival anymore. It was about protecting each other from the very forces that had taken control of your lives.

“I love you too.” You whisper back to him, almost so brokenly. “I don’t want to let you go either. I don’t want to lose you.”

He shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening. "Not like this.We can’t lose each other like this.”

You tried to pull him closer, but the weight of the situation was too heavy. You could see it in his eyes—the guilt, the anger, the desperation. He couldn’t bear the thought of you being forced to fight him, to be torn apart in front of everyone. But what were your choices?

You both knew the truth. You could either submit to the rules and fight each other, or you could rebel against them, together. And if you did that, the price would be steep. Sukuna’s scarlet eyes softened, though the anger remained.

"Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked him softly. 

“For being the object of my affections.” He whispers to your ear, leaning forward to press a kiss on your cheek. “Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions. My love and my hatred. All of it.”

You looked at him for a moment before smiling, eyes getting watery. You could feel the warmth of his kiss sear on your skin, like a burn from the flame. Like a moth burning in the candlelight. You wanted more of him. You wanted more of his love. And his hatred. You wanted it all.

But there will never be enough time. 

There will never be another time.

You cannot escape this time, not like this.

“Thank you for letting me have all of them.” You whisper back to him.

He returns your smile. “It was my pleasure.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

SOON ENOUGH, THE STAGE WAS PELTED BY THE POURING RAIN. And still, they will continue this, no matter what. It had to end here. There was no other way out. The harsh, mechanical buzz of the arena’s lights flickered above you, and the air was thick with the weight of the moment. 

You were back on the stage, but this time, everything had changed. Everyone had their cold eyes watching from every angle. Everything was properly set by now, to the perfection of their wants. All that was left was the stage to have two people, singing for a deadly performance. 

The stage was set, the tension palpable in the air as the crowd held its breath. Everything around you shimmered with the anticipation of what was about to unfold. The lights dimmed, casting long shadows across the space, and then, the music began to play.

A haunting melody rippled through the speakers, its ethereal sound sinking deep into your bones. The notes wove together like a sorrowful tale, threading through the very air that surrounded you. It filled the chamber, wrapping itself around you like an inescapable fog. 

You could feel it—the weight of the lyrics, heavy with longing and sorrow. You sang them as they were. They spoke of parting, of loss, of moments slipping through your fingers like sand. It was as though the song had been crafted specifically for this moment, for this fight, for the end of something you never wanted to end.

You had expected the chaos, the passion, the defiance that always accompanied Sukuna’s performances. But now, as the music surged, something shifted. Sukuna, his scarlet eyes locked on yours across the stage, suddenly stopped singing. 

The notes faltered in the air, the rhythm stuttering as he stood still. His lips no longer moved in time with the music. The sharp edge of his voice, so used to biting, so full of fire—was gone. The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy.

Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from yours, but it wasn’t the usual sharp, cocky look. There was no defiance there. There was no challenge. There was no will to fight. Instead, there was only something far deeper, more painful. 

You had noticed it too late, how resigned he already was to this raw, aching realization that you both had reached the brink. The consequences of this moment, the weight of it all, had become far too real for him. You saw it in his scarlet eyes. That flicker of something that you knew was just for you. 

Something more human, more vulnerable, than you’d ever seen before. The walls he’d built around himself, the fire he had fought so hard to keep alive, all began to crumble, leaving him exposed in a way that made your heart ache. And then, against the cold droplets of rain that began to fall from the sky, Sukuna smiled.

It wasn’t the usual smug, arrogant grin you were so accustomed to. It was softer, almost bittersweet. It was the sort of smile that carried the weight of everything unspoken between you. That was a smile of adoration, that was a smile of hatred — that was the smile of devotion.

He stood there as you sang. It was as if the rain had washed away the last of his resistance, as if the music itself had torn down the walls that had held him together for so long.In that moment, you realized something. 

That smile—fragile as it was—wasn’t a mask. It wasn’t a challenge or a jest. It was surrender. Ryomen Sukuna had always been the one to defy the world, to push against everything that tried to contain him. But now, standing there in the midst of the storm, he was no longer fighting. He had accepted it all.

"I should’ve known." he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the soft rustle of the rain. The words were barely more than a whisper, but they carried a depth of emotion that took you by surprise. "I should’ve known that... this was always going to be the end. For both of us."

You heard him and you almost forgot your part in the song. You longed to say something—to tell him that there was still time, that you could still fight, that you didn’t have to end this way. But the words died on your throat. You continued to sing.

Because the truth was, you could see it too. The end was already written in the stars.You knew it too, you knew it too well. The inevitable was crashing toward you both, and no matter how much you fought it, it was going to happen.

Sukuna’s smile wavered as he watched you continue to sing. And for a moment, the man you knew, that man you loved, the fiery, untamable force….He was gone. He had let him die at that moment. All that remained was a broken man, drenched in rain, standing at the edge of something he couldn’t escape.

The music swelled again, but this time, it wasn’t just about the performance. It was about you both, about the fragile connection that had formed in the midst of all the chaos. The music no longer felt like a fight—it felt like a goodbye.

To him, this only ends one way. 

If someone must survive, it has to be you.

He all but abandons his space, the rain pouring even heavier than ever. You were surprised as he pulled you close to him. Tears and raindrops all over your face. He was quick to know which were tears and which were the rain. He smiled. The music continued to play in the background.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for your face, brushing away a tear that had escaped. The song continued to swell deeper and deeper, and his turn to sing was upcoming. But Ryomen Sukuna’s lips were no longer part of it. He doesn’t want it to be. He wanted to die the way he wanted to.

His mouth pressed against yours in a kiss that was raw and desperate, a kiss that spoke of goodbye, of all the unspoken feelings between you both. A kiss that felt like a last act of defiance, a refusal to be another pawn in their game.

For a fleeting moment, everything else disappeared. The noise of the arena, the eyes of everyone watching this, the weight of the stage—all of it melted away as you kissed him back, pouring every ounce of emotion into that single act. 

Your kiss was hard and angry, angry at him for choosing this route. Hard because you wanted him to feel your pain, the pain that he was leaving you with as you continued on to live. You pulled him even closer. You part to breathe but you pull him back in even more. You continued on and on until you couldn’t breathe anymore.

Soon enough the pelting of the guns started, there wasn’t even the neon red to warn you. They continued to shoot one after another. One to his shoulder, another to his back. But he kissed you back even more, his hands around your throat. As though to tell you his own pain in parting. More shots rang out, one after the other. 

As your lips parted, his expression hardened, scarlet eyes flashing with the finality of his decision. Blood pouring out his lips as he smiles at you, almost so hauntingly with his hands still wrapped around your throat with such eager tightness. 

"You have to live." he whispered, his voice rough, breaking. "You have to survive."

The bullets continued to tear through him, their cold, metallic scream louder than the music itself. His body jerked with each impact, his eyes wide with shock and pain as he staggered back, the warmth of the kiss he had given you still lingering on your lips, the taste of it bitter with the knowledge of what was coming. His rough, brutish hands slowly, and then finally off your reddening neck.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. Your long lost breath hitched in your throat as your entire world seemed to collapse in on itself. The music continued, relentless, as though mocking the pain in your chest. You wanted to scream, to stop them, but your voice was stolen by the sorrow that flooded your body.

Ryomen Sukuna crumpled to the ground, blood staining the stage beneath him, his chest rising and falling weakly, but his scarlet eyes never left yours. He wanted to look at you. He wanted you to keep looking at him. He was still there, still fighting, still telling you to live, even as life drained from him.

The music reached its climax, the voice of the singer rising in agony. Consume me, yes, me, oh, oh, the words rang out, but all you could feel was the sharp sting of your beloved’s corpse in front of you. The haunting notes continued as if nothing had changed, as if everything was still a game, but the truth was undeniable.

You cried out with everything in you, your desperate tears and the angry rain mixing with his blood on the stage, your heart breaking as you watched him slip away. Until he was finally gone. Until he was nothing but a bleeding flesh corpse in front of you. 

The music, now a distant, broken sound in your ears, felt like an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest. Each note seemed to draw the last remnants of air from your lungs, suffocating you as you stood frozen on the stage. 

Ryomen Sukuna's blood continued to stain the floor and mix into the water ceaselessly, pooling beneath him, but his scarlet eyes... his eyes that you so loved were still on you, still filled with the fire of a promise, a plea.

His last breath was shallow, but his expression never wavered. Live, his eyes said. Survive.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tear the entire world apart for what they had made of him, for the life they had stolen. But instead, you stood there, powerless. The caretakers' voices crackled through the speakers, indifferent to the tragedy they had orchestrated.

They had made you fight. They had made you kill. But Sukuna had chosen to fall for you. He had chosen to make sure you had the chance to escape the nightmare, even if it meant giving up his own life.

And the weight of that choice was too much to bear.

You were still there, staring at him, when they gave the signal. The arena, the very place where your blood had spilled—your tears mixed with the blood on the stage—was just another part of the system they controlled. 

Another place where they took away everything and gave nothing in return. The system that controlled your fate, controlled Sukuna's fate, was now turning its eyes to you. But in the midst of the flashing lights and the cold, sterile voices that told you to continue, that told you to perform, you made a decision. You weren't going to give them what they wanted. Not like this.

Your body trembled, but your heart, for the first time in so long, felt certain. You weren't just going to survive anymore. You weren’t going to let this system take everything from you, your life, your soul, your love for Sukuna, without fighting back.

You dropped to your knees beside him, the echo of his sacrifice reverberating through your chest. His body was still warm, still twitching with the last remnants of life, but you knew it was too late. He was gone.

But the part of him that lived. The part that had made sure you would survive. That was not lost. And that was something they couldn’t take. You didn’t care if they were watching. You didn’t care if they were observing your every move. 

You leaned over Sukuna’s body, placing a trembling hand over his heart, now still. And in that moment, something in you snapped, like a thread being pulled taut and finally breaking. The arena’s speakers crackled, and a voice you didn’t recognize spoke.

“Stage completion.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

The soft glow of the rising sun began to creep into the room, its warm fingers stretching across the floor, painting the walls with hues of gold and amber. The world outside was still, caught between the shadows of the night and the promise of a new day.

But here, in this quiet space, there was a peace that neither of you had ever known. The chaos of the alien stage, the endless battles, the pain, and the sacrifices—they all seemed distant, swallowed up by the serenity of the moment.

You lay there, your head resting on Sukuna’s legs, your body relaxed in the rare comfort of his presence. The rhythmic hum of your song, soft and almost hypnotic, filled the air.

It was a song that had become an anchor for both of you, a melody that whispered of things you had lost and things you still held dear. Your humming wrapped around him like a blanket, soothing the raw edges of his soul that had been scarred by too many years of violence.

Sukuna’s fingers, long and deft, traced the strands of your hair, moving slowly and deliberately, almost as though he were trying to carve this moment into his memory, like it was the only thing that made sense in a world that had long since turned upside down. His hand paused at the crown of your head, his fingers resting lightly as if afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile peace between you.

"You’re still humming, little lamb." Sukuna said.

You were surprised that his voice was unusually quiet, the words more of an observation than a question. His fingers toyed with the ends of your hair, curling a few strands around his finger and letting them slip through his grasp, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you. 

"You always sing when you’re... content."

You glanced up at him, your eyes still heavy with the warmth of sleep, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I always sing when I remember the good things." you whispered, your voice a soft murmur. "The things that make everything worth it."

Sukuna’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment, a brief glimpse of something that had always been there but was too buried beneath the armor he wore to ever show. His hand moved from your hair, trailing down the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. It was such a simple touch, but it carried with it more meaning than he had ever given to words.

"The good things?" His voice was low, almost hushed, as if he were afraid to disturb the peace between you. "What good things, huh?" He shifted slightly, his hand resting beside you now, his fingers grazing the surface of your skin.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of his touch sink in, the quiet rhythm of your song keeping the silence comfortable. You let the words come, not thinking about them too much, just allowing them to spill from your heart.

"The times when we didn’t have to fight." you said softly, almost to yourself. "When everything was simpler. When it was just us... and the world felt like it was still ours to take."

Sukuna didn’t speak at first, his gaze far away as if he were lost in his own thoughts. His hand didn’t move from where it rested on the side of your face, his thumb now gently stroking your skin as if trying to memorize the sensation. There was a vulnerability in his touch that he rarely allowed anyone to see, but in this moment, with the soft light of dawn spilling over the both of you, it felt right.

"You really believe in that?" he asked after a long pause, his voice quieter than it had ever been. "You really think we could ever go back to something... simple?"

The question hung in the air between you two, heavy with the weight of the years you had spent in the fight for survival. But there was something in the way his hand lingered on your cheek, something in the way he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you that made you smile again.

"I think….." you began, your voice steady. "We make our own simple things in life. We can decide to live in the good things, even if the rest of the world is falling apart around us."

Sukuna’s gaze softened, his features easing for a moment as if your words had found something deep within him, something he hadn’t known he was missing. He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken thoughts.

"You’re right, I suppose." he said quietly, his hand slowly shifting to the side of your head again, fingers gently threading through your hair. "Maybe... maybe we don’t have to fight all the time. Maybe we don’t have to live in the dark. Not if we don’t want to."

His words hung in the air like a promise, tentative but real. The two of you stayed there in the quiet, the hum of your song filling the space around you like a soft lullaby. The sun was fully risen now, and the light poured through the window, bathing the room in warmth.

The world outside might have been a battlefield, a place where survival meant everything, where love and peace seemed impossible. But here, in this moment, with Sukuna’s fingers tangled in your hair and the world reduced to the two of you, it felt like anything was possible. You could make your own good things, even if it was just for a little while.

"Stay with me, forever, ‘kuna." you murmured, the words almost too soft to hear, but he heard them all the same. You tilted your head up slightly, looking into his eyes. "Please, stay."

Ryomen Sukuna looked down at you, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, in a rare moment of honesty, he nodded, his voice steady. He lets out a small smile on his lips. A smile he always reserved warmly for you. Only you.

"I’m not going anywhere, little lamb." he said quietly. "Not if I don’t have to."

You smiled back at him. “Good.”

[skeletwinsauaskbox]

Welcome To The Skeletwins AU Ask Box!

Snowdin Adventures With The Skeletwins is a fanfiction AU-ish thing revolving around my two favourite comfort characters, Sans and Papyrus! Why is it an AU? Well, the only significant difference (as of right now) is that they're twins! As of right now, there's just the one main story, but there's also a few side stories you can check out here!

I've been inspired by other ask blogs to create my own based on this series! So here, you can ask the twins pretty much anything! Well... almost anything...

(Event: Sans and Papyrus have swapped fonts! Hooray! [Ends 1st July])

No explicit NSFW, please. Both brothers, as well as myself, are part of the asexual spectrum, but they're more on the sex-repulsed side of things. Dirty jokes that can go over kids' heads, however, are okay! But no advances, please! Let's keep this place lighthearted, yeah?

You are allowed to submit your own art of the brothers or Undertale in general, and the brothers will react to it! But like the rule above, please no NSFW art. That would be very much appreciated.

Submit as many questions as you'd like, but please be patient! You can DM me for a private chat if you want (some of you have already done that lol), but I won't always have time to answer.

I don't do ships unless it's a canon ship like Alphyne. But if you want to mention them, that's okay! Just try to steer clear of the more... problematic ones. You know which ships they are. If anything regarding those ships are submitted, neither me nor the brothers will answer it. Sorry!

To any minors that might come across here, don't worry, I will try to make this blog as safe as possible for you! But if anything involving stuff like references to alcohol or stuff like bad mental health or even the kill kill murder route in Undertale comes up, then those questions will be answered. Just a little warning there for you, that's all.

You're allowed to swear since I'm hoping there's no actual kids on Tumblr and teenagers swear all the time haha. Just please don't use any derogatory or offensive language. Let's keep this place as friendly as possible, ok? Oh, and the characters will be censored when they swear because funny. There are a few exceptions though.

A︎n︎y︎ a︎n︎s︎w︎e︎r︎s︎ i︎n︎v︎o︎l︎v︎i︎n︎g︎ Sans' project and the brothers' past will be deliberately left vague.︎ S︎o︎r︎r︎y︎ i︎f︎ y︎o︎u︎ d︎o︎n︎'︎t︎ l︎i︎ke︎ t︎h︎a︎t︎,︎ b︎u︎t︎ I︎ d︎o︎n︎'︎t︎ w︎a︎n︎t︎ t︎o︎ s︎p︎o︎i︎l︎ a︎n︎y︎t︎h︎i︎n︎g︎ t︎o︎o︎ s︎o︎o︎n︎.︎

Please try not to spam. I assure you, your questions do go through, I'll get to it eventually! I go from bottom to top usually, so please be patient. :)

Please do not try to cause events. An event will happen when I feel like doing one. Truth be told, while they're fun, they can be a little stressful sometimes, especially where there's a plot involved. So please don't try to cause one.

If you want to ask questions as an OC, that's okay! Anything to make you comfortable, after all. But as of right now, I'm not accepting any new roleplays whatsoever. There are some ongoing ones, but once those are finished, absolutely no roleplays. This is an ask blog, after all.

If you want to put the twins in your comics or stories, you can! Fanart is great too! But I would like it if you tag me if you decide to upload it to Tumblr, not only as credit, but so I can see your art too (and subsequently fangirl over them lol). If you want a guide, then you can take a look here!

Please read what characters are available for asks before submitting your questions. Check out the link to the guide in rule 11 to get a grasp of when the AU takes place. I should probably put out an information sheet, honestly. I might do that.

If you want to follow up on an ask that's already been answered, please provide a link to the previous message so I can know the context.

Have fun and be kind! :)

Anyway, now that's done, here are the list of characters you can ask!

Sans and Papyrus (of course!)

Alphys

Undyne

Mettaton

Napstablook

Grillby

Muffet

The K-9 Unit

Asgore

Any Snowdin Resident (yes, including Jerry [and Monster Kid!])

Characters you can leave questions for but they'll be answered later:

Characters you can't ask right now:

Flowey (he doesn't exist yet)

Toriel (Sans hasn't found the door yet)

Frisk (waaaaay too early for them)

Chara and Asriel (...)

If you don't want to read the fic, check here for their current situation!

Also make sure to check out @felletwinsauaskbox if you want to meet their Underfell counterparts (updates every Wednesday and Sunday)!

Anyway, here you go. Ask away!

[islandofsages]

Hey ! Can I ask for the Diasomnia boys reacting to a male!Ignihyde!reader who join the gargoyle club (idk if it's name) ?

Like, the reader is really just interest in the gargoyles, and isn't scare of Malleus (or anyone, really. Man is too tired for being scare.)

Ignore it if you don't want to write it.

Have a good day/night ! And happy new year too.

characters: diasomnia boys x male ignihyde reader

tags: platonic, canon compliant, fluff, imagines + scenario format; mentions of malleus in literally everything, lilia being a dad

warnings: none

author's notes: reader is so idgaf energy i love it. also i just remembered the small font feature exists LMAO do tell me if it's too small, i'll change it back to the original size!! if not, i'll change my previous posts to the smaller font. also you have a good day/night too anon ! and happy new year :D

Malleus Draconia

Oh? You want to join the Gargoyle Studies Club? You’re being serious? Oh!

Words cannot describe how happy he is about a fellow gargoyle appreciator though his expression doesn’t really show that

And to think you see him as just another dude… such honor was bestowed upon him…!

He’ll excitedly bring you to every gargoyle he’s found on campus and infodump about them - and you’d write them down somewhere if you’re in the mood

Sometimes you’d find new gargoyles and bring him to them and you start to do likewise

Even outside of club activities you two geek out about gargoyles at times which has earned you two the title of nerds

“Have I told you about the time I’ve met talking gargoyles? I never thought I would see such a day…”

Gargoyles aside, he has times where he confides his personal daily life in you and in turn, he’ll ask you what’s it like being in Ignihyde, etc

After being around each other so much, it feels weird when you guys aren’t together - some people would ask where Malleus is whenever you’re on your own, and vice versa

People found it weird how close an Ignihyde student is to someone from a different dorm too and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or not

But in a sense, Malleus really is your other nerdy half.

Sebek Zigvolt

You?????? Join the club where Malleus is president and is the only member of?????????

“WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE WORTHY OF JOINING SUCH A CLUB?”

Well, for one, the fact that you’re unfazed by his constant yelling and therefore probably too tired to be fazed by anything, consequently making you the perfect companion to Malleus because you wouldn’t react inappropriately to Malleus’ conduct

And that you actually are interested in gargoyles. That too. You tell all this to him

He clutches his head with one hand, debating your logic. You don’t know how and why but he accepts your argument

That doesn’t stop him from monitoring you two’s activities from afar but, again, you couldn’t care less. A sixteen year old’s fanatics is just part of the growing process

Outside of club activities, he interrogates you on what you’ve discussed with Malleus and you just tell him the truth: gargoyles

At some point, he gets so engrossed in your infodump about gargoyles his eyes shine with a new light

Of course, he mentions something about Malleus obviously liking something so interesting and befitting of his status - but he also thanks you for enlightening him on the topic and that he’ll go to you for more information if need be

You’ve converted him. You sometimes see him clutching a book about gargoyles around the school. It’s filled with notes sticking out of the pages. And a portion of that sometimes he’ll run to you to confirm about a fact or two

Maybe it’s safe to say you two are kind of friends now.

Silver

He doesn’t think too much of it other than being glad that Malleus finally has a fellow gargoyle fan he can geek out with

He’d see you and Malleus chatting it up around campus and he can’t stop the tender smile on his face from making an appearance

Sometimes he himself will try to strike up a conversation with you and gargoyle geek aside, he finds that you’re just a pleasant person to talk to and be around

He admits he’s not too close with any of the folks from Ignihyde aside for the Shroud brothers but you brush him off by saying that nobody is really

He also admires how you don’t really let anything get to you. Again, you shrug it off by half-joking that you’re too tired to be scared by anything at this point

He somewhat empathizes with you on that point, grieving over his narcoleptic tendencies with a heavy sigh

You try your best to cheer him up or if you have experience with such things, you give him advice on how to manage it

You then jest that he can tag along with you and Malleus’ club activities whenever he’s free if he wants. The more, the merrier, right?

He ponders it for a minute and nods. You didn’t think he’d actually accept the offer

“I don’t see a reason to refuse. Sebek and I have accompanied Malleus on his trips before. I’m sure this time around will be more fun with you here.”

And so you all do. You all have a royal time together - and the joy on Silver’s face is especially princely.

Lilia Vanrouge

He sheds (crocodile) tears at the thought of Malleus finally having an additional member in his one-man club more friends

Since you’re chill about it, he is too! As long as you get along with Malleus, everything will be fine and dandy

If anything, he’s a bit impressed by how it takes more than the average amount to gain a reaction out of you 

…and a bit concerned. Are you sure you’re getting enough nutrients? His paternal instincts kick in when you tell him you’re too tired to have a reaction to anything

He knows that Ignihyde students are mostly shut-ins but he still advises you and makes sure you get a balanced diet

It’s like he’s adopted yet another son

“Oh, (Y/N), you really ought to take care of yourself more.”

You grow a bit annoyed at him sometimes but you know his intentions are good so you don’t protest

You do feel very loved though. You didn’t expect this much from just joining a club for a topic you’re genuinely interested in

But you have to admit it is kind of hard to come by people who aren’t intimidated by the Malleus Draconia, even if you don’t see it as anything special

What’s special, though, is the affection Lilia holds for you.

[lambouillet]

LAST UPDATED ON: APRIL/30/2025

─⪼ Hi I'm FIORE !

they/them ☦ young adult ☦ artist, worldbuilder and maybe game concept artist : ^ )

🖍️ Art Gallery ─ ✏️ Doodles — 🪦Masterpost(wip)

LAMBS OF GOD ( Au/Pseudo fan game/World-building )

NEVER WONDER ( Slumbering titans and the land of dreams )

LOGLOG ( Dev log for the fan game part of Lambs of God, also on Bsky and on the Cotl Discord )

📭Asks are always welcomed! I like to take my time crafting a response though so I may not respond as quick as others. Ranges from a few days to a few months ..

I have a terrible terrible habit of rewriting my posts very often also so please don't mind if some things sound a little off ! Its a disease

⚠️ DISCLAIMERS/BYF: I have a spiritual, folk catholic, faith healer background as my mother was a practitioner and involved me in her beliefs, as a result what I make is going to be derivative of those experiences and the experiences of others in my community . I will appear a bit standoffish or cold as a result of this too, sorries 💔 I'll have to keep an arms length to most of you for my own sanity

TWS: Unfortunately I can't realistically tag all of my posts with trigger warnings everytime, but the ones that you'll have to look out for and that'll appear often (but aren't necessarily explicit) are: Gore, Religious imagery, Religious abuse, Decapitation, Child Death, Child abuse, Animal death, Suicide, Dead bodies, Body horror, SA, Pregnancy horror(implied), Self harm, Watching people sleep, and Nudity.

Do note some of these will be treated as regular jokes and jests characters would make to make fun of themselves and their own predicaments, but know that doesn't take away any of the severity, there's alot of cruelty that doesn't seem apparent on first viewing but it will always be there for you to find, view responsibly and stay safe!

Pr0sh1p/T3rfs DNI. And anyone neutral. I think you are all annoying

Extra FAQ under the read more ↓ Current PFP: Shepherd Karakal

FAQ:

Asks & dms

📫 ASKBOX

As mentioned above, all is welcomed, I'd however appreciate if you extend some of your courtesy to me and do not send me anything that's along the lines of being sexually charged. Suggestive jokes are fine, calling them attractive is alright! I am an adult but that doesn't warrant that I'll be over the moon with inappropriate asks. Rule of thumb is if you'd feel uncomfortable sending it to a stranger or a teenager, think twice before sending it in.

Don't send me personal discourse. If you have a problem with another user that I wouldn't know personally it should be dealt with privately. In no way am I ever going to be in a position where I can give you a resolute answer for this. Remember, I am just a random guy, on the web!

Related but slightly unrelated, I will block people freely, whether you've done the above or not, that's just how I like to curate what I see and I do it very often. It's not personal! Please don't take it as such.

Otherwise, everything else is free reign (unless I say so) go nuts, Insane even.

📨DMS

Anyone can dm! ask box rules still apply. Can't guarantee that I'll reply back if the conversation starts with just a "Hi" or "How are you" . I'd really only prefer you message me if there's something to tell or I've done something to elicit you to do so.

General

💬Do you like Narilamb?

No I want to drop hot boiling oil on Narinder ( half truth )

💬Where does your username come from?

Its Rambouillet with "Lamb" instead of Ram : ^ )

💬 what's your lamb's name/pronouns/gender/etc?

They / them nonbinary androgynous, because I like to keep them as ungendered as they are in the game thats just how I prefer them!

As for a name, they don't really have one! Nor do they deserve one, they don't deserve anything.

Endearingly though, I tend to use Lambie as a little nickname and I DO like the name Lambert, because it makes me giggle, but I will only use both for personal and organisation reasons, not because its their name . In universe they're "The Lamb" and nothing else, theres no name behind the title.

ART RELATED

🎁Can I make Fanart/Fanfics of your au/ocs?

Of course! Absolutely! You don't even need to ask! Only thing I'll ask of you though is for you to tag me in them so I can see them... These will always guarantee a smile on my face.

🎭can I use your art as a pfp/post it to Pinterest?

I'd rather you not use my art for anything unless you've had my permission or its art I made for you! Definitely don't post it around other places without my knowledge. I don't have any other active socials besides here and Bluesky under Lambouillet

🎨🖌️Program and brushes

I use Clip studio paint for most of my art, Aseprite every once in a while and Spine2d for my sprites!

I change what I use sporadically so I can't give you a proper answer on EVERY brush I use but here are my frequent ones:

Shockgrunge Marker and Pencil

Kasuy MK sploon

Tacodemuerte Mrsplotchy

Scribbly Dark

Jarijari

Bathylychnops Brushes

Intoxicate set

🚩 Where'd you get the borders from?

I made them! Part1 Part2

useful visualiser for anyones whos read this far ♥️ muah

One last thing:

I know I mentioned that I had specific experiences that are very specific to me and don't get me wrong it impacted my life to a level thats obviously more severe than normal, but also, I don't know everything, I am not the arbiter of the experience of every practitioner, cult or religious organisation. this is an experience that isn't one size fits all, it can vary and be influenced from culture to culture, folklore and upbringing. There are some things that I will just NOT know and it's not my place to say whats true and what's false. It would be better if you seeked out somebody who is to ask and do your own readings, but always be sure to approach with a level of sensitivity and tact. Don't try to treat these people as wells of information you can dry up, its ghoulish.

Extra tags directory for my convenience:

#🗃️ - Archive

#🖼️ - Favourites

#📖 - Comics

#relinquary

#prattles

#manuscripts

[mitsukitsume]

Feast on Fear~

Pov: Pickle meets Pet!

(There will only be one reader which will be pickle! But I'll keep pet as an insert character too!)

"Are you done yet?! I am waiting sweetheart..."

You heard the muffled voice of Isaac as you finish up your final look. You take a good look in the mirror while wearing the outfit Isaac had picked out for you. He truly knew what would look best on you. Not to mention the heavy price tag it came with. Not that hed ever mind. You were worth every penny. After all it was a fancy event so it was only essential that you wore the best.

"How do I look?"

Azriel had invited you and Isaac to a evening party he had held. Although it was mostly for business purposes, you were still excited and nervous to go. It was your first time attending anything fancy.

"Yea just a minute!"

You replied as you took a final look and went ahead to open the door. Isaac's gaze immediately fell on you and his eyes widened a little. You looked...gorgeous. He was almost at a loss for words. You saw the blush on his ears and smiled at his cute flustered state.

"Wow..you..look so beautiful..I.. barely have the words to describe you.."

"You look pretty good yourself handsome.."

He chuckled a little at your flirty reply. He got closer to you and took your hand to give it a kiss before asking you to leave with him.

The drive to Asriel's house was about 30 minutes.. you and Isaac talked about random things and who could be at the event. Eventually the drive came to an end and you and Issac stepped outside. It was the first time you looked at Asriels manor and it was breathtaking...alot bigger than Isaacs. You and Isaac made your way inside and immediately a few people recognised Isaac and started to chat with him. Isaac introduced you as his partner and people were nice to you as well. You were still very anxious about meeting all these fancy people. A few moments pass and you see a beautiful blonde man walking up to Isaac. You thought he must be another one of Isaac's associates but he was Asriel himself. You couldn't believe it. You honestly thought he was some old bald man. But he was quite attractive. Not as much as Isaac though. He was the most charming in your eyes.

"Hmm Adorable pet.."

Asriel said teasingly. Isaac let out a scoff and replied.

"They are not a pet you know."

Asriel laughed and said in return.

"I know I know...just teasing.. Although you are quite adorable dear..what's your name? I am guessing you already know who I am?"

You replied nervously and nodded your head a little.

"Y-Yes ..it's nice to meet you Mr.Cain..My name is XXXX"

"It's good to meet you. I really wanted to know what made this man of steel melt

You laughed at his remark meanwhile Isaac rolled his eyes. After a bit of chitchat, Isaac got pulled away from you. He was discussing a few things with his work accociates. You decided to explore the enormous manor a bit. It was beautiful. The walls were painted in an off white colour with gold decorations all around. You didn't doubt that it was real pure gold.

As you were wandering you got a bit away from the party and noise to a more seculed area. It was a balcony with a beautiful view to the outside. You were looking up at the stars appreciating them for Thier beauty and glamour. It was a calm atmosphere until...there was a hand on your back that startled you to your core.

You gasped loudly and saw the person who touched you. It was a beautiful person with a bright smile. They looked even more ethereal in the moonlight.

"Hello.."

They said. You were still a little nervous and starteld from the way they silently creeped up to you.

"H-Hello..C-Can I know who you are..?"

"Hmm..is that really important..?"

The reply caught you off guard. How wasn't it important?

"W-Well I'd like to know who you are..! You know you almost scared me.."

"Oh did I..? My apologies.."

They said as they took a step forward. You didn't know what it was but there was something off about this person... something just wasn't right. You took a step back only to get trapped between the railing and them.

"Umm..what are you doing..? W-Why are you.."

"You ask too many questions."

They cut you off. They were only fueling your suspicion. As they walked in even closer..they were about to grab you until you pulled out a small knife Isaac had given you for safety and stabbed them in the abdomen...You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. When you opened them you expect med to see a person bleeding out but instead what you saw shook you to your core. They didn't move an inch. Instead, just smiling back at you. You gasped in utter shock and horror...no it couldn't be..? Was it really one of those of what Isaac told you?.

They took out the sharp object and threw it to the ground...they looked up to you.

"W-Wha..t..a-are...y-yo-.."

Before you could even finish your sentence.. you were grabbed harshly with inhuman power and smashed against a wall. They pinned you while standing over you.

"I didn't appreciate that."

Those words made you shiver...you had definitely dug a hole for yourself. There was no way you could defend yourself against a mythic.

"Don't close your eyes...look..at..me.."

You were way too Afraid but compiled. They smirked as they saw the fear and tears in your eyes threatening to spill. You saw there fangs and immediately realised what you had gotten yourself into..

" A vampire..?"

You mumbled softly. They chuckled and grabbed your chin to make your fearful gaze meet theirs..

"Yes...a vampire.."

You felt a shiver down your spine. It was true...You had thought that what Isaac told you just might not be true. You didn't pay much attention to it but this was something else. Right Infront of you was something that was inhuman... nothing was going to save you. You closed your eyes in fear and a few tears spilled out. You could hear them chuckle in amusement.

"Scared..? I love that.."

"P-please...l-let..me..g-go..W-Why..are you doing t-this..?"

You managed to say barely. What was it planning with you!? You were just just minding your own business!..

"Hmm..Why should I let a prey go huh..? You smell so sweet..I just need to get a taste..but I think that might just not be enough.."

"Open them."

They commanded sternly. You opened your eyes and saw the predatory look in their eyes. You opened your mouth to scream but soon felt a hand on your mouth silencing you . Half of your body was suddenly pushed over the balcony with their hand pinning your abdomen to the railing.

"Tell me how I should drain you..? Slit your throat and let it all drip out?.."

You started to silently sob at that. You thought of Isaac and how'd he feel if he ever found you like that. You can't let this happen but what could you even do?

"Or maybe thatd be too wasteful...I wouldn't to waste your precious blood now.."

"L-Let me g-go..please! I...h-havent d-done anything...let me go please..."

Your breathing was getting faster and now you were beyond terrified. You kept thinking of Isaac and wishing at any moment maybe he could save you. But what could even he do in this? If he intervened his life would be equally at risk.

Suddenly, they pushed you away from the balcony and back onto to the wall. You slumped down and crouched against the wall in fear. They slowly walked up to you and crouched down still wearing that sly smirk. They grabbed both of your shoulders and leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I am going to suck the life out of you."

Your eyes widened...is this really how your end was written? How would he feel? He'll be in so much pain...and there's nothing you could've done now. You were beyond stupid for wandering off. They leaned back and started to laugh at you. Mocking you. You could only cry in fear as you saw your end near.

"PET!!!"

You heard a familiar voice call out loudly. They looked at the direction of voice and rolled there eyes.

"How many times do I tell you not to mess with people I work with!?"

You heard Asriel say angrily. Then you saw Isaac. He looked a bit afraid but panicked more when he saw your terrified expression. He quickly made his way to you and snatched you away from the inhumane creature. He wrapped his arms around you as to shield you away. You sighed in relief and felt your shoulders relax a bit. You were finally back in your comfort place when you thought you'd die a few minutes ago.

"I was just having fun..Come on look they are unharmed.. nothing wrong with a little teasing."

"My god..you are unbelievable..I should've locked you."

Asriel was more disappointed than angry. He knew that this was expected of his "pet"

"Are you okay..!? Are you hurt anywhere..? I was so worried when I couldn't find you anywhere..!"

"Calm down Mr.Loverman...Although it's adorable how you're scared but trying to seem like a hero Infront of them..? How cute.."

Isaac didn't reply as he knew what they said was true but even if he was scared your safety was still his first priority. In his presence he'd try everything just to protect you. He took off his coat and wrapped it around you still holding you tightly.

"Sigh...I can't believe this..isaac..I apologise for this..and to you too...And you..you're in deep trouble tonight...in need of a discipline."

"Don't threaten me with a good time!"

Isaac shortly left after and took you home.

"I thought I was going to die.."

"God I was worried sick looking for you everywhere...I thought..."

"I am sorry Isaac. I shouldn't have wandered off..I didn't know something so dangerous..was.. lurking.."

"It scared me too because I know that's something I can't really do anything to protect you from and that's my biggest fear! To not be able to protect you...I'd never forgive myself if something ever happened."

"....why would he even keep something like that?"

"It's..for protection..but I think he has many other reasons too...reasons I'd rather not know..."

The rest of the evening was you explaining to Isaac in detail what happened. Tonight really changed your view of the world and made you more cautious while going outside.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

I just discovered your 'peggy free fics' tag and I'm delighted. I can't tell you the amount of stucky fics I've read where there'll be a paragraph of random peggy worship that was never built up and then it'll go back to the boys like nothing happened. You could edit it out and the story wouldn't change at all. (Not unlike certain mcu movies . . . *cough cough* catws and cacw 👀).

I remember this one Wakandan stucky fic where the boys were trying to navigate a relationship after everything and one night where they were hanging out they were suddenly like 'hey remember how awesome peggy was? she was amazing and special and talented and she'll be so missed' then she wasn't mentioned again. There's ones where Bucky will barely remember any of his life with Steve, but he remembers Peggy and how much both of them loved her. I swear I've seen more fics where Steve and Bucky more her and even Howard more than they do Sarah or Bucky's family or the Howlies. Steve never misses his mother or wishes he could get guidance/support from her - but he does from Peggy. I even remember this one fic where Bucky when to get support from Peggy after catws and bonded with her over losing memories.

And god so many stucky fics have steggy as a past romance so Steve is always like 'Peggy was the perfect girl for me and I'll always love her and carry her in my heart . . . but now I have Bucky so now I'll be okay.' Like Bucky is always presented as second best or something that'll have to do, cause he can't be with Peggy (implying that given the choice, he'd choose her over Bucky).

One of the worst ones I've read though was this Howlies fic where there was a scene that took place after Peggy shot at Steve. He was whining to Bucky about how terrible he felt that he screwed things up with her, he really liked her and made her mad, and then Bucky gave him advice on how to make it up to her. I clicked out of it so fast let me tell you. (It's definitely tricky to find a good Howlies fic without Peggy. It's really common to find one where there's shooting competitions where she's as good as if not better than Bucky, stuff like push up competitions where she can keep up with Steve. You'll even find the guys, including Bucky, thinking Steve is a joke but they'll cower before Peggy because they know better. A lot of 'Peggy is the only competent one with any braincells who has to sort the boys out' 🤢. I also remember one where Steve was smiling and joking with Peggy a few hours after Bucky fell off the train.)

Even Buck will be raving about how great she was. All 'She loved Steve as much as I did and I'm glad she could be there for him when I wasn't'. Even if he's with Steve in the future he'll still be like 'She was so good for you, you could put you in your place, you would've been happy with her.' It makes me wonder why the author didn't just write a steggy fic.

Anyway sorry this got longer than I meant it to. Obviously needed to get all this off my chest 😂

OMG yes, even a fic I've just recced has this in it!

I almost end up doing a Mystery Science Theater thing in my head where I'm finishing every her-related line

like: fic-Steve: gee Buck Peggy sure was great me: ...at hiring Nazis!

fic-Peggy: boys I am so great I will officiate your wedding me: ...as a cover for shooting Steve in a jealous rage for rejecting me like I did in canon!

fic-Bucky: Steve you really shoulda married her I'd be fine with that me: ...and totally wouldn't cockblock you like I did in canon honest!

Genuinely the depth of delusion fic authors have about her to the point of assigning her actions that are literally 100% opposite to what her canon characterisation is, and warping other characters' personalities to praise her too, is actually like..... like they have an RFK Jr brainworm chomping away and cannot think sensibly when it comes to this one character. Like they've been possessed by an MCU writer parasite.

And the way it's invariably inserted into the middle of a stucky scene, too? Like you can almost feel the author's fear of the stans, and thinking 'I better insert a quick comphetero disclaimer so as not to Insult Her Majesty by implying someone else is just as good or even better!!' 😨

Like ok you know you can just not mention characters who have no importance to the plot, right? You know you can literally pretend that character never existed, when they're so unimportant it changes nothing??

[luvwich]

twenty questions

tagged by @streetkid-named-desire to answer these; ty frend you know i love yappin! and i'm tagging @rowanisawriter @slayerdurge and @littleplasticrat :3

How many works do you have on AO3?

fourteen. i have no idea where they all came from

What's your total AO3 word count?

360,733 and i am pleased to report that all of them are in the bible

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Arpeggio: the grande dame. the firstborn. beast of a fic. we've got river ward on a sailboat. we've got sad blowjobs. we've got a V with too many surnames. Red-black: right place right time; i just happened to write one of the first explicit songbird/v fics. there are many more now and others have done songbird more justice. i still think this one's good! Jaded: the lil cousin. i can't believe a hundred and thirty-two souls read and ostensibly enjoyed a fic about "tiny" mike kowalski dicking down a nice british corpo girl. who are these people. i mean i know who like eight of them are but still Crescent & Redwood: a sequel no one asked for (well, a couple people sort of did) but everyone needed. again, who are these people... Black steel: everyone loves SilverV! i was pleasantly surprised that folks went along with the odd vignette format, the lack of overt romance, and a somewhat idiosyncratic version of V

What fandoms do you write for?

cyberpunk 2077 and a little bit of baldur's gate 3! realistically, CP77 has my imagination captured for the foreseeable future. the setting meshes well with my writing style and the universe is just a great sandbox. there is some bg3 stuff i wanna write though

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i respond. i respond within like 5 minutes sometimes… i respond more reliably than i respond to work emails. why: it's honestly shocking to me that anyone reads anything i write, much less takes time to let me know about it. you sat there giving me twenty minutes, sixty minutes, maybe even hours and hours of your undivided attention? in this economy?? i answer them faster than work emails bc nobody at my job has done anything like that for me.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

black steel, the last installment is brutal and i've def gotten the most "wow this hurt me" feedback on it

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

my fics tend to end on a bittersweet note, but crescent is definitely more sweet than bitter. it's the only one i'd be comfortable billing as a true "happy ending." and the characters earned it. i earned it! imo!!

Do you get hate on fics?

never gotten a hate comment or even a negative one! i would be excited tbh...

Do you write smut?

🙂‍↕️

my favorite kinda fic to read and write: plotty, character-driven, perhaps even a bit cerebral, with copious nasty as FUCK explicit scenes. and that's really something you can only find in fanfics — published romance and erotica tends to be somewhat formulaic and shallow, while anything "literary" doesn't usually include a lot of open-door sex, especially not those longer juicy scenes

Do you write crossovers?

i have a couple cute ideas for crossovers but im unlikely to pursue them in any way

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

other than being scraped for that goddamned huggingface dataset, i don't think so

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have not, but it's all cool with me if someone wants to do that for something i've written (and by cool with me i mean i'd be sosososo jazzed)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yeah! as rat mentioned i collaborated on breach with them; i wrote most of the smutty parts :3 so fun to play with someone else's blorbos

What's your all-time favorite ship?

i'm not really that ship-driven; there aren't many i've had an ongoing fixation with and i'm more drawn to good writing and chewy dynamics. i can get into anything !

What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

the one about regina jones in her early media days in the 2050s! i love the premise but i don't think i'll have the steam to finish it in a way i'd be satisfied with

What are you writing strengths?

characterization — i think i'm good at rendering a character in three dimensions, giving them a voice and a real presence, and making you want to root for 'em. maybe even making you want to fuck them.

and i think my prose is good. i go for a blend of punchy and poetic and think i achieve it much of the time!

What are your writing weaknesses?

plotting, but i'm getting better at it! my prose has allowed me get away (or feel like i've gotten away) with some hacky shit from time to time and i am trying to clean up my act in that regard.

i think my writing has a tendency toward excess and purpleness, reaching too hard, veering into the self-conscious and pretentious at points. it's something of a calculated risk i take… but sometimes, to force a basketball analogy, i'm chucking up a lot of 3-pointers and circus shots when i should be driving into the paint

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

i've mostly limited this to code-switching (ie mixing in terms and phrases from another language) or, in some cases like with the VDB, having select dialogue in another language with translation inline — which is meant to mimic the effect of having an automatic translation as in the game. basically i try to have a solid reason for it!

Favorite fic you've ever written?

man, i love crescent & redwood.. i simply had an amazing time writing that. i was consumed by my passion for it and every day i was counting down the hours until i could get back to it. every time i sat down to write i'd be rolling downhill like a semi-truck with shot brakes, unstoppable (not always a good thing but very very fun for me!). it's full of smut that i'm proud of but also odd little scenes and moments that just make me happy. the last two chapters in particular are some of the bombest shit i've written. finishing it legitimately BROKE my heart!! sometimes i'm scared i'll never enjoy writing something that much again, but even if that's the case, i'm grateful for my 3-month long torrid love affair with that damn fic

[songsofadelaide]

Asleep Among Endives

Chapter 4 — Side by Side

You never thought it would be the prelude to a never-ending nightmare.

[A Gojo Satoru x Reader fic, completed]

tags and content warnings: Gojo Satoru x (f) jujutsu sorcerer (rct user) reader, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates, original characters, manga spoilers, canonical character deaths, arranged marriages, canon-typical violence, implied sexual content, futurefic in later parts of this chapter. wc: 14.6k

⚜ This fic will not use 'yn' and instead follow my usual naming convention. Please kindly see yourself out if you're uncomfortable with fics using placeholder names for the reader. I do not use 'yn' in any of my fics. I still use 'you'/second-person pronouns and write with a generic (f) reader in mind. I use "Otome" as a placeholder as it means maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much translates to 'yn'.

✾ Fic Masterlist ✾ Chapter 1 — Twilight ✾ Chapter 2 — The Sun ✾ Chapter 3 — Ordinary Days ✾ Interlude — In The Quiet ✾ Epilogue

"—I have silently watched him lying beside me    in the early morning, I know his loneliness, like mine, human and sad, but different, too, his private pain  and pleasure I can never enter even as he comes closer, past trees and cars, trash and flowers, steam rising from the manhole covers, gutters running with rain,  he lifts his head, he sees me, we are strangers again,    and a rending music of desire and loss—"  — Chance Meeting, Susan Browne

— Love Me Tender.

~ February 2017.

"Is Nanami-san really married like everyone says he is? You don't look like the settling type at all."

Nanami actually expected that kind of question from this kid. Ino Takuma was a fresh graduate but definitely had the skill and talent to quickly rise up the ranks. The pair were on their way to a mission when the younger man asked the question to break some ice. 

However, the blonde turned away from the boy's curious gaze and instead rested his eyes on the road as they were being driven to their destination. "Let's not ask irrelevant questions."

"See?! I have great respect for you, Nanami-san! But I really can't picture you happily hitched when you're so uptight. Maybe the others were just messing with me…"

"Perhaps," Nanami replied. The boy was eager to learn more about him if anything, but he had to learn how to ask the right questions the right way, too. 

The mission mandated to them was the exorcism of a second-grade cursed spirit that loomed over the famous Shiki Theater in Minato. While it was already common practice for the seasoned sorcerer, this would be one of the first tasks that could either make or break Ino's character and career. 

"There are no shows today, but only rehearsals, which means civilians are still present. We should move to evacuate them once we get there."

"Good attention to detail, Ino-kun. But we don't have to worry about that. I had some help from an insider."

"An insider? Are they a sorcerer, too?"

"You could say that," Nanami remarked. "What do we do once we're before the threat?"

"We exorcise it as soo—"

"We assess the situation and confirm if the threat matches the description," the older man cuts off his subordinate's enthusiastic reply. "We'll proceed with the exorcism only if the cursed spirit's grade matches the threat level. If this is a second-grade cursed spirit as indicated, then I'll leave you to it."

Ino swallowed to himself as he took a mental note of what his more experienced partner stated. He envied how Nanami remained cool and level-headed even though they were headed to dangerous territory. The older sorcerer's clean work has always been a source of veneration for him and his classmates, but seeing Nanami in action in person left Ino awestruck. 

He needed to leave an impression on Nanami, too! 

So after the pair assessed the situation as previously mentioned by the seasoned sorcerer, Ino was handed the reins of the mission: to exorcise the cursed spirit sporting a Kabuki mask. It seemed to be terrorizing the actors rehearsing onstage. Though the place was clear, a single person remained onstage, drawing the curse's attention to herself while the rest of the theatre's crew escaped. 

"There's still one person left! She's—" Ino stated, a hint of panic in his voice. "Nanami-san, I'll—" 

He was surprised when Nanami barred his movement, choosing to enter the fray himself even though he said he would leave the work to the rookie. From across the floor, Ino watched how his mentor took to the stage and battled against the masked curse, a protective arm around the remaining person there, too. He found it odd that Nanami would try to protect that person on his own rather than urging them to escape while they could.  

"Wait a minute, is that—?"

The rookie couldn't believe his eyes. The woman was laughing as Nanami threw her over his shoulder like a piece of luggage. It took the skilled sorcerer a few slices and jabs before the curse was completely exorcised. 

"Nanami-san!"

Ino made his approach, and he was met by the giggling of the woman on his mentor's shoulder. Nanami placed her back down on her feet, to which she responded by dusting herself and straightening out her yukata. 

"Ino-kun, this is Koganei Chiemi-san. Not only is she the star of this theatre company, but she's the insider I told you about earlier," the older sorcerer stated as he introduced the rookie to Chiemi. "Chi, this is Ino Takuma-kun. He just graduated from Jujutsu High, but is proving to be a capable sorcerer so far."

Pretty is the very first thing that the young sorcerer thought of when he locked eyes with the older woman. She must be a hafu, or a quarter like Nanami-san. 

"I-It's nice to make your acquaintance, Koganei-san! If I may be so bold, I'd like to call myself Nanami-san's apprentice…" He said with a small bow. "Th-Thank you for your assistance with the evacuation of your production crew."

"Oh, so you're Takkun! Kento has told me so much about you!" She stated with a smile as she baptized the younger man with a new nickname and held out her hand for a handshake. "You can call me Chi, but my name is actually Nanami Chiemi. I'm your mentor's wife, after all." 

The rookie couldn't believe his ears this time, his hand only halfway from returning to the older woman's handshake when he recoiled. "N-N-Nanami-san's… wife?!"

Chiemi brought her hand to her lips in surprise. "Oh, did you not know? I thought it was already some kind of open secret in jujutsu society."

"H-He never— Nanami-san! So they weren't messing with me after all!"

"I simply didn't confirm nor deny it is all," Nanami stated, allowing his wife to take hold of his weapon as he fished out his mobile phone from his pants pocket. Chiemi concealed yet another laugh under the sleeve of her yukata. "But if he asked more politely, I might have said something."

"Don't tease Takkun, Kento! He's such a sweetheart like you said!" She looked up at her husband, who was still trying to call someone on his phone. "Well, now that you know where I work, you should drop by sometimes, Takkun! Come visit me when you aren't busy and tell me all about how cool my husband is!"

"I-I'd be happy to, Chi-san!"

A low grumble of complaint left Nanami's lips, though he didn't mind hearing his wife sing his praises with that saccharine voice of hers. Not that he'd ever let her know. 

— A Glimmer of Hope.

~ April 2017.

Jujutsu Headquarters did not have the gall or the courage to upturn your home, even though they knew it was where Gojo Satoru kept one of his most prized discoveries. Immunity was one of the many things the Koganei Clan enjoyed under the protection of your husband's influence— under the protection of the Gojo Clan. 

After being released from his slated execution, Okkotsu Yuuta was housed and placed under your guardianship for a month while your husband ironed out the boy's enrollment at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Now that he was set to enter the magic college himself, the boy had to steel himself to another changing reality. 

Yuuta was awfully timid during his stay with you. He was entirely convinced that he would bring forth a deluge of bad luck to your family if he continued his stay there, and even tried escaping your watchful eye multiple times. Kazuya was responsible for your estate's security, and he ensured the boy would never be able to leave the place, no matter how hard he tried. When he eventually realized there was no leaving this place until Satoru personally came back for him, he surrendered to his fate and eventually warmed up to the idea of a home, though only for a month. He even tried asking for menial work to not be a burden to you and your clan. 

"Yuuta-kun, you're a guest here. I won't have you doing housework," you told him from across the table as you shared breakfast one morning. "If you wish to burn off some energy, you should train with my brother."

"K-Kazuya-san? But he's— I-I wouldn't want to bother him…" The boy meekly replied to you. "I-If there's some heavy lifting that needs to be done, please don't hesitate to put me to work, Otome-san…"

You sighed and set down your utensils before gently reaching for the young man's hands. "Satoru told me to take care of you while you're here, Yuuta-kun. I can't claim to know what kind of torment you've been through… but you don't have to worry about that anymore. You being here is one of the very few moments my husband chose to rely on me and I'm happy for it. I understand you don't wish to impose on us, but I'm reminding you that everyone here considers you a guest. You are not a burden for staying here."

Yuuta took notice of the small calluses on your otherwise soft hands. Your hold was warm and kind and the way you squeezed his hands gave him the slightest amount of courage. 

"I'm sorry, Otome-san… You and your family have been nothing but kind to me even though all I've brought is doom and gloom… I'm not even sure if I deserve this kindness, or this life, in general."

"Don't say that, Yuuta-kun. Don't say you don't deserve this life when you haven't even lived to the fullest yet," you said with a tender smile, one that eased the cloud of worries that hung over his head. "For what it's worth, I don't think you're cursed. But you will just have to find out the reason why you feel as though you are… when you enter Jujutsu High yourself."

As you gently let go of him, you filled his bowl with another scoop of rice, much to his surprise. "If I remember correctly, your classmates are from sorcerer clans like mine. Don't let yourself be pushed around, though."

"I'll… I'll do my best then, Otome-san." 

— The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

~ December 24, 2017.

"When it comes to class reunions, this is probably the worst," you stated, the disappointment in your voice evident as you knelt before yet another injured sorcerer to heal them. The young man in black winced in pain as you pressed down your palm on his side, where blood spilled out from a gaping hole the size of a fist.

When the curse user Geto Suguru made a declaration of war against Tokyo Jujutsu High, his threat was unveiled in the form of countless curses raining down on Shinjuku, the magnetic melting pot for curses in general, and Kyoto, the heartland of jujutsu society. Every sorcerer capable of fighting was called to the fray, and that included you, though you did not take to the field as instructed by your husband.

You were not present when Principal Yaga held the meeting with the sorcerers on duty. It was there Satoru explicitly stated that Suguru wouldn't start a war he didn't think he'd win. The 2000 curses weren't a bluff, especially when you saw the stream of wounded sorcerers coming into the makeshift infirmary Shoko established as the fighting raged on… The streets of Shinjuku were filled with the remnants of exorcised curses and remains of slain sorcerers, some of which were far too young to even be part of this battle.

Surely Satoru didn't— He wouldn't have— 

"Get to work, Otome!"

You didn't take it personally when she started ordering you around, calling for you to heal every injured person who came in. You were already short-handed as it was and the last thing she needed was you dawdling around and losing yourself in misplaced nostalgia. This person who declared war wasn't the same Suguru you knew. Or maybe he was. He was a curse user now, unfortunately misguided but at the same time enlightened by his choice of principles to follow.

"Of course, Shoko."

Shoko had a furrowed brow as she surveyed your surroundings, her complete annoyance showing as injured— and even mutilated sorcerers— piled up at her feet. You really made so much trouble for us, Geto. 

You heard your stomach gurgle all of a sudden, followed by a rush of acid and vomit you tried so desperately to hold back in your mouth. Your hands were soaked in the blood of your fellow sorcerers, some of which were far too young—

Jujutsu sorcerers live short lives—

You are seventeen again, your body weak as you knelt before Haibara's lifeless body—

No, you had to pull yourself together. You and Shoko had important things to do. But the blood on your hands unsettled you further. Surely this wasn't the world you envisioned, Suguru-san… Or is this the price you're willing to pay for it? 

In the aftermath of the incident, documents released by Jujutsu Headquarters to the clan leaders showed Suguru as deceased, but you can't recall Satoru or Shoko saying anything about it. It was Yuuta, of all people, who told you that Suguru died by Satoru's hand. 

Yuuta was set to leave for Kenya in the next few days after one of Suguru's family members, Miguel Oduol, was forced by Satoru to take the boy under his wing. The boy was a shadow of his previously shy self, and you liked his newfound confidence even more than he did. 

"That's all I know, Otome-san. I apologize for not being able to tell you much," he said from across your shared table. He has taken a liking to Cafe Lilico, too, and he even remarked how he'd love to take his friends there one of these days.

"Don't be sorry, Yuuta-kun. It's Satoru who hasn't told me anything at all…" You said as you caressed the edge of your cup of hot chocolate. "I'm a poor excuse of a wife if my husband can't even confide in me about these… things."

"O-Oh, don't be so down, Otome-san! Gojo-sensei holds you in high esteem. But I think there are things he would rather do on his own…" Yuuta exclaimed as he saw the glumness sink into your features. "I'm sure sensei trusts you in many different ways…"

"Of course. Even after all these years, the bond they share is still so extraordinary," you said with a small smile and an even smaller sigh of defeat. Even after all these years, you could never hate Geto Suguru. You questioned his motives and his misplaced goals, but the thought of him disappearing from your lives forever hurt you more than you let on. 

"Suguru-san would have been the Best Man at our wedding. He would have been the godfather of our first child. He was the first person I'd call if I couldn't reach Satoru—"

Suguru was dead, and none of them even thought to ask you if you would have wanted to grieve for him. He was my friend, too.

When Shoko visited you at your home the other day for a routine checkup, you bravely decided to open the topic of Suguru's death, but not after being met with her annoyance and displeasure once more. 

"Did Gojo not tell you? He never turned over Geto's corpse to Jujutsu High. I was never able to examine him in the end. We weren't the ones who held his funeral."

What?

"Geto had this… 'family'. Two young girls grieved his death the most and Gojo felt inclined to hand over Geto's body to them instead. So they could mourn him," she said as she placed her stethoscope down next to your futon. "Does that answer your question, Otome?"

You nodded at her before letting out yet another sigh of relief. "I suppose it does my heart well to know that Suguru-san was surrounded by the people he cared about…"

"It's an idea, for sure…" Shoko replied as she fixed her belongings. Playing doctor to her friend was a good change of pace for her, and she appreciated you drawing her out of the school's morgue every once in a while. "Now, are you trying to get pregnant or not? If Gojo wants to put a baby in you, tell him to stop wearing rubbers the next time you do it."

"Sh-Shoko!" 

— Bound by Fate.

~ September 2018.

Gojo Satoru was sixteen when he first asked for your hand in marriage. While it was a proposal at face value, the main family knew it was more of a veiled threat if he didn't get what he wanted. He had wanted you longer than that and it was clear that you reciprocated his tender feelings, despite the danger that came with your ties. It was an age of impetuousness, so you came to understand why Satoru's student grew impatient in his situation. 

On paper, Itadori Yuuji, the chosen vessel of Ryomen Sukuna, was dead. 

But here he was, living and breathing and walking around the aged corridors of your ancestral home after you agreed to safeguard him for your husband— only the second time Satoru has ever asked you for such an important favor. 

"Ah, Otome-san! Do you need help with that?" 

"Yuuji-kun!" 

"Here, let me," the younger boy happily took the light cardboard box off your hands. "Where to?"

"To my office," you replied as you walked beside him. "I'm sure you miss your friends, Yuuji-kun. I know I did whenever my classmates were on missions and I had to stay behind at school."

"Yeah, I do, Otome-san! But I also understand why… I mean there's some stuff I hafta learn and all," he chuckled. "I'm pretty sure they're with Gojo-sensei at the moment… And I know we'll be meeting again soon. I'm always looking forward to our rest days!"

"Oh? What do you usually do on your days off?" 

"We just hang out, sometimes eat lunch out, too. Oh! Kugisaki loves shopping a lot, so we're always around to carry her stuff. Sometimes we watch movies, too… We go to karaoke, too! Though Fushiguro's always just sitting there with a placid look on his face!" Yuuji beamed at you, making sure he matched your pace as you walked alongside each other. There was a certain vibrancy about him that seemed so familiar to you, pulling at your heart almost painfully to the point where you felt tears prickle your eyes. "Is something wrong, Otome-san?"

His question cut through your poignant reverie. "Huh?"

"Did I say something wrong? You look like you're about to cry."

"No, I… I'm sorry," you managed a smile for the boy. "Your days off… sound like a lot of fun. That sounds just like what Megumi-kun would do, too. I suppose you could say I'm a bit jealous. Make sure to enjoy those moments with your friends."

"Now that you mentioned it, weren't you and Nanamin classmates?" 

"We were. The three of us—" You started, only to correct yourself midway. "The two of us… Kento and I are very close friends, but he's more like a brother now…" 

"Because he's married to your sister, Chi-san?"

"Technically, he is my brother-in-law…" You said, pausing to admire the gentle rain of ginkgo leaves from across the garden. "There were three of us back then, too, but only Kento and I were able to graduate."

"Did something happen to your other classmate?" The boy inquired with genuine curiosity, only to be met by your tear-filled eyes. "Gah! I-I'm sorry if I'm being too nosy, Otome-san! P-Please don't cry!…"

"D-Don't worry, Yuuji-kun. I just remembered something is all… I'll take it from here," you told him with a rather tired smile as you slowly took back your things from his arms. "Now remember what I said. Enjoy your time with your friends once you're allowed to return to Jujutsu High."

"O-Of course, Otome-san!"

"And take it easy! Satoru placed you under my care so you could rest and relax. There's no need for you to be running errands or so while you're here," you told him with a defeated smile this time. "Though I understand where your antsiness stems from. There's nothing to do here, after all." 

"Let me give this boy something to do, then," came a sweet voice from the other end of the corridor, followed by elegant padded footsteps and the sheen of a lilac yukata. Chiemi had her golden hair pulled up in a relaxed rope lazily draped over her shoulder. "You know I never tire of hearing just how cool my husband is on the field, Yuuji-kun."

"Oh, Chi-san! Welcome back!" Yuuji exclaimed with his usual cheer as he approached the other lady of the house. "Otome-san and I were just— Oh, she's gone…?" 

True enough, you disappeared from the corner of his eyes and into one of your estate's many winding paths and halls, perhaps to silently cry your heart out.

"You know, Chi-san, I think Otome-san's kind of lonely. Does Nanamin ever come and talk to her?"

"Whatever do you mean, Yuuji-kun?" Chiemi asked as she linked her arm with the younger boy, his verve gone as a perplexed expression washed over his youthful features. Still, he managed to press his palm over the older woman's cool knuckles as she looped her arm over his own. 

"It's like… How do I put it? She's looking at me, but it's like she's talking to another person…"

"She's like that sometimes, isn't she?" She said with a small smile as she led Yuuji to the estate gardens. "I suppose Kento is like that with you, too. All because you remind them of something."

"I do?"

"Yes, Yuuji-kun. You remind them of a time of romance," Chiemi stated as she looked up at the endless sky and rain of golden, golden ginkgo leaves. "And a time of heartache."

Yuuji turned his bright brown eyes upward, amazed at the perennial and evergreen ginkgo tree and how it seemingly shed its leaves for a spectacle of grandeur. Under the curtain that shielded your clan's home from the rest of the world's peering eyes, it seemed like you were encased in a snow globe perpetually being shaken about, golden leaves swirling around like a dream. 

"Kento and I first met when we were your age. I was a brat back then and always drew a lot of attention to myself, both good and bad. When I asked for his contact details back then, he rejected me! How could anyone reject a face like mine, right? But Kento did. And for good reason, too… Because if he hadn't said what he said back then, I might still be a brat today," the older woman said with a laugh. "He and onee-chan have always been close, but there were three of them before. And they were close in a way that even made Satoru-kun a little jealous… but they simply had a lot of respect for each other."

"I see…"

"They lost him during a mission. Onee-chan wasn't even there with them when it happened, but Kento remembers how she nearly bled herself dry of tears…" Chiemi said with a small sigh. "And even now, sometimes the two of them still look like they're chasing after death, huh?" 

"I initially thought Nanamin and I would never get along, but he is a thoughtful man who is always looking out for me," Yuuji said with a small smile. "And I wouldn't really call their actions 'chasing after death', Chi-san. I guess he's always on the field with a no-regrets mindset, especially after we encountered that cursed spirit Mahito… But Nanamin's so strong and cool and I think it's sweet of him that he's always so excited to see you!" 

"He is just the coolest, isn't he?! And the sweetest, too! I wholeheartedly agree with you!" She gushed rather excitedly, the warm smile drawn out of her beautiful face once more. "Yuuji-kun, nothing gives Kento greater satisfaction than being able to protect young sorcerers like you, though it is also his heaviest responsibility. I always fear for his life, but I believe his strength is meant to guide kids like you… But can I please ask you to look out for him every once in a while, too?" 

"Of course, Chi-san! You don't have to ask me twice! I'll always have Nanamin's back!" 

One of the very first things you salvaged from your old things from your days as a student was the set of purikura photos you took with Kento and Yu. You had it scanned, digitized, and saved on your smartphone. It was a relic of a time gone by, of innocence crushed by the weight of a devastating reality— jujutsu sorcerers live short lives. You just didn't expect that one to end so soon. 

You swiftly swiped a hand over your moist cheeks as the shoji of your office slid open, followed by the soft glimmer of Chiemi's silk yukata as she leaned against the wooden panel. "A little birdie told me you were feeling a bit down." 

You knew there was no use in denying anything now that Yuuji and Chiemi had spoken to each other.  

"It hurts to look at him sometimes," you stated with a small smile. "Yuuji-kun reminds me so much of Yu that it's kind of scary. Kento hasn't spoken a word yet, but I suppose he feels the same. He must be pretty taken by that boy to accept him as an apprentice of sorts. And to think he hosts something so… malevolent inside him." 

"Yuuji-kun is a surprisingly mature thinker, despite how he looks," your younger sister stated. "I don't think he intends to break your heart a second time around. They aren't the same people."

"I… I know," you said as you swallowed the lump in your throat. "And it would be unfair of me to treat Yuuji-kun as though he's—"

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of your mobile phone ringing on your ornate walnut chabudai, which Chiemi urged you to pick up. "Is it Satoru-kun? It might be important."

So you did, placing the call on loudspeaker. "Hello, Satoru?"

"Otome-san! Please, we're begging you!" Came the exasperated voice of a young woman from the other end of the line. "Please tell your husband to come home! We are sick and tired of training and all of these inane missions he keeps on sending us to!"

"N-Nobara-chan?" 

"You tell her too, Fushiguro! She might listen to you better since you're their kid and all!"

You heard shuffling from the other end of the call, followed by a tiresome sigh you could only recognise as Megumi's. "Ghk—! What are y—"

"Oh? Why do you guys have my phone?"

There's Satoru, you thought to yourself as you let out a similarly tired sigh. There was the sound of white noise and shuffling once more, with Megumi seemingly talking over your husband's mobile phone. 

"It's Otome-san."

Silence from the other end, before the sound of your husband's usual cheer and saccharine voice filled the air. "My dearest darling sweetheart!" 

…Prompting a stifled chuckle from your sister, who shook her head and dismissed herself from your presence, but not before mouthing to you how corny your husband was.

"Give the kids a break and come home to me, Toru," you said. "Or are you perhaps so bored stiff here at home with me?"

"Are you kidding? I'm never bored when I'm with you!"

"Do you truly enjoy spending time with me, Satoru?"

"Of course I do! I must have made it clear by now! Not to mention all the summers I spent there at your family's estate. Do you still remember the summer I first visited you at your home? And you know how cold it gets in Kyoto… But I've never seen such a bright gold all my life. You were like the sun to me back then," Satoru stated point blank, the memories of your shared childhood bubbling in the corners of your mind. "You still are."

"And you were like the sky, so clear and so vast… I remember that one morning when everyone in the estate was panicking because you weren't in your bedroom, only for them to find us still fast asleep in my bedroom—"

"—Fingers intertwined. Because I didn't want anything else. I just wanted to be around you as much as I could. I just wanted to bask in that sunshine for as long as I could." 

There was a word your mother used to describe your relationship with your husband— the mysterious force that ties you two together. While you considered everyone in your life a fated encounter, what you shared with Satoru was an otherworldly bond you had no logical explanation for. 

Enishi. A destined encounter. An eternal promise made in a previous life. Who or what you were in your previous life mattered little— all that mattered was the promise at present— the destined encounter after a slight fall from grace, his soul warm on your hand… 

"Oh, now I miss you terribly. Coming home to me doesn't sound like such a bad idea now, does it?"

"It sounds like a lovely idea. In fact, I'm going to release these kids from their torment and head right back home to my dear wife."

You could hear the faint sound of Nobara's cheering from the other end of the call, closely followed by a short yet reassuring farewell from your husband. 

"I'll see you later."

Yes. 

"I'll see you, Toru."

— Une Douce Folie à Deux.

~ Third Day of the Sister School Goodwill Event.

Your last visit to your alma mater felt like an eternity ago, even though it was only earlier in the year that you'd been here to assist the Doctor, Shoko, with Yuuji's supposed dissection. This time was different since you were there for leisure— initially, at least. You planned on visiting the event to cheer for Tokyo, but when you received yet another distress call from your friend, you were brought in as an auxiliary healer to patch up everyone's injuries from the skirmishes. 

It was there that you were also reunited with your senpais Mei Mei and Utahime, the former still trying to get you to cry into a vial she planned on passing as an elixir to sell for a fortune, and the latter cringing at how even more unbearable and uncharacteristically tender Satoru was whenever you were around. 

And there was Nanami, too, who had just clocked out for the second day even though it was only just beginning. 

"Oh! Kento!" You called out to the figure about to depart from the school grounds. "Heading home already?"

"Yes. I promised dinner with Chi, after all."

"Ever the dutiful husband, I see," you nodded in assent, the kind he knew you were teasing him with. "Don't get lost on the way out."

"Don't talk to me like that. I know you're here only in part because of the students. You're mostly here for your husband," he replied to you with a small scoff meant to get a rise out of you. 

"Wh— I'll have you know that Toru and I haven't even seen each other yet! And I am here for the students! As are you, I know that much!" You retorted with hands on your hips. "Kento… I still dream of a world so similar to what Suguru-san envisioned! A world for us sorcerers. It doesn't have to be exactly ours, but just enough for us to be able to… to smile more freely… without the threat of death looming over us so wickedly. So… Let's do all we can to help them!"

"Still an idealist, I see. But that isn't a bad thing…" Nanami chuckled mirthlessly, but he turned to face you and gave you the same nod of assent to your statement. "If that's what we're working towards, then I have no qualms."

After a day of reprieve, each of the students was fitted with baseball uniforms, gloves, and steel bats, a change of pace from the traditional individual battles you would often see on this day of the Goodwill Event.

"—en he burst out of the box with that stupid 'Oppappi!' comment of his! It wasn't funny at all! It was infuriating!"

A soft pfft left your lips as the young girl sitting next to you continued her tirade following Yuuji's reemergence in Jujutsu society. This year's Goodwill Event took a different turn— and you only heard from Nanami how the Kyoto students went rogue and attempted to assassinate Yuuji during the group spirit bash-slash-battle royale, followed by the cursed spirits infiltrating the campus. 

"Anyway, we're so happy to see you, Otome-san! You being here means Gojo-sensei won't be as annoying," Nobara said as she gently laid her head on your shoulder. "I still find it so odd that you married that mess of a man. He's all over the place and you're so well put together, after all!"

"There, there. If you think he's an annoying teacher, you should've met him when he was younger," you laughed softly as you gave the younger girl a pat on her head. "Megumi-kun knows all about that Satoru."

"Otome-san has the patience of a saint," the dark-haired boy remarked from his seat. "You could say that her love for him outweighs all the headaches he's given her."

"I recall Satoru isn't the only one who gave me a lot of headaches back then," you said with a small hum. "You are that man's son, after all…"

"Talk about a problem child! Did you always give your mom a hard time, Fushiguro?!" Nobara burst out laughing at your statement, while Megumi shot you a look of slight annoyance and embarrassment, a rare sight now that he's older and mellowed out.

"Only because she has the patience of a saint," he chuckled, a hint of defeat and acceptance in his voice. "And only because she knows me so well."

Megumi rarely asked you for anything nowadays, so when he (was coerced by Nobara and Yuuji to) ask you to treat him (them) to cold drinks from the school vending machines, you happily obliged. 

"Hello."

You were surprised to see one of the girls from Kyoto approach you, her sharp yet charming features a clear indication of which clan she belonged to. 

"Hello. You're Mai-chan, aren't you? Maki-chan's sister," you replied to her, stepping away from the vending machines to give her your full attention. She was alone, and it was clear to you now that she intended to talk to you.

About what, you didn't know exactly.

"And you're Otome-san. Growing up, we've heard much about you," Mai stated. "And how you brought the Zenin Clan's heir to his knees—"

"—Physically and figuratively," came another voice— and a face more familiar to you as she made her approach. "Hello, Otome-san."

"I normally wouldn't want to be anywhere near you, Maki, but seeing as we both have the same question, it'd be better for Otome-san to explain it to us in one sitting," Mai said with an exasperated sigh and a shrug. "I assume you have the same question for her."

"I do. Great minds think alike, after all," Maki scoffed. "And not even Megumi or that blindfolded brute had an answer to it. Not that they really care."

"That person is the victor, so of course he doesn't care," Mai shook her head. "But enough about them. Let's not waste any more of Otome-san's time."

"I have a lot of time, so ask me whatever you want," you told the girls with a smile on your face. 

"Why didn't you marry him?" They asked in unison, much to their mutual annoyance. 

Do they mean…?

There was a glint of curiosity in their similar amber eyes, but they didn't look like they were burning for an answer. They simply wanted to know— to satiate the wonder they felt and to resolve the mystery their family had long tried to entomb. 

"Naoya-san was nothing but kind to me in our youth. In fact, I was this close to marrying him," you stated as you brought your thumb and index finger close together, though not touching at all. "There was something odd about him, though. Like he was trying too hard to be someone he wasn't."

"You mean he was trying hard to be kind," Maki stated pointedly. "Because he isn't, Otome-san."

"Whatever image you have of him likely isn't his true disposition," Mai said in agreement with her sister's statement. "He is such a great pretender, after all."

Naoya had always been a puzzle to you even in your youth, but the simplest things always made him incredibly happy. He always said it himself— your presence, your warmth, your smile— Though you've heard time and again of his real personality… Then where exactly did the truth end and the lie begin? 

The sisters gave you a long look as you stood there in silence, obviously taking in the weight of their words. 

"There must be truth to your statements if you are in agreement," you told them. "Can you tell me, then, what kind of person he really is?"

"He's—"

"—A devil." 

"He…"

Oh. Then the truth begins here, I guess. The twins looked like they wanted to comfort each other as their words spilled out, truth upon truth about the Zenin heir's proclivity for treating the women of their clan like utter trash. It made you wonder how you could have been exempt from it. The Naoya you knew— the one you thought you knew— You'd never learn the truth about who he was without anyone telling you. He was an unfinished puzzle you placed in a box never to be seen again, but these girls handed you the missing pieces in the form of revelations— things they thought you ought to know. Even though you chose not to marry him. 

"I think you dodged a bullet, Otome-san." 

"More like a bomb."

"I understand it must have taken a lot of courage to speak up about… all of that. And I have no idea how differently things could have gone if I ended up marrying Naoya-san," you started. "But he and I… We knew from the start that things would never work out between us. We never saw visions when we touched, either…"

The visions and colors were only part of what they had to anticipate as sorcerers. The girls exchanged equal looks of confusion before Maki eventually asked you, "Can you explain to us what the colors mean, Otome-san?"

"Oh, of course! It was said long ago that when you touch someone and see colors, you're touching that person's very soul. Satoru and I— Well, it first happened when we were children, s-so…" You continued until your embarrassment slowly started settling in. "A-Anyway, since you're here, would you girls like a drink, too?"

There was no doubt in your mind that these girls were twins from how their eyes twinkled in excitement at the thought of free sweet and fizzy drinks. "If you're buying, then don't mind if I do, Otome-san!"

"Oh, but, Maki-chan, you looked like you wanted to say something… about the colors," you said as you handed the twins a ¥500 coin each. "Have you perhaps… with someone?"

"W-With all due respect, th-that's really n-none of your concern, Otome-san!" The girl clamored, though it was clear from the blush that painted her face that it must have already happened. You stifled your laughter in fear of offending the Maki, who was already arguing with Mai, a smirk on her face as she laughed at the older girl with distinct derision.

The week's exhaustion settled easily in your body, the ache soon forgotten the moment your head hit your pillow. How your husband managed to run through the day without ever getting tired was no mystery to you anymore, but he must have his limits. 

You and Satoru rarely shared your bed ever since he started teaching, and you accepted that as a reality of your marriage. Neither of you blamed each other, nor did you find any fault in your current circumstances. His job as a teacher was a noble calling, and on top of that also came his many missions mandated to him by Jujutsu Headquarters. He only ever dropped by the estate to see you whenever he could, at varying intervals, too. While sleep was the least of his concerns, it was something you took incredibly seriously. A lack of sleep meant a lack of concentration, and that was your currency as a healer. 

So you simply learned to be an afterthought— and to sleep without your husband's presence— because so many other important things warranted his attention more. On yet another dreamless night, you stirred in your futon as you felt movement in your bedroom. It was a person sliding right next to you, lifting your kakefuton just enough for them to be able to scoot over and take their spot as the big spoon. 

"Did I wake ya, sweet thing?" 

Oh, it was Satoru. You didn't bother to blink away the sleep in your eyes and simply nuzzled the warm body right next to you. A strong yet tender hand made its way to the back of your head, holding you close as you drifted back to sleep once more. 

"Hhhello… I love you… Good night…" You mumbled against his chest, to which he replied with a soft but low laugh. His heartbeat and voice reverberated through your body, and you wanted nothing more than to be as close to him as possible after having missed him for so long. Satoru's whispers were lost to the air, your half-asleep brain no longer registering anything aside from your husband gently brushing up the hair on your forehead, lulling you into an even deeper sleep. He placed a kiss on your forehead, running down to your eyes, your cheeks, your jaw— until the sleepiness in your body was chased away by the warmth of his caress, his large hands slowly but contentedly peeling away at your yukata.

What was supposed to be yet another dreamless night was colored a pale powder blue, like a spell cast upon you that guaranteed nothing but sweet, pleasant dreams. 

You never thought it would be the prelude to a never-ending nightmare. 

— The Shibuya Incident.

The Koganei Estate was nearly caught in the crosshairs of the Shibuya Incident. Though not called on to the field of battle, you decided to assist by opening your gates to shelter wounded sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike. You were at the forefront of the deluge of people seeking refuge, hearing from those who managed to escape that it may soon be the end of human society in Japan as they speak.

The golden haori you now wore signified your status and duty as the head of your house, and all of your clansmen deferred their decisions to you, choosing to trust your instincts

"Koganei-sama, please! We must close the gates this instant! Harboring any more would—"

"No! These people have no place to run! We have a sworn duty to protect everyone from this—"

"What a noble heart you have. It looks like some things never change."

It was a presence, a cursed energy so strong and distinct that you froze in your tracks, your eyes quickly scanning your vicinity to confirm if what you were feeling was true.

"No… No way… You— You're not—" You tried to stop the crack in your voice, only to fail the moment you started angrily questioning the man standing before you. "Who are you?!"

"You're right about that, Priestess of Suzaku. I am not Geto Suguru, though you could say I still am him," Suguru stated with a smile— oh, it was so painful to look at. "This body holds fond memories of you and your little youth… Your time as sorcerers in the making. Before his disillusionment."

Bittersweet remembrances of two years of your youth passed by in the blink of an eye as you stood face to face with a man you once called your senpai and friend. A person you could never hate, no matter how much your society did. 

And something inside you snapped, an unrecognizable lust for carnage boiling in your veins as you got into a battle stance. I know I probably don't stand a chance against this anomaly, but— "I won't allow you to desecrate my friend's body any longer! Give him back!" 

"You're also the Bride of the Six Eyes now, correct?" He had a thoughtful hand on his chin before declaring, "I suppose Gojo Satoru taught you to fight, then, if you're this eager?"

"Otome! What are you doing?!" 

The gates to your estate were closed shut now by your order, followed by the electric appearance of the Koganei Clan's strongest sorcerer of your time: it was Kazuya, or so people call him— Raiden incarnate.

"Ah," Suguru exclaimed, the light of an epiphany in his eyes as he gazed at your human shield, the lightning he inherited from his father coursing through his whole body as he shielded you from the stranger's slow approach. "What a discovery. Yes, he'll do perfectly. You must know of your ancestor's insatiable greed. He and I made a pact a long time ago, and I'm here to fulfill it. But until then, your… brother can play the role you intended for him."

"Kazuya—" You didn't like the sound of Suguru's declaration, even more so now that he turned his attention to your brother. "Leave m—"

"Are you crazy?! I'm not leaving you alone with this… this madman!"

While Suguru busied himself in taking control of jujutsu society, he made a special exception for a certain sorcerer family, but only because they may prove useful in the future. He is further elated by the looming possibility of recovering the primordial and most potent Golden Tears of Suzaku itself with the discovery of an ideal host for the pathetic patriarch of the Koganei Clan— a man long dead but his ambition kept alive by every head of your clan.

Koganei Masahito.

"Oh, but before I forget. Your outrage is a little misplaced, isn't it?" The person wearing Suguru's face turned to you this time, a hand in his sleeve as though ready to pull out something unexpected. And unexpected it truly was, the heavy, unexplainable feeling in your chest a while ago now making perfect sense to you.

"You—"

The rest of your words were caught in your throat again as you laid eyes on the cursed object in the impostor's hand, a taunting smirk on his face that made your blood run freezing cold and piping hot at the same time. You were both frightened and furious at the inexplicable sight— the solid proof of your husband's detainment and the inevitable truth spoken by the sorcerers you rescued mere moments ago.

It may just be the end of human society.

More than anything, someone most precious was taken from you— again.

"GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!"

All your common sense left your body as you lunged past Kazuya, replaced by a fury that would unmistakably scorch anyone who got in your way. Unfortunately, you were painfully knocked back by a single stroke of Suguru's cursed energy. 

"Otome!" 

In your days as young students, Geto Suguru always took it easy on you when engaging in combat training. Everything you learned from your teachers and upperclassmen was supposedly your means of defending yourself in battle. You were no combatant, no fighter, but a talisman instead— your greater purpose always lay in mending what was hurt. You knew right from the start that you had no hope of ever defeating Suguru, but never in your wildest dreams did you even consider going against him. Until now. The real Suguru would never hurt you. 

Your tears burned your cheeks as they blurred your vision of the impostor's receding figure, the essence mixing with the dirt of the ground as you lay there at a complete loss.

"Satoru…"

~ November 3, 2018

"Ah!"

There was something uncanny about this, though the scenario was completely familiar��� you were sixteen again, in your jet-black school uniform while listening to the sound of the coffee table jazz that softly emanated throughout the cafe. 

This was Cafe Lilico. And across the table laden with all of your favorite afterschool snacks sat your two closest friends. Nanami and his furrowed brows as he sipped from his cup of black coffee. Haibara savoring the umami goodness of his bowl of katsudon. They sat there, faces as clear as day, as though you three were reliving a precious moment suspended in time.

"What's the matter, Otome?" Haibara asked, a look of concern on his face and a grain of rice on his chin as he gestured to your slightly melting cream soda. "Not hungry?" 

"I'm not surprised you don't have much of an appetite," Nanami stated with a pensive smile on his face as he placed his cup back on its saucer. "And I'm not going to ask you if you've been well…"

"I… Huh. What was I doing again?" You murmured to yourself, your voice just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "Where have we been?"

"Haibara's been here a while. I just got here," the blonde said. "And you…"

Your table glistened with every single thing you've partaken with your friends in his very place— black coffee, sweet teas, creamy frappes and cream sodas, berry tarts, classic New York-style cheesecake, salt and pepper fish and chips, and sweet potato fries—

"Can you do me a favor, Otome?" 

"Of course, Kento. Though it's rare for you to ask…" You answered him, your fingers reaching for the fork on the floral table napkin. 

Huh. Did that chandelier always look like that?

"Can…" He paused to carefully consider his choice of words. "Can you tell Chi that I love her?"

"What?" You chucked at him. "Kento, what do you mean by that? You can always tell Chiemi that—"

"And that I'm sorry. For leaving like this."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nanami! So you did get married to Chiemi-san! How lucky you are!" Haibara exclaimed excitedly.

"Luck had little to do with that marriage," Nanami stated with an uncharacteristically warm smile on his usually calm face. "Chiemi changed by her own will." 

"Wait, Kento. I-I don't understand! What do you mean you're leaving?"

"You know I always thought that your selflessness would get you killed," he remarked as he turned in your direction once more. "I never realized it might be your stupidity instead." 

"Don't say that, Nanami! She isn't dead yet!" Haibara elbowed him before reaching out to ruffle your hair. "This will always be our favorite place, but you really shouldn't be here yet, Otome." 

"Haibara's right. As much as we'd enjoy having you here, it isn't time yet. Your time, that is," Nanami stated as he moved to reach for your hand, only for him to stop midway and sit back once again. "We'll always save you a seat, so don't worry."

"…?"

"Sh… She's awake! Otome's awake! Okaa-sama! Kanade-san!" Your older brother's rumbling voice shook you awake even further, and he rose to his feet to call for your mother, who stood vigil outside your shared bedroom with your husband. The kakefuton over your tired body felt insanely dense, but you fought back the weight and sat up, only to be met by Chiemi's red face. 

"Onee-chan! K-Kento is—"

"Oh, is he finally back home? I had the strangest dream about him…" You said as you rubbed away the bleariness of your eyes. "He asked me to tell you that he loves you dearly. I don't understand why I have to be the one to tell you when—"

The silence that enveloped your room was palpable, the servants attending to you furrowing their brows in evident sorrow. Your confusion was only confounded by the way your sister's face contorted with tears as she wailed and sobbed into your shoulder, her tears of agony soaking your yukata.

"Kento is gone! Onii received the report in your stead and—" Chiemi hiccuped, her face red and blue with so much pain she couldn't even breathe anymore. "WAAAAAAAH!"

…What?

But that can't be. You were only talking to him just moments ago. 

"A-And p-papa— Papa! He—"

No, not otou-sama, too… Is that why Kazuya only called for your mothers when you awoke? Kyouya was a father figure to both you and Chiemi, a man of integrity who did not think it was a tedious chore to raise children who weren't entirely his. His kindness was in stark contrast to Suzuna's dictatorial and mercurial methods. You placed a hand on your sister's shaking head and fought the urge to collapse. Your surroundings blurred into a mess of gray, her cries drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears. It was deafening.

You could hardly hear a word your mothers said as they clamored over you, with Suzuna trying to pull Chiemi away from you. Her eyes were just as red from all her crying, unseen it was to you. From what you gathered after finally being briefed by Kazuya, you were asleep for three days. You didn't expect the impostor's cursed energy to be so potent that it nearly brought you to death's doorstep.

Yet Kazuya took the liberty of steering your clan in the direction he thought was best despite the loss he felt. A patch of darkened skin now ran across his forehead. It was a burn mark— one meant to obscure a symbol that appeared on him unnaturally. Even with your clan's most elite healers, the burn now scarred his otherwise handsome face, though he preferred it that way since it now served as a reminder for him. 

And for you. And everyone else in your estate. 

With all of your family, guests, and rescues accounted for, you surveyed the estate with uneasy steps, your older brother leading the way. "Kazu-nii, I'm sorry about otou-sama."

Kazuya shook his head at you as you walked alongside each other. "Otou-sama did what he wanted. When he saw me changing form, he just did what any father would have done…"

He recounted the incident that occurred while you were unconscious. As though heeding the sound of a war gong, Kenjaku awakened hundreds of sorcerers from ages past, the mark on your brother symbolizing his selection as a vessel of that man. 

"Our souls fought for dominance over my body. Rebelling against him was difficult, even though it should've been easy with my concentration. I'd never let that man— That man… he started all of this. Our clan's obsession with birthing his most perfect heir," he stated as he led you to the estate garden, the ground nearly flooded with fallen ginkgo leaves. "I was very much similar to a tsukumogami at that point, but they seemed to have forgotten my father's ties to the Tokyo Saenome, who specialized in sealing such things."

"If otou-sama sealed away Masahito, where exactly…"

"Here," Kazuya touched the aged tree trunk. It towered over the place, the golden foliage as thick and rich as it always was. 

"In the tree?" 

"Masahito was never meant to return to our realm. Men like him… don't deserve any second chances at life. Otou-sama made sure of that."

You approached the tree and rested your forehead against the old bark. Tears threatened to flow from your eyes but you desperately fought them back. "Kyouya otou-sama… I'll be sure to protect everyone…"

"I understand that you're worried about Satoru, but there are certain things we need to do. We're still harboring refugees as we speak. And there's that… thing with Jujutsu Headquarters. Something about how unsealing Satoru is tantamount to a criminal act." 

"I don't give a shit what headquarters think, Kazu-nii," you stated with gritted teeth. "I know they'll be keeping tabs on us because I am his wife, after all. But I have faith in Satoru and his pupils. They'll find a way to free him. And he would want me to act however I wished to. He said it himself when he made that silly declaration of marriage."

"Ah, that we'd be free to do whatever we wanted?"

"Yes. Right now, I want to talk to the sorcerers who managed to escape the curtain in Shibuya. I need to gain a better understanding of the situation before I make my next steps."

Those three days you were unconscious felt like an eternity with everything that had transpired. You wasted no time conversing with the handful of young sorcerers who managed to flee from the setting curtain that enclosed Shibuya like a trap set to lay waste to the city— and another that kept them out instead. There was no doubt in your mind that all of these incidents were strung together by a single malefactor… Or worse— a group of them… 

And the fact that they managed to seal Satoru in the Prison Realm meant they already had a foothold in whatever it was they were planning to do. 

As you continued to compare the recent reports your house received from Jujutsu Headquarters and the recollections of the sorcerers you spoke to, Chiemi entered your messy office. Though she changed into a clean yukata, she looked even more emaciated than you remembered her to be, her eyes red and sunken and golden hair tied in a neat braid. It was clear that Nanami's death impacted her so, but her single statement sounded clear and precise to you. 

"Onee-chan, I'd like to ask for your permission to leave our home. To leave Japan."

"Chiemi, what are you…?"

The younger woman said no more and soundlessly left your office, her presence replaced by the appearance of her birth father, Prospero. The older man wasn't spared from the chaos left in the wake of your coma. You heard from Kazuya how he assisted in protecting your estate and the refugees that flooded your home using his cursed technique. He's a master of barriers, apparently, Kazuya mentioned. Most importantly, he grounded Chiemi after receiving the shocking news of her husband's death while in action. 

"Hello, Miss Otome. I'm so glad to see you're doing better now," the older man greeted you with a smile so akin to his daughter's. 

"Prospero-san, If you hadn't been here, we all would have died," you replied and lowered your head to the tatami. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart… For protecting my family."

"Please, there is no need for you to prostrate yourself before me. I simply did what any father would have done to protect his daughter and all those precious to her," he said, clamping a hand on your shoulder to gently pull you up to your feet. "I am sorry I couldn't do anything about Mister Kyouya…"

"No, don't be," you shook your head at him. "Kazuya told me you did all you could to save him, too. Otou-sama simply did what he thought was right— what he wanted…"

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, holding it in for a moment in fear that you may burst out crying. Now wasn't the time for any of that.  

"I heard from Chiemi that our family received that report…" You stated, pursing your lips before your voice could crack any further. "I've no intention of barring your departure, but where exactly does she intend to go?"

"As you know, she was inconsolable for the last few days… When she said she wanted to go to Malaysia, I… told her that we could."

Something in your head clicked. Malaysia. 

"She said that it was Kento-kun's idea. Something they spoke about before… Perhaps they were planning a trip?"

No, it was something more. You recalled Nanami talking about the same thing sometime back. 

"Otome, do you think Chi will be happy to go with me if we move somewhere far?"

"Kento, Chi would follow you to the ends of the earth if you'd let her."

"If you're worried about her, rest assured that I'll take care of her. I can help her find a home and get settled there. Chi has been doing her best to take care of herself because if she lets her broken heart get the better of her, it won't do the baby any good. My grandchild will gro—"

As though the weight of the circumstances couldn't be any heavier— "The… The baby?"

"Has… she not told you yet? Chi is pregnant," Prospero said, his eyes widening in shock as you scrambled to your feet and gave chase to your sister, who was simply standing in the middle of the estate gardens. "M-Miss Otome?!" 

"Chi! Chiemi!" You tried to scream, but your throat wouldn't let you. Your hoarse voice still caught her attention, and she turned to you with the same practiced elegance you've always been familiar with. 

"Onee-chan? What's the matter?" 

You fell to your knees, clinging onto the skirt of her yukata before eventually breaking down at her feet. "Did… Did he at least know?! A-About the baby!" 

Chiemi visibly trembled before she crumbled to her knees as well, coiling her arms around your tearful form as she shook her head at your question. Her sorrowful sobs filled your ears as she tried to speak. "I only f-found out on the day of his m-mission…"

Why are these things happening? Wondering will do you no favors. You returned her embrace and cried, your warm tears soaking her braid. "Please… If you're going to leave, please take care of yourself!… Eat well, drink a lot of water, and sleep well… A-And if anything happens, call me! C-Call us! W—"

You two wept like children that afternoon, crying over things of the past, the tragedies of the present, and the hope of a future, one where this blessed child can live without the shadow of your society looming over them. 

"As I thought, normal comms are a bust. I can't contact Shoko or anyone else in Shibuya," you stated as you tossed your mobile phone into your favorite purse. You were no longer dressed in your clan's traditional garb but in civilian clothing this time, donning a favorite outfit of yours from your closet as you made up your mind…

With all of your affairs set in order, along with a faked story about an "illness" not even you could cure yourself from, you intended to steal away and reach out to the sorcerers attempting to unseal your husband from the Prison Realm without Jujutsu Headquarters ever noticing your disappearance. Suzuna "claimed" her clan had always been "detached" from Gojo Satoru and only enjoyed the privileges that came with being under his protection, but that did not mean the Koganei were accomplices to his "plot" surrounding the Shibuya Incident. The Koganei Clan kept up the appearance of a neutral and indifferent front, pacified by the threat of expulsion from headquarters. 

Kazuya was more than capable of protecting the estate if anything went awry, not to mention the presence of Chiemi's father Prospero, who vowed to hold the fort with the eldest son of the house— at least until order is fully restored in Tokyo.

"The city's a ghost town. We're lucky the warzone didn't even reach us," Kazuya shook his head. "Though if you look at things now, we're only fortunate to have been spared from the destruction thanks to Chi-chan's old man."

"You ought to start addressing Prospero-san properly, Kazu-nii," you pointed at him. "We owe him a great deal, after all."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," your older brother shrugged in dismissal. "All of this is flying over my head, you know. Satoru is the greatest sorcerer of our time. I never thought that headquarters would actually want him gone."

"They originally wanted him to be more… tame," you replied as you eyed the eerie and starless night sky. "Maybe I should leave tomorrow instead… But I can't afford to lose any more time."

The two of you were on high alert the moment you sensed a foreign cursed energy seamlessly pass through the curtain over the estate. Kazuya stepped forward, his lightning coursing through his arms as the presence made itself known. 

"Oh, it's you!" You remarked in relief at the sight of that familiar pristine white Jujutsu High uniform. "Yuuta-kun!"

"Good evening, Otome-san, Kazuya-san," the young, dark-eyed sorcerer approached and gave you a short bow, to which you replied by taking his hands in your own. 

"I'm so relieved…" You murmured to him, a tired yet relieved sigh leaving your lips as you finally turned to face him. "I'm used to being an afterthought, Yuuta-kun. After all, Satoru is much more important than I am…"

"You're not an afterthought, Otome-san," Yuuta shook his head at you. "I'm here because I have my orders. Orders I intend to follow. One of which is your safekeeping—"

"Take me to Shoko. I'm not so brittle that you'd have me hide away. I can help heal people. I will help heal people. And I certainly don't intend to wring my fingers in anticipation of his unsealing, Yuuta-kun. I'd rather be helpful. To you. And to everyone else," you stated, cutting off his further explanation. You turned to your older brother and gave him a low bow. "Kazu-nii… I'll leave the estate to you." 

Kazuya acknowledged your resolve with a stern nod, reflecting his own. "I will protect this place with my life, Koganei-sama."

"Gojo-sensei said you'd be like this… But I guess this is also who you are as a person, Otome-san," The young man sighed in defeat before eventually acknowledging as well that there was no stopping you. "Shall we be off to see Ieiri-san, then?"

With your husband's pupil guaranteeing your safe passage, there was nothing else stopping you from unraveling the mysteries of this eternal night in Shibuya. "Yes, let's go."

The endless nightmare has only just begun, after all.

— Dreamless.

~ November 18, 2018.

"Is your marriage to Gojo all you've ever imagined it to be, Otome?"

The question was incredibly random, and it evidently caught you off guard by the sound of the utensils you were washing clattering against the stainless steel sink. 

"Are we so tired of waiting that you've decided to cross-examine me, Shoko?" 

"I know you guys fucked when we were still in school, too, but you didn't hear anything from me," Shoko retorted as she stubbed out her finished cigarette. "Just answer the question."

"Sh-Shoko!" 

Not long after escorting you to Jujutsu High, where Shoko had returned to resume her normal operations, Yuuta departed to complete the "mission" assigned to him by headquarters, though you'd called his bluff earlier on. When you first arrived at the morgue to assist her, it took every fiber in your being to hold yourself back from hurling at the scent and the state of the place. 

It smelled of death. 

The days blurred into a single mess of death, and defying the grim circumstances dealt by the malefactor parading Geto Suguru's body as his own. Your pride as a jujutsu sorcerer didn't let you admit that the losses piling up at your feet were hurting you more than you let on. It would be embarrassing to be upstaged by younger sorcerers, who bravely took to the field of battle despite all the heartache they felt. 

Despite it all…

You counted each loss, each one just as woefully dense as the next. First was Nanami, then your father figure Kyouya, then Tsumiki— that girl who wanted nothing more than to live a life in harmony with you and Satoru, and Megumi. It was foul enough that Sukuna stole your boy's body, but to have used it as a weapon against his own sister was the cruelest. Yuuji had nothing but apologies for you when you last met, the boy lamenting his lack of strength for everything. 

What do you mean, you asked Yuuji, tears blurring your eyes at the sight of his scarred visage. None of this is your fault. None of this is your fault, Yuuji-kun— 

Despite it all…

"I've loved Satoru for the longest time. Ours has always been a case of, 'he fell first but she fell harder'…" You replied to your friend's earlier question with a small smile on your face, a thoughtful hand on your chin as you recounted your very first encounter with the little godling who became your husband. "Though it's really more like, 'I fell in front of him and he thought I was weird but also cute'."

You told her all about the ordeal that was your seventh birthday and how your younger sister pushed you off the engawa while you were stretching your legs, falling face first in front of the enigma that was Gojo Satoru. 

"To say I was happy that he reciprocated my feelings is an understatement," you said as you sat on one of the vacant couches across from your friend. "I was… elated. And Satoru and I made the most of whatever time we had together because we each had our responsibilities to our families… and all of that whatnot."

"And your marriage. Is it all you've ever imagined it to be?" 

"I…"

You could wish time and again for things to be entirely different. A different life, a different timeline, a different world— but now was all you had. The "now" you had was still better than any image of a perfect present you could ever conjure in your mind. Now was imperfect, but it was all you had. Now was everything. 

Despite it all…

"I couldn't ask for anything better. We wouldn't dare ask for anything better," you told her with a slight quake in your voice, a slight hint of regret in your voice that betrayed your thoughts. "This is the world we were born into, after all. This world has you, our friends and allies, Satoru's promising pupils…"

And hope, despite it all, you thought as you followed Shoko to where Kurusu Hana and "Angel" were recovering after receiving treatment for the grave wounds inflicted by the Sukuna-possessed Megumi. 

"Are you sure you don't want to be around when your idiot husband is unsealed?"

"It's fine. I'd rather not be around to dampen everyone's mood with all of my crying, which I'm sure to do," you said in confirmation as you raised your hand in defense. "Besides, I'm used to being an afterthought, Shoko."

"You're just as much of an idiot as he is," the dark-haired woman scoffed at you, but only out of worry, you easily noticed. "Explains why you're still in complete marital bliss after all that's happened."

~ November 20, 2018.

With Gojo Satoru's release from the Prison Realm came the hope of a victory against the rampaging King of Curses. But hope didn't mean complete optimism about things. Satoru himself wanted to know all about the contingency plans his company had if the worst ever came to pass. 

Having caught up with everything that occurred in his absence, he figured he was at least entitled to his own moment of reprieve. His students haven't had enough of him, though, and Yuuji was particularly curious where he was headed to with such a relaxed disposition— and appearance. 

Satoru was known as an impeccable dresser, so for him to be walking around the school premises in nothing but a hoodie and jogger pants meant questions. 

"Where are you off to, Gojo-sensei?"

"What do you mean, 'where am I off to?' I'm going to see my wife! A man can do that much, can't he? I haven't seen her since I got out of that damn box!"

"Huh… Now that you mentioned it, where is Otome-san? I haven't—"

"Oh, that's just mean, Itadori-kun. Otome-san's been helping take care of everyone for quite some time now, you know," Yuuta remarked with a small laugh, his comment sending his underclassman into a slight panic. 

"You can't blame Itadori for not noticing every single person here," said Kinji, who slung a strong arm around the spooked younger boy. "Your wife doesn't speak much, does she, Gojo-san? She's so typically genteel that people can't help but wonder why you married her." 

"Genteel? I'm not sure if we're talking about the same person," Satoru laughed at his pupil's statement. "And for the record, I asked her to marry me. Now if you guys can excuse this old man for just one second?" 

"So you know where she's been staying?"

"Of course I do! And it's not just because of my Six Eyes. I know the way a husband knows his wife," the silver-haired man stated with his usual cheer. 

And the way the sky knows the sun can't hide itself, he thought to himself as he leisurely strolled past the kids and headed to one of the school's older buildings

"You think Gojo-sensei's mad that Otome-san wasn't the first to greet him when he was unsealed?" Yuuji mused out loud, to which Yuuta replied with another low laugh.

"I'm sure Otome-san would've wanted nothing more than to be the first to greet him, but she was just being considerate of everyone else."

While it was true that you wanted to be at the forefront of the people greeting your husband once he was released from the Prison Realm, you couldn't promise anyone that you wouldn't be a sobbing mess… So you busied yourself with other things— like keeping inventory of the infirmary, a duty you were most familiar with since it was your primary task as a student of Jujutsu High nearly a decade ago. 

But since your graduation, there has been a lack of reverse cursed technique users, leaving the infirmary unused and eventually converted into further storage for the school to use. Boxes piled up and filled nearly the entire room, and all that remained from the days of your youth was a single dusty and rickety bed, which you converted into a little nook for yourself to rest whenever your assistance wasn't required. While you liked hanging around Shoko, you didn't like how everyone else walked on eggshells around you. 

Those who weren't familiar with you considered you an anomalous figure. There was no doubt in your mind that some also considered you to be an ill-fitted match with Satoru, someone who wasn't suited to be the wife of the strongest sorcerer of your generation. 

…The strongest sorcerer of your generation… 

"S-Satoru… Y-You're heavy!" You heaved as he comfortably draped his entire weight over your figure, the metal bed creaking as you struggled and thumped at his broad back to move, or you will die from your ribs caving into your lungs. "I c-can't breathe! Ack!"

"What? If I didn't come out looking for you, you would've never shown yourself to me!" Satoru huffed as he lifted himself from you and sat up. "You weren't there when I was unsealed, and you weren't the one who conducted my examination, either…"

"That wasn't my intention…" You told him, lowering your gaze to your hands. "You must've seen it, right? How everyone's been waiting for you… And besides, knowing myself, I know I'd just cry and ruin everyone else's celebr—"

Oh. The tears came uninvited. You pursed your lips and cupped a hand to your mouth to silence your pathetic sobbing.

"My sweet little bird," Satoru couldn't help but coo at you, his larger hands affectionately cupping your warm face as he kissed away the tears that filled the corners of your eyes. "Am I not allowed to be upset anymore? You pull your waterworks on me, and all I want to do now is just hold you."

"I'm sorry…" You managed to whisper to him as you coiled your arms around his neck. 

"Don't be, sweetheart. If anything, the one apologizing should be me." 

"You don't have to apologize for anything, either, Satoru…" 

"Are you kidding? This whole mess—"

"—Is not your fault, Satoru," you quickly retorted, returning his earlier gesture by cupping his face in your smaller hands this time. 

"At least allow me to be sorry for a few things. Like Nanami," he said with a defeated chuckle. "And your old man."

"Oh, now that you mentioned Kento, I just remembered Chi-chan said Takkun should come see her one of these days. I think she has something for him. Maybe we can return to the estate together after all of this…" You mused, taking your husband's hands in yours. "And I know you've got a mountain of tasks waiting for you, but your birthday is coming up…"

"Don't sweat it, sweetheart. I'll always have time for my wife," he said, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "There are some things I have to do before we can celebrate. The first order of things is to defeat Sukuna and bring back Megumi. Then there's this other thing."

"Toru, you rarely ask me for favors. If there's anything I can help you with…"

You caught the glint of danger in his blue eyes, his tempered anger silenced as he raised your knuckles to his lips, his feathery lashes lowered to a close as he sat in contemplation. "No. This other thing… This is something I should've done a long, long time ago. I'll end this vicious cycle myself."  

"The way you're going…" You said, swallowing the lump in your throat as you held his face in your hands once more. "Satoru, you're headed somewhere I can't follow." 

But I understand. 

No, you didn't. Even as Satoru's wife— the one he shared his bed with and sometimes the innermost breathings of his heart— you could never claim to fully understand him… but you loved him, and that was enough for him. Satoru didn't mind being misunderstood even by you, though he knew you were aware of the depths of his loneliness as he stood at the precipice, overseeing everything. 

"I don't want you to follow me. I don't want anyone to."

"I won't." 

You nodded at him, holding back tears. Before you knew it, his palm was on the crown of your head, ruffling your hair. 

"Good girl."

— Side by Side.

~ December 2018.

The candlelight crackled softly between you and your husband, the heat scaring away the chill of this December night. The silver moonlight only seeped into a crack between the closed doors. The Koganei Estate was subsequently vacated, its residents ushered to Kyoto to live under the wing of the existing Gojo Clan. In a sense, it was like you and Satoru were the only people in the world at that very moment. 

"Oh? Are you actually sleepy already?" You teasingly asked Satoru, who lay motionless on your futon, his yukata haphazardly closed. On your desk were two letters that looked to have been completed only recently. "Are these for…?"

His expression was quiet and a bit unreadable, but you could sense the gravity of the moment from the way his eyes clenched close. The all-seeing eyes he's had ever since he was born have never failed him, but for once in his life, he wanted to turn them off for good. You did not speak for a while, the crackling of the little spark filling the silence of the night. 

"I heard Kazuya already spoke to the people at home," he started, referring to his clansmen in Kyoto. "My family will keep yours safe, Otome, regardless of—"

"No, don't speak of likelihoods. You promised," you said, cutting him off from speaking any further. "You and I... We're not saying goodbye tonight."

"Of course not," Satoru chuckled to himself. He was prompted to sit up from his languorous recline when you slowly lowered yourself to straddle him, licking his lips in anticipation as he received you in his arms. Yet all of the mischief he felt receded as you faced him with eyes shining with tears that had yet to fall. 

"I would trade lives with you if I could. If I could spare you from this…" 

He opened his mouth to argue, but he bit his tongue. Rather than miring this evening with arguments and rhetoric, he held back, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. The silence spoke volumes of the comfort he felt whenever he was around you, and it was louder than any words could convey. 

Yet you knew deep down that there was no sparing him from this. His lot in life had been decided ever since he was born, ever since he tipped the delicate balance of Jujutsu society. You merely took comfort in the fact that you were one of the very few things he chose for himself. He was never a firm believer in fate, even from before, but you knew he must have thanked his lucky stars countless times now for blessing him with another half he actually liked.  

"I'll wait for you," you said, your voice hardly a whisper as you anchored yourself to him, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that shared a flavor of your intertwined past and the hope of a future yet uncertain. "Come home to me, okay?"

Satoru nodded. He nodded as he pulled you in for another kiss. He was in no position to make any promises, so he just said what you wanted to hear. Fortunately, it was all he wanted to say. 

"I love you."

You wept and you wept and spilled your tears and though his body was stitched back together, you couldn't stomach what the others wanted to do with it. Their reasoning faded in your ears. All you could hear was your pulse and heartbeat and the adrenaline snapping you upright. You thrashed the place and screamed until you tasted blood in your throat, until it spilled from the corners of your lips. Why is no one taking your side? Your husband just died. He just died, and they wanted him to return to the same playing field that killed him. What you felt in the moment weighed little compared to what had to be done. 

"—!"

The blackout was instantaneous, as though the adrenaline that soaked your blood had evaporated. Yuuta rushed to catch you in his arms, his brows furrowed in sorrow and vexation at the circumstances. "Otome-san always thought of herself as an afterthought, that she was neither important nor relevant to anyone. But she is Gojo-sensei's precious wife. You'll have to forgive her for reacting like this."

"I-Ieiri-san! She isn't breathing! O-Otome-san i—" Yuuji said in panic, his expression melting into one of horrified realization as he saw the ominous trickle of blood from under your skirt. "Wh-Why is she bleeding?! Is she—"

"Oh…"

The Koganei Estate was as quiet as you left it when you departed to join the other young sorcerers to watch your husband's death match. Golden ginkgo leaves rained over the gardens as they always did, regardless of the season. 

It was another queer dream, which could only mean you were at death's doorstep again, for fainting, of all reasons. You rubbed your temples hard enough to try and snap yourself out of this—

"Hello, pretty thing." 

It was Satoru, his image of your final night together standing before you, his yukata still haphazardly closed with a sloppy bow done on his sash. 

"Toru?…"

"I wouldn't let this grief take over you. You wouldn't want me to turn into a vengeful spirit now, would you?" He chuckled at you, mirthless but meaningful, but you could only shake your head in response to this phantasm standing before you. 

He wasn't real, but you were brought to your knees in utter desperation, clinging onto him as though your life depended on it. "This must be some kind of nightmare. But even if it is—" 

"It's a curse." 

"What?" 

Satoru knelt to meet your embrace, but it was only for a moment until he raised you to your feet. "I told you before, didn't I? There's no curse more twisted than love. Now, I need you to let me go slowly, sweetheart…" 

"No! Satoru! You can't leave me!" You shook your head in refusal again and again until he placed a soothing hand on your cheek, his blue eyes crinkling as he smiled at you. 

"You're so, so beautiful," he said as he pressed a tender kiss on your furrowed brow, and it drew out the tears as he expected. "I love you, sweetheart. I'll be waiting on the other side, always. But don't rush, okay? Don't follow me just yet. Knowing you, you'll find something worth living for soon enough."

~ 2019, Koganei Estate.

"Otome-saaan! We're here!" 

Padded footsteps against the engawa prompted you to look up from your chabudai, the documents you were reading now set aside, as the door to your office slid open. Three familiar faces stepped in, the sheen of their jet-black uniforms an all-familiar sight to you. "Hello, you three."

"We brought you oranges! They said it's good for the baby!" Yuuji exclaimed as he raised the plastic bag he was holding, only for it to be taken away by one of the estate servants with a low and reverent bow. 

"We'll bring you strawberries next time, Nobara said, and she quickly approached you when you gestured for her to help you up from your seat. "Say, is it all right for you to be sitting like that all the time?"

"Oh, you're starting to sound just like Shoko, Nobara-chan. I'm quite fine," you said with a small laugh as you got on your feet. Megumi bent down on his knee and straightened out the crooked hem of your pale blue yukata. "Thank you, Megumi-kun. Have you all been well?"

"We've been doing just fine, too! If you're craving anything, don't hesitate to tell us, okay?!" The young woman beamed at you. "Oh! We actually have some strange but exciting news to share with you!" 

"Yeah! It's about Okkotsu-senpai and Maki-san! They…"

Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara were the last of Satoru's students before his passing. In a way, they felt like they had a responsibility to look after you in his stead, but they always did it happily and willingly. Each visit they made was always filled with chatter, laughter, and reproach, as well as anticipation…

"Have you thought of a name already, Otome-san?"

"I have, actually," you said with a small smile as you placed a hand on your round stomach. "Oh, it's kicking me. Such a lively child, this one is!"

"Ah! W-We wanna feel it!"

"All right, all right! One by one, then!"

You don't have to worry at all, Satoru, you thought to yourself as these young sorcerers each pressed their cheeks against the silk of your yukata, their eyes widening in surprise at the sudden movements this little miracle made inside you. This child will be raised with so much love and affection that it'll feel like you've always been here. 

"Ah! I felt it kick! Or was it a punch?! This kid's definitely got Gojo-sensei's moves!"

This child will be strong, I'm sure of it, but they'll never be lonely. They'll never walk alone… Not when they're walking side by side with these wonderful children. 

✦ Asleep Among Endives Masterlist ✦

[tenthousandyearsx]

Thanks so much for tagging me @wolfpants, I loved reading yours! I've pretty much only published lots of PWPs so far, and while I loved writing every single fic I've posted, self-recs always feel a bit weird. x_x Anyway, I'll give it a go!

Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

​‎ㅤ

Passably Wrecked (Drarry, E, 4.6k)

“Potter,” Malfoy says, sitting down next to him at breakfast. “I think we should have sex.”

Starting with this one because it's fairly recent and I don't think I've shared it here! Malfoy expresses scepticism about Harry's sexual prowess. Harry is having none of it.

​‎‎ㅤ

Keep your hands on me (Drarry, E, 21k)

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

Still the filthiest thing I've written imo – it's 21k of smut and I didn't self-censor at all, but I ~think~ I consider it porn with character development rather than pwp. I wrote the whole thing in a daze, which is my favourite way to write when the muses allow – and to my absolute astonishment (I was sure it was going to get hate), it tends to get my favourite comments too. ​‎‎ㅤ

Just a trial run (Drarry, E, 9k)

Potter in his living room was a novelty and Draco could not take his eyes off him. He fixed both of them a drink, handed Potter his Firewhisky, then sat on the sofa. “From Saviour to Auror to whore,” he said. Potter choked on his drink. “Tell me, Potter, how does that happen?” In which Harry wants to get into sex work and Draco would prefer to keep him for himself.

I'm very fond of this fic and this Draco. I wrote it while I was working on KYHOM because I wanted to try a somewhat similar premise with the opposite dynamic, with top Draco and a more submissive Harry. It has both a paid sex kink and alcohol kink, which I have no idea where they came from, and while I've been postponing doing some proper edits on the second chapter, I absolutely loved writing it. ​‎‎ㅤ

Trouble with your tie, Potter? (Drarry, E, 6.7k)

The last thing Harry expects when Slughorn partners him up with Zabini is Malfoy shooting them furious looks throughout the whole class and then unceremoniously snogging Harry in the corridor.

My Erised fic from last year! I was actually working on something else entirely, a much longer fic that fizzled and died on me halfway through. I have a self-imposed rule that the energy of a story has to be right and has to be such that the story drives itself – and, specifically for fic, that if I don't enjoy writing it, there's no point in doing it. So when writing a fic becomes a slog, I just go back and delete mercilessly. It still didn't help in this case though x_x, so I started writing "Trouble with your tie" instead, which was an absolute joy to work on and I'm so happy I did. There are some parts I still think I'll probably rewrite at some point, but I really loved writing H and D's dynamic here. Even though I don't agonise over my prose when I write fic, I am super careful about the energy I'm putting out and especially the feeling I'm leaving the reader with at the end, so I'm really happy they hit the mark in this case. ​‎‎ㅤ

Not very gallant (initial Dronarry but endgame Dron, E, 3.3k)

“He likes it when I hurt him,” Harry tells Ron with a smirk. “And then you come in and soothe him.”

I wanted to include a non-drarry fic so here's a very recent one! I think I probably could have done more with it, but I loved writing Ron in this. Please mind the tags!!! Everything is super undernegotiated!!! It's endgame Dron, but Harry is perfectly fine with it. I should also probably mention that Harry is a bit of an asshole in this fic compared to the way I usually write him, but because I usually write Drarry and wanted this to be endgame Dron, I had to find a way for the dynamic to be in character, hot, and sexually charged, but not in a way that made me ship drarry too much. I'm also usually not good with threesomes or poly relationships because I always feel like someone is left out x_x, so I tried to put my own spin on it. This is what worked for me and I loved writing it! Do not expect considerate behaviour for like... most of it though.

Tagging @crazybutgood , @magpiefngrl , @orange-peony , @lumosatnight and anyone who'd like to join!