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mononijikayu · 22 days

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the other woman — ryomen sukuna.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.” But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.” And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of illness, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: this was always going to be long, because it's heartbreaking. and heartbreaking ones have to be something that has to be expressed well. i listened to this in a audio software like its a podcast and i actually liked it. the other woman by nina simone was the constant in the writing. also, this is the aftermath of ashes of love, which is a series i did about heian sukuna. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

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YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE THIS UNLUCKY. The moment you were born, there would be a bleak fate for you to live. You were an accidental child, and multiple times, your own mother had nearly miscarried. Perhaps even as a fetus, you had always known this. How cursed you were. Even if you had done nothing.

When your mother brushed your hair as a child, she would tell you of how you were born. She said that when you breathed the air for the first time, you were melancholic in the silence to the world. Somehow knew that you were built for this miserable world. And every day since that day, you knew. You were meant to live life without true joyous jubilation.

It did not help that the day you were born, there was a lone dark star in the morning sky, one which had been considered a bad omen. And with that, the whispers of fate echoing long before you had even had consciousness to know. Your village nestled in the shadowed valleys of Hida province, a place of whispered dread and ancient pacts. And for the longest of times, the once prosperous Hida province was in turmoil.

And so, in those days, if there was anyone who controlled the ruins of Hida, it was that god-like curse user Ryomen Sukuna. His name alone was a talisman against the unknown horrors that lurked beyond the mountains, a deity whose power and wrath commanded fear and reverence in equal measure. And all either quivered at the sight of him or drew fanatic fervor.

The Ryomen clan, his kin at one point, were at war—embroiled in brutal conflicts with neighboring clans for so long. And this had been going on before you were even born. The blood had soaked the earth for so long that the soil seemed to thirst for it. And the people were exhausted.

The clan struggled to maintain control over Hida for a long time now, their influence fraying like an old tapestry torn at the seams. And with that, a power vacuum had long been in existence. The chaos of the era was a tide that threatened to drown them all, and Ryomen Sukuna's protection became the last fragile hope for those who called this land their home.

Your parents spoke in hushed voices of the offerings, the sacrifices made by the villagers to appease their god, the man who can save them, this man to fear and worship, Ryomen Sukuna. To ensure his protection, they said. For years, the sacrifices continued, the chosen ones becoming mere footnotes in a history written in blood and fear.

It came upon you rather quickly when you were young and it struck you—that the villagers saw you not as one of their own, but as a piece on a board, a pawn destined for slaughter. A sacrifice to their god. You would be among the countless, one more life to be cast into the jaws of the demon god they all feared.

The day of your sacrifice came as the sky was painted with hues of blood and gold, a cruel irony that did not escape you. The air was heavy with incense and prayer, but there was no comfort in their muttered words, no solace in the chants that pleaded for Sukuna's mercy. They adorned you in ceremonial robes, marked with symbols and sigils, your skin painted with the sacred ink that was supposed to cleanse your soul before the offering.

You were led through the village, a procession of death that seemed to stretch on forever. The eyes that watched you pass were filled with a mixture of pity and relief—relief that it was not them, not their child, not their blood that would be spilled today. Mothers held their children close, men bowed their heads, and the elders chanted in a low, continuous hum that sent shivers down your spine.

At the shrine, they bound you to the altar, thick ropes biting into your skin as you stared at the sky, searching for a sign, a miracle that never came. The high priest began his incantation, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. You could feel the cold seep into your bones, the air around you thickening as if the very world held its breath.

And then, you felt it—the shift in the air, the heavy presence that pressed against your chest like a vice. You had never seen him before, but you knew it was Sukuna. The villagers gasped, a collective intake of breath as his form materialized from the shadows, a figure cloaked in malice and power.

His eyes, crimson and unforgiving, swept over you like a cold blade. You felt your heart hammer against your ribcage, fear clawing at your throat. You were nothing to him, just another offering, another desperate plea from a village clinging to survival.

Ryomen Sukuna smiled, a slow, cruel smile that sent a tremor through the crowd. He stepped forward, each movement a ripple in the air, as if reality itself bent to his will. You met his gaze, defiant in your fear, knowing that you were one of many. Countless lives had been given to him, countless souls lost to his hunger.

And now, it was your turn.

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YOU HAD NEVER EXPECTED TO MEET THE MAN IN THE FLESH. But before you stood this man, this god, with dark crimson eyes. Taller than any tree, intimidating than any curse. Frightening than hell itself. You could remember when you were younger. The whispers reached you before you even stepped foot in the shrine, everyone has. Tales of Ryomen Sukuna had traveled through the villages like the wind, carrying with them rumors that were both terrifying and tragic.

You had always known that the man was delighted with the worship of the human people. But they said he had taken no other concubines, that he showed no interest in any woman who dared come near him.

And if he did, they were more likely to be servants than anything close to a concubine. And some were not so lucky. Some spoke in hushed tones, their voices trembling with fear, that he was a monster of unspeakable debauchery, one who had killed the women for even daring to breathe in his presence.

But the truth, as you had come to understand it, was far more tragic. At least from how you see it. The people of Hida knew—oh, they believed—the story was told long ago. There was someone who had been so loved long ago and most of all, by Sukuna.

Ryomen Hiromi, the one who had captured Sukuna's heart, the one he had loved beyond reason. There was another Sukuna a long time ago, many were aware. But there was nothing proven.

If anything, the children of Hiromi reject any notion of such a relationship. But the tale was woven into the very fabric of tales told, whispered among the elders late at night and shared in riddles among the children who barely understood the weight of what they spoke.

Hiromi, they said, had been his sun, his moon, his stars. A woman of beauty and strength, whose laughter could calm the wildest storms and whose voice was like the sweetest song. She had been the only one to ever touch his heart, to see the man beneath the demon god. But she was gone now, lost to time and tragedy, leaving Ryomen Sukuna to languish in his grief.

No one dared speak her name aloud, not when Sukuna’s rage could split the earth itself. People have seen it. It was said he mourned her loss every day, that his fury was born from the emptiness she left behind. And that was why he would not tolerate any other woman. No one was going to be like her. None would match her wit, her beauty. Why should the king of curses settle for less when he had the world?

As you lay on the cold altar, the ropes cutting into your skin, your thoughts were consumed by the stories. What kind of man—no, what kind of creature—was Sukuna? You wonder about this paradox of a man, this creature like god.

Did he truly mourn, or was that just another tale spun by terrified villagers to make him seem more human? What was he, actually? You had a million questions, and you know they will never truly be answered.

A gust of wind stirred the trees around you, the leaves rustling like whispered secrets. You heard the shuffle of feet, felt the eyes of the villagers upon you, their fear palpable. Then, you heard his voice. You could feel it all, that powerful cursed energy, coming from one direction. For a moment, you had no words. Only uncertainty.

"Why do they send another?" Sukuna's voice was like a low growl, rumbling through the air with the force of a storm. "Do you think I am so easily appeased, you fools?"

You dared to lift your head, the ropes pulling at your skin as you met his crimson gaze. He was tall, imposing, and every bit as terrifying as the stories had painted him. But there was something else there—something in his eyes that spoke of deep, simmering pain.

"Do you truly want to know why they sent me?" you found yourself saying, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your throat.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you down then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Speak, then, girl." he said. "Tell me why I should not turn you to dust where you lie."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "They send me because they fear you, because they believe you will protect them if they give you what you want. But… no one knows what you truly want, do they? No one speaks of her. Of Hiromi."

His expression shifted, a shadow passing over his face, and you knew you had struck a nerve. The air grew colder, a chill that seemed to seep into your very bones.

"Hiromi is dead." he said, his voice quiet but filled with an edge that could cut through steel. "And no one speaks her name. It is what I command.”

"But you still mourn her…." you continued, unable to stop yourself. "Do you not, my lord?”

His dark gaze bore into you, the weight of it almost unbearable. For a long moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched on like an eternity. Then, slowly, he laughed—a sound that was bitter and hollow.

"You dare ask?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "What do you know of it all, little one? What do you know about such a life lived?"

You felt a tremor run through you, but you did not look away. "I know enough, my lord." you replied softly. "I know enough to see that your anger is not born of hatred, but of grief."

Sukuna's cruel smile quickly faded, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, quickly swallowed by the darkness. He hated how you said it, you know it too well. But there was no other choice. You were here for a purpose and you must fulfill it. You must.

"You are bold, little one." he murmured. "Bold….for someone so close to death."

"Perhaps, my lord." you whispered back to him. "But if I am to die, I would rather die knowing who you truly are, rather than the monster they say you are."

He stared at you for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power that thrummed through him like a thunder strike.

"Then you are a fool, little one." he said quietly. "For believing that I am anything more than a monster."

But there was something in his voice, something that made you wonder if perhaps… he wished you were right.

For the meantime, you were lucky to have your life, despite speaking so boldly, despite saying her name aloud—the name that everyone else dared not utter. Sukuna’s silence stretched on, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours, unreadable, cold yet burning with something darker beneath the surface. He could have ended you with a flick of his wrist, reduced you to ashes for your insolence. And yet, he did not.

He leaned closer, the edges of his form blurring into the shadows that seemed to ripple around him like stabbing waves in the ocean. His breath was hot against your skin, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat a drum that signaled your fragile hold on life.

“Perhaps you are simply foolish. Many have died for far less than what you dared to speak.” Sukuna finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Huh, you speak brashly.”

The villagers around you seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his judgment. They looked at you with a mixture of horror and awe, unable to believe you were still alive after uttering the forbidden name. You, a mere sacrifice, a lamb thrown to the wolf, had survived what so many others had not.

“Why do you think I will let you live?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense silence, his tone curious, but with a dangerous edge. “Do you think I find you interesting? Amusing? Or perhaps I see something of her in you, something worth sparing?”

You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation settling in. You had survived speaking out of turn, but you were still bound to this altar, still at the mercy of a being who could destroy you on a whim. Yet, something in his words gave you pause, a flicker of something unspoken that lingered just beneath his surface.

“I do not presume to know your reasons, my lord.” you replied carefully, choosing each word like a step on thin ice. “But if you see something of her in me… then perhaps I am not so different from you after all.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Not so different?” He laughed, a sound that was both mirthful and bitter, filled with a deep, aching emptiness. “You compare yourself to me? To Ryomen Sukuna? You are a child, a mere mortal who knows nothing of gods or demons, of love that scorches the soul and burns the world to ash.”

“And yet…..” you dared to continue, feeling the tightness in your chest. “If my lord felt nothing, you wouldn’t care enough to be angry… or to remember.”

He stiffened, and for a moment, his expression faltered. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, his aura flickering like a candle flame caught in a strong wind. You sensed that you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but you could not stop now. There was something here, something raw and real beneath the monstrous exterior.

“Enough.” Sukuna hissed, his voice a sharp command. The air grew colder, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “You dare much, human. Too much.”

You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, the moment when his patience would finally snap. But instead, Sukuna’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

“Perhaps I will spare you.” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. “If only to see how long that fire burns before it is extinguished. Or perhaps to see if you will end up like the rest—broken, hollow, pleading for mercy where there is none.”

He turned away from you then, his back a wall of power and darkness, his form towering against the dim light of the shrine. The villagers started, stunned, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You will reside in my temple.” Sukuna commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will remain there, under my watch. Let them see what comes of those who speak of things best left forgotten.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mixture of fear and shock. They did not understand why he had spared you, why you, of all people, were allowed to live. Perhaps they thought you were cursed, or perhaps they thought Sukuna had some darker plan in mind. But you knew better. You knew that, in some small way, you had touched on a wound that had never healed, a scar buried deep beneath his monstrous exterior.

And as Sukuna vanished into the shadows, you realized that your fate was no longer in the hands of the villagers, or even in the hands of the gods they prayed to. No, your fate was now bound to his—a god who mourned like a man, a monster who remembered what it was to love.

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IN A WAY, IT IS NOT SO BAD, BEING HIS CONCUBINE. You spent your days in isolation, your life confined within the walls of Sukuna's palace. You were nothing more than a servant, though they called you a concubine. The title meant little, for you were given no special privileges, no adornments, no tokens of affection.

But it was a life. Your life. And it lived in some comfort, more than what is experienced by the rest of Hida province. You had multiple meals a day, you had rooms to yourself and even servants that address every bit of your needs.

Still, your world was small, your days filled with the quiet tending of the gardens, watching the shifting sky as the hours bled into one another. The flowers you nurtured became your only friends, their petals a fragile comfort against the cold indifference that surrounded you.

Perhaps the peace came from the fact that you did not see Sukuna often, and when you did, his gaze never lingered on you for long. He had no interest, no affection, no fondness to spare. You were simply there, like a shadow in the corner of his realm.

A figure lost amidst the vast emptiness of his domain. And perhaps that was for the best. It was better than being forced into Sukuna’s bed. You think that all women in the harem think that it was better that way.

But slowly, ever so slowly, something changed. His dark scarlet eyes began to linger, just a fraction longer than before. You felt the weight of his gaze like a chill running down your spine.

The other servants noticed it too, their whispers growing louder, bolder. You finally caught his attention. But it wasn’t because he had come to care for you, to see you as anything more than the nothing you were.

No, the truth was much crueler than that.

You were a spitting image of Ryomen Hiromi, the woman who haunted his every step, the ghost who lived in the shadows of his mind. At least that’s what the people say. But you did not want to believe them. Yet, looking at the murals at the glass gardens, the resemblance was uncanny.

It was obvious somehow. It was similar, everything. Your eyes, your hair, the curve of your smile. Every feature, every gesture seemed to remind him of her. And though you knew you could never be her, you had become a cruel echo, a reflection of something he had long lost.

And soon enough, the people talked. Of course, they did. They always talked. You tried to shut them out, but the more they whispered, the more people listened. And the more they listened, the more people spoke.

“She reminds him of Hiromi, I am certain!” they whispered. “She is nothing but a shadow, a poor replacement for the one he truly loved. She lives in her image, as if she could ever hope to fill her place.”

You became the other woman, even when you didn’t want to be. No, not even that. You were a pale imitation, a mockery of a woman who had captured the heart of the king of curses. Every glance Ryomen Sukuna spared you was not a look of admiration or desire—it was the gaze of a man staring into the past, into a memory that was forever out of reach.

And so, you lived your life as another woman. No, the other woman. To a dead woman. To a love that had died long ago, but never truly left.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the silence was so thick it pressed against your skin like a heavy shroud, you would wonder about her. About Ryomen Hiromi. Who was she, really? What had she meant to him, this fearsome god, this creature of darkness who now watched you as if searching for something he had lost in her eyes, now reflected in yours.

He never spoke of her. He does not want to. He does not dare to. Not to you, not to anyone. Some servants have been here longer than you and they have seen people killed over even a mumble of a prayer for the lady. And so you don’t ask.

Not even when there were times he would come closer, when his dark eyes lingered on your face, searching, always searching. Yet he will never truly find it. He knew this, as much as you did. But it was as if he was trying to see her again, trying to find her in your skin, in your voice, in the way you moved through the gardens like she once had, perhaps. It was hope, a foolish hope. And yet you cannot escape this foolish hope.

The weight of her memory suffocated you. You were not allowed to be yourself, to have your own name, your own identity. You were always, always compared to her, measured against a ghost that you could never be, never touch. And Sukuna, with his cold gaze and his empty eyes, reminded you of it every day.

"You’re not her, little one." he said once, his voice low, more to himself than to you, as if testing a truth he could not fully accept. “You’ll never be her.”

His words cut deeper than any blade, leaving you with the bitter taste of something unnameable, something that tasted like defeat, or perhaps longing, or perhaps both. You had never wished to be her, to be anyone but yourself. But here, in his domain, under his shadow, you were not allowed that freedom.

You were trapped, forever bound to a life that was not your own, in the shadow of a dead woman who would never release you, and a man who could never let her go.

Days bled into nights, a blur of routine and solitude, and you began to feel like a ghost yourself, haunting the corners of Sukuna's palace, where life seemed to move around you but never through you. The servants kept their distance, wary of your resemblance, as if fearing you might be some ill omen, cursed to echo the tragedy of the past.

And Sukuna… he watched you, always watching, his eyes a deep crimson that saw too much and yet revealed nothing. He was like a storm contained within the fragile walls of the palace, his presence a force of nature that you could neither escape nor fully comprehend. His mood was mercurial; one day, he would barely acknowledge you, and the next, his gaze would linger on you, heavy with something you couldn’t name.

“Do you enjoy the garden?” he asked one afternoon, his tone deceptively casual, as if he were simply inquiring about the weather.

You glanced up, surprised that he had addressed you at all. He rarely spoke directly to you, even when his eyes seemed to follow your every movement. “I do,” you replied, careful, measured. “It is quiet there. Peaceful.”

“Quiet…peaceful.” he repeated, almost as if tasting the word. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes, she liked the quiet too. Always wandering among the flowers. Trees too. She’d like that then.”

You stiffened at the mention of her, the ghost you lived with every day, who lingered in every corner of this place. “I am not her, my lord.” you said, a tremor in your voice. You had repeated these words to yourself countless times, but they sounded fragile, almost insignificant when spoken aloud.

Sukuna's expression did not change. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, like a blade pressed against your skin. “No, little one.” he agreed softly, almost mockingly, “You are not her. But you will do… for now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to let him see the fear that coiled within you, like a snake waiting to strike. “Why do you keep me here?” you dared to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you watch me as if you expect me to become someone else?”

He laughed then, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You misunderstand, little one. I do not expect you to become her. I know you never can. But you… remind me of her. And that is enough… for now.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes darkened with something unreadable, made your blood run cold. You were nothing more than a stand-in, a living, breathing reminder of something he had lost. A cruel joke played by fate, a shadow dancing in the place of the one who truly mattered. To be kept alive, your village kept alive — because you look like a ghost.

“I am not a replacement, my lord.” you insisted, your voice firmer this time, surprising even yourself with the strength behind it. “I hope my lord knows that I will not live my life as a mere echo.”

His smile faded, his expression turning serious. “You think you have a choice?” he asked, leaning in closer, his face so near to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You are here because I allow it. You exist at my whim, not because of who you are, but because of who you resemble. Do not mistake this for anything more than it is.”

The reality of his words hit you like a blow, the finality of it sinking deep into your bones. You were nothing to him, nothing but a passing fancy, a painful reminder of a past he could not reclaim.

“I am not her, my lord.” you repeated, your voice shaking with defiance, with a spark of something that refused to be extinguished. “And I will not be her for you. You must understand.”

For a moment, something flickered in Sukuna's eyes, something almost like surprise, perhaps even respect. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he always wore.

“Brave words, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “But words mean little here, in my domain. You will learn that soon enough.”

He turned away from you then, leaving you standing alone in the empty hall, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides. The silence closed in around you, heavy and oppressive, and you knew that nothing had changed. You were still trapped, still living in the shadow of a dead woman, still bound to the whims of a god who mourned like a man.

And yet, deep inside, something stirred—a flicker of defiance, of hope. You might be a ghost to him, a reflection of a lost love, but you were still alive. You were still you, and as long as you drew breath, you would not allow yourself to be consumed by his shadows. Not without a fight.

Time passed slowly in Sukuna’s palace, and with it, your heart began to change. You did not notice it at first; how could you? Day after day, the monotonous routine of your existence lulled you into a sort of numbness. The gardens became your refuge, the sky your solace.

Yet even as you tried to find comfort in these simple pleasures, you found your thoughts wandering back to him—Ryomen Sukuna, the fearsome god, the monster, the man who mourned like a human.

At first, you hated him, hated him for what he represented, for what he had made you into: a replacement, a mere shadow of someone who had meant everything to him. But as you watched him, as the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, you began to see more.

You began to notice the things others did not—the subtle tension in his jaw when he was angry, the way his eyes softened just a fraction when he spoke of her, the quiet moments when he thought no one was looking, and the mask slipped, just a little.

You were in the garden one afternoon, trimming the roses, when you heard footsteps approaching. Sukuna rarely came to the garden, but today he seemed restless, pacing along the paths with a dark expression on his face. He stopped by the old cherry blossom tree, his eyes distant, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Without thinking, you moved closer. "Is something troubling you, my lord?" you asked quietly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. You had learned not to provoke him, to keep your words soft and your gaze steady.

Sukuna looked at you sharply, as if surprised you had dared to speak. "Why do you care?" he snapped, his tone harsh, but you had seen the flicker of something else—a fleeting vulnerability, perhaps? “Such matters are none for you to care about, little one.”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I see you every day, my lord.” you replied softly. “I see how you… struggle over something. And I cannot help but… care.”

He scoffed, but it was a hollow sound. “Care?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You think you understand me, mortal? You think you can comprehend the depths of what I am, of what I have lost?”

You bowed your head, feeling the sting of his words but refusing to back down. “I don’t pretend to understand, my lord.” you murmured. “But I see the pain in your eyes, the way you linger in places she once loved, the way you… look at me.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned away, his shoulders tense, his hands unclenching. “You are a fool, little one.” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “A fool to think you can feel anything for me.”

And maybe you were a fool. A fool to care for a man who did not care for you, who saw you only as a shadow of someone else. But you could not help it. You could not stop the way your heart ached when you saw him, the way your breath caught when he looked at you with those sad, tired eyes.

Day by day, you found yourself drawn to him, not by his power or his beauty, but by the quiet moments when he thought no one was watching. The moments when his face softened, and you saw the man beneath the monster, the man who had loved so deeply and lost so terribly.

You saw the cracks in his armor, the places where he had been wounded, and you wanted, desperately, to reach out and touch them, to soothe the pain you knew he carried.

You found yourself thinking of him when you were alone, wondering what had made him this way, what had broken him so completely. You imagined him before all of this, before the darkness, before the loss, and you felt a strange, deep sorrow for the man he might have been.

One evening, as you were leaving the garden, you saw him standing by the cherry blossom tree again, his face turned upward, staring at the pale blooms against the darkening sky. He looked so lonely, so unbearably alone, that you felt your heart tighten in your chest.

Without thinking, you approached him, moving slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. “My lord, look.” you said softly, and he did not turn away. “The blossoms… they’re beautiful this year.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hiromi loved them.” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you could not quite name. “Fond of them.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I imagine she did, my lord.” you replied. “They’re… peaceful.”

He was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the flowers. Then he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She was… my peace.” he admitted, his tone so raw, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten painfully. “And now… there is only emptiness.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to touch his hand, to tell him that he was not as alone as he thought, but you knew he would not accept it. So you stood there, beside him, sharing the silence, hoping that maybe, in some small way, your presence could ease the ache in his heart.

And slowly, painfully, you realized that you were falling into the saddest position in the world. You were beginning to care for him, truly care for him, despite knowing that he did not, and could not, care for you. You were beginning to understand him, to see the depths of his sorrow, to feel the weight of his loss as if it were your own.

You were living as a shadow, and yet… you found yourself wishing, hoping, that someday he might see you as something more. Even if you were just a reflection of a memory, even if you could never be her, you wished, desperately, that you could become someone to him.

But as you looked at him, at the emptiness in his eyes, you knew that day might never come. And still, you could not help but care.

Days continued to slip by in a blur of silent moments and stolen glances, and though you tried to keep your heart guarded, you felt it slipping further and further away from you, like water through your fingers. You had resigned yourself to your fate—a concubine in name, a ghost in truth. You had accepted that Sukuna would never see you as anything more than a mere echo of what he had lost.

But as time passed, you noticed a subtle change in him. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, or how his tone softened when he spoke to you. It was in the quiet moments when you would catch him watching you, his expression inscrutable, as if he were trying to decipher some mystery he could not quite solve.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, you found yourself in the garden again. Sukuna was there, seated on a low stone bench beneath the cherry blossom tree, his face turned upward as if searching for something in the dying light.

You approached cautiously, unsure if he wanted your presence or not. He did not turn to look at you, but he did not send you away, either. You took it as a small mercy, a silent invitation to sit beside him.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, delicate and unbroken. Finally, Sukuna spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “You are always here, little one.” he murmured. “Always watching. Why?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I see you, my lord.” you replied quietly. “I see the way you carry your pain, the way you hide it behind your eyes. I… I understand it, in a way.”

He turned to you then, his gaze piercing, searching your face as if trying to find the truth hidden within your words. “And what do you think you understand?” he asked, a note of challenge in his tone.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his stare. “I think you loved her more than life itself, my lord.” you said softly. “And I think losing her broke something inside of you that will never heal.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the stillness like a knife. “You presume to know my heart, mortal.” he said, but there was no true malice in his voice, only a deep, hollow emptiness. “You think because you look like her, you can speak of love and loss?”

“I do not pretend to be her, my lord.” you answered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “But I know what it is to lose, to live with emptiness. I know what it means to be alone, even in a crowded room.”

His eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could almost see the man beneath the monster, the one who had loved and lost, who had once been capable of kindness, of tenderness.

“You think you know loneliness?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. “You think you know what it is to love someone so deeply that their absence is like a knife in your soul, cutting you with every breath?”

“I think I’m starting to understand, my lord.” you whispered. “More than I ever wanted to.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched tight, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You are a fool.” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only a weary resignation. “You should hate me. You should despise me for what I am, for what I have made you.”

You shook your head slowly. “I can’t, my lord.” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I see the pain in your eyes, the way you look at me… the way you remember her. I can’t hate you for that. I just… I wish things were different.”

He turned to you sharply, and for a moment, there was something raw and desperate in his gaze, something that spoke of a longing he had buried deep within himself. “Different?” he repeated, almost scoffing. “There is no ‘different’ for us. This is the world we have been given, and we must live in it.”

You felt your heart clench painfully, knowing he was right, knowing that no matter how much you wished for it, you could never truly reach him, could never become more than what you were—a shadow, a reflection of a woman long gone.

But you could not stop yourself from caring, from hoping that somehow, someway, he might see you, truly see you, not as a ghost or a replacement, but as a person in your own right.

You sighed, turning your gaze to the blossoms above. “I know, my lord.” you murmured. “I know that better than anyone. But I still… I still want to understand you. I still care, even if you don’t care for me.”

He was silent, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you feared you had said too much, crossed a line you could never return from. But then, slowly, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You are a strange one, little one.” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “To care for a monster… to care for a man who has nothing left to give.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you did not bother to hide it. “Maybe I’m just a fool, my lord” you whispered. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but care for you, even when I know you can’t care for me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for some answer he could not find. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gesture so tender it took your breath away.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.”

But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.”

And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

══════════════════

TIME FLEW BY AND WITH THAT, YOU AGED TOO. Slowly, like the steady drip of water carving its path through stone, Ryomen Sukuna began to accept your presence as something constant in his life. At first, it was subtle—the way he no longer sent you away when you appeared by his side, the way he allowed you to linger in his chambers or the garden without a word of complaint.

Over time, it grew into something more. He began to call for you, not often, but enough that you noticed. Sometimes, it was just to sit in silence while he read or stared into the fire, and other times, he would speak to you, his voice low and distant, as if he were speaking to himself rather than you.

He did not love you; you knew that much with painful certainty. His heart belonged to another, to a woman whose name he whispered in his dreams, whose memory seemed to haunt his every step. You were not her, and you never would be. You were a shadow of what he had lost, a pale reflection of a love that had burned too bright and consumed itself in the flames.

But he tolerated you, and in this dark, twisted place where fear ruled and love was a forgotten dream, that was enough. You had learned to find solace in the little things—the way his gaze would occasionally soften when he looked at you, the rare moments when his voice held a note of something other than indifference.

You knew you would never escape Hiromi’s shadow. Her ghost lingered in every corner of this place, in every whispered word and hushed breath, in the way his eyes darkened whenever he spoke of her.

You were not foolish enough to think you could ever replace her in his heart, nor did you wish to. You had come to terms with your fate, with the cruel twist of destiny that had brought you here, to this palace where the walls seemed to whisper her name.

For the finite years of your mortal life, you would be what you were to him—an echo, a shadow, a living memory of something lost. You could have fought against it, could have railed against the injustice of it all, but you chose not to. You chose to make peace with what fate had given you, to find what small joys you could in the fleeting moments he allowed you to be near him.

There were times when the weight of your existence threatened to crush you, when you longed to scream, to demand that he see you for who you were, not for the woman you resembled. But those moments were few and far between, and you had learned to push them down, to bury them deep within your heart where they could not hurt you.

Instead, you found contentment in the little things—in the way his presence filled the room, in the rare, unguarded moments when he would speak to you of things he had buried deep within himself. You listened to his stories, the ones he told in quiet tones when he thought no one was listening, and you treasured them like precious gems, tiny fragments of the man he had once been.

You learned to be grateful for what you had, even if it was not what you had dreamed of. You accepted that you would always live in the shadow of Hiromi, that you would always be the "other woman"; the one who was not loved, but merely tolerated. And for as long as you had breath in your lungs and life in your veins, you chose to find peace in that.

You sat beside him by the fire, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the flames, his expression thoughtful. He did not look at you, but you could feel his presence, warm and solid beside you, a reminder that you were not entirely alone in this world.

You turned your gaze to the fire, letting the heat warm your face, and you whispered, almost to yourself, “I do not ask for more than this. I am… content with what I have.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to understand your words. “Content?” he repeated, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “You are content being nothing but a shadow?”

You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “Contentment is a choice, my lord.” you replied. “I chose to be content with what fate has given me. It is not happiness, but it is enough.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are wiser than I thought now, little one.” he murmured. “To find peace in a place like this… it is no easy feat.”

You nodded, knowing he spoke more to himself than to you. You had accepted that you would never be more than a shadow in his life, but even shadows had their place, their purpose. You would be content with that, for as long as your mortal years allowed.

The days passed with a creeping heaviness that settled into your bones, a fatigue that no amount of rest could cure. You began to feel the strain in every step, the way your breath came shorter, the way your limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. At first, you dismissed it as exhaustion, a lingering effect of sleepless nights and endless thoughts that twisted in your mind like shadows.

But then came the coughing fits, each one more violent than the last, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a sharp pain in your chest. You ignored it at first, waving away the concerned glances of the servants who attended you. You kept your back straight and your face serene, refusing to acknowledge the way your body seemed to betray you.

Yet it grew harder to hide. The pain became more frequent, stabbing through your lungs like a knife with every breath, every step. The first time you coughed up blood, it was a shock—a bright, vivid red staining your hand. Your heart raced as you stared at the crimson stain, panic rising like bile in your throat.

You quickly wiped it away, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, you were alone in your chamber, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, willing yourself to calm down. There was no reason to be afraid, you told yourself. It was just a momentary lapse, nothing more.

But it wasn’t. It happened again, and again. You found yourself waking in the night, gasping for air, your throat raw and burning. The servants began to notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you would clutch your side when you thought no one was looking, the way you moved a little slower, a little more carefully.

There was a day that you sat in the garden, trying to find solace in the soft petals of the cherry blossoms, a violent fit seized you. You doubled over, coughing hard, and felt something wet and warm splatter against your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and saw the unmistakable smear of blood.

A sharp gasp came from behind you. One of the younger servants had seen, her eyes wide with fear and concern. She rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she reached out to steady you.

“My lady, oh my!” she whispered, her voice filled with worry. “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace. “It is nothing.” you said, your voice hoarse. “Do not worry yourself over me.”

The servant looked unconvinced, her brow furrowed with concern. “I must tell Lord Sukuna.” she said quickly, glancing toward the entrance of the garden as if she expected him to appear at any moment. “He must know—”

“No, no…..” you cut her off sharply, your voice firmer than you had intended. “There is no point in that.”

She hesitated, confusion clouding her eyes. “But, my lady… you are unwell. He should—”

“He would not care, little girl.” you said softly, looking down at your blood-stained hand. “There is no use in troubling him with this. It would make no difference. Sukuna does not love me, nor does he care for me in that way. Do you think he would be moved by something as trivial as this?”

The servant bit her lip, clearly torn between her duty to you and her fear of Sukuna’s wrath. “But… if he knew, he might—”

“Might what?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a quiet resignation. “Send a healer? Take pity on me? No, he would not. I am nothing more than a reminder to him, a shadow of a past he cannot let go. He tolerates me, yes, but that is all.”

The servant looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, but she nodded slowly, understanding the weight of your words. She knew as well as you did that Sukuna’s heart was a barren, desolate place, filled with ghosts and haunted memories. There was no room for you there.

“Promise me, little girl.” you whispered, reaching out to touch her arm gently. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression tight with worry. “I promise, my lady.” she murmured, though you could hear the doubt in her voice.

You leaned back against the tree, closing your eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. You knew there was no point in hoping for more than what you had. Sukuna had given you a place by his side, but it was not out of affection. He had lost the woman he truly loved, and you were only a semblance of her—a shadow he tolerated, nothing more.

You were dying, that much was clear. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way to free yourself from this liminal existence, to escape the torment of being a living reminder of what he had lost. You could find peace in that, you thought. At least, you could try.

You would not burden him with your illness, with your slow, inevitable decline. You would carry it quietly, with dignity, for whatever time you had left. After all, what was one more life in the grand, cruel scheme of his world? You were just another fleeting moment in the endless march of time—another sacrifice, another offering to a man who had already lost everything he had ever cared for.

══════════════════

YOU DECIDED TO LET FATE RUN ITS COURSE. You let time pass by, letting the illness be hidden in the shadows of low whispers and painful tears in your long suffering days and nights. And sure enough, Ryomen Sukuna had returned from his long and exhausting trip within the next few days.

He had been famished from his trip and sent word that he would be having supper with you that night, which you had obliged without another word. You dressed in your finest, watching the servants prepare the table in your chambers and calmly thanked them one after another as they left.

The evening had settled into its usual quiet rhythm, with the two of you sharing dinner in the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls, and the scent of roasted meat and simmered vegetables filled the air.

It was a routine you had come to accept with a resigned sort of familiarity, a ritual that offered a small measure of normalcy in your otherwise constrained existence.

You sat across from Sukuna, picking at your meal with an absent-mindedness that spoke more to your weariness than any lack of appetite. His presence was imposing, yet tonight, he was unusually subdued, his attention focused on the food in front of him rather than on you. And somehow, you were a bit more grateful for it.

As you took a sip from your cup, you looked up at him, your expression earnest. "My lord, do you not think you should be more understanding of your subjects?" you began, your voice gentle but firm. "I must implore you once more to be more lenient with the people. The fear you instill is one thing, but mercy could win you their loyalty and respect."

Sukuna's eyes, dark and inscrutable, met yours. He did not respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as if weighing your words. This was not the first time you had made this plea, and it was not likely to be the last. You had grown accustomed to his silence, to the way he would listen but rarely act upon your suggestions.

"It is not for me to coddle them, little one." he said finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Fear is a more effective tool than mercy. It ensures obedience."

You sighed softly, knowing well that your words often fell on deaf ears. Still, you persisted, driven by a conviction that even the smallest act of kindness could make a difference. "I understand your perspective, my lord, but sometimes even the harshest rulers find strength in showing compassion. It can—"

Before you could finish your thought, a sudden, sharp pain gripped your chest. You gasped, doubling over slightly, and a violent coughing fit overtook you. You struggled to steady yourself, but the force of it was too strong. Blood splattered onto the table, the vibrant red stark against the white of your kimono and the pale wood of the dining surface.

Your heart raced as you quickly wiped the blood away with your sleeve, hoping to hide the evidence of your distress. You tried to maintain your composure, but your hands were trembling as you looked up at Sukuna, who had gone still, his eyes fixed on the crimson stain.

For a moment, there was a silence so thick it felt like a physical presence. Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze was heavy and unyielding, his red eyes locked onto the blood that had marred the table and your attire. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his silence, a heavy burden that pressed down upon you.

"It's nothing, my lord." you said hurriedly, forcing a weak smile as you tried to brush off the incident. "Just a momentary lapse. Please, continue with your meal."

Sukuna’s expression was unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He did not speak, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps surprise, or concern, or something deeper that he quickly masked.

You could feel the tension between you, an invisible thread connecting your quiet plea to his unspoken thoughts. It was clear that your condition had not gone unnoticed, even if he chose not to acknowledge it openly. You had always been a presence in his life, but tonight, the reality of your fragility seemed to cut through the usual indifference.

He took a deep breath, his gaze finally shifting away from you as he turned his attention back to his meal. The silence that followed was filled with the soft clinking of utensils and the low murmur of conversation from the servants who hovered at the edges of the room, their eyes darting to you with barely concealed concern.

You ate in silence, each bite of food tasting like ash in your mouth. The pain in your chest had subsided, but a deep weariness remained, a lingering reminder of your deteriorating health. You glanced at Sukuna from time to time, but he was absorbed in his meal, his expression unreadable.

The conversation you had tried to initiate was now buried beneath the weight of your illness, and you knew better than to press further. The battle for his leniency would have to wait for another day, another time when you were not so overshadowed by your own suffering.

As the meal drew to a close, you felt the oppressive silence settle around you once more. Sukuna’s gaze was distant, his thoughts seemingly occupied with matters beyond the confines of the dining room. You could only hope that, in some small way, your presence had made a difference, even if it was not the kind you had hoped for.

When the servants cleared away the dishes and the room began to empty, you excused yourself, retreating to your chamber with a heavy heart. You knew that your time here was growing shorter, that the end was approaching with each passing day. But for now, you would carry on, finding what small measure of peace you could in the fleeting moments you had left.

And as you lay down in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you could not help but think of the blood you had tried to hide, of the way Sukuna’s eyes had lingered on it. You could only hope that someday, he might see you not as a mere shadow or a reminder of what he had lost, but as a person who had tried, in her own way, to make a difference in his world.

The next morning, you awoke to a disorienting cacophony of shouts and harsh reprimands. The once-familiar silence of your quarters was shattered by the sounds of chaos from the courtyard. Your heart sank as you stumbled out of bed, a sharp pain reminding you of the night before.

As you made your way through the hallways, the noise grew louder, mingling with the harsh, angry tones of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice. Your mind raced, dreading what you might find. You knew it already. You have seen it in the other households of the other concubines. And you can only know what had caused such a commotion. When you reached the courtyard, the scene before you was both startling and terrifying.

Your servants were gathered in the center of the courtyard, their faces pale with fear and their postures crumpled under the weight of Sukuna’s wrath. He stood at the center of the commotion, his expression thunderous as he raged at them. His anger was palpable, his words a relentless storm of fury directed at those who had failed to inform him of your condition.

Your breath caught in your throat, and without thinking, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence as Sukuna’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"My lord, please." you began, your voice trembling as you bowed deeply, your forehead nearly touching the ground. "This is my fault, not theirs. I beg for your forgiveness and mercy for my servants."

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he took in your contrite posture, his anger momentarily faltering. He regarded you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, his dark, unforgiving, gaze sharp as he assessed your sincerity.

"It was my decision to hide my illness, my lord." you continued, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I did not want to trouble you or cause unnecessary concern. Please, spare them your anger. They were only following my wishes."

Ryomen Sukuna remained silent for a moment, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. The servants, though still shaken, dared to lift their eyes to you, their expressions a blend of relief and apprehension.

Finally, Sukuna's gaze softened, a hint of resignation creeping into his expression. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating as he looked at you with a new intensity. "You would take the blame for them?" he asked, his voice low and edged with incredulity.

You nodded, maintaining your bowed position. "Yes, my lord. It was my choice, my responsibility. I could not bear the thought of them being punished for my actions."

Sukuna’s expression hardened slightly, but the fury in his eyes had dimmed. After a moment of consideration, he gave a curt nod. "Very well. You will accept any punishment I shall put upon you.”

You swallowed the bile down your throat. “Yes, my lord.”

“Then I will call for healers. You will see them immediately." He says, as though it was the final verdict. “You will see them, all of them. Do you understand?”

“Yes…yes, my lord.” You whispered back to him.

He turned away from the servants, his gaze now fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity. "Go." he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "See to your health, you foolish girl. Your servants too can go. They will tend to you, no matter what you ask.”

You straightened slowly, a mixture of relief and trepidation washing over you. You dared to look up at Sukuna, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to address the servants.

"Thank you, my lord." you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude. "You have done nothing wrong. Please, return to your duties."

With a final, respectful bow, you turned and headed back toward your quarters with the help of your servants. As you entered your quarters, you felt like you had lived a thousand lifetimes in that one moment. Your servants were bowing at your feet, asking for your forgiveness. But you had all but shooed them away, telling them it was your duty as their master.

You wanted to be alone right now. At least when you still had the chance. When the healers arrive, you would have a life to yourself any longer. You would be stuck in their mercy, with their potions and their whims.

You must prepare yourself for the arrival of the healers. You groaned lowly as you clutch your chest, a wave of pain hitting one after the other. It will be over soon, that’s what you hoped. That’s what you want. You want to be free from this pain. You wanted nothing more than to be free.

══════════════════

THE PAIN WAS RELENTLESS. The days dragged on in a relentless cycle of pain and futile hope. Despite the best efforts of countless healers, none seemed able to bring you any real relief.

If anything, your condition worsened, each new treatment only seeming to accelerate your quick decline. Ryomen Sukuna’s frustration was palpable; his anger had become a regular presence, casting a long shadow over the already bleak atmosphere of the estate.

You had heard the whispers of the fate that befell each healer who failed to improve your condition. It was a grim reminder of Sukuna’s volatility, a dangerous mix of desperation and rage. The once-bustling quarters were now filled with an air of fearful tension as new healers arrived, only to face Sukuna’s wrath when their efforts proved ineffectual.

On one of the rare days when you felt well enough to leave your bed, you chose to sit by the garden. The fresh air and the sight of the vibrant blooms were a welcome distraction from the constant ache in your body. You had managed to position yourself on a stool under the gentle shade of a cherry tree, finding some small comfort in watching the birds flit about, their cheerful chirping a stark contrast to the turmoil that had become your life.

Sukuna appeared in the garden, his presence as imposing as ever. He walked with a deliberate pace, his gaze scanning the surroundings with an air of detached observation. As he neared, you looked up and greeted him with a smile, though the effort felt heavy, as if each movement was a strain against the burden of your illness.

“My lord.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “The skies are beautiful today, aren’t they?”

Sukuna stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your serene expression. The silence stretched between you, an unspoken tension that lingered like the heat of a summer day. He said nothing in response, his gaze fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “How is it that you can accept death with such… calm?” His voice was low, edged with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, taken aback by his question. A laugh escaped you, soft and brittle, more out of surprise than genuine amusement. “Accept death, my lord?” you repeated. “I haven’t accepted death, in truth. But there is no way to avoid it.”

Sukuna’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable as he listened. You continued, your voice tinged with a philosophical resignation. “Death will come for all of us, eventually. It’s a natural end to this life. We all must face it in our own time. In that way, we are all freed from the burdens of this world.”

He studied you with a mixture of skepticism and something akin to contemplation. “You speak as if it is an inevitability you embrace, little one.”

“Not embrace, my lord.” you corrected gently, sighing. “But acknowledge. It’s a part of life, as much as the beginning is. We can fight it or we can accept it, but it will come regardless.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. He seemed to be weighing your words, his usual fierceness replaced by an unusual quiet. “And you are not afraid, then?”

“Fear?” You tilted your head, considering the question. “I suppose I am afraid of the pain that might come before the end. But fear of death itself? Not so much. It’s merely another step in the journey, my lord. That is what I believe, at least.”

For a moment, there was a stillness between you, punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds. Sukuna’s eyes flickered to the sky, perhaps contemplating the vastness of existence you had spoken of. The anger that had once seemed so consuming in his presence now appeared subdued, replaced by a contemplative silence.

“I see.” he said finally, his tone carrying a trace of grudging respect. “Your words are… unusual.”

You smiled faintly, a tired but genuine expression. “Perhaps. But sometimes, facing the truth can be a way to find peace, my lord.”

Sukuna stood there for a while longer, his presence a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the garden’s tranquility. Finally, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his demeanor less harsh than before. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded as he walked away, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

As you sat there, watching the birds and the shifting clouds, you felt a small measure of contentment. Sukuna’s visit had brought a moment of introspection, a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death. Even in your suffering, you found a semblance of peace, understanding that acceptance was not about surrendering to fate but about finding a way to live with it, even as the end loomed ever closer.

And just like that, the day you had dreaded finally arrived. And truly, you were left feeling an unbearable weakness that signaled the end was near. The once-familiar confines of your quarters now seemed like a distant world, and the pain of your illness was a constant, gnawing presence. Each breath was a struggle, each moment of consciousness a battle against the encroaching darkness.

To your surprise, your lord Sukuna appeared by your side as you lay on your bed, his imposing figure contrasting sharply with the fragility of your own condition. He had not been a part of your daily existence in the past weeks, his visits sporadic and his presence usually marked by anger and frustration. But now, he was here, seated beside you in a rare display of stillness.

You looked at him through the haze of pain and weakness, your voice a mere whisper. “My lord, it seems this is my time to part from you.”

Sukuna’s eyes were steady, his gaze betraying an emotion you could not fully decipher. “I know, little one.” he replied simply, his voice holding a note of finality.

A pained laugh escaped your lips, the sound mingling with a shuddering breath. “I only wish… I could avoid being reborn into such misery again. To be the other woman, to be nothing to you.”

Sukuna’s silence stretched between you, a weighty pause that seemed to deepen the divide between you. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “You were something.”

You shook your head, the effort to move even slightly causing a fresh wave of agony. “You lie easily, as you breathe, my lord.” you said with a faint, sorrowful smile.

The silence that followed was heavy and palpable, filled with the unspoken complexities of your relationship. As you lay there, the end drawing closer with each passing moment, you found a strange clarity in the finality of your situation.

“I love you, my lord.” you said softly, the words carrying a weight that transcended the physical pain. “As sad as it is, I do. But I have no intention of having it returned. I hope that, in the next life, I never meet you again.”

Sukuna’s expression remained impassive, but there was a softness in his gaze that belied his usual stoic demeanor. As you took your final, labored breaths, his sigh was a mix of resignation and something deeper, something that spoke to the complexity of your intertwined fates.

“I hope so too, little one.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a rare touch of vulnerability.

With those words hanging in the air, you felt a sense of release, the weight of your suffering beginning to lift. As your consciousness faded and the pain finally ebbed away, you left behind the world that had been both your prison and your refuge. Ryomen Sukuna looked at your lifeless body, pursing his lips into a flat line.

“Live on in a better life, little one.” He whispered, his fingers brushing against your hair. “May you be loved by someone who loves you. May we never meet again, my other woman."

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inamindfarfaraway · 1 month

Text

I don't know what's funnier: paranormal scientist Marcus Wells completely missing every sign that Cosmo and Wanda are magical beings; or psychologist Angela Wells not missing a single sign that they have extremely complicated personal lives and relationships.

After every conversation with them, Marcus walks away oblivious. “That was nice. What delightfully quirky people. Now, time to investigate the supernatural!”

Meanwhile, Angela goes to stare at her increasingly convoluted corkboard covered in green and pink string that connects notes including:

Marriage used to be rockier, retirement helped a lot

Coworkers in childcare for decades - added stress? Attachment issues with kids on the job?

Cosmo's mother emotionally abusive? Definitely toxic

Wanda's father Mafia boss???

Peri - son, 23, loved and praised but no/low contact for years until recently, all adapting to his young adulthood

Cosmo probably neurodivergent - ADHD? Undiagnosed? Wanda maybe also

Cosmo trans? Cosmo was pregnant? Both trans and Peri their bio kid?

Odd comments/jokes about human bodies, very flexible, but low stamina walking - invisible disabilities? Dysphoria?

Immigrants? History of travel? Both avoid specific details about past/first homes

WHO IS TIMMY? Ward? Job kid? Foster/adoptive son? Peri's big brother? No contact? Dead?! Important but lost, uncomfortable topic!

Both highly sensitive about fish

Hazel and her godparents are so afraid that Marcus will discover fairies, but the real threat is Angela roping her neighbours into an unofficial therapy session.

#angela planning her casual chats like ‘i will pepper in methods that help adhd people’#she acts perfectly calm and polite #but inside her her burning desire to help and thirst for understanding are wrestling her sense of social etiquette #fop a new wish #fop anw #cosmo and wanda #marcus wells #angela wells

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lackadaisycats · 2 months

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I’m getting really curious on the whole seemingly complex situation that is Mitzi’s romantic relationships.

Cause like, we got Zib, we got Atlas, AND we got Wick!

As far as I’m understanding Zib and Mitzi was like a situationship?? Or maybe just an unofficial relationship from teens to early twenties?? Like they have history together!

But then Atlas comes in and Mitzi kinda leaves Zib for him? Like did she just lose feelings for Zib all together and now only sees him as a friend in the current timeline?

WHATS THE LOVE STORY THERE??

Was there a messy breakup type ordeal??

Then theres Wick! Who I’m unsure if Mitzi does or doesn’t have genuine feelings for!

Cause like, her husbands been dead for a year? And now she’s smooching around with Wick? I can’t tell if this is simply a tactic Mitzi’s using to keep Wick wrapped around her finger or not.

Not that she’s doing it out of malicious intent! It’s clear she feels guilty when she had to use Wick. All things will go into deeper shit if she doesn’t have Wick around! So maybe she’s playing his heart to keep him around because she is extremely dependent on him money wise?? Or does she have actual feelings too??

Girlie has three (or more) men smitten by her! But does she feel the same way in return? I’m pretty confident she did at least have real genuine feelings for Zib in the past! But did she actually love Atlas or was it a marriage of convenience? Or Wick! Is it only a tactic to keep him around as long as possible or has she also had some feelings for him that she’s now partially showing cause her husbands been dead for a year!

Her love life looks so complex! I feel like she needs a drink with how many men seem to be into her at the same time!

sorry for the slight rant and multiple questions 😭

It is indeed messy and complicated, but I can't think of many romantic relationships that don't have some chaos woven in. Even taking account of meaningful, non-romantic relationships in my own lifetime with friends or family, "It's complicated" is an apt descriptor. She and Zib had a past, yes. There were definitely feelings involved, but the structure of the relationship was uncommitted and wishy-washy. Then some things happened that caught Zib by surprise. For indicators as to how Mitzi felt about Atlas, well, take into consideration that she still speaks to his portrait. You can maybe find some clues about the nature of their relationship in things that Zib and Mordecai say in Volume 2 of the comic. As for Wick, I hope it's clear there's at least some mutual attraction there. Mitzi's got her priorities, though, and Wick is actively trying to sort out exactly what his feelings are and where he draws a line in the course of the comic. Really, details are meant to unfold gradually in the story to paint a fuller picture of the past. Things you surmise about it and conclusions you draw (even if they don't ultimately line up with canon) are likely to be far more interesting than whatever dry explanations I could provide here, though.

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #q&a

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multific · 5 months

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Maybe In Another Life

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Warnings: Mention of smut, Illness, Mourning, Death

Summary: A short piece about a King who was doomed to die early and his Queen.

You were promised to him before either of you were even born.

You were married by the time you were 13. He was 14 years old.

And you loved him.

You loved how smart he was. How gentle and kind he was.

Your love for him started when you began to grow older, you got used to one another.

You loved him.

Then, he started to get more and more sick. It scared you. The thought of losing him petrified you.

You tried to ignore his illness, you tried to act as if everything was fine. But you couldn't hide it for long.

He was a strong soul, but his body was weak.

You remember the night of your wedding when you had to consummate your marriage. It was a night you would never forget.

It was the first time you laid with him. It was the first time you felt truly loved.

Even if you wanted to, tried to, there was only ever one time when he gave himself to you.

You seduced him, not giving him an option, you laid in his bed, bare and presented yourself to him. It was his 16th day of birth before his illness got worse.

He began to wear the mask, never letting anyone touch him.

You loved him, it was simple yet complicated.

But you knew he loved you.

His actions showed it to you.

The garden he built just for you, was grand and gorgeous.

"Just like you, My Wife." he would say. "This garden will be the proof of my love for you and of your beauty for the upcoming centuries."

How he loved your smile.

But then, you were sitting next to him as he was taking his last breaths. Your tears falling, you couldn't control them.

"I will miss you greatly." you said as he moved his hand and allowed you to take it.

One last touch.

"I love you," he said and you smiled, allowing him to see it right as he died.

You took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his mask.

"I love you too." you said as you broke down sobbing.

You visited his grave daily.

In the beginning, you didn't even leave it for days.

They will crown a new King, and people will move on, but not you.

Barely a year passed and you were lost. You had nothing and no one to live for.

You still visited your husband's grave daily, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back to you, but he never did.

Your mourning caused you to become sick.

In the hopes of joining your husband in the afterlife, you prayed and begged for death until the day it finally took you.

You joined him in death as you wished.

The wife of King Baldwin IV was placed to rest next to him, your rightful place, right by his side.

Maybe in another life, you two would meet again, hopefully, that time it will be right.

----

They say you don't remember your past life, but the feeling stays with you.

It is why a person who you know you have not met, might feel familiar. In a past life, you might have known them.

Then, there are people who claim to remember their past life. Who say they found their true love once again.

You used to laugh at those people.

But not today.

Not when you couldn't look away from him.

He stood right across the other side of the street. Occasionally, cars obstructed your view, but he was there.

With each passing car, you feared he would disappear.

But he didn't.

His eyes were glued to yours.

A familiar feeling flooded you, you knew him but you never met him.

You would remember such a handsome face, he was tall, lean yet built, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing spectacular.

But he looked amazing in your eyes.

Soon, he crossed the road, and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

You didn't move as he walked closer to you.

He was even taller up close.

"My Wife." he said and it felt so right.

You have never seen this man in your life. And yet, you remembered him.

"My King." you said as tears fell from your eyes.

"I remember learning about you in history class. The Mourning Queen of the Leper King." he stepped closer, lifting his hand to your cheek, and you smiled.

"I told you before, I couldn't possibly live without you." he smiled as you leaned closer, grabbing his shirt to pull him down.

And now, you could kiss him freely.

Your past was filled with love and pain. You both will make sure that this life will be a happy one.

You both pulled away from the kiss and spoke in sync.

"I love you."

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #King Baldwin IV x Reader #King Baldwin IV x you #King Baldwin x Reader #King Baldwin x you #King Baldwin #King Baldwin IV #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv #baldwin x reader #baldwin x you #king baldwin imagine #king baldwin imagines #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven x reader #kingdom of heaven fanfiction

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moonydustx · 5 months

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Part 2 from this request (thank u again @cartoonykat )

Mihawk, Lucci and Crocodile x F!Reader.

In short: how they would react to F!Reader saying she was pregnant, how they would deal with the child.

(get ready to read, the stories are a little long)

PART 1 HERE - Luffy, Zoro and Ace x F! Reader

Warnings are placed individually in each history.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Mihawk

warnings: fluff. Mihawk and f!Reader are married and want to have children. Mentions of F! Reader be a cook. Very brief mention of abortion (but it was in the past). Content a little spicy, nothing detailed or explicit. Mihawk speaks Spanish a few times in this one (I just couldn't help it). Princesa: princess. Cariño: kind of "Sweetheart"

You had already arranged your sundress countless times, as well as your hair, as well as the entire dinner table. You couldn't sit still, anxious for your husband's arrival. Today you celebrated three years of marriage and you knew that after a long two months, he would return home. You knew his temperament well enough to know that there were high chances of finding him in a bad mood, he hated spending long periods away from the castle and this had been the longest time of all. Of course, your anxiety had nothing to do with the little box hidden in the kitchen.

"Cariño?" You heard his voice from downstairs and in a matter of minutes you already had him in your field of vision. His expression lit up when he saw you and lifted you into his arms. "How I missed you!"

"Me too darling." his hat fell back as you peppered kisses across his face. "My God, how can you stay away all this time?"

"Problems, cariño, a long list of problems." your feet touched the floor again after the long hug. "And what amazing smell is that?"

"Let's just say I used my free time to prepare something special for both of us."

"You should be resting. Last time we spoke, you weren't well." his smile faded, replaced by an alert tone.

"I promise I'm okay." You tried to make conversation just like the day he called you and said you didn't look well. You were talking through a den den mushi, how could he realize that?

"Just give me a few minutes and I'll meet you in the dining room." he asked and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

The minutes of waiting seemed like endless hours, just like dinner itself. You were willing to listen to him talk about how complicated the days at the Cross Guild were, about the news in the world outside your little dome or even how delicious the dough you had prepared was. Your fingers intertwined with his and despite the physical proximity, your mind wandered on how to get to the subject naturally. You had already tried a few times, you had already lost once without even knowing that you expected it, you wanted - and needed - this time to be special.

"Princesa?" he called you, looking towards the cup in front of you. "You didn't like the wine I chose?"

"It's one of my favorites actually."

"Yet it remains untouched." he observed, noticing your hands restlessly hitting the table. "Is something going on?"

"First, I'll get this." You took the wine cork. "Second, wait here for a while."

Twisting the small piece of cork between your fingers - the one you would make sure to keep, you reached for the small box in the kitchen and before long it was standing in front of Mihawk.

"To what do I owe the honor of being presented like this, out of nowhere?" he began to undo the bow, setting the wine glass aside and using both hands to undo the wrapping.

Inside, there were some pregnancy tests, in your desperation to know if it was correct, you took a much larger quantity than necessary. Next to them, a small hawk plush. You had searched the nearby town while picking up fresh items for dinner. At first your idea was to just talk to him, but the stuffed hawk with yellow eyes stole your attention.

"How could I not notice?" he murmured, as if a thought had been spoken aloud. "That means it worked…"

"If you talk about all sex without a condom, without any protection… Drac!"

He pulled you from the chair onto his lap. The hands on your back served as much support as your arms around his neck. Your laughter echoed throughout the castle while Mihawk almost sloppily distributed kisses to any part of your face that he could find.

"How long have you known?" he asked euphorically, a type of state that was rare to find in hawk-eyes.

"A few weeks ago. No, I would never tell you that on a phone call." you interrupted him before he could complain.

For a few minutes, the two of you remained there. Swears like "I love you" "You just made me the happiest man in the world" they were uttered and kisses spread across your face. His hands, accustomed to the weight and brutality of swords, touched you gently. Not like you were something about to break, but rather like something he valued so much. As if he wanted to record every moment of that moment in his memory through the drawings of his hands on your body. The yellowish eyes practically penetrated your soul as you watched Mihawk.

"May I know what's going on in your beautiful head, my princess?" Mihawk's nose caressed your neck, earning a smile from your lips.

"Now you know. It was a low blow to choose my favorite wine." you mumbled, adjusting yourself in his lap.

"No alcohol for you from now on."

"Not for a while now. God, I'd kill for a full glass right now."

"Maybe I have a little idea of how to satisfy that desire of yours."

"What do you say, hawk eyes." Your attentive eyes followed him as he brought the glass of wine to his mouth and slowly drank the drink, in silent provocation. "Are you capable of being so mean to your pregnant wife? I thought it was to satisfy my desire."

"Don't put it like that." He returned the cup to the immense table, his agile hands slid across the bare skin of your thighs. "I just want you to taste it in a new way."

The taste of wine invaded your lips when Mihawk trapped you in a kiss. His tongue opened space in you, eliciting a moan from you when you felt the much-desired taste invade your palate. In an improvised juggling act, without taking your lips off his, you adjusted yourself in Mihawk's lap. Before now your legs dangled around his body, looking for some kind of friction.

"Babe, I need you." you murmured against his lips and his hands held you even tighter, feeling his intimacy harden against yours. "Please, it's on my craving list too."

"Who knew what a little of the taste would do to you." his hands slid over your skin, he could clearly see your skin crawl. "It also seems like you're more sensitive, this is interesting."

"Why don't you take it off and find out?" you pulled his hands down to the hem of your dress.

"Do you want to take this upstairs?" he asked and instead of using words, you just took off the dress you were wearing, throwing it across the kitchen.

You didn't need to shout the news from the rooftops, that night it was enough for Mihawk that you screamed his name, that he valued the body that would be home to your two long-awaited baby. After eliciting screams, nectar and sweat from you unlike many other times when you spent hours caressing each other and talking, you remained awake for a short time. Then Mihawk could notice the small difference in your belly, how it seemed firmer and pointier, different from the last time he had ventured across your body.

"Sorry about the time out." he first made sure you were asleep and then leaned down to whisper against your skin. "I promise to make it up to you. Both of you."

You could notice the different way Mihawk looked at you and not that he didn't do it often, but it became more and more common to hear him say "You look amazing." "You are so beautiful." Soon after the discovery, you also discovered how your husband could go into hyperfocus and the time was to find a perfect home for you. It still hurt you to leave the castle behind, even if for a brief time, but he knew he had tasks to fulfill with the Cross Guild and because of that, he would need to spend more time away from your island home.

The small arranged mansion was also isolated and was a result of Crocodile's help. Despite having little contact with the main part of the island, it was much less minutes away than the old house. At least you would have space to redecorate the entire room to your liking.

"Woman, you really want to spare me from living a long life." Before your protests, you felt his arms wrap around you and take you off the ladder that you were balancing on to finish painting the room. "If this child turns out to be half as stubborn as you, I will be in big trouble."

"Baby, don't listen to your father's nonsense." you mumbled to your belly bump. "And you, did you manage to assemble the crib?"

"No." he practically whispered and as a way of irritating him, you pretended not to hear. "I'm going back to the city, I'm sure there must be something already done."

"You men, with your little swords, can't handle a new toy." You stood on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. "Let's switch tasks."

"You women and your kitchen knives." he grumbled, watching you leave and then return only to look at him with judgement. "Okay, I've been an asshole now."

The light shade of yellow had just finished filling the walls when a bang took the eagle eyes' attention. Hearing you swear, it only took seconds for him to be on the doorstep, watching you contemplate the collapsed crib.

"What were you saying about swords?" he teased but your furious look made him change his mind - he swore he saw something red shine in your iris. "Tomorrow we'll go to town together and get one ready, what do you think my love?"

"A great idea."

"And for now, how about a hot bath, some music and grape juice." well, at least that was the way he had found to prevent you from drinking wine.

"Can we include a massage in the package?" you took advantage of the fact that he was behind your body to lean on him.

"Whatever my dear wife wants."

The house was already ready, toys, clothes and gifts from the most different friends were piling up and by a pure coincidence of fate, Luna arrived into the world on a full moon night. You would carry it in your soul when Mihawk's eyes - golden when they touched the moonlight - met the small pair of irises identical to his.

"My little Luna, you chose the right day to come." he whispered, pacing the sleeping girl from side to side. "You are so perfect."

"Just like her daddy." you answered.

In other situations you would end up in two camps: Mihawk would play the opposite and say that the most beautiful thing in the relationship is you or on days when he was really in a good mood, he would say how lucky you were to have him. That night, he just smiled at your comment. Not a provocative smile like most of the ones he had given his entire life. It was one of those that made the hawk's eyes become just a detail on his illuminated face.

"Thank you my love." he replied to you. "Thank you for bringing me a little piece of heaven, of all this infinity above us. Mi preciosa Luna."

When little Luna wasn't within your reach, you didn't need to make an effort to find her, she would be in her father's shadow. Whether in the moments he took to read or even in some Cross Guild meetings. The other two men didn't seem to mind the little girl's presence, who was always busy with something.

"I think we can… Hey, what's this?" Buggy screamed as he saw the girl climb over him. "Mihawk!"

"Let the girl have some fun. That's what clowns are for, aren't they?" Crocodile responded in a gentle tone while Mihawk kept his eyes on Luna, who without hesitation pulled one of Buggy's ears and sat on the couch next to him.

"You little brat!" the clown made to take the ear from her hand in an almost brutal way as he felt her digging the almost non-existent fingers into the cartilage of the ear. "That hurts."

"I wouldn't want to have to remove your other ear, permanently." Mihawk spoke calmly, as if he had just commented on an everyday fact.

"Sorry to interrupt." You walked into the room, attracting looks, especially from a certain little girl who realized that your ear wasn't that interesting anymore.

"Mami!" Luna immediately started throwing her little arms towards you and even though she tried to at least hide it in these situations it was impossible not to see Mihawk's eyes light up.

"She just took down a Yonkou, I'll be saving a spot on the team for her." Crocodile laughed when he saw your dissatisfied face. "Okay, I guess I'll have to settle for just a single hawk's eye."

On the same day, after a few long hours of meeting between them, you thought that at least your husband would want to rest, to remove any idea of work from inside the house - despite his choice to have brought work into the house while the Luna was still small. Of all the places you expected to find yourself, you didn't expect to find Mihawk with little Luna on his lap, in front of them a large Cross Guild poster.

"Who's that?" Mihawk pointed at the figure.

"It's a crocodile." The word was slurred, but Luna said it anyway with a certain confidence. Again, the man asked, pointing to the next image. "The clown."

"And who is this?"

"Dada!" she cheered, making him laugh along and, consequently, you, happy with your little family.

Lucci

warnings: Lucci is a warning in itself. A lot of angst with a somewhat happy ending. F!Reader was also an agent, she had the fruit that transformed her into a kind of cat. Slightly troubled relationship between him and F!Reader. Completely based on the fact that Lucci is not a complete psychopath (I mean, egghead spoilers ahead: him asking for Kaku's life, how can we not love him? Besides the CP9 cover stories).

A few days had passed since the last time you and Lucci had seen each other in person. The voices demanding mission reports seemed distant as you watched him from the other side of the table and you had known him long enough to know that even though he seemed focused he was still able to see him glance casually in your direction and no one noticed.

You wished the brief meeting could have lasted longer, given you time to think more about what words to use, to fantasize that Lucci would be happy with the idea, but chills ran through your body just thinking about it.

"Hey, meow girl." Kaku nudged you with his shoulder, pulling you back to the real world. "I heard you got into trouble."

"You have no idea." You laughed heartily, pushing him back. "Call me meow girl again and I'll wring your huge neck."

"Hey, I'm just being nice."

"I bet you are, big guy." You pinched the tip of his nose, leaving him grumbling.

"Need to talk to you." Lucci's voice interrupted the two of you, stopping Kaku's laughter and complaints. The man just waved and walked away, leaving you and Lucci alone. "Not here."

He took the lead, his firm steps and serious posture didn't let anyone think anything other than that you - who followed him without the same grandeur - had gotten yourself into some kind of problem. The solid wooden door closed behind you as you noticed Rob Lucci walk through the space, filling two glasses of brandy and handing you one of them. The drink danced through your hands, but never reached your lips.

"You were restless today, pupils dilated, sweat on your face." He touched a temple, noticing the moisture. "What kind of problem did you encounter?"

"I'm pregnant." You ripped the band-aid off at once, with no time to let the thoughts flow through your mind.

The man took a few steps back, looking you up and down and then looking around the entire room. The small shot of brandy in his hand was downed in moments and he took the one you were holding from you, the liquid meeting the same fate.

"And what do I have to do with it?" you already knew his cold temper, but you didn't expect to hear such rude words.

"What do you have to do with this?" you snapped, approaching him. "What do you have to do with this? Use your fucking brain Lucci."

"What's wrong? How can you guarantee that this is my doing?" His tone dropped, becoming threatening. "I have nothing to do with this."

"I knew you could be an asshole, but after all this time?" you gave him a push Lucci didn't react, just letting his body move away.

"We had one night and that was it. This could be anyone's business."

The lie that came out of his lips hurt more than any blow you've ever taken in all these years fighting alongside him.

You threatened to push him, but this time he reacted by guiding your body to the wall and enclosing you in his arms. Your body contracted as you saw him punch the wall next to you and some pieces of concrete fall.

"Get out of here." his tone became a whisper and if it weren't for the argument you were already having, it was impossible to tell he was mad. "You get out of here and ask to leave Cipher Pol today. Ask or I'll throw you out."

How could you have been stupid to think that would lead anywhere? You thought Lucci could have changed something, all the times the two of you could have had some connection felt in vain.

Swallowing your tears and not giving any justification to anyone, a few days later you managed to free yourself from the organization. You knew they would keep an eye on you, but at least now you wouldn't be the target of Lucci's hatred.

A few months later you had already found a new home on your home island, a new spark of hope that everything would work out, even without him. That week you would be six months pregnant and you were already used to the affection and closeness of your neighbors and colleagues. What you weren't used to was strange noises in your house in the middle of the night.

Reluctantly - and against any recommendation from your doctor, you assumed the form that your devil fruit allowed. A completely black cat. You still remembered Kalifa's laugh when you two and Kaku acquired your fruits and she claimed it was curious that you also turned into a feline.

The image of the man you no longer imagined seeing in front of you was there, standing in your kitchen. You wanted to return to your human form and ask what it was about, you wanted to at least feel him again, but the hatred inside you spoke louder. Shooing away the pigeon that accompanied him, you jumped at Lucci, climbing up his suit with your fingernails.

"Stop this." Lucci tried to hold you back, but you kept throwing small kicks at him. Damn the time you trimmed your claws, the damage wouldn't be so great "Stop!"

Fatigue soon hit you and you returned to your human form, even so you continued attacking him, this time with weak slaps.

"You practically called me a bitch." you snapped, having your hands trapped by his. "You humiliated me and now you have the nerve to show up here."

"You need to calm down." you lunged at him, even though your hands were practically tied by his hands. "You're going to hurt yourself, sweetheart, please."

The calm tone of his words hit you before your brain even processed his arms trapping you in a tight hug. It took a few seconds before you actually gave up trying to free yourself.

"Calm down, please." he asked once again, pressing you against his body.

"You left me." hurt replaced the hatred in your voice, this time you were able to let go of him, now calmer.

Noticing that your clothes were gone with your transformation, you turned your back and went to your room, reaching for panties and a robe. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you closed your eyes, trying to regain the lost air and dealing with the weakness that took over your body.

"There are big differences between the anatomy of a cat and a human, even more so when they carry their kittens." Lucci leaned on the doorstep and realized that you still hadn't turned your attention to him. He soon bent down in front of you, taking one of your hands. "How can I help you?"

"You sent me away." the hurt was almost palpable in your voice. "My life was good here, I got a job even though I was pregnant, I started making friends. Why are you here after so long?"

"I couldn't stop thinking about you two." Lucci gave up and sat next to you. "That day I had to lie." he confessed and your attention quickly turned to Lucci. "I saw Yuro following us, him slightly pushing the door to hear us. He was interested in my position just like he was always interested in you. What do you think he would do when he connected the information?" The question remained in the air for some time, long enough for you to feel your heart soften a little. "That's why I asked you to leave, I didn't know how well the little act had worked."

"And how did you find me here?"

"I never lost sight of you." the answer was almost obvious to you, yet it was good to hear. "Besides, even if I wanted to, that annoying giraffe wouldn't leave me alone after I told him about the child." a light laugh dared to cross your lips. "I'm sorry for this."

"I know you meant well, Lucci, but it still hurts anyway." you made to touch his arm, but you flinched. "It doesn't mean that I don't miss you, that I don't want to see you."

"I figured that. As long as you accept me here, accept me in this child's life, I want to stay." he, contrary to what you had done, allowed his hand to touch your skin, turning your face towards him. "And what you want?"

"Can we just cuddle for a bit, please?"

Lucci opted to just pull you into his arms and drag you to the bed, laying down comfortably and allowing you to snuggle into him. Feeling a little wary of how you would react, his hand lightly touched the spot on the back of your neck that you loved being stroked. Surely your cat form would be purring. For a long time, it was the kind of physical contact you had.

The residents of the small village were initially surprised by the man's presence. He didn't stay for long and when he stayed on the island, he only left the house a few times and had a serious expression on his face, not allowing anyone to feel free to talk. And when it was extremely necessary, he preferred to use Hattori for that role.

The little child arrived into the world on a rainy night. Leo was an almost identical copy of his father, except for his eyes that were the same as yours. Lucci only returned to the island two days later and few things could surprise him more than finding you sitting on the bed with several blankets around your body, while you breastfed the little baby.

"Hey." you limited yourself to saying, not wanting to speak more or louder so as not to take away the child's peace.

"Are you cold?"

"I just need to keep the nest… the bed warm, make our little Leo comfortable." You looked at the little one, who was still focused on eating. "Want to see him?" You nodded to the space next to you on the bed.

Lucci got closer and could notice every feature of the baby it was like looking at a small version of him. Until the small eyes found the man's direction and he understood that everything bad that could exist in him, in Lucci, would be compensated by everything good he had in you. A strange feeling took over him, something like possession, like pride, something that if he needed to put into words he wouldn't be able to.

His hands first lowered the cover from your back and then lowered the strap of your shirt. Before you could complain, Lucci started distributing kisses and rubbing his face against your skin, in a strange affection that you gladly accepted. In anyone's eyes, it would be like seeing two cats taking care of their pup.

Lucci was right in his little mental gamble. Leo was a physical copy of him, but he had your personality. Cunning, agile, but kind, a soft heart that accepted anything. Well, almost anything.

"Daddy!" the boy shouted as soon as he saw Lucci enter the small yard after almost two months away. The man just bent down and allowed him to jump into his arms. When Leo was just a few centimeters away, Lucci watched the boy scream in horror and walk away. "Hattori!"

The pigeon landed on Lucci's shoulder and that was enough to explain the story. Ever since baby Leo woke up with the pigeon watching him, the now three-year-old boy was terrified of any bird and poor Hattori was included - and was the main reason.

"Son, I already told you. Hattori is good." you caught up to them, sitting on the floor so you were at Leo's level.

"No, it is not." he grumbled, hiding in the back of your neck. "Get him out of here."

"You need to get used to it." Lucci would once again try and knew he might fail. "Look at me."

"I don't want."

"Leo…" the warning tone caught the boy's attention, who just gave him space to see, not letting go of you. "Look, Hattori is a good friend."

Lucci let the pigeon land on his fingertips. Fulfilling the small unspoken agreement between the two, Hattori remained quiet, accepting Lucci to stroke his head.

"See? Your mom likes him too." Lucci passed the pigeon to your finger and more docilely you caught it.

"Come here." Lucci picked up the boy and whispered something in his ear, probably some promise to the boy. Leo, with his small trembling hand, stretched out his finger and let Hattori land. "See? He can be a great friend."

"He can?"

"Coo, yes sir Leo." As soon as the dove spoke, Leo screamed in fear again, letting the bird fly and throwing himself at you.

"Maybe that was too soon." Lucci commented, helping you stand with the boy on your lap.

That time, Lucci spent about a month with you and you were already suffering from the night he was leaving. Partly because of your longing, even if you hadn't gotten back into the relationship, you couldn't deny how you felt about him. In addition to suffering for little Leo. He admired his father, even though he didn't know what he actually did and even though he maintained a more serious behavior, you knew that Lucci adored the boy.

"Dad…" you watched Lucci put Leo to sleep, with the boy practically with his eyes closed. "You will return?"

"I promise you I will."

"What if I cry just this little bit." he pointed at the small space with his fingers. "Will you still love me?"

The question seemed to take him by surprise. You noticed that Lucci didn't respond immediately and you wondered how many memories were going through his head, of all the death, chaos and hatred that he had carried since childhood. You knew that it was difficult for Lucci to express - and even nurture feelings that were reserved for few people, the bond with you and Leo was unique.

"Absolutely," a rare light chuckle escaped him. "You're my best friend, remember?" Lucci finished covering the boy. "Now sleep."

You blew your little boy a kiss from a distance and closed the door to his room. Like something magnetic you followed Lucci to the small room of the house you two sort of shared.

"Need to talk to you."

"I'm listening." you crossed your arms, bracing yourself for something bad, something like "That was the last time I showed up."

"I'm leaving Cipher Pol." he took a small letter from his pocket. That seal was familiar and the last time you saw it was when you gave up.

"Explain this to me properly"

"Even on a mission in Water 7, being a shipwright wasn't that bad." as he spoke, you felt even more lost. "I've always had my goals. Little Leo wasn't one of them, but I can't ignore him."

"You know you don't have to do that. Our little arrangement has been working." you tried to argue, but Lucci was irreducible, as always.

"I don't really need it. I want it." he spoke firmly. "I'm just going to carry out this mission more."

"Something important?"

"I need to go to Egghead, deal with Vegapunk." he limited himself to speaking, not wanting to go into too many details. Despite asking, your mind was still stuck on the idea of having Lucci always there.

"Promise to come back." the words came out like an order. "Promise now Lucci, please."

Lucci just hung his face, trying to understand where that plea had come from. You always warned him to make promises to Leo, after all, life as an agent and director of CP0 wasn't the safest. Those words didn't usually come out of your mouth.

Ignoring the mix of sensations that accumulated in your chest, you practically threw yourself towards Lucci, taking his lips for yourself. His lack of reaction only lasted a few seconds and you only had to press your body against his for his hands to find your legs and lock them around his waist.

"I promise." he said amidst sighs and footsteps towards your room. "As long as you promise to come back to me, to be mine again."

"I promise."

Crocodile

warnings: angst, but with a happy ending. Crocodile and F!Reader are married, there are mentions of blood but nothing much. Mentions of Cross Guild because I absolutely love the existence of this trio.

Long years, long disputes and problems ago, Crocodile found you lost in Alabasta. Fleeing from a crew that chose to only use you, you found yourself without any direction and when demonstrating your skills to escape some thieves, he saw something interesting in you.

This interest lasted through the years, even into the fall of his reign in Alabasta, even into the time he was trapped in Impel Down, he knew that once he found you again, he wouldn't let something so good slip through his hands like sand in the wind.

That's how the small ring with green details found your hand, which you passed from Miss Honeymoon to his wife. Very little time had passed before you had to face the countless positive tests that piled up in front of you.

You tried to go back to bed in silence, the goal was not to wake Crocodile and over time, find the courage to bring the news to him. However, you failed miserably. As soon as the bathroom door opened, you found Crocodile waiting for you.

"You've been out of bed for a while. Is everything okay?" he asked, leaning against the wall next to the door.

"Y-Yes." Your voice betrayed you, giving away that at least something had happened in there and you knew Crocodile enough to know that he would turn everything over and discover your little secret. "Can we talk?"

"It's a little early for that, isn't it, my little one?" The serious expression on your face told him that the matter couldn't wait. Without asking, he took your hand and guided you back to the bed, placing you in a sitting position. "What happened?"

"I h-guess. I mean." you took a deep breath, the huge room seemed to compress next to you. "I'm pregnant."

Silence prevailed for a few seconds - it seemed like ages between the two of you. You looked for any reaction, for anything, but Crocodile was far away. It was just a physical form in front of you.

"Rest, there's still a long way to go before dawn." he just said, turning his back and heading towards the bathroom.

It didn't take long for you to see him leave, hair wet, steam everywhere, no more words left his lips and the first rays of sun appeared on the horizon when he disappeared from your field of vision. Almost two weeks passed like this, only essential words were exchanged between the two of you, Crocodile spent most of his hours away from home or locked in his office. According to Daz, the boss had problems to solve.

That was it, this would end the relationship that you two had worked so hard to achieve. Without saying anything, you packed your bags, even so you couldn't leave without at least looking at his face. Opening the office door without any kind of ceremony, the first thing that caught your attention was the blood that was staining him, only then did you notice the cut that he was finishing stitching.

"Crocodile!" You got closer, trying to touch the wound, but he pushed your hand away. "Are you okay?"

"It was just a superficial cut." he simply responded, finishing the last stitch and using gauze to cover the wound.

Despite your concern, you would not let your recent decision shake you. Crocodile watched with surprised eyes as you took off the ring you were wearing and with shaking hands left it on the table.

"What is this about?"

"Given the distance, the way you've been treating me, I don't think you were happy with the existence of a baby." You started, trying to make your voice steady. "But I am and it's okay that you don't want to have a child, but I do. I just don't want to have to deal with this indifference, this distance. You don't talk to me, you don't sleep in our bed…"

"Calm down darling, please." he asked, his unshaken tone quite contrary to the worried expression on his features.

He took your hand and gently made you circle the table, standing next to him. Crocodile then took three brown folders from a drawer, each of which had a name and a photo of a guy.

"Do you remember them?" you still remembered the faces, before settling on the new island, the two of you evaluated how the entire system worked.

"The three main leaders here on this island. This one is responsible for the bandits." You pointed to the first photo and then to the second. "This one was a pirate too, as I remember."

"And this one works in the slave trade." Crocodile took a pen and crossed out his photo, just as the first man's photo was also crossed out.

"And what does this have to do with what I told you just now?" you tried to move away from the table, but the hand on your waist stopped you.

"As we once talked about, I planned to calmly find a place for my business, maybe some partnerships…" he put the folders aside, turning his attention completely to you. "Now with this. With our baby on the way. I can't allow there to be threats of this level around."

"What do you mean by that, my dear?" the endearing word involuntarily escaped your lips, a clear sign that you couldn't help but have love for Crocodile, even with the hurt.

"I needed to speed up my business, exclude some of these faces." He held your face and pressed his forehead to yours. "I can only be happy with this news when I know you two are safe."

"Crocodile…"

"I'm going to be the happiest man on this island when I can walk around showing off my beautiful, shiny, pregnant wife, carrying my little one. I don't want our children to have to see the terror we've both experienced throughout this life."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore." you let your hands wrap around him and his found a similar path around your body.

"I'm a man of my word and when I said I want you for the rest of my life, I really meant it." His lips traced their way across your face. "Please give me just a few more days and I will allow myself to be happy with this news."

It took another week before you woke up in the middle of the night, feeling something you hadn't felt in time. The icy contrast of his hook revealed that Crocodile had accidentally slept in that position. Head and one hand resting on your belly, in a protective mode. Apparently, the day had finally come for him to allow himself to be happy.

The months that followed were calmer, with the full-time man being your shadow, even on the tireless afternoons of shopping you did, Crocodile was there. At least he considered himself lucky and rewarded, since your raging hormones acted in a somewhat pleasant way for him - which made Daz find the two of you in a vulnerable way in the kitchen.

The best doctors from across the island gathered in the grand mansion when Ella was born. An identical copy for you, much to Crocodile's happiness. You knew that Crocodile would dedicate himself to being a father, even if it didn't work out, however, you couldn't be more wrong. On many nights, the girl was only able to stop crying when she found her father, or afternoons became calmer when, while the two of you talked and made plans, little Ella was distracted by the piles of sand that her father was. capable of producing. Apart from the fact that he had decided to give a baby Bananawani as soon as she turned her first birthday or when he made a replica of the hook he had for the little girl, everything was going well in the relationship between the three of you.

Despite being your copy in terms of features, her personality was much more similar to her father - and she was extremely close to him. With a cunning capable of convincing everyone, it didn't take long for Ella to be able to soften even Daz's heart. There wasn't a thing the girl asked for that Crocodile's faithful partner wouldn't go after. Cross Guild mates were also victims of Ella. In this case, just one of them. Mihawk thought it was funny for someone so small to have such an irreverent stance as Crocodile, despite almost getting him expelled from the Cross Guild when he was caught letting Ella play - or at least try - to manipulate Yoru. As for Buggy, Ella preferred to keep her distance. One of the few things the girl couldn't deal with easily was the existence of clowns.

The scream of horror that crossed the corridor invaded your ears, as well as those of the other two men who were next to you. Recognizing the voice, you and Crocodile jumped to your feet, quickly heading to where you thought the source was. Arriving in the kitchen, Crocodile barely had time to balance himself when he saw Ella hugging his legs, looking for some kind of help.

"A monster daddy, a big monster." Crocodile picked her up and felt the girl's heart racing even with all the fabrics separating him from her skin. "He's right there."

"It's okay, sweetie." your voice reached her ears, which were practically the only possible point of contact. Her eyes were sunk into her father's shoulder, her small hands almost pierced the fabric of his overcoat.

"I have my suspicions about what this monster is." Mihawk, who you hadn't noticed following the two of you, spoke up. "And I agree with you Ella, it's a pretty ugly monster." the cynicism was clear in his voice.

"Look at your father, my little one." Crocodile asked and found two orbs damp with tears. "Was it a monster with an ugly, red nose?"

"You lizard, you don't talk about my nose." Buggy practically rolled out of the pantry, eliciting another scream from the girl who went back into hiding. "She who appeared out of nowhere here."

"He's harmless, Ella." you tried to catch her, but the girl refused to let go of her own father.

"She's in her house, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants." Crocodile's threatening tone didn't go unnoticed. "You know what awaits you, don't you, clown?"

"Hey, I didn't do anything." he grumbled, approaching you already knowing that Crocodile would scalp him soon. "Look here, pretty girl, Uncle Buggy is your friend."

"Everything is fine." you interrupted the clown, who only scared your daughter more. You knew that the two of them probably just bumped into each other in the kitchen, but little Ella's fear spoke louder in these moments. "You are not going to do anything." you muttered to Crocodile and turned to the clown in question. "And can you stop this, you're only scaring little Ella more."

"Let's get out of here, my little baby." your husband grumbled, turning his back and going in front, you couldn't make out exactly what he was saying, but he seemed to be trying to reassure Ella, who was just sniffling now.

The sniffles were replaced by a small laugh, when you looked to the side the reason made you laugh too. Mihawk had turned the blunt side of the sword and hit Buggy a few times, who grunted back.

"We don't scare little girls here, we only scare bad mariners." Mihawk repeated the gesture and you knew he wasn't using any of the full strength he had. "Don't scare little Ella."

The hawk's eyes blinked at the girl, who continued laughing - much to the reassurance of Crocodile, who was already thinking of methods to torture his fellow Cross Guild member. No one scared his little girl.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #rob lucci #lucci x reader #lucci x you #crocodile x you #sir crocodile #crocodile x reader

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ominous-sunshine · 2 years

Text

In the world of TLOU, same sex marriage was never legal. We are talking time stopped in 2003- the most visible queerness was Will and Grace and the like. They didn’t get to see themselves in that world like we can sometimes today.

Bill and Frank’s marriage is even more meaningful in that context.

Edit: Some additional context- in 1996, the Defense of Marriage Act ( DOMA) became law of the land in the United states. DOMA defined marriage as a the union of one man and one woman, and it further allowed states to refuse to recognize same-sex marriages granted under the laws of other states, areas.

On May 17, 2004, Massachusetts became the first U.S. state and the sixth jurisdiction in the world to legalize same-sex marriage but against the back drop of DOMA there were of course complications. Other states such as Vermont had civil unions.

A supreme court decision in 2013 found DOMA unconstitutional and in 2015 Obergefell v. Hodges found that states must license and recognize same-sex marriages. Bill and Frank were probably very aware of the debate in the early 2000's and they absolutely were alive for the AIDs epidemic. There is a lot of history here- much more then I intended to get into with this post. Also, to be clear, the government does not need to be involved to validate anyone's love. What I really wanted to say is that Bill and Frank exist in a time when gay representation was extremely limited. They didn't get to grow up seeing themselves in media. When you saw a gay character on screen it was often a caricature. The world stopped for them fall 2003 and at that time, gay rights were very much a hotly debated thing. To make one of the last things you do in your life to get married in light of the world *they* grew up in just hit me hard.

#the last of us spoilers #hbo the last of us #the last of us #Bill and Frank

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buckrecs · 1 year

Note

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @barnesafterglow

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

Undercover by @buckysknifecollection

You and Bucky go on an undercover mission, where you need to pretend to be married. You are close to solving the case when Bucky decides he’s done pretending.

Make Believe on Christmas Eve by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

Stop flirting with the staff by @writingsoftheloser

You and Bucky go undercover to stop the sale of a very important device.

The Karen’s of the World by @espinosaurusrexex

Aunt Karen is possibly the worst person you know. So when her annual Independence Day party arrives, you try to give her as little reason to pick on you as possible. Not being single for once should cover most of the topics she complains about. So you ask your friend Bucky to play pretend.

Tis the damn season by @starrysebastians

On the first post-blip Thanksgiving, you find yourself having to reunite with your parents and your heart is not in it — Sam persuades you to take Bucky with you, and this might be an opportunity for you two to get to know each other.

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating?

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did.

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel

You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.

Where Dreams Go To Die by @insomniumstella

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fake dating #fake dating #bucky barnes fake marriage #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes college au #bucky barnes modern au #best friend!bucky

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naomikozura · 2 months

Text

Love of My Life: Part 1

Heian Era! Sukuna Ryomen x Sorcerer!Fem!Reader

A/N: Although the first part of this story only mentions the ending of the story, this will be a MULTIPLE part story. The first part does not contain as heavy content but OTHER PARTS WILL. ALL parts are dark themes and have heavy topics. The second part of this story will contain more DARK THEMES and is a work of FICTION. I will post the exact warnings and details when the second part gets published but this is your warning for what to expect. Again it is a DARK THEME story so 18+ ONLY MDNI

Warnings: strong language, violence, mention of mass murder, angst, generational trauma, complicated family dynamics, family abuse, murder, motional turmoil and abuse, manipulation, sadistic tendencies (slight), corruption of power, dark themes (slight)

WC: 8.6K

Summary: The story of the infamous King of Curses has been around for hundreds of years, proving him to be the most feared sorcerer in the entire jujutsu realm. But the truth of what happened that led to the ultimate annihilation of his humanity has been concealed, almost erased. There was a time back in the Heian era when Ryomen Sukuna did have a shred of humanity left… but the loss of it resulted in the creation of the destructive monster he would later become.

Series Masterlist

Prologue || Part 2

Heian Era, 6 Months Before the Burning of Aurora

“Again”

“Again.”

“Again!”

The deep rumble that came from your father led you to the brink, pushing you further into a pit of exhaustion. You’d already been out here for 8 hours, your father’s relentlessness wearing you down but by bit.

“Y/n! I need you to focus!”, he yelled.

You knew your father was level-headed, smart, but since your birth he’d done nothing but train you to be strong and gifted when it came to your ability. Your clan relied on you just like every heir before you, to bring your family honor and grace. You had spent the better years of your adolescence learning about the history of your bloodline, the history of jujutsu, and learning basic technique but now as an adult there was more room for you to be pushed to the brink to train for your special ability.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today.”, your father walked over to you, your arm swiping the sweat off your forehead. “Get home and into a bath, we have dinner with the Zen’in clan tonight.”

A pang of hurt spread through your chest. Among all the training, all the history lessons, all your talent and power, your life was still forced into the hands of your father. You hadn’t only spent the better years of your adolescence learning about jujutsu and your technique, but also the fundamentals of what it meant to be a bride. You knew it was traditionally passed through generations for two families to join together through marriage but a part of you still felt hurt that your father had lined up 3 suitors for your hand. Never once considering your own feelings on the matter.

The Zen’in clan was just one of the three families who produced male heirs around the time you were born. Almost like it was predetermined, the arrangement for your betrothal to one of the main family’s sons was set in stone for you the day your mother held you for the first time. You hated the idea that your life wouldn’t be your own if you married into any of the Three Families, but you knew your duty deep down even into the marrow of your bones.

Once you’d arrived home you soaked in the bath, the maids helped you wash your body of the dirt and grime and helped wash your hair as they massaged a cleansing type of gel into it. You felt the tension in your muscles dissipate with each pass of the sponge and each massage they did in your hair.

Getting dressed for these types of occasions was tiring, feeling the pull of your hair being done in an elegant manner to showcase the beauty of your natural features, your complexion barely needed any powder to make it more presentable. You were beautiful, every sorcerer within the lands knew you were the most coveted and eligible bride due to your family bloodline, your ability, and your beauty. Unfortunately for many, your life was already selected to be given away within the families, not outside of them.

You pulled on your traditional gown, wearing your family's seal colors as you put on a red headpiece that brought out your features beautifully. Red adorned your family home, your sigil painting in the bright crimson to signify strength, sacrifice, protection, and hope. You always felt proud to wear the seal colors yet you couldn’t help but feel like there was no hope for you.

Your family sat in the common area, the Zen’in members sitting properly around the table while the heads talked amongst themselves. You looked over at the eldest son, his dark hair and deep brown eyes striking as he looked at you. He was handsome no doubt, probably a suitable husband but you couldn’t bring yourself to envision a future with him. Despite your wishes, you’d probably marry into the Zen’in family. It was the most logical, beneficial and strategic marriage that your father would have picked for you.

The dinner was simple, quick, a formality to get you and the Zen’in son, Zetsubou Zen’in, introduced. You knew who he was, but never met him in person until now. He was charming, smart, powerful but there was a darkness to him. Something he hid all too well, you wondered if his family knew about his dark tendencies that he kept hidden from the rest of his clan. You knew a marriage to him would be selling your life away, you’d be a shell of a human being with him. He would only bring you hate and despair.

Once the night had ended and you started to unwind, you fell onto your bed and stared at the ceiling, taking in the moonlight that bled through the cracks before turning and looking out the window at all the stars that illuminated the village. Where could the endless reach of the sky take you? Would you go far enough away that you disappear and never come back?

You didn't let your mind wander too much before you fell into a slumber, your mind numbing from the evening's events.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Another village raid.” you heard your father’s voice ring out of his meeting room. You had a bad habit of eavesdropping on his meetings, but you knew he’d keep you sheltered from the jujutsu world until you mastered your domain. You knew it wasn’t protective but strategic. Keep you out of the way until you are strong enough to master your domain and keep low risk of his heir dying.

“He killed every single person there, tortured them, stole the energy they possessed. He’s getting stronger with each village he destroys.”, a second voice spoke out, a third muttering in agreement and the fourth person silent as he slammed his drink on the table.

The Four Families rarely met unless it was important, though with the jujutsu realm slowly establishing itself, every meeting was important.

“We need to get our men, the strongest to train and immobilize him otherwise he’ll only continue to get stronger and more power hungry.”, you recognized the Zen’in clan’s leader, his voice prominent due to the countless visits him, his wife, and son had made to your home in the past few weeks. You and Zetsubou were both being groomed to be each other's marital partner, regardless of how much you wish you weren’t.

“I have 20 men who have been training, many of them have sons who are also starting to get their cursed energy under control and starting with the warriors in the coming weeks. We can expedite that training and have them ready in a month's time.”

“The Kamo clan also have a number of men that are willing to fight for the cause. This is the fifth raid in a month, it seems they’re getting more frequent. How much longer until he targets our territories and steals our energies?”, the Kamo clan leader spoke up, his voice much softer than the rest but held his resolve. “We must act as soon as we can”

“Agreed. Until then, we must keep the heirs focused and trained, we can’t have any loose ends”.

He meant you.

You always knew they meant you. From the beginning theyd always second guessed your ability, you were the first woman to inherit your family’s special technique so they had obvious doubts. You’d grown powerful in your ability over the past few years but the one thing you still couldn’t do was create a domain, something the other three heirs had already mastered a year ago.

You left then, heading to the stables in order to prepare for your training this morning. You slid the door open, making your way down to the final stall and seeing your white, brown eyed mare. She was beautiful, a gift from the Zen’in clan as an interest for your hand in marriage.

You tan a hand over her soft coat, the shine illuminated under the morning sun. It wasn’t too late, only an hour or two before midday so you knew she was well fed and hydrated thanks to the stable hands.

Strapping in the saddle on your mare, you ensured you had everything you needed to go into the open fields. They were several miles away and consisted of open fields perfect for training. You really wanted to indulge in your ability, bring yourself to the fullest potential so you went out to the fields to train often. Your father often hated when you would go alone but you’ve managed to convince him that solo practice was important in order to gain control of your ability. Eventually after much consideration and eagerness, he agreed to let you go on your own. You finished packing your food and water for the day, knowing that most of your sessions often lasted the entire morning and led into the evening, and set out early in order to start your training.

You rode through the forest in silence, letting the sound of the animals in the birds around you fill in the empty space, giving you a sense of serenity, knowing that everything was at peace. We often wondered how much it would take to be as free as the birds who flew the skies or the deer grazed in the fields. You thought much of what it would be like to leave, but your path would never allow you to get away from what was set in stone.

Once you arrive at the training grounds, you let your horses graze in the woods, off in the shaded area while tied to a tree with a long rope to ensure it wouldn’t wander off.

You focused, closing your eyes and feeling the wind around you, your body using every one of its senses to connect to the earth and energy within you. You let yourself feel the wind and taste the freshness of the air, the humidity and feeling of water still present from the storm a few days ago. You listened to every chirping bird and snapping branch from the small creatures in the woods, the smell of fresh dew on the grass bringing you to a calming place and filling you with ease.

You channeled the energy into your hands, the small iridescent light glowing as it grew bigger and stronger. Your eyes remained closed as you focused on getting the technique just right. You wanted to show you could master your inherited technique, that your potential wasn’t going to be wasted on a stupid marriage.

You were still the daughter of the L/n Clan and the heir to the familial bloodline. You were more than just someone to be married for political gain.

You swirled the energy in your hands, growing it with each passing second before it reached its brim yet you forced it to get bigger to expand your capacity.

The wind moved around you and started to swirl into the ball of cursed energy you manifested, pushing yourself before you released and let the energy target some of the trees, exploding on impact and causing a ripple effect that made the birds fly out of the trees and some of the animals run away.

You let out a shaky breath before repeating the steps, this time trying to focus on using your technique on the cursed dummy you had in front of you. You’d often get other sorcerers to cast cursed energy into props in order to help practice your Aurora, each time more precise than the last.

You closed your eyes, blinking them slowly as they glowed in a bright, iridescent green color, focusing all your energy on the prop. You raised a hand to manipulate the individual building blocks, watching as the prop contorted and turning into a deformed figure before a screech released from the inside. It was a cursed spirit inside the prop screaming for mercy. You narrowed your eyes and continued to rip apart the existence of the cursed spirit, pulling its atoms apart piece by piece as the screams intensified before they stopped completely due to the implosion of its figure.

You let out a breath, wiping the sweat off your forehead before starting from square one. You continued for hours, using more of the cursed objects and using them to strengthen your ability.

Once evening arrived, you packed everything, walking to the mare and swinging your leg over her back and shifted to get comfortable. As you were getting ready to leave you heard a crack in the woods, but this time the energy felt different. Your head turned to look at the opposing side of the woods, narrowing your eyes and trying to feel if there were any cursed spirits out. Confused, you turned, nudging your mare towards the direction of L/n House.

The unknown energy slowly growing after you’d left the field.

You had spent the next few days training out in the field, slowly growing in your strength and technique as each session passed. Your father was still weary of your being alone in the fields but with everyday passing and you coming home safely, he began to trust your routine. You still followed a training regiment with him every other day and did your history studies on the weekends. You were all around intelligent, strong, gifted, and resilient.

You pushed yourself back, dodging the hit from the cursed dummy you had made to pose as a fighter with you. It wasn’t strong but it wasn’t weak. A good mid tier practice dummy to help build your endurance. The dummy charged at you as you jumped over it, spinning your body in a flawless way that made you seem like the village dancers during any major celebration.

In the final blow, you swung your foot around, kicking it perfectly in the head before pushing your hand forward, knocking it down before using your ability to disfigure the dumb thing and make it implode in itself, the shrill of pain ringing out before it fell silent. It felt no real pain. Your father said listening to their cries often helped take away their effect. it was the way your enemies guilt tripped sorcerers into submitting to empathy. You knew when you needed to be empathetic and needed to be heartless, even if you didn’t like it.

The sound of snapping made you turn, your hair sticking to your forehead as you met the dark gaze of crimson eyes. You felt your chest jump slightly in surprise but quickly relaxed once you’d let yourself calm with the wind.

Your hair was tied in a high ponytail, your skin glossy from the evening sun as you trained in the field in the outskirts of your home. You looked him over, taking in his menacing appearance which, for you, had no effect in the way you saw him. His skin was tan with dark marks embedded into his skin, the tattoos moving in a swirl of different directions but added to his edge. He wore a robe that showed his muscular chest, his hair messy and weighed down by his sweat. There was no question that the strongest sorcerer would be huge in comparison to the daughter of one of the Four Clan’s leaders, yet the size difference still gave him a swirl of emotion.

You looked at him in a way he hadn’t been looked at before. Your eyes staring at him, almost like calculating his every move as he slowly walked towards you. Ryomen hid the shock in his body when he reached you, pushing down his need to physically express his taken aback reaction. Many people in the world would be in shock, fear, buckle under the weight of his possessive hold over any room or space he occupied. Many people bowed at his feet, begged for mercy from his ruthlessness, he was feared. The story people told their children to keep them well mannered.

And yet, you stood a foot away from him and met his gaze in relaxed confidence. Your eyes held curiosity, not fear. Your body was laid back, not shaking or trembling at his presence. You didn’t buckle at the overwhelming pull of his presence instead you embraced it and met him with your own confidence. You were secure in yourself enough that you held no fear towards him.

His eyes scanned your features, taking in every inch of you in your mutual silence. Your eyes were bright, with the sun making them dark, he could see how they lit up with curiosity and wonder. Your lips and nose were perfectly fitted to your face, making the balance of your features appear more heavenly than anything. It made you attractive, beautiful to everyone who came in contact with you. Your (h/c) hair complemented the tone of your skin and left him wanting to run his fingers through it. He recoiled internally at the thought. When would he ever think such a way towards someone lesser than him?

Were you lesser than him?

He stared at you in observation, an overwhelming sense consuming him. He could kill you easily, snap your neck and make your death seem like one of the families did it and start an all out war. You were so fragile despite your toned body from the obvious years of training. He could just reach over and make you implode from just one touch.

So why didn’t he?

In this moment, against all his beliefs, he considered you his equal. He never considered anyone even remotely close to his realm of power and yet you existed. You showed no fear, you felt secure in yourself, and even being face to face with a morally flawed man, you looked at him with gentle eyes.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, the silence falling over the both of you in a comforting blanket.

In that moment he knew you held power over him, especially when you broke the silence first.

“Is there something you need?”, your voice was soft, relaxed. Had you been anyone else, someone questioning his being in any location would have annoyed him but you asked in such a way that left him soaking in the echoes of your words.

“I’m just passing by.”, he replied, wondering when did he ever answer anyone else’s questions when they’d ask?

“Oh, I hope my training doesn’t stop you from getting where you need to be.”

His curiosity overcame him, making him wonder more about your family. He knew about the L/n clan's heir, young and beautiful, strong and intelligent, soft and gentle. It made her the perfect face for their house and a suitable bride. He’d heard of the Gojo, Zenin, and Kamo clans grooming their first sons to be suitable men to ask for her hand in marriage.

A piece of him churned with an irritation at the thought of you being primed and groomed into marrying someone in an arranged marriage.

“Not at all.”, he replied, his deep voice ringing in your ears. You've heard a lot of Ryomen Sukuna. Your clan elders mention his lack of empathy, his overwhelming power and how he easily could reach an unbeatable level of cursed energy that would make anyone think twice about crossing his path. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of him as scary or evil. There was curiosity in the way he held himself and how he had yet to retaliate against your question when everyone knew he hated being questioned.

“You’re far from your clan lands”, he said flatly, his eyes focused on your form.

“I can use my full potential here.”, you blinked. “It’s hard to push myself to the brink if I don’t have open space. At least here I can unleash everything and learn from my mistakes”, you clenched your hand, looking at the small burst of energy in your hand.

The silence filled the air, once again leaving you in a strange tension you couldn’t quite place. His eyes stayed focused on you before he began to walk past you. His silence leaving you confused, unsure of why stop to talk to you then leave without another word. Then again, he wasn’t going to extend himself to something so minuscule, so mundane.

He was far above that.

Far above you.

“Help me.”, you spoke, watching as he stopped in his tracks.

What were you doing? Requesting someone like him to help someone as insignificant as you.

You’d heard the stories, been told the horrors of his actions and wrath. Ryomen Sukuna was a selfish, greedy, immoral and sadistic man, he brought any competent sorcerer to their knees by simply occupying the space. He believed himself above absolutely everyone in every way and you knew that undeniable truth. You were risking your life speaking to him like he owed you something, asking for help from the devil was brainless even for you.

He stared at you in indifference, taken by your confidence yet he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered by it. A part of him was intrigued by you, even though he hated helping others, he wasn’t necessarily a charitable man. No, he was far from it. The complete opposite of it in fact. He should blow your head off, snap your neck, make you kneel and beg for your life.

Yet, he indulged.

Just this once.

You watched as he removed his robe, leaving him in a loose fitting shirt that showed his arms perfectly. They were muscular and defined, wielding such power that could easily kill someone in one touch. You wondered if he’d killed anyone with his bare hands without his abilities or cursed energy before.

The small flicker of energy that manifested in his hand caught your attention, the manifestation growing in size at an alarming rate but took no toll on his psyche. The years of being gifted with such power and training laid off for him, though you knew he’d always been powerful in his own right.

You watched intently, observing the cursed energy in his hand as you tried to copy the leisure in which he created his. The creation of energy was easy, it was making it compact with force that was difficult for you. You had great mental resilience and capacity for difficult challenges, yet when it came to finding the switch that could make your power compact you struggled slightly.

In every other sense of your ability and cursed energy, you were gifted, it was creating a domain where you lacked. The long days and tumultuous nights of training and reading through scribed records only helped you make sense of a partial reason why you couldn’t manifest a domain, you just needed to actually focus on executing it flawlessly.

“Domain Expansions aren’t easy to manifest.”, you narrowed your eyes slightly at his comment. Why was he trying to dumb it down for you when you knew he was known for manifesting energy at record breaking levels.

“They’re easy enough for you.”, you muttered as his eyes slowly moved to look at you.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Right”, you focused on his words, listening to the instruction he gave, slowly manifesting the energy into your palms.

He watched as you focused, eyes closed as you concentrated on his voice. It was interesting. Seeing as your energy formed in your hands, wondering how you had inherited such a powerful technique and you still struggled with your domain. He couldn’t help wondering why. It was difficult for most sorcerers to manifest a complete domain, but someone with an inherited ability like Eye of Aurora should have some level of giftedness that would allow you to start creating one. He watched your jaw clench as the energy dispersed in your hand, evaporating into nothing.

You released a defeated sigh, letting your shoulders droop as you opened your eyes and staring at the ground in a defeated glare.

“I don’t get it.”, you breathed. “I have this… special ability, a technique that so many sorcerers wish they could use and I can’t even create a damned domain.”

“You’re holding back”, his voice rumbled in his throat, the deep tone sending chills down your spine. Not of fear but of something unknown to you, a sensation that left your heart beating a bit faster than normal.

“Okay”, you muttered. “So show me how to not hold back”

The temperature around you slowly grew, watching as he released an immense amount of energy, causing the trees in front of him to fall from the attack. Your eyes widened at the gaping emptiness he had just created.

Woah.

You let out a shaky breath as you stared at him in a way you could only describe as a mix of shock and awe. The adrenaline burst through you as you channeled your energy, creating a mass in your hands before releasing it, causing a number of trees to fall from the impact. It wasn’t near the caliber of his release but it was still a good conjuring of cursed energy. You knew you’d never reach his level of power, but you felt proud that you could release something at that caliber.

“Let go of that fear of being too unhinged. It’s what holds you back from mastering your domain.”, his voice was deep, your eyes glowing with pride as you felt the after effects of his release. “You can’t master your domain if you care too much about being perfect.”

“I’m not you.”, you answered.

“No one will ever be me.”, you rolled your eyes. You knew that, but you still wanted his help anyway.

A small part of him grew irritated with your slight attitude at his words, but another part found it humorous. It wasn’t very often that a sorcerer at your level could make him find anything humorous. He cared very little, not at all actually, about something as irrelevant as humor or wittiness but coming from you, it made him think he could possibly entertain you for the time being.

He wondered where you got such confidence to not only speak to him freely, but to assume he’d be willing to help you despite his power that was worlds above yours. It wasn’t often there were many humans or sorcerers who didn’t bow to his feet immediately after he became present. He was used to seeing people beg for mercy, used to the people who cried hysterically for him to spare them. He enjoyed the mental torture of never giving away if someone would be spared or not.

So, when you called after him so boldly, against all logic, it intrigued him. He hasn’t been intrigued in a long time, not by a sorcerer in any way especially because he knew he was far above them in every regard. Though he still indulged in your boldness, your lack of fear, by the motivation in your eyes and the drive in your stance.

Before he could even stop himself, he made contact to engage and he believed it to be his biggest mistake. He should have never let you reel him in, never should have let you make him give his time when it was valuable, never should have found you worth the effort.

Then when he didn’t think he could find anything more appealing about you, you smiled at him. It was a warm, full smile. How could you give him a warm welcome when he’s done nothing deserving of it?

“Thanks for the help.”, you laughed, almost in disbelief. “I have to go.”

He watched as you walked over to the mare grazing in the woods, removing the rope from the tree and petting her nose gently. He wondered then how you showed him the same gentleness as the creatures you cared for. His eyes darted away from you, letting himself sit with the realization that you didn’t see him as some godforsaken being.

“Come back tomorrow.”, he called as your head swiveled towards him, your bright eyes meeting his dark ones. “Before the sun reaches its peak.”

With that he turned, leaving you in shock at his demand.

The next day, you did as he had asked, you showed back up to the field ready to train with him. You sat in the grass watching your mare eat while you waited for him. It wasn’t too hot yet but again, it was too early for it to even be warm.

The sound of cracking branches sounded behind you, making you turn slowly as you watched Sukuna’s form emerge from the trees. He stood tall in all his glory, wearing clothes that hung off his body in a way that almost made your face heat up. Even in his dark aura and the intensity of his energy, you couldn’t deny that Ryomen Sukuna was also an attractive man. If your father could hear the thoughts you were having, he’d surely punish you with more physical training.

“Good morning.”, you said softly, his deep red eyes meeting yours but not saying anything as he walked closer to you. You either were too naive for your own good, or you genuinely didn’t realize just how out of turn you were being. Sukuna was known for not liking when people spoke to him out of turn, he hated small talk. He believed it to be useless, a waste of time, and of no benefit. You didn’t need to start with pleasantries but you did so anyway.

“Show me your energy.”, he spoke deeply, his eyes boring into yours as you snapped to attention. You needed to focus, needed to take the most of this time while you could. Sukuna never offered any time of his to a regular person, let alone sorcerers beneath him, this was the only chance you had to gain real insight on how to create strong energy and create your domain.

You manifested a ball of energy into your hands, its vibrant glow pulsing with your heartbeat. The energy crackled and shifted, reflecting your concentration and intent. Sukuna's gaze remained intense, unblinking, as he observed your creation with a mixture of interest and impatience.

"Is this all you can muster?" His voice was a low growl, almost mocking. "You think that will impress me?"

You felt a surge of determination, pushing deeper into your focus. The ball of energy began to expand, growing larger and more intense. You could feel the strain as you struggled to maintain control, your palms growing warm as the energy surged.

"Energy is more than just a display," Sukuna said, his tone suddenly softer, almost contemplative. "It’s about precision, purpose. Show me not just what you can create, but how well you can wield it."

You tightened your grip, trying to focus. The energy swirled and shifted, forming intricate patterns that mirrored your intent. The ball began to take shape, its structure becoming more complex, more refined. You could almost feel the boundaries of your energy beginning to take form, the energy coalescing into a stronger, more cohesive entity.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered with something akin to approval, though his expression remained impassive. "Better. But don’t think for a moment that you’ve reached the limit of what you can achieve. This is merely the beginning."

He moved towards you, his energy radiating off of him as you felt him consume yours, his body close as he looked at you. The obvious height difference made it seem like he was pitying you, but he seemed more interested in helping than anything else. His head lowered, meeting your eye line as he looked straight ahead, looking at the trees ahead of you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the pressure of Sukuna’s proximity. His face was so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath, mingling with the charged air around you. The energy you had summoned pulsed violently in response to the tension, making you sweat and your heart race.

Sukuna’s eyes bore into yours with a fierce intensity. “Let the energy reflect your resolve,” he demanded, his voice a commanding rumble.

You focused on the ball of energy, feeling its weight and power. The intensity of Sukuna’s presence only made it harder to concentrate, as if the very air around you was charged with his overwhelming aura. You grit your teeth as you tried to calm your heart rate down, focusing on keeping the energy stable as you manifested it into something bigger.

“Are you letting your concentration waver?” Sukuna’s voice was almost a whisper now, his breath hot against your cheek. “You think you can achieve mastery with such weakness?”

Your fingers ached as you fought to maintain control. The ball of energy fluctuated, its glow flickering with your wavering focus. Sukuna’s proximity made it even harder to maintain your composure; the heat radiating from his presence was almost unbearable.

“Feel the energy,” he instructed, his tone full of challenge. “Channel your emotions, your fear, your determination. Let it all flow into your control.”

The heat from the energy was now almost unbearable, merging with the heat of Sukuna’s presence. Your hands were on fire, and the energy sphere seemed to pulse with a life of its own. With every breath you took, the tension grew, making your entire body quiver.

“You can do better,” Sukuna said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you must push through the discomfort. It’s not just about controlling the energy—it’s about mastering your own limits.”

Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, but you forced yourself to focus. The energy within your hands began to stabilize, the chaotic flickers giving way to a steady, powerful glow. The sphere grew larger, its form more defined, as you channeled every ounce of your willpower into it.

Sukuna’s face remained close, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re almost there,” he said deeply. “Show me that you’re more than just a fleeting display of power.”

The strain was immense, but you felt a surge of determination. With one final push, you stabilized the energy, making it surge with newfound strength and clarity. The heat from both the energy and Sukuna’s presence reached a peak before slowly subsiding, leaving you gasping but triumphant.

Sukuna stepped back, his gaze finally breaking from yours. “Not bad,” he conceded, a smirk playing on his lips.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on you with a cool, detached scrutiny. The intensity of his presence remained, but his demeanor was notably indifferent. The air between you was charged, the energy still crackling faintly as it dissipated, but Sukuna’s expression betrayed little of the effort you’d put forth.

“It’s enough for tonight,” Sukuna said flatly, his voice carrying an authoritative finality. He took a step back and broke the close proximity though his presence still loomed large. His tone was almost dismissive, as if your efforts were merely a minor inconvenience to him. “You’ve put in your time. Come back tomorrow if you think you can do better.”

You exhaled slowly, your body trembling slightly from the exertion and the intense atmosphere. The heat that had enveloped you gradually cooled, leaving a satisfying ache in its wake. The weight of his indifference stung more than any overt criticism. You felt a pang of frustration mixed with weariness. Despite the effort you’d expended, Sukuna’s gaze remained aloof, as if your struggle was inconsequential.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation. “I’ll be here,” you said, your voice steady despite the exhaustion.

Sukuna merely inclined his head in acknowledgment, his face expressionless. “Good,” he replied. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing with a finality that left little room for interpretation. As he walked away, his imposing figure gradually disappearing into the shadows, you remained in place for a moment longer, your thoughts racing.

You stood there for a moment, the weight of his detached dismissal settling over you. The path ahead was clear, but it felt colder and more daunting in the face of Sukuna’s lack of concern. Still, you gathered your resolve and made your way out, determined to return and prove yourself despite his apparent lack of interest.With a final glance at the space where Sukuna had been, you turned and made your way out of the training grounds, the weight of his words and the promise of future trials hanging heavily in the air.

Tomorrow, you would return, ready to push your limits once again.

Two weeks later

You went out into the woods, riding your mare as you tried to reach the field for your training with Sukuna. He’d helped you the past few weeks, showing you how to manifest your energy and create your domain. You’d been close to creating a full domain several times, he said you just needed to not hold back. You both figured out the reason you couldn’t create a domain was because a subconscious part of you made you hesitate, you wouldn’t allow yourself to reach your full potential. He’d slowly been showing you to let go and embrace your cursed energy fully.

You hummed as you made your way down the small hill on the embedded path that led to the other side of the woods. Almost like a shot to the chest, you felt a chill run down your spine, an immense amount of cursed energy being aimed at you. Before you could react, you felt the sheer force collide into you and your mare, the loud groan escaping her as she collided with a tree. You were thrown completely off, your body slamming into the boulders on the ground, the feeling of blood running down the side of your head making you queasy. Your vision blurred slightly, you were disoriented.

What the hell?

You saw the grueling sight of a disfigured wolf, its body three times the size of a normal one and it had six eyes, its mouth jagged and its teeth rotten as it laughed as it ate your mare. Your eyes widened at the sight, but you couldn’t focus on your now dead companion. You needed to exorcize it and get back home. You were still a mile from the fields, but you couldn’t get there in time, you needed to end this now.

You forced yourself to your feet, the blood running over your eye as you tried to focus on the cursed spirit. You let yourself manifest your cursed energy quickly, focusing on the cursed wolf before aiming at its head, a loud cry escaping its monstrous mouth. The snarl escaped its throat as it ran at you, your body releasing more cursed energy at it and watching as you blew a hole into its shoulder.

There needed to be a way to do this quickly, your body faltering at the dizziness in your head. You were losing too much blood but if you passed out you were as good as dead. You tried to focus, you couldn’t die here. You couldn’t die at the jaws of some mid grade curse. You were a L/n. You were above these types of curses. You were the gifted one, the heir of the L/n clan. The disgrace you’d bring onto your family if you were to die at this moment.

Just then, the cursed wolf ran at you, channeling your energy and sending it full force, watching as it jumped over your attack and lunged at you. Your eyes widened as you jumped off to the side, your body rolling down the hill as it hit the bushes and shrubbery, surely gaining cuts and bruises from the foliage.

Fuck!

You tried getting to your feet, pushing yourself up only to be tackled by the damned thing, your body collapsing and continuing to roll down the drop of the hill, reaching for some sort of branch to keep you from falling further down.

The pain in your body overcame you, letting you slip into unconsciousness for a split second as you tried to regain your thoughts. The blurriness wouldn’t allow you to see your surroundings until the jaws of death snapped in your face, the momentum pushing you back.

“Get off!”, you forced the creature off of you with a surge of energy, struggling to get to your feet as you sucked in a deep breath. You were in fight or flight, and right now flight did not seem like a viable option.

The wicked snarl rang out again as the cursed wolf seemed to radiate unbelievable negative energy. It lunged at you, its teeth ready to rip you apart but before it could you felt a surge of power overwhelm the space, a loud high pitched cry escaping the throat of the creature. You let out a breath of air, turning to look at the blurry figure next to you, your breath uneven as another light manifested in a white, blinding power before completely evaporating into nothing.

Your breath was uneven, trying to calm yourself, but just as the spirit disappeared, your body collapsed to the ground as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~

The warm blankets around your body helped with the soreness that overcame you, your eyes still hazy from the slumber you were in. You moved your head slightly, your hair splayed around you in a halo as you tried to move your arms. You felt a presence next to you, trying to focus your sight as you blinked, taking in the comfort you felt from the figure.

Sukuna…

“Don’t get up.”, his voice was deep, careful yet with command in its tone.

“W..what happened?”, you whispered, your head turned in his direction as you met his gaze, the feeling of his fingers brushing your hair back bringing a warmth into your chest. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my home.”, he turned, motioning for a white haired woman to bring more water. “You lost some blood trying to fight that cursed spirit. I killed it.”

“Oh..”, the white haired woman came back with a small bowl and towel, bowing before leaving. You relaxed in his touch as he placed the wet towel on your head, helping clean the remains of the blood on your skin.

“You need to rest.”, he said firmly.

“I need to get back home”, you looked at him with pleading eyes, not wanting your family to have a reason not to trust you being out on your own. You needed to get home soon, and fast.

“You’ll pass out before you even reach your territory.”, Sukuna’s red eyes had a darkness to them, but you chose to ignore it, your mind everywhere and without a care of the extent of your injuries. You felt his hand wrap around your wrist, gentle to not burn your skin with the energy he had conjured up due to his irritation with your injuries.

“Sukuna, my father will send scouts looking for me.”

“Fuck them.”, his tone was sharp, his energy slowly growing in size. Your pleading e/c eyes looking deep into his, a sharp sting of sympathy flooded his veins before he released the negative cursed energy. The crack in his armor miniscule yet it created waves of confusion in him. How could you make him slip in his position with just one look?

He ignored the thought, narrowing his eyes before standing and walking to the small wooden dresser, picking up your clothes and placing them on the table next to his bed. You watched as he turned towards the door to give you privacy, his body dressed in his usual robe but you could still see the outline of his muscles and the massive power his body held. You couldn’t help but take a moment and admire his body. Your mind took in every inch of his being, allowing yourself to forget about his crimes and cruelty in order to study him. Were you fucked in the head?

You snapped out of the hold his presence had on you, reaching for your clothes only to realize he’d had them cleaned. Was it that woman who cleaned them for you?

You changed, carefully and stood out of the bed, touching your head as you felt the fresh bandages wrapped around your forehead and temples. Pushing the sliding door open, you revealed him waiting for you, his tall statue leaning against the wall as his eyes skimmed over your body before pushing the glint in his eyes away. You both didn’t say a word, you just followed him as he walked out of his home.

He led you through the woods, ensuring you’d arrive to L/n House in one piece and conscious. When you were within range you turned to him, looking up to meet his gaze due to the obvious height difference.

“Thank you.”, was all you said before turning, walking the last half mile home, feeling his eyes on your back as you followed the path. It was only when you reached the entrance of your home did you feel his energy disappear and your shoulders slumped in disappointment.

You slowly pushed the door open, closing it softly behind you when the echo of your father’s voice rang through the room.

“Y/n, it’s late, where have you been?”, your father called from the other room, your mother rushing towards you before a loud gasp escaped her mouth.

“Y/n! What happened to your head?”, her question made your father rush into the room, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

“Where have you been? How did this happen?!”, his tone was heavy, it wasn’t worry but anger and you knew he was more annoyed by your injury than worried about it. “You can’t possibly be getting this from your special ability?”

You could read in between the lines of his words. He wasn’t worried you were hurt, he was annoyed by you being injured at the effects of your domain and special technique. He was annoyed that he would have to face scrutiny for not being able to master your ability and domain, thus leaving him with a weaker claim to the family honor than he originally thought. He already hated that you were what the gods had given him to carry the family name, you being weak was just another hit at his pride. Regardless of how the realm saw you, regardless of how you were loved and respected, to him you’d always be the reason he didn’t have a high claim like the other families of the Four did.

“Do you really believe I’m so weak I can’t control my own technique?”, you stared at him in disbelief, in hurt. “Do you think so little of me?”

“You are the heir to our family name! If you can’t control your technique then what have I spent the past 20 years of my life doing?!”, his voice was filled with conviction, the anger bursting through each word. “We already have a weaker claim to our position in the realm because you were born as a daughter instead of a son and now you show up like this? We need you to be strong, intelligent, and better than those other boys, and you still show me more reasons why you should have never inherited the Eye of Aurora.”

You felt your lips quiver slightly, the lump in your throat growing as you tried to stop yourself from cursing your father. You knew he’d always hated that you weren’t born his son, but you believed if you proved him wrong he’d have no choice but to find pride in you and your power to succeed the L/n name. You couldn’t take his unrealistic standard of you anymore, you just couldn’t.

“I am not here to fix your broken ego or make your insecurities better.”, you growled at him. “I am your only heir, I am the inheritor of the Eye of Aurora, and I am the reason our family has a place in the Four families! Me! I’m the one who’s loved and adored by the other families and villages. I am the one they seek to protect, the one they seek to continue in this time of peace without war. When I was born, so was our legacy. You have done nothing to solidify our claim to the realm but I have!”

The anger boiling inside your father was overwhelming, your frustration with him was a disgrace but you couldn’t take it anymore. You were tired of being seen as some weak woman by him, as some sort of disappointment when you were the greatest thing that had happened to the realm in decades. The Eye of Aurora was seen as one of the highest of abilities, that of nobility. Your insolent father was too obsessed with power and reputation to care that you were the successor of a noble jujutsu bloodline.

“You are nothing without our family name. You need to get your technique under control or so help me. I'll have the old sorcerers from the Zen’in clan exorcize it out of you and let your body rot without your ancestors to guide you!!”, his voice echoed through the halls.

You sensed an overwhelming power, sucking in a breath before releasing your own. A pang of shock at its sudden appearance before relaxing. The energy had disappeared.

“It wasn’t even my ability that did this! I got attacked by a cursed wolf in the woods!”, you spat back at him.

“And you didn’t think to send a signal for help or try to use your technique?!”

“I was getting attacked from every blind spot I had! It killed my mare, it jumped me from behind, I didn't even sense the energy before it was too late!”

“Great so now you can’t sense cursed energy. You really are just a sorry excuse of an heir, a defective worthless waste of potential!”

The dagger twisted deeper into your chest at his words. Why couldn’t he understand? Why was he so selfish, insolent, and greedy?

“You’re the heir to our family bloodline and you almost get killed. It would be better off that way.”, he turned to walk out of the room, with your mother closely behind him. You pitied her lack of backbone, lack of support towards you.

“I was fine!”, you snapped. “Sukuna helped me exorcize it, I didn’t need help from anyone else!”

A cold sensation filled the room, realizing your words as you said them. Your eyes meeting your father’s as he turned towards you. His eyes filled with a shock and disgust that left you feeling sick to your stomach.

“What…. Did you just say?” his voice sent a chill down your spine. “Did you say… Ryomen Sukuna… helped you?”

“I-“, a loud slap echoed through the air, your head snapping to the side from the impact. Your eyes wide in disbelief as the burning in your cheek exploded through your face. It felt like time stopped, the whiplash of the hit burning a hole in your chest.

“You were with that monster?!”, his booming voice filled the house, his cursed energy radiating off of him in waves. “What do you think you’re doing with that thing? He could have killed you! He’s a sadistic monster!”

You remained silent as you felt the anger fill the room, hearing your mothers gasp at your father’s words. The trembling of your lip almost broke you, your chest burning in anger, hurt, and sadness.

“You are not to go out to the fields again. You stay within L/n house and your training will be overseen by the elders.”, your face stayed angled down to the ground, your heart racing in your chest as your father made the final blow.

“Now you sympathize with a monster. You really are a defective disgrace.”

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