#( ╱ you remain in the past even when no one is watching ╱ ooc. )

[saintobio]

⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹ ON TRACK.

when being the WAG of a rookie MotoGP rider earns you the front-row seats to a thrilling race and... an unsightly amount of groupies.

▞▞ pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader

▞▞ genre. fluff, established relationship, biker boy au, motogp rider au

▞▞ tags. biker!sukuna, motogp rider!sukuna, sukuna rides for ducati, WAG!reader, ooc, profanity, mentions of reckless driving, jealousy, insecurities, accidents, mentions of injuries, sukuna gets a little touchy in the end

▞▞ notes. 1.8k wc. do we miss biker!sukuna? i think we all miss biker!sukuna !! bahaha the influx of biker!sukuna fanarts made me write this. and also bcos i watched motogp clips on tiktok. rbs and comments highly appreciated! :D

Have you ever imagined Sukuna as a MotoGP rider? 

Well, his passion for bikes didn’t just stay confined to the open road. He knew he was destined for more than just the city’s freeways and the thrill of 1000cc machines. He was, as a matter of fact, made for the track. 

Yes, the scary, dangerous, exhilarating world of high-speed competition.

When he had first told you about competing in MotoGP, you were thrilled for him. Truly, because you knew that the series had been his lifelong dream. Before, he was just a little boy who collected bikes for toys, and now he had the chance to make his dream a reality. So, who were you to stand in the way of that?

In fact, you were incredibly supportive—always present at his races, always cheering for him from the stands. It didn’t matter if you’d lose your voice the next day. You had to be his biggest supporter. And today was just another one of those days where your duty as his #1 fan called for you to be there and root for him with all your heart. 

Today’s MotoGP race was in full swing, and your heart pounded in rhythm with the thundering bikes tearing down the track. They all passed by in a resounding zoom! where your eyes could barely keep up from their otherworldly speed. From your vantage point in the VIP section, you watched intently as the riders navigated the circuit, your eyes never straying far from one rider in particular—Sukuna, your longtime boyfriend, riding a Ducati Desmosedici GP24.

“I’m so nervous,” you murmured, hands clasped together as your eyes remained glued to your lover. 

Sukuna was a sight to behold on the track, and he always told you that his bike was an extension of himself as he maneuvered with precision and aggression. Honestly, it must be scary to be the one riding such powerful superbikes, especially when the roar of engines alone was a symphony of speed and power that sent chills down your spine. And while you were filled with anxiety watching your boyfriend on the circuit, the red and black Ducati eventually flashed past, neck and neck with the Aprilia rider, and the two bikes locked in a fierce battle for the lead. 

You could imagine the commentators keeping a close eye as they narrated the race on live television.

But you trusted in Sukuna’s talent. His ability to escape from cops with his old R6 back in his college days was proof enough of how ridiculous he could get with his speed. He didn’t get a single ticket because he managed to outrun them all. Though, of course, that wasn’t something you should be mentioning to anyone. He wasn’t actually proud of notoriety and history of reckless driving before, especially when he recalled having endangered your life once before while you rode with him as his backpack. 

And since Sukuna upgraded to being a professional rider now, you had your fair share of an upgrade, too. That manifested in the form of being part of the so-called WAGs—or wives and girlfriends of the racers. Life as a WAG wasn’t drastically different from your previous one, except now your boyfriend was a huge global sensation in the biker community, and you had become somewhat of a fashion icon yourself. That wasn’t even an exaggeration, because every time you were seen with him publicly, people would soon be talking about your off-duty looks and outfits all over social media. 

But going back to the main star of the show, your hands clenched around the railing, knuckles white, as the race progressed. It annoyed you that the Aprilia rider was pushing him to the edge but never quite managing to overtake. Tailing the two were the riders for Honda, Gresini, Pramac, and KTM among the few.

Cupping your hands around your mouth, you cheered for your boyfriend. “Go, baby! Let’s go!”

The giant screen above the track zoomed in on Sukuna, his Arai helmet fitting the aesthetics of his big, red bike. The effortless way he handled his bike sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. There were lots of cheering, screaming, roaring, and… well, squealing. Your head naturally turned to the group of girls nearby who were the very cause of the high pitched noises, their squeals of delight making the other WAGs around you shake their heads in amusement.

“Oh my God, he’s so hot!” 

“Look at him! He’s perfect!” 

“Sukuna, marry me!” 

“I’ll give you my number later!” 

“God, I wanna hook up with him.” 

“Girl, me too!” 

“You think we should wait outside his hotel later?” 

“Count me in!” 

Groupies. You felt a surge of pride mixed with a twinge of jealousy as you watched their frenzied adoration for your boyfriend. Literally. Your fingers were itching to gouge their eyes out. You wondered if he had ever been tempted to cheat, that when you were busy with your own corporate life outside of being his girlfriend, he might have rewarded himself by sleeping with an influencer or two. Probably models, too. Those tall, gorgeous women who often get partnered with him on ads and photoshoots.  

But the thing was, you couldn’t blame them—yes, your boyfriend was undeniably handsome, and his chiseled features and intense gaze made him a magnet for attention. A true eye-candy if you may add. Not to mention, he had the most attractive tattoos you had seen in a man. Ever. 

But he was yours, and that knowledge filled you with a sense of triumph over the hundreds and thousands of girls that were fantasizing about him.

Then, in the middle of your trance, an accident struck.

It was a blur of red and black as Sukuna’s bike suddenly wobbled after the rear wheel slipped on a patch of oil left behind by another rider. You held your breath in, praying to every saint that he remained safe, as you watched him struggle to regain control while the bike fishtailed dangerously. 

“Oh, gosh. Oh, gosh.” Your brain rattled with anxiety as you gripped onto the railings. “Baby, no. No, be careful! You got this!” 

For a moment, it seemed he might manage to stay upright, but then the inevitable happened. Sukuna went down in a matter of seconds, and his bike skidded out from under him in a shower of sparks.

“Oh, shit!” 

A collective gasp rose from the crowd, and your heart was lurching in your chest as you saw how your lover hit the tarmac. The medics immediately rushed onto the track, while you were still awestricken as you stared at the screen displaying his fall. 

“Please be okay, baby! Please,” you muttered under your breath again and again. 

A fellow WAG eventually placed a hand on your shoulders, rubbing you comfortingly. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Their gears are made for this.”

She spoke like true champ, and you knew you could put some trust in her words since she was a seasoned WAG. She had probably seen worst accidents that her husband had gone through while on track.

Still, you couldn’t help yourself. What if Sukuna sustained really terrible injuries? What if he broke a bone or two? What if he experienced a concussion? And if he did, what if he’d no longer remember you when he wakes up? Oh, Jesus. Your overthinking was the true culprit here. Yet there was nothing you could really do but wait for good news and hope that nothing too serious happened. Seconds felt like hours, and you were almost about to faint until you saw Sukuna finally standing up between the medics that surrounded him, waving to signal that he was okay albeit limping a little.

“Thank fuck!” 

“See? I told you he’s fine.”

Relief flooded through you, but unfortunately, such joy ended up being short-lived. Sukuna had lost precious seconds in the fall, seconds that allowed the Aprilia to pull ahead. And by the time he got back on his bike and rejoined the race, the gap was already too wide. 

He crossed the finish line in fifth place, a position that felt like a heart-shattering defeat after having been so close to victory.

As soon as the race was over, you didn’t even think twice when you made your way down to the paddock, pushing through the crowd and the throng of zealous fans just to reach your boyfriend. Your heart was still racing, almost akin to the superbikes that were speeding on the track moments ago, as you desperately looked for the love of your life. Only when you rounded the corner did you finally see him, helmet off and leathers dusty from the fall, talking with his team.

“Lovey!” you called out, face full of worry.

Sukuna was quick to turn at the sound of your voice, his expression softening the very moment his eyes landed on you. With long strides, he removed hi’s gloves and closed the distance between you two, and before you knew it, you were wrapped in his arms, the scent of leather and motor oil enveloping you in a comforting hug.

“Are you okay?” you asked, pulling back just enough to search his face for any signs of injury. “I was losing my mind back there!” 

As if he didn’t just experience a dangerous fall, he had a mischievous smile displayed when he looked at you. “I’m fine, baby. Just a little bruised ego.”

“It’s not a joke,” you whined, arms crossed at his lack of seriousness to the matter. “I was so scared when I saw you go down."

Very sweetly, he cupped your face in his hands and nuzzled his nose against yours. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m still alive, right?”

That’s true, you thought. But also… “You came in fifth,” you said, letting out a quieted sigh. 

But the Ducati rider himself was merely chuckling. Not even an ounce of heartbreak was shown on bis face. “Fifth place isn’t the end of the world, babe. I can live with that.”

You shook your head, not understanding how he could be so calm. Really. “But you were so close. You could have won!” And you’d blame it on your hormones, but you remembered the group of girls who cheered him on and decided to bring it up. “By the way, you had all those girls ready to throw themselves at you earlier. One of them even suggested waiting outside your hotel to hook up with you.” 

“Really? Where are those baddies?” he joked, looking around and trying to spot the girls until you flicked his forehead. “Ow! I was just kidding, babe. You’re the only one riding this dick day and night.” 

“Not funny.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He started attacking your cheeks with squeezes. 

While you, you tried your best to swat his hand away. “I’m not. Stooop—! You’re so annoying!” 

“Okay, okay!” He let out a deep chuckle as he raised his hands in surrender. “Anyway, I don’t care about them. I’ve already won the most important race of all."

You blinked twice in the same second, not comprehending his words. “What do you mean?”

Sukuna’s eyes soon softened into a teasing gaze. “I have my beautiful girl in my arms right now. That’s the only victory that matters to me.”

As much as you tried to contain it, a smile eventually broke across your face. “You’re such a sap!”

“Only for you,” was his elfish response, pulling you closer. 

The celebrations continued around you as the media and the crowd swarmed into the paddock. Sukuna held your waist tightly the entire time, all while acknowledging the people that greeted him and asked him for signatures. While in his arms, you realized that he was right. Winning or losing on the track didn’t matter because he already had you—and that was his true and greatest victory.

As cringe-worthy as that may sound. 

“I do have a request, though.” Your boyfriend focused his attention back on you, giving your bum a playful squeeze in front of everyone before he moved his face closer to your ear. “Make me feel like a winner in bed tonight.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi! I would love to request something for Aemond x fem or gn reader. I was thinking reader saying prompt. 15 from your general list “I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are. Although you look pretty great too."

Maybe one day he wakes up with bad pain in the eye and he doesn’t feel like calling the maester so they help him, they remove his eyepatch and apply his ointment for him. And he feels extremely insecure because it’s the first they saw him without the eyepatch but they reassure him. I need that man to cry in my arms as I tell him he’s beautiful (I know it may sound ooc but he’s my babygirl)

15. ''I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are. Although you look pretty great too.''

The gif from the trailer fits perfectly this request

Warnings: mention of past injuries (eye)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You returned to your chambers after spending the morning embroidering with Helaena to find Aemond still in bed. A frown drew between your eyebrows. At this hour, he was either training with Ser Criston or attending the small council meeting.

‘’Aemond?’’ Your soft voice cut through the silence of the room, waking your husband’s attention.

He shifted under the covers, his single eye fluttering open. ‘’Could you tell Cole I will not be training with him today?’’

You walked over to the bed, taking a closer look at him. ‘’Are you well?’’ You touched his forehead with the back of your hand, checking for a fever.

‘’It’s just…my eye. It gets irritated sometimes.’’ Aemond avoided your gaze, not wanting to see the familiar look of pity that he had grown all too used to seeing in the eyes of others. ‘’Would you want me to fetch the maester? He should have something to sooth your pain,’’ you offered, concern etched on your face.

‘’No need for the maester.’’ He gently caught your hand in his own, stopping you from rising. ‘’I already have a salve Maester Orwyle gave to me. It’s on the table, over there.’’

Aemond let go of your hand, allowing you to stand and retrieve the salve for his eye. You returned to the bed. ‘’I’ll do it for you.’’

You had offered your help out of pure kindness, but Aemond did not want it.

‘’No! I do not wish that.’’ His voice was firm, causing your hands to crisp around the jar. ‘’You won’t like what you see under,’’ he added with a gentler tone.

He knew what lay beneath the eyepatch — the grotesque, scarred skin that he had lived with for years now. It was a sight he preferred to keep hidden from everyone, even you. Especially you. Since you’ve known each other, you’ve only seen his good looks, and Aemond wanted to keep it that way.

Aemond let out a soft hiss of pain as he sat up, his body tense with discomfort. It had not been this bad in a long time.

Seeing him in pain made your heart ache, but you tried to hide it.

You sat down close to him and guided him back against the pillows. He clenched his jaw, trying to bear the pain.

‘’Let me,’’ you insisted, only wanting to help him, to relieve his pain.

His good eye was fixed on yours with a mixture of resignation and reluctance. He knew there was no arguing with you when you were like this.

With a resigned sigh, he slowly removed the eyepatch, revealing the scarred skin beneath. The sight was a stark contrast to his usual handsome features, with its puckered and uneven texture. He averted his gaze, unable to look at you directly.

Aemond waited for your response, his body tense, and braced for your reaction. He expected disgust, pity, perhaps even revulsion. After all, his scarred eye had left other people speechless in the past. He glanced up at you under his lashes, searching your face for any hint of how you were feeling.

You remained silent as you applied the salve on the reddish-pink skin with the more careful and gentle touch. Causing him more pain was the last thing you wanted.

Aemond couldn't help but watch you intently, studying the focused expression on your face. Your eyes were fixed on his scar, but there was no repugnance in your gaze, just a mixture of concern and tenderness.

Once you were finished, you put the lid back on the jar and cupped your husband’s face with one hand. ‘’Aemond,’’ you began, looking at him with the most loving eyes. ‘’I fell in love with you. Not for how you look, just for who you are.’’ You glanced down at his naked chest, seeing the softly defined muscles he acquired from training, and back to his face. ‘’Although you look pretty great too.’’

Aemond's heart squeezed at your words and the tenderness in your gaze. He had expected a lot of things from you, but not this. Not such unconditional acceptance and love.

"You're the only person who's ever looked at me like this," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion.

‘’Come here.’’ You shifted back on the bed and guided him to your lap.

Aemond didn’t protest, curling up to you, seeking comfort and closeness. You began to stroke his hair gently, running your fingers through the soft silver strands. The sensation was soothing and intimate, making him feel safe and entirely loved for the first time.

—

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[xxsabitoxx]

Ryomen Sukuna NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 11 :) - I've developed an unhealthy obsession with true form Sukuna... he is all I think about now. Forgive me because this one is for sure a bit OOC since he like... loves you

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

If you managed to break the hollow icy shell that is Sukuna’s heart and make yourself someone important to him… Sukuna is pretty damn good with aftercare. He’ll clean you up, even ordering someone to get numbing salves because he tore you the fuck up and he know’s you’ll be sore and aching within a few hours if you aren’t already. He’ll use two arms to cradle you gently while his other set works on cleaning you up and making sure you’re okay. He’ll wait until you’re sleeping to whisper praises to you, telling you that you did so well for him and that he adores you. He’ll never really say these things to you when you’re awake though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sukuna loves your legs and thighs, he loves your hips and your stomach too. He loves having things to hold and your body provides so much softness for him. He loves to kneel before you – that’s right the king of curses kneeling before you – to lick all the way from the top of your foot up to your inner thigh. He’ll cover your legs in bruises and bites, making sure everyone is well aware that you are his property and nobody else can have you. He adores your stomach, often resting his head against it and letting you pet his hair lovingly. Sukuna will only show this level of vulnerability to you, letting down some – not all – of his walls. 

Sukuna loves his entire body, four arms, two mouths, two dicks, and all. He considers it his masterpiece and it deserves to be worshiped. He has no shame in proclaiming this either. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he’s not dumping several loads into your cunt/ass then what’s the point? Sukuna treats his cum just as he treats the rest of his body… It's sacred and a privilege to have it. He toys with the idea of painting your face or chest in it but ultimately doesn’t see the point in letting something so valuable go to waste. So creampies are the only way in Sukuna’s eyes. And trust me when I say this man cums a fucking boat-load. I don’t care if it’s realistic or not, he’s making you look bloated by the time he’s done with you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sukuna would let you do anything you wanted to him… he just hasn’t found the strength to give you that knowledge yet. He hates the idea of someone holding power over him, which is why he’s ever so mildly terrified of you. You may not realize it, but you have Sukuna wrapped around your finger… that man would kill the entire planet for you if it meant seeing you smile. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sukuna is very experienced, having tens if not hundreds of harlots laying around for his use. But that was before you. You changed his view on that sort of thing and he got rid of every single one of them… you are all he needs to remain satisfied and that is a feeling Sukuna never thought he'd experience in his existence. Sukuna knows what he’s doing and he knows what he’s doing well.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sukuna’s favorite position is holding you up so your back is pressed to his chest. He has a hand hooked under each of your knees and he’s holding you up that way, spreading you apart further than your legs really allow. Sukuna is either sitting or standing and honestly he prefers when a mirror is present so he can watch your face contort in a mix of pain and pleasure. He has you impaled on his cock, easily able to trust in and out of you as you fall apart. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not even a hint of goofiness in this man when he fucks you. He is all about business… I mean for real it was actually kind of terrifying at first but now you’re used to it. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sukuna doesn’t really give a shit about his hair down there… and yes it’s pink like the rest of his hair. It may sound fucking bizarre but if you want to trim and clean him up down there? He’ll let you do it. You bathe him often so it’s not necessarily out of your comfort zone to sit there and groom his nether region. He doesn’t really care what you do down there either. You can simply trim him to your liking or shave him bald. Whatever you’re into, he truly doesn’t care. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sukuna is… romantic in his own way. He’s not detached from the situation at hand and he’s not focused entirely on himself. Sukuna shows his “romantic” side by letting you cum, maybe sparing you a few kisses, rubbing his thumb across the nail marks he left on your legs… he’s not one to say “I love you” or really express how much you mean to him. But it’s the small, subtle little things that hint towards his affection for you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s got four hands, you’d think he’d use one of them to get himself off but he simply doesn’t see a need for that when he can have a random whore come do it for him. When it comes to you though? You never leave him, like Uraume, you’ve earned your spot by his side. He has you to assist him with those kinds of needs when they arise (heh). Though, he’s amused you once or twice by jerking himself off for your own enjoyment. Making a show of using two hands to jerk off his two cocks but stopping just before he comes because – as i’ve said – he doesn’t like to waste any of it, not a single drop can be spared. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Slave/Master kink for one… he just likes the feeling of being superior even though he doesn't need to “roleplay” to get that feeling. BDSM… or whatever equivalent there is for the Heian period. He likes it rough, messy, even a little bloody. Sukuna has a massive breeding kink but doesn’t want kids, he just likes the idea of filling you over and over again (regardless if you have the ability to get pregnant or not). Dacryphilia for sure, your tears turn him on. Orgasm control (both denying and overstimulation) are just another aspect that plays into his love of power. Sukuna loves restraints in any form, not him, though. He will for sure try and fist you. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Sukuna will fuck you where ever the fuck he wants too with no shame. He’ll fuck you on his bed, ruin the luxurious sheets and break the bedframe over and over. It’s gotten to the point where he actually got rid of it all together because he was sick of the wood splintering and nearly hurting you. Sukuna can and will fuck you on a raised platform in front of his petrified subjects. He wants everyone to know who you belong too – even if you don’t need to be fucked stupid in front of hundreds of people for them to know. It’s quite obvious. To be totally honest, Sukuna loves the mess and mayhem of fucking you in the tub. Watching the water slosh everywhere then ordering a maid to come clean up the damage, it makes him laugh. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There is an innocence to you that really gets Sukuna going. You’ve done the most downright filthy things with him, you’ve stood beside him as he makes a bloody mess of someone… but somehow you still retain this sort of innocence to you that he loves to try and taint. It’s not to say you’re oblivious… you’re very smart in Sukuna’s eyes and he knows you have a mean streak. But when you’re with him… there is something about you that he wants to break so badly and he has such fun trying to do so… you’re resilient which would usually piss him off to no end… but with you it’s endearing and he can’t figure out why he can’t get enough (you’re in love dumb ass) 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Shit. Yeah no that’s the one thing he can not and will not deal with. He’s had his fair share of bodily fluids – to say the least without going into detail. But he draws the line at anything to do with vomit or scat. It disturbs him… which is saying a lot. He’s had women offered to him as sacrifice that have done several things in fear and he can say he truthfully cannot handle it. Also, no threesomes ever. He’s not sharing you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s a healthy combination of both (shocking). Sukuna loves watching you struggle to even take one of his cocks in your mouth nevermind both. But your mouth feels so damn good even though you struggle to get more than the tip past your lips. Sukuna loves to go down on you though, keeping your thighs spread apart so he can eat you as he pleases. Your arousal just tastes so good to him, he can’t get enough and he will not stop until he’s satisfied. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Rough and cruel for the most part. But he can be even meaner when he goes unbearably slow, splitting you open agonizingly with two cocks opposed to one just to see those pretty tears slip down your cheeks as you beg and plead for mercy (mercy he never gives). Sukuna will fuck you stupid with one cock most of the time, that’s his little bit of kindness towards you, but you’ll get fucked twice at least… ya know… gotta get the second cock off too. He’ll give you a choice, get fucked twice with one cock each time or get fucked once with two… mind you it’s never just once even if it’s two cocks at the same time or one each. You’re smart enough to take one cock multiple times unless you want to be bedridden because you can’t walk. Both options have happened to you many times though… so you really can’t tell why he offers you a choice. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sex can take up a whole day when it comes to Sukuna. So, no, he despises quickies. He doesn’t like to be rushed, he doesn’t care if he gets caught, he’ll make people watch. What is there that would really appeal to him??? It seems more annoying than anything really. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He will experiment but only on his own accord. He won’t say it outright but Sukuna is at least a bit mindful of the experiments he does… he doesn’t want to really hurt you or scare you away. So he picks and chooses what he wants to try on you. If there is something very intriguing to him that he worries will make you uncomfortable? He’ll force two other people to play it out while he watches and decides from there… he’s oddly considerate of you in that sense. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As you saw above… sex can be an all-day process for Sukuna. He can last as long as he wants to… and I mean that seriously. His stamina is infinite, nothing will stop him but himself. He can go multiple rounds until you’re so fucked out you’ve lost count. He can last anywhere from 15-25 minutes per round, he could last much longer but his goal is inevitably to cum so why bother… praying for you honestly. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Toys like we know today don’t exist within his era (the Heian period) and honestly?? Sukuna is a fucking jungle gym in his own right so you really don’t need toys… and even if they did exist and were at his disposal? Sukuna isn’t using them. Why the hell would he rely on a stupid little toy to get you off when he’s more than capable?? He’s not intimidated by them, he just would think they’re absolutely useless… modern day though… if you begged him for a vibrator he would probably cave and get you one. He may even find amusement in it. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sukuna and fair do not belong in the same sentence so it should shock nobody that this man will tease you until you are nearly dry heaving with how hard you’re crying. He will tease you for hours, to the point it feels like genuine torture, before he feels like getting you off. Then, the unfair attitude continues because he will not stop even when you start begging him to. He likes how quickly he can make you regret your words, seeing those pretty fat globs of tears leaking down your cheeks only makes the experience better for him. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sukuna will curse and groan but that’s about it. He won’t try and hide his noises, either, but he will try and make sure he’s not too loud. It’s rare to get a moan, whine, or whimper out of him. Especially since he has such good control over himself. But he will not hesitate to groan about how good his cock is feeling because of you… he has to give you a little something to get you to stick around, ya know? Not that you have a choice… and not that you’d really want to leave him anyways… giving up your luxurious lifestyle and being on the king of curses’ good side isn’t something just anyone can obtain, you know. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sukuna hates your family, ever since you were dropped off to him to be a sacrifice. He doesn’t care about his donors and their sacrifices since all of them are mediocre pieces of shit at best. Though he knows a scumbag like him is not one to talk. But you? You arrived to him nearly beaten to death, half naked, with little to no emotion left in you. What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Where was the fun in playing with something that was already half dead. Though, as he was about to kill you, something in your expression moved his icy heart. That truly petrified him but he’d never let anyone know it. He kept you instead of killing you, ordering for the immediate execution of your rotten family instead. He likes to joke that he had the perfect specimen nursed back to health, in his eyes you really were perfect. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sukuna is a tall man… while we don’t know his exact height in true form… he’s been guesstimated to be anywhere from 7.5 feet to 9.8 feet. A tall man is going to have a monstrous cock… or cocks in his case. When he’s soft he’s about 8.5 inches in length, and when he’s hard he’s just over 11 inches. He’s monstrous, girthy and sticks straight out… both of them do. He will hurt… he will make you feel like you’re getting ripped in half and he will often try and fist you to prepare you for him. He cannot fit all the way inside of you, as much as he’d love to, he's not trying to kill you by rupturing your organs. He’s a tan color, one dick is circumcised, the other is not… he was feeling quirky,  and has a deep rosy pink tip… or tips… you know what I mean. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Sukuna has to fuck you at least twice a day, if he doesn’t, he’s extremely irritable. He has at least 5 hours of his day set aside just for you. But really he makes his own schedule so he can do whatever the fuck he wants when he wants to. His sex drive is pretty damn high and he does absolutely nothing to deal with it or hold off. He will get off the moment he wants too. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sukuna prefers falling asleep after you do, which can be pretty instant considering how long he may have been fucking you. So the answer is anywhere between 30 seconds and 10 minutes. 

[avtrbee]

the prince [2]

✢summary: what happens when your husband brings home a son that is not yours?

✢tags: arranged marriage gojo satoru x reader, reader is a clan kid, she’s v traditional, obvious cat and jon snow references

✢tw: implications of cheating, mentioned abuse, misogyny ig, fanfic gojo, ooc gojo

✢ a/n: here's part 2! i'd like to emphasize that depsite this being a gojo x reader fic, the main realationships i'll be focusing on are y/n and the kids gojo brings home lmao. also im raw dogging the lore as we go so if there are any inconsistencies, please lmk. as always, have fun and lmk what you think!

i don’t do taglists.

part one ✢ masterlist

If it were up to you, you would have shut the gates of the Gojo estate as soon as the child entered the grounds, but your husband had given him the the maids so quickly that you’re sure they have spread the word around already. You could hear the rumors in your head. Gojo Satoru has brought home a child out of wedlock. Gojo Y/N is barren. Gojo Satoru has a mistress.

You expected Gojo to be frantic, stumbling over his words in explanation as to why he has a son- it was his son, there was no doubt about that- reassuring you about his vows remain unbroken, or whatever else but silence. You are silent too as you watch the child get scurried away by the estate staff to scrub the dirt off his face and to get a change of clothes.

Even as he is being escorted away from you, his cursed energy did not fade. You feel it like how everyone feels Gojo’s, but more raw and untamed. Whoever this child is, it is Gojo Satoru reborn again. 

Silence. Silence is what took the Gojo estate into a chokehold as the maids finish bathing the child and then put him in a spare bedroom a good distance away from yours. The maids must think you resent him. 

Satoru pretends like everything is the same as if the boy had been there since the beginning. During the first night, you watch with a blank face as the cake you've baked for him is eaten by the child. Neither the boy nor Satoru expresses their gratitude towards you. You doubt they even know you baked it.

To his credit, Satoru had treated the child better than you had expected. He is blossoming into fatherhood, you realize and you feel the rage and anger burn in your stomach.

He pats the boy's head and messes his hair, before pointing to his own messy mane exclaiming, "See? We match!"

Satoru had tried to include you in conversations with the boy, even daring to seat him on his right at meals. Satoru would blab after seeing the child gobble mochi. "Mochi is Y/N's favorite too!" He turns to look at you with a bright smile. "Right, Y/N?"

You want to point out that the boy had gobbled everything served to him, but you just give a brief nod.

At night, you sleep like a log- rigid, straight, and quiet. Satoru, on the other hand, remains comfortable, snoozing the day's exhaustion behind him.

Tonight will be the same as it has been for the past few weeks. You stare at yourself in the mirror of your vanity, wondering if your reflection is the perfect example of a foolish woman. How stupid of you to think he was different.

There was nothing but quiet as you prepare yourself to sleep, brushing your hair quietly. You hear the door creak but you do not turn and greet him with a smile like you used to.

“I expected you to be more emotional about this,” came Satoru's words beside you. Me too, you want to reply but held your mouth shut.

You had expected yourself to scream, and let your anger flow through your voice. You wanted to cry until your tears were dry and there wasn't any left. Neither you nor Satoru would be surprised if you use your technique against him in a fit of fury, and if you truly knew your husband, you know he'd take your anger like it was penance. You want to be the fire that burns him badly. But you did none of those.

You are as cold as their blue eyes. You are quiet.

You continue to brush your hair.

"Do you want me to get rid of him?" offers Satoru. "Just say the word, and I will."

You blink in surprise. You meet his eyes in the mirror. Satoru looks nonchalant in his posture with his hands in his pockets. But the fact that his glasses were nowhere to be seen tells you he is not joking.

Your ears recall the promise he made months ago. My wife, my equal. A promise to try, to try to be happy to spite everyone who was determined to make your lives miserable. 

The sudden exhaustion hit you, your shoulders slumping from your previous postures. You lean back, letting your nape rest on the back of the chair. You stare at the ceiling, your head forbidding you to forget how the child looked like. White hair. Blue eyes. You hear Satoru sigh somewhere near you. You hear his footsteps come. From your peripheral, you see his figure beside you. A feather-like hesitant hand touches your shoulder. “I was not unfaithful to you.”

Satoru moves to kneel in front of your sitting figure. He reaches out to your head, and touches his forehead against yours. You find yourself looking up at his eyes, the same shade of eyes that he shares with the child. His hands cradle your face, desperate for you to believe him. “Please. Please, Y/N.”

You remain silent. 

“You’re the only one I have left, Y/N, please.” He begs. There are tears threatening to spill down to his pretty face, and you find some sick satisfaction in them.

That is not true. Your husband has his clan, his estate servants, his high school friends, and his teachers. It is you that has no one but him. By your culture’s traditions, you do not belong to your clan anymore. You know that some elders have begun to doubt their choice in choosing you as the wife of Gojo Satoru with the obvious lack of children, but with the sudden appearance of Gojo-sama’s bastard child, they might annul your marriage by force- or, god forbid, cast you aside for another, more fertile woman.

You do not wish to share your thoughts, but your husband grips your head so desperately. You have made a god beg.

“I know.” You say. The child may be young, but he was old enough to walk and talk small phrases on his own. He must be at least two years old. The child is older than your marriage.

His shoulders immediately drop in relief before quickly detangling himself from you and wrapping his arms around your waist. He slides his head to hide in your neck and like instinct, you welcome him wrapping your hands around his waist.

"Where would you leave him?" You manage to ask, still not believing his offer.

"The cabin," he says. You can see the cracks on your husband now. You spot his hand making a fist inside his pockets, like it pains him to speak. “The one by Nagasaki, remember? I’ll send a maid and give him money every month. We can send him right now. The maids will not say anything outside the estate, not if I threaten to chop their tongues off. We can send him off with a caretaker to a cabin somewhere and leave him there. I- I can visit him a few times a year- just to make sure he’s fine.”

You blink. You did not expect Satoru to offer that. You let the fantasy linger in your head. You imagine the boy’s life so far- abandoned by his mother and unknown by his father. Children do not understand things the way older people do, so it is up to the adults to help and explain certain things. But he has not had an adult in his life before. Would you be happy if you were left alone in the cabin in the middle of the woods with no one but a caretaker for company? Better yet- will the caretaker even stay to care for him without anyone around?

That sounds incredibly lonely, you realize. The premise sounds all too familiar to you- an empty house with no one but servants. But this boy will only get one.

He needs people to protect him, but you are unsure if you’d like to. Your instincts tell you to agree, get rid of the boy before he becomes more of a threat.

“Satoru,” you say slowly, thinking of your next words carefully. “He is just child. He is no danger to me.”

You hold your breath, suprised to hear the words out of your mouth. From your lap, Satoru holds your gaze- piercing eyes trying to read your mind. If he caught your lie he does not show it.

"Are you sure?"

No. "Yes."

-

Hiroki. Satoru had names him Gojo Hiroki.

He spends most of his days inside the estate surrounded by maids or inside his room playing with the toys you off-handedly ordered the day after he arrived. The maids gush about him already, the older ones excitedly murmuring how the little lord acts so much like your husband as a child. You would be a fool not to agree.

Hiroki runs barefoot through the estate, tracking mud on precious tatami floors before a servant finally catches him. He likes people, likes the maids and the servants, and thus has migrated to the kitchen a few weeks after his arrival like he was addicted to places were people are the most. He draws. He draws so much it’s almost ridiculous. You could have a library full of childish scribbles.

Like your husband, he devours his dessert the best before any dish. He eats mochi, ice cream, cookies and whatever sweets there are on the table like it was his last meal. You recall one of the maids gasp as a drop of cream lands on your cheek when he slammed his fork in his cake. 

Satoru is free in his affection for the boy, unexpectedly flourishing in fatherhood. He remains firm in his belief that children should be children and makes an effort to see Hiroki out. Satoru becomes known to sneak the child away from the estate to parks, to mini-vacations you begrudgingly join after Satoru’s incessant pestering. And of course- school. Hiroki made history once again when Satoru announced his decision to enroll Hiroki in a totally normal, public Japanese preschool.

You realize that Satoru was meant to be a father. And one good one at that. It brings you comfort that any children that he is at least good to his son after he confessed his plan to be a teacher after graduation.

Tokyo’s jujutsu highschool would be blessed with his presence, thought one of Satoru’s female seniors would disagree.

“Yo, Y/N-chan,” came a voice.

You twist your body over to the source of the voice, and your face lights up at the sight of a familiar face. “Getou-san!”

If Satoru's presence is an overwhelming force, making everyone and everything bow to him as if he is god, Getou is a dark, uneasy, slinking feeling. His cat-like features morph into a happy expression with a polite smile on his lips.

“Is there a mission today?” You ask as Getou comes nearer. Satoru would try his best to keep any of his classmates away from his estate, but there is nothing he can hide from Getou and Shoko. "Can I come?"

After you had let slip that you wanted to become a licensed sorcerer, Satoru had made it a habit to sneak you into some missions with Getou. You had fretted about the technical legalities and questioned the safety of the public when an inexperienced sorcerer like you enter the battlefield but Satoru merely shrugged and simply gestured to his best friend. We're the strongest!

Getou leans his shoulder on the wall. "Nope, not this one Y/N."

“I see,” you say, failing to hide your disappointment. Sometimes you wonder why you enjoy the missions so much. Was it the thrill of doing something you never would? Perhaps it was the freedom of it all, unleashing your power to poor curses who quiver beneath your feet?

Your ears perked at a familiar high pitched laugh, and your eyes immediately lock to the window where Hiroki soon runs across. He has dried soil on his feet. His pale hair is slicked back with sweat and it glistens against the sun like snow.

A maid forces a laugh in panic as she tries to catch him with his shoes on one hand.

Away from him. That’s why you enjoy it.

Getou follows your line of sight. “How is he?”

You glare at him. “How would I know?”

Everyone knows that Hiroki is a taboo topic if it’s within your earshot, lest they want the you in a foul mood. But Getou does not shy away from his question and only raises an eyebrow, calling your bluff.

“You’re telling me you do not know your own household?”

“The garden is his place,” you sigh., and admitting it felt like defeat. “He likes the grass on his feet and likes big spaces. He gets angsty when a room is too small.”

“Mmhm,” Getou agrees. “Did you know Satoru plans to enroll him in a daycare?”

Your eyes widen in horror. “In a- what?” You shriek. “He has a dozen of servants here willing to serve him-! Does he even realize the risk he’s putting the boy in? Assassins, curses, cursed users…” you trail off, remembering your own childhood. It was strange to be surrounded by servants but feeling so alone at the same time. “I see.” A daycare meant potential friends, friends that you never got to have. “Does…does the boy like it at least?”

“Me?” Getou barks out a surprised laugh. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

You glare at him. Getou meets your gaze unapologetically, almost as if he was challenging you. Finally, he sighs. “Have you ever talked to him at least?”

You roll your eyes. Your sharp tone echoes around the room. “And why would I do that? He is no concern to me.”

"He needs you."

"He does not need me," you snap, suddenly impatient for Satoru to come out of wherever he’s hiding so Getou and him can go. “He will resent me when he’s older, I know it.”

You have seen this same scene over and over again. Children and the wife of the husband do not get along. Both suffer at the existence of the other. This is the fate that Satoru had subjected you to. This is the fate you have set upon yourself when you refused to send him away. You wonder if your kindness will cost you one day.

“Well,” Getou shrugged nonchalantly. “You haven’t given him any reason to like you either.”

You opened your mouth to retort, only to be interrupted by Satoru.

“Getouu,” he whined, comically trudging towards his best friend with a hunched back. “Why are you so early?”

You see Getou open his mouth to reply, but you are lost in your head. You watch Getou ignore Satoru’s childish gimmicks, already dragging him out of the room and towards the door. You feel Satoru kiss your cheek before waving goodbye, but your head was in a daze mindlessly repeating Getou’s words. You feel shiver creep down your spine before shifting your gaze towards the garden where Hiroki’s presence was last.

-

thank you so much for reading guys! i’d love to hear all criticisms and suggestions for this universe <33 please lmk through comments :>

here’s my masterlist

[your-nanas-house]

An idea: Tommy has one of his recurring nightmares and YN decides to help him sleep by giving him a blowjob

Dunno who this anon is but I love this kind of ideas so much!! 🙇🏼‍♀️ So thank youuuu 🤗

Just another nightmare

◇ Pairing: Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, handjob, choking, Tommy is a whore here and a sub... so bit ooc!Thomas, nightmare and PTSD and bad writing.

◇ Summary: Tommy wakes up from a nightmare and Y/n helps him calm down.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

"Tommy... Tommy—" her soft tired voice called as her hand shook him awake, bringing him back to reality and out of Morpheus's arms so to escape one of his reccuring nightmares.

Thomas never really talked about them with Y/n, preferring to just ignore them or ponder in silence while lighting a cigarette, instead of wasting her time by keeping her up with past crude memories... even though she offered her ear him each time.

"I'm okay" his low voice grumbled out in a dismissing tone, his body still sweating probably in state of shock as it trembled softly, joined by his fast heartbeat.

He wasn't okay, not at all... his mind was playing twisted games on him again and the past was heavier than usual during the night.

And she knew... but there wasn't much she could do if he didn't allow her to enter his mind to try, so to understand the problem better. The young woman kind of lost her patience, adopting a different approach when something like that happened when she was around.

The questioning and the oral support wasn't accepted from Thomas usually... he searched a more physical one even when there was a bit of hesitation at the beginning. But that night... it didn't seem like he would have calmed down with just some cuddles.

Reason because Y/n decided to try with a different physical and oral help.

So her tender hand traveled from his sweaty chest down to his abs and lower before sneaking inside his underwear, earning a shaky breath from Tommy.

The poor man was still a bit under shock, his body sweating cold, his heart hammering against his chest as his jaw remained clenched. Y/n could see his muscles since the moon reflected its light on them in a lovely way, allowing her to start a path of wet kisses from there.

Her beautiful eyes remained closed as her hand lazily pulled slightly down the fabric so to ease the access. Feeling his pre-cum leak on her warm skin when she accidentally brushed his angry red tip.

"Shhhh, everything is okay, love. You are here... in bed with your wife" the young woman started as she pumped his now hard lenght, using her spit to lubricate the action

"At your house in Birmingham... safe and sound... it's just you and me, honey" she purred softly out attempting to calm him down while her hand kept working. Her free one slowly moved Tommy's sweaty palm towards her so that she could place a kiss on his knuckles before sneaking it in the neckline of her nightgown.

As if by reflex, his rough hand grabbed her left breast, kneading it flesh while he felt her heartbeat against his skin.

Her tactic was working, his body was reacting at her touch and his mind was turning off, letting lust take over him... making his heart still beat fast but not due to fear or adrenaline caused by something awful but because of her small hands working his cock.

The feeling was getting intense and Thomas' eyes shot open as he slowly approached his orgasm, his muscles tensed and his back slightly arched while his hand moved away the blanket so that his icy stare could watch his wife work her magic.

The man could see his dick throbbing thanks to the attention and the familiar pre-orgasm feeling was getting more and more noticable. He could feel her soft fingers giving some attention to his balls as well before black dots formed in his view, making him roll his eyes and arch his back even more.

A whoring moan escaped his lips while he shot his seed, dirtying her hand and the sheets. He never came that hard before.

He could hear a whistle in his ear that covered the background noises in the room but not the breathless and impressed curse that left his wife's mouth.

Thomas was about to say something when she shifted, now wide awake, shutting him with her warm tongue which began to clean up the mess he did.

"You should react at my touch like this more often, love" the young woman commented smugly, gagging when he thrusted up his hips with a fake annoyed expression, so that his cock would have shut her up and removed that shit eating grin off her face.

[mariahcarreyyy]

Hii!!! CONGRATULATIONS ON 2K! I love reading your work, it’s always amazing 💕

Do you think you could write something with this angst prompt “lashing out even though they know they will regret it” for Oscar ? And maybe he is the one lashing out?

# prompt no.7, lashing out even though they know they will regret it

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

Sometimes, Oscar wishes he could scream at everyone who calls him unbothered.

He wishes they could see him now, irritation coursing through his veins, mixing with his blood like water and oil; he wishes they could witness the dark cloud looming over his muscular frame, following him and more ever-present than his own shadow; he wishes they could cower at the sight of the scowl on his face, nose scrunched in distaste at all times.

The results of his race had been enough to send him over the edge. A less than satisfactory eighteenth, and it echoes bitterly in his head the entire race debreif.

Lando squeezes an encouraging hand on Oscar's shoulder as they both walk out of the papaya garage, and Oscar can't bring himself to do anything but send Lando a shaky smile.

A prolonged car ride, and a few hours later, the driver twists the doorknob of your shared flat. Oscar's shoulders visibly drop, leaving the remains of a bad race on the floor and letting his body (mind and soul) rest.

"Osc? Y'home?"

Your voice cuts through the silence, and Oscar wants to punch his own gut at how his jaw clenches at the sound. Relax, he reminds himself. But Oscar can't—he knows he can't.

Because the residual pounding in his head is making him wince; he's sweaty and shivering; he's famished and cannot bear the thought of food; he's put off by the sight of you before him and he wants to be cradled in your arms, too.

It's all too confusing for him. Oscar decides being angry would be easier, flow smoothly against his tongue. He almost forgoes his plan when his brown eyes meet your pity-laced ones.

"Hey, baby," you murmur, hesitantly reaching up to cup his cheeks. "I'm sorry, 'bou—"

Sweet nothings die in your throat when Oscar swerves away from your touch, wincing distastefully. Seemingly refusing to look at you, his eyes dart anywhere but the comfort of yours.

"I don't need you to baby me," Oscar grits out, his hips swaying to glide past you and the crestfallen look on your face.

"Oh," you bite the inside of your cheek, hands flailing helplessly to your side and watching him pad against the cold floors. "Okay, uh. There's pasta on the stove if you're hungry."

Oscar pinches his wrist. The thought of tangible pain seemed more comfortable than the guilt gnawing in his heart. Still, Oscar laments, you are too nice; I'm cruel now, and you shouldn't be this way towards me. He refrains from turning around when he hears you audibly exhale shakily.

"M'not hungry," he shouts again, slamming the door behind him without looking back.

Without looking at you.

authors note. i dont like this honestly i feel like its very ooc bcs i dont see osc lashing out a lot. i made him feel guilty idk if that helped. en e wayz enjoyy xx

[godlyrots]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

PAIRING — jason todd x fox!reader.

SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.

WORD COUNT — 1126.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing fox!reader. i've only seen the animal!reader thing the OBX fandom but since i haven't seen anyone ( to my knowledge ) do this for DC i wanted to try. i'll have different iterations of readers who'll have different personality types + aesthetics based on different animals/what i come up with for them. but they are people, not hybrids.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.

he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.

he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.

jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.

"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.

"m'sorry, doll"

"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.

he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.

"y'feel too good, baby."

he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.

you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.

"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.

your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.

"forgive me?"

you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.

"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"

there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."

you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.

"whatever."

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[reidsworld]

Beautiful Tragedy

Summary: Set in late 1800s London high society, Logan Howlett falls for a woman who is off limits, resulting in what can only be described as a beautiful tragedy. Based on this post by @shinyshayminflower

Paring: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: Heavy angst, forbidden love, arranged marriage, kinda ooc.

Word Count: 3.6k

Mars speaks… chat I cried while writing this. this turned out sm more AU like than I originally planned but we move. also reader ended up being british...

Part 2 | Masterlist

The grand estate your family owned was a sanctuary of opulence, yet it felt like a gilded cage. The late 1800s had bound you to a life of social expectations, where every decision was dictated by status and tradition. Amidst the grandeur of high society, you found solace in Logan Howlett— a man whose mutant abilities had kept him on the fringes of your world.

Logan, with his war-hardened past and retractable claws, was both an outsider and a confidant. Despite his loyalty and experience, his mutation made it impossible for him to be anything more than a distant companion.

Logan knew where he stood when it came to his place in society. He was more of a bodyguard than friend, someone to be kept at an arm's length yet close enough that it would be acceptable to use him as protection. That was how he met you, while in attendance at a ball hosted by your family, his sole purpose there was to act as a sort of security in case anyone came looking for trouble.

The lavish ballroom of the manor was alive with the clamour of high society. Chandeliers dripped with crystal droplets that cast a warm, shimmering light over the elegantly dressed guests. The air was thick with the fragrance of roses and lilacs, mingled with the faint scent of freshly polished wood and candle wax.

Logan stood near the entrance, his presence a stark contrast to the glittering splendour surrounding him. He was impeccably dressed in a dark suit, but his demeanour was understated, a professional reserve that set him apart from the guests. His role was clear: to remain unobtrusive, yet vigilant, a sentinel amidst the grandeur. His reputation as a skilled protector preceded him, but his mutant abilities were a closely guarded secret, known only to those who needed to know.

You, the lady of the evening, moved through the crowd with grace and composure. As the daughter of the host, you were the centre of attention, engaged in polite conversation and the ceremonial dance of high society. Your laughter was soft, your smiles carefully measured. Yet beneath the surface, there was a sense of confinement, a constraint imposed by the roles expected of you.

It was during one of these moments of enforced sociability that Logan first saw you. He had been scanning the room, his sharp eyes ever watchful for any signs of trouble. His gaze landed on you as you were approached by a particularly insistent suitor, whose eyes were filled with interest that seemed to linger a bit too long.

Logan’s instincts kicked in. He moved closer, positioning himself strategically within view but maintaining a respectful distance. He could sense the subtle shift in your demeanour, the polite but firm way you dismissed the suitor. It was a momentary flicker of discomfort, quickly masked by a practiced smile.

As the suitor finally retreated, you looked around, momentarily lost in thought. It was then that your eyes met Logan’s for the first time. The connection was brief but charged with an unspoken understanding. Logan’s gaze was steady and professional, but there was something more—an acknowledgment of the silent pressure you were under.

You excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to a quieter corner of the ballroom. Logan followed at a discreet distance, his curiosity piqued by the subtle display of restraint he had witnessed. It was clear that you were navigating a complex social minefield, and his role, though limited, allowed him a rare glimpse into your world.

“Do you need anything, Miss?” Logan’s voice was low, respectful, as he approached you in the secluded corner. His accent, thick and distinctly Canadian, cut through the formality of his tone, adding an unexpected warmth to his words. The question was more about offering a reprieve than an actual request for assistance. His tone was a gentle reminder of his presence, without overstepping the bounds of his role.

You looked up at him, surprised to find him so close. There was an air of authority about him, but it was tempered with a kindness that contrasted sharply with the stiffness of the evening’s festivities.

“Actually,” you replied, your voice soft but carrying a note of genuine curiosity, “I must say, I rather enjoy your accent. It’s quite refreshing to hear amidst all the clipped tones of London society.”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. “Thank you, Miss. I’ve been told it’s quite distinctive.”

“It is,” you said with a soft smile. “There’s something about it that’s rather charming. It makes you stand out, even in a room full of such grandeur.”

Logan’s gaze softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I suppose I’m not quite the typical guest at such events.”

“No, you’re not,” you agreed, “but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

There was a moment of silence, an unspoken connection forming between you. In that brief exchange, there was an understanding that transcended the formalities of the evening. Logan’s presence, though initially seen as a mere security detail, began to take on a different significance.

“I was merely taking a moment away from the crowd,” you say, as if you felt the need to explain your absence from being the lady of the party, the soft tone of your voice cut through the silence.

Logan nodded, respecting your need for space. “It’s quite a gatherin’ tonight. I’m sure it’s overwhelmin’.”

You smiled, a fleeting expression of relief crossing your features. “Yes, it is. The expectations can be quite… demanding.”

Logan’s gaze softened. “I understand. It’s my job to observe and protect, but I’ve seen enough of these gatherin’s to know that they come with their own set of obstacles.”

“And how do you find it, observing from the sidelines?”

Logan’s expression revealed a hint of a smile, though it was tinged with a touch of melancholy. “Sometimes, it’s a necessary role. It allows me to see things that others might miss. But it’s not without its own challenges.”

As the conversation drew to a close, you nodded to him, a gesture of gratitude and acknowledgment. “Thank you, Mr…?”

“Howlett, Logan Howlett.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Howlett. It’s nice to have someone who understands.”

Logan inclined his head, a respectful smile on his lips. “Anytime, Miss. If you need anythin’, I’ll be nearby.”

With that, you returned to the ballroom, the weight of the evening’s obligations settling back upon you. But as you moved through the crowd once more, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this brief, genuine interaction with Logan had introduced a new, albeit unexpected, layer to your world.

Logan, meanwhile, watched you from a distance, his thoughts a mix of admiration and cautious intrigue. The evening had begun with clear boundaries and roles, but this fleeting encounter hinted at the possibility of something more—something that could challenge the carefully constructed walls of society and expectation.

As the night wore on, both of you carried the memory of that brief exchange, a subtle acknowledgment of a connection that neither fully understood but both felt deeply. It was a moment of genuine interaction in a sea of pretence, and it marked the beginning of something new for the both of you.

The first signs of affection between you and Logan since that night were subtle, yet profound. Stolen glances, brief touches, and shared smiles were the only expressions of a deep and forbidden love. On cool, moonlit evenings, you would find secluded corners of the manor, where the walls could not judge and the moonlight could only witness.

The manor's gardens were hushed under the blanket of twilight, the moon casting a silvery glow over the manicured lawns and fragrant blooms. The night was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and carrying the scent of jasmine. You wandered along the winding paths, seeking refuge from the stifling constraints of the evening’s festivities.

Logan had noticed your retreat and, with the quiet grace of someone who understood the need for solitude, followed at a discreet distance. His presence was a comforting shadow against the moonlit landscape, his footsteps barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You found yourself drawn to a secluded alcove, a small, hidden corner of the garden where the ivy-clad walls and the canopy of ancient trees offered a cocoon of privacy. You leaned against the stone balustrade, the coolness of the marble seeping through your silk gloves. The moonlight danced on the surface of the small pond before you, creating a shimmering mosaic.

Moments later, Logan emerged from the shadows, his eyes finding yours with an intensity that made your heart quicken. He had shed the formal demeanour of the evening, his posture relaxed yet alert, as if he too needed this quiet moment to escape the expectations placed upon him.

“I hoped I’d find you here,” he said softly, his accent carrying a soothing cadence in the stillness of the night.

You turned to him, a smile touching your lips despite the knot of anxiety in your chest. “I needed a moment away from everything.”

Logan stepped closer, the space between you closing as he approached with deliberate care. His gaze was tender, his eyes reflecting the moonlight with a warmth that belied the cool night. “You seemed lost in thought earlier. Everythin’ alright?”

You nodded, though the flicker of sadness in your eyes spoke volumes. You wracked your brain, trying to find the best way to speak without hurting him. You knew what your father expected of you when it came to your future, the guilt gnawed on you as you spoke, “just… trying to navigate the expectations placed upon me.”

Logan’s hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver up your spine. The contact was brief but electric, a silent exchange of the emotions that words could not fully capture. He looked at you with a mixture of admiration and concern, his fingers lingering near yours.

“I wish there was something more I could do, darlin’” he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity.

You turned your hand to his, a gesture of both comfort and need. “Your presence alone means more than you know. It’s the only thing that feels real amidst all the pretence.”

Logan’s thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, his touch both reassuring and tender. “I wish things were different,” he murmured, his voice a hushed confession. “I wish I could be more than just a shadow in the background.”

A sigh escaped your lips, and you looked up at him with a mixture of longing and sorrow. “So do I. But the world is not as kind as we’d like it to be.”

In that moment, the air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken desires. Logan’s eyes searched yours, and you saw a vulnerability in him that matched your own. He took a deep breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the space between you.

“I don’t want to just be a shadow,” he said, his voice resolute but soft. “I want to be something real in your life.”

Your heart ached with the intensity of his words. You stepped closer, your free hand resting gently on his arm. “You are, Logan.”

He gave you a pointed look, “I want to be more than just some secret lover, I want to be able to shout from the rooftops that you're mine.”

You sighed with a heavy heart, “I know, I want that too. But we’re bound by the constraints of a world that doesn’t understand us, doesn’t understand you.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, his eyes heavy with emotion. “Then let this night be ours, if only for a moment. Let the world fade away and let us be here, together, beneath the moon.”

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. “Just for tonight.”

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with all the love and longing that had been building between you, a quiet declaration of the feelings that had grown in the shadows of the manor. It was a poignant symphony of love and yearning, each touch a silent plea for something that could never fully come to be.

As his lips lingered against yours, the sweetness of the moment was tinged with a sharp edge of guilt and sorrow. You had always known that this love was a fleeting dream, a delicate thread woven in the shadows of your constrained existence. The reality of what was to come loomed over you like a dark cloud, a future you could not escape but deeply resented. Each stolen moment with Logan was both a treasure and a torment, a painful reminder of what you had been forced to forsake. In the moonlit stillness, as you nestled against him, the weight of what was inevitable pressed heavily on your heart. You could feel the crushing burden of a future you could neither change nor fully embrace, and what you had with Logan was a beautiful tragedy.

As you pulled away, both of you breathed deeply, savouring the preciousness of the moment. Logan’s arms encircled you, holding you close against his chest. You rested your head against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

In the tranquillity of the moonlit garden, the world outside ceased to exist. For a brief, fleeting moment, there were no societal constraints, no expectations—just the two of you, lost in the gentle embrace of the night.

“I love you,” Logan whispered, his voice a soft rumble against your ear.

You closed your eyes, a tear rolling down your cheek, your heart swelling with both joy and sorrow at the words you wish you could say. “I know.”

“What if we could just leave?” Logan suggested one night, his voice a hopeful murmur against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Your heart ached at the thought, your gaze darkening with a mix of longing and despair. “Leave? Logan, it’s not that simple. They would hunt us down. There’s no place for us in the world beyond these walls.”

“But have you ever imagined it? What it would be like if we were free to be together?” he asked, his tone filled with quiet yearning.

“Every single day,” you whispered, your fingers finding his and intertwining with them. “But we both know it’s impossible. Society will never allow it. To them, I’m nothing more than property, meant to be traded to the wealthiest suitor. And you… they see you as a weapon—a beast, not a man.”

Logan’s expression darkened with hurt, and suddenly, he was on his feet, his hands ripping themselves away from yours. “Is that what you think too?” His voice was tight, raw with pain. “Do you see me as just some animal, only here to protect you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you froze, your breath catching in your throat. “No, Logan, I would never—”

“Then what am I to you?” he cut you off, his frustration bubbling over. “If we can’t run, if there’s no future for us, then why are we still pretending? Pretending that this is enough, that we’re not just stuck in a nightmare we can’t wake up from?”

His anger pierced through you, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words that could make him understand. “Logan, that’s not what I meant—”

“Not what you meant?” he echoed, his voice sharp. “Wasn’t it you who made me believe there was a chance? That if we just held on, we could make this work? Yet you never said you loved me, not once.”

Your breath hitched, tears spilling down your cheeks as you saw the anguish in his eyes. All you wanted was to reach out, to hold him, to promise that you would find a way to escape together. Logan’s heart ached with the urge to pull you into his arms, to tell you that everything would be okay—that you’d figure it out somehow. But he held himself back, his face a mask of cold indifference, waiting for you to break the unbearable silence.

“I can’t,” you choked out.

“Why not?” he demanded, his voice rising with desperation.

“You don’t understand,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “If I say it, it will only make things worse. It will only hurt you more.”

“Why? Why can’t you just tell me?” he pressed, his voice thick with emotion.

“Because I am to be married!” you finally shouted, the words tearing from your throat.

“What?” His voice was low and cold, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable.

“I am to be married…” The words came out as a broken whisper, heavy with the weight of inevitability. You wished with every fibre of your being that you could take them back, that you’d never had to see the way his expression shattered into something you’d never seen before—something you never wanted to see again.

He turned away from you, and you hated yourself for not trying harder, for not fighting to make him stay, for not finding a way to make him listen.

The grand hall was adorned with flowers, the scent of roses heavy in the air as guests murmured in hushed tones, awaiting the ceremony. You stood in a small room adjacent to the hall, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The white dress, elegant and intricate, felt like a shroud—a symbol of everything you were about to lose.

A soft knock echoed through the quiet room. Your heart leaped in your chest as Logan stepped inside, his face a mix of sorrow and determination. He looked out of place in the lavish surroundings, a reminder of the life you truly wanted but could never have. You had asked to see him, to explain, though you weren’t sure if anything you said could ever make this right.

“Logan…” you began, your voice breaking as you turned to face him.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice tight with emotion. “Don’t say it. I just needed to see you before…”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stepped closer, shaking your head. “You have to understand—this wasn’t my choice. I never wanted this, Logan. My father… he arranged it all. He would never have allowed us to be together.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Because of what I am,” he said bitterly, his eyes dark with pain. “Because society sees me as some kind of monster.”

You closed the distance between you, reaching out to take his hands in yours. “You’re not a monster, Logan. You’ve never been a monster to me. But the nature of your abilities… they see it as something monstrous, something that could never belong in my world. My father, society—they would never accept it, never accept us.”

Logan looked down at your joined hands, his expression torn between anger and heartbreak. “So this is it, then?” he asked quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re just going to let them take you away from me?”

Your breath hitched, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I don’t have a choice,” you whispered, the words feeling like daggers in your chest. “But I need you to know… I love you, Logan. I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And I’ll never stop loving you, no matter what happens.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, unspoken anguish. He pulled you into a fierce embrace, holding you as if he could somehow shield you from the world, from the fate that was tearing you apart. “I love you too,” he whispered against your hair, his voice thick with the pain of a thousand unspoken words.

You clung to him, the two of you standing there, lost in the moment, the weight of your impending separation hanging over you like a dark cloud. You knew that this was goodbye, that once you stepped out of that room, your life would be dreadfully bound to another, and the future you had dreamed of with Logan would be nothing more than a memory.

Logan slowly pulled away, his hands lingering on your shoulders as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “I’ll be waiting for you” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you tried to memorise every detail of his face, every line, every mark. “I’ll always carry you with me, Logan. In my heart.”

He gave you one last, lingering look before stepping back, the distance between you growing wider with every second. He opened the door and left without another word, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the silence.

You stood there, the emptiness overwhelming as you tried to steady your breathing, trying to prepare yourself for the life you were about to enter—a life without him.

As the music began to play in the hall, signalling the start of the ceremony, you took one last, deep breath, and whispered into the empty room, “I love you, Logan.”

Mars speaks... (again) pt.2 anyone?

[timetoletmyimaginationfly]

Little Flower

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, slight mention of cannibalism, NO smut. I tried not to make him too OOC. To me, Sukuna is 100% a dark romantic morally black dude. But I’m not that type of writer. He’s more morally grey here.

Song: Fear by Current Joys

“Fuck. Wake up. Brat…open your eyes!” And slowly you did. You fought the urge to keep the close, your eyelids half closed as you stared at the King of Curses. It was your first time seeing him like this.

Vulnerable. Scared. Broken.

“S-Sukuna…”

“I’m going to kill them,” Sukuna said, his grip slightly tightening around you. And you nodded.

Sukuna’s concubines. Former concubines. Those who felt ignored and jealous. Those who felt hatred towards you because Sukuna favored you and only you. You haven’t noticed before, but one day, Sukuna called you his Queen. It was all you needed to hear to confirm his own feelings for you. You’ve bothered him with ‘I love you’s’ and Sukuna would smile, his eyes softening at you before poking your forehead in response.

“N-Not Shoko-chan or U-Utahime-chan,” you said. And he nodded.

“I promise.”

“I love you.” Again, his grip tightened.

“I promise that I’m going to wait for you,” Sukuna said softly. “I promise to find you in your next life. You’ll wear the necklace I gave you. And I’ll win you back. Maybe, just maybe, this immortal life I live can be broken. And I can live and die with you.”

“Th-they s-s-say l-love is a-a curse,” you said. Sukuna nodded.

“Have a curse destroy a curse.”

“S-Sukuna…” a tear slipped out from the corner of your eye. Sukuna softly kissed it away and shushed you.

“I love you, too.” He felt it. Nothing. He felt nothing within your soul. He let a tear escape his eyes. “Rest easy, little flower. My Queen.”

The moment Jogo burnt to a crisp and he defeated Mahoraga, the evil laugh and smile left his face. Uraume, who appeared to greet his master, followed his gaze. Along with Sukuna, Uraume’s eyes widened.

“Is that—“.

“Little flower…” But you were different. The expression on your face wasn’t as gentle nor innocent like before. Instead of tending to flowers, your hands held katanas. Instead of a white kimono that he loved seeing you wear, you wore fitted clothing that hugged your body. Your typical hair that he loves seeing flow past your shoulders was tied up in a high ponytail.

“Sukuna!!” you yelled angrily as you ran to him to strike him. And you knew that the King of Cursed was stronger, way stronger than you could ever imagine. You weren’t at Gojo Satoru’s level. You’re evenly matched with Nanami Kento. He had the power and you had the brains. It didn’t surprise you that Sukuna stopped you. But what surprised you was the way he looked at you. Eyes so soft as if he recognized you.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. Your eyes widened. You watched his eyes trail your body, until it stopped towards your chest where your necklace laid. “You have it.” His hand reached out to your necklace, but you quickly jumped back, leaving a distance between you two.

“What do we do, My Lord?” Uraume asked.

“Nothing,” he answered, his eyes lingering on you. “Make sure she’s not unhappy, Uraume.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Itadori-kun! Wake up!” you yelled. Sukuna froze. The body he took over. The body he mentally tortured as he killed thousands of civilians.

“A thousand years,” he said. “It took a thousand years to see you again.” His statement made you falter, but you quickly gained back your composure. Even your eyes never left his. “And you can’t remember me.”

“My lord.”

“She’s on the other side,” he said, his hands being stuffed in his pockets. “I can’t disappoint my Queen.” You gasped. You watched Sukuna go down on his knees, eyes still on you. You watched Uraume do the same. And the two of them deeply bowed.

“My Queen,” they both said. That was when you stood up and looked at them. They remained in their spot, bodies still bowed down deeply to you.

“Quit playing games,” you said as you slowly made your way towards them. The moment you stood close in front of the two, they both lifted their heads up. Sukuna slowly stood up on his feet. Uraume followed.

“My Queen,” he said again. He didn’t move. He didn’t reach out to caress your hair or face like he usually did.

“My Lady,” Uraume said, bowing his head yet again.

“Stop,” you said and took a step back while shaking your head. “I’m not your queen or lady, or whatever.” He suddenly felt everything. The confusion, the fear, and the heartbreak. And something else he didn’t want to decipher.

“You like someone,” he said.

“So?” you questioned. A small yet soft smirk formed on his face.

“Is he hurt? Give me the name. I’ll kill the one who hurt him.” You quietly gasped, your eyes wide.

Anyone around the area watched with wide eyes. For the first time, they watched and witness the King of Curses submit to someone. Because a thousand years ago, you were the only one he would submit to. The only one he took orders from. The only one he would listen to.

The trance stopped when others went in to attack. You joined in and Sukuna dodged as he jumped away from everyone.

“Give Yuji back, Sukuna,” you ordered. Sukuna looked at you again. His hand slightly raised up. You watched the soft glow in his hands and watched it move towards you. It disappeared once it was in front and you watched as the eyes and tattoos on Yuji disappeared.

“What was that?” Kusakabe questioned with so much confusion. You sat there, elbows resting on your lap, your fingers interlocked while your chin rested on the top of your hands.

“It’s interesting,” Panda mentioned. But you ignored them, thinking about the situation at hand. Your hand moved to the necklace, the grip on the pendant tight. You gasped, a quick flash of a memory appearing in your mind. The back of a woman in a white kimono, standing outside in a beautiful garden.

“What the…” You muttered. Immediately, you stood up.

“You need to stay, Y/N-san,” Kusakabe said. “We can’t risk any losses.”

“Then don’t follow me,” you said as you continued to walk away. The two just watched until your figure disappeared.

You walked back out into the destruction of Shibuya. You ran and ran, reaching your way back to the station. You saw a sudden vision again. Familiar blonde hair. Body half burnt. Walking in exhaustion.

No.

You ran and ran, sprinted while your lungs hurt.

Kento.

You found your way inside, running inside the tunnels. You quickly and easily fought your way through transfigured creatures on your way.

Another vision appeared. It was the same one. More of him. But this time, he was fighting. And now, you used up all of your energy to run faster and faster. Your heart raced with fear while tears were blurring your vision and fighting their way out. You noticed a familiar figure. And you could only hope that it was the right person.

“Itadori-kun! Hurry! Kento!” you yelled when you recognized him about to run as well.

“Sensei! What’s wrong?” Yuji asked curiously.

“I-I don’t know. We need to hurry,” you said, your voice breaking. When you turned to look at Yuji, your eyes widened the moment you saw two lower eyes, all four of them crimson red with black tattoos on his face. The lower eye looked at you. The type of softness you never would’ve thought you would receive from. “S-Sukuna.” But he didn’t reply and ran with you.

You were out of breath. You found Mahito in front of Nanami. The evil and merciless smile Mahito had gave you chills down your spine. When Nanami turned around, a small smile appeared on his lips. You felt a sting in your heart.

“Kento…”

Before you know it, Mahito was far away and smashed against the wall. Both yours and Nanami’s eyes widened. The tension in the air grew. You watched as Mahito cried in fear before he burnt into a crisp. You quickly ran to Nanami as he fell to his knees.

“Kento,” you called softly. Nanami looked at you with a tired smile. “You’re okay.”

“Sort of,” he answered, his hand slowly reaching and holding yours. “Glad to see you’re okay.” You let the tears escape. But you quickly turned around when footsteps walked closer to you. You stood up, standing in front of Nanami, your hands on the handles of your katanas, and ready to fight.

“You like him,” Sukuna said. You stared at him again. Your head slightly tilted in curiosity.

“B-Be careful,” Nanami said softly, his sight never leaving Sukuna. You nodded.

“What a shame,” Sukuna added. “If I killed him, would it hurt you?” Your grip tightened.

“Y-Yes,” you answered as strongly as you could. The thought of Nanami being killed right before your eyes killed you.

“If I inhabited his body to keep him alive, would it hurt you?” Your eyes widened.

“I-Is he—“

“No. Just a thought, little flower.” Your body stilled at the nickname Sukuna called you. Sukuna raised an eyebrow. You stared blankly at the man. Another vision. This time with Sukuna in his true form from his four arms and his taller height. Your body faltered and Sukuna almost took strides to catch you.

“What did you do to me?!” you yelled, trying to fight the visions away. “That glowing thing… what was that?!” Sukuna never faltered, but you caught the concern in his eyes. “Why? Why me?”

“Little flower…”

“Please…it—it’s too much,” you said as you shook your head, wanting to shake the visions away while your tears were flowing down your cheeks. The tears broke him. He walked quickly towards you, but Nanami was quicker as he held you in his arms. It angered Sukuna. You watched the crease of his brows and the scowl on his face. You feel the anger from the thick tension of the air. The urge for him to kill. “Please don’t hurt him.” The pleading voice made him soft. Oh how he used to hate that it made him soft. But it did and it still does.

“I won’t,” he said as he took a step back. He went down on one knee, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me what to do, little flower. Let me help you with your mission.”

“W-What—“

“What game are you playing?” Nanami asked. He leaned against you. Exhaustion was quickly hitting him. Sukuna’s gaze hardened when it moved to Nanami. He scowled at him.

“You don’t question me,” Sukuna said darkly before looking at you again. And you watched him soften. “I only serve you, little flower.”

“But why?” you asked. This time, you were curious. Your eyes widened, your hand reaching for your necklace. “This necklace. What do you know about it? You have to know.”

“I do know,” he answered. “A necklace from my time from a thousand years ago. A necklace I created. Just for you.” It shocked you and Nanami.

“A thousand years…a thousand years to see me again?” Sukuna nodded. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“People become reincarnated throughout life,” Sukuna explained. He was patient, oh so very patient. You wouldn’t be able to tell that he was a murderous monster. “I see it all the time, but it was never you. I could never feel your soul. And I didn’t want to believe it, until now. Until I saw you.”

“But…but you—legends say that—“

“I love power. I kill for a living. I consume so much hatred and could careless for every human around. I could careless about this boy I inhabit and that man holding you. But you…”.

“Me?” But Sukuna closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened them, this time you were out of Nanami’s hold as you stood in front of him. “Kento, you should go to Shoko-chan.”

“No, I’m not—“

“Go.” But you never heard him leave. Sukuna stood up, his deathly stare lingers on Nanami. “I’ll be fine.” Both Nanami and Sukuna knew that tone. Nanami wouldn’t win it. You would’ve dragged him to Shoko and return back to Sukuna. But he was stubborn as well.

“I’m not leaving you alone with him,” Nanami said.

“And I’m not letting you die.” Sukuna smirked.

“Best you listen to her. But I won’t do anything to her nor you,” Sukuna said.

“No.”

Sukuna grew impatient. He was glad that Nanami was too weak to fight. He took the opportunity to hold on to the both of you, bringing Nanami to Shoko and bringing you somewhere. Alone.

“Y/N!” Nanami yelled.

Sukuna gently put you down. You walked over to a tree to lean your back against the trunk. You watched Sukuna standing there, staring at you yet again.

“Quit staring,” you said as you looked away. “It’s creepy.” Sukuna smirked, a small chuckle escaping his lips. The pink color forming on your cheeks brought the same amusement back to him.

“You never thought it was creepy before,” he mentioned. “In fact, you loved that I did. You loved the fact that I always keep an eye on you.” He watched the bottom of your lip, jutting out into a small pout.

“This reincarnation thing, how is it true?” you asked. “Don’t people remember stuff or have like deja vu happen to them?”

“Not always, little flower,” Sukuna answered. “It’s things I see. Things I recognized.”

“But…you’re a curse now. And…shit, y-you were one back then.”

“And you’re still a curious human.” You glared at him, making him chuckle yet again. “What a shame that you have no memories from before. More of a shame that you have to side with the ones I hate the most.”

“Then kill me,” you said with confidence. But it made him frown, adding more to your frustrations. “Why won’t you?!”

“I watched you die in my arms once! I’m not doing that again!” Your eyes widened. You felt your heart skip a beat. “You…You—fucking shit!” You stood there still and watched him with worry. “Shut up, boy!” Your eyes widened.

“Itadori-kun…”

“The fuck do you know?” It was like watching a madman talking and cursing to himself. You watched him talk and pace angrily, assuming it was at Yuji. “I fucking hate humans and their stupid fucking feelings. Their emotions. Everything! But—“ Sukuna looked at you. The anger immediately gone, replaced with something soft and tender. It made your heart race.

“Sukuna.” It was the softness in your voice that made him crack. You watched a small tear slip out from the corner of his eye.

“You were so innocent and full of life. You kept to yourself. You always smiled and laughed. We were the complete opposite. You were the type of human I hated. I hated it so much that I wanted to kill you but I fell in love with you” Sukuna confessed. “The moment I felt your sadness, I’ll kill those who caused you that. Those that brought you pain and anger. I would do anything to hear your voice and laugh, see your smile, watch you tend to your garden, and just to be with you. And you loved it too. That’s why you’re the only one I listen to. I submit only to you. My one and only Queen. So, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. You want me to rebuild that goddamn city. I’ll fucking do it. Need me to heal those human friends of yours. I’ll do it. I’ll even—“.

“Are you a part of this whole scheme?” you asked.

“No. I had other things in mind.”

“Then stop this. Stop whoever is doing it,” you said.

“Your wish is my command, little flower.”

“I want you to heal my allies as well. Even Kento.”

“What else?”

“Make sure Yuji comes back. Stop tormenting him, please.”

“Okay.” Sukuna walked closer to you. He gently reached out to your face, fingers gently cupping your chin to look at him. “I’m still keeping my promise to you, somehow.”

“P-Promise?” He nodded.

“And when I fulfill it, we’ll live our lives how we were supposed to live a thousand years ago.”

“How? You’re a curse, unleashed through cursed tools.”

“If there’s a will, there a way.” You pulled away, eyebrows furrowed, and crossed your arms against your chest.

“I don’t want you using Itadori-kun’s body afterwards. In fact, I don’t want you to use anyone’s body as a vessel,” you said. His eyes squinted in slight annoyance.

“You always have to make things difficult, my little flower,” he replied.

“If you’re that determined to have me, so be it,” you said. Sukuna smirked.

“Challenge accepted. I always get my way. And when I win you back, you’ll see how much of an importance you are to me, even if you don’t see it now.”

“Little flower…”

You turned around. Tears rolled down your cheeks. The sunlight reflecting the water in your eyes made Sukuna’s heart clench. He walked closer and closer, lifting your chin up to face him.

“M-My lord…”

“I told you, address me by my name. You are my Queen after all, little flower,” Sukuna said. “Now…who the fuck hurt you?”

“Why do you give me special treatment? Why do you consider me as your queen?” His eyes squinted. Slight irritation from you for not answering his question directly. But he can feel it. The confusion and hurt in your delicate soul.

“Because you’re the only one I can tolerate,” he answered. “For some reason, I let you talk back to me, order me around, and question me. Did I hate it? Yes. I wanted to kill you. But you stop me from doing so.”

“But why? A lot of women here are better than me. Prettier. More confident. They don’t like me cause they find me replaceable.”

“Tell me who. I will kill those who defy you.”

Your eyes opened. You quickly shot up, the shock in your dream waking you up. You looked around. You found yourself in the school where Shoko heals the students. A soft chuckle perked your ears, and you turned around to find Shoko healing a student.

“We were worried,” she said. “You haven’t woken up for a little over a week.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Sukuna brought you back to us,” Shoko answered.

“H-How’s everyone? Where’s Satoru? And what happened to Kenjaku? Shibuya? Itadori-kun?”

“Hold on. So much happened that we were all confused about,” Shoko said.

It didn’t take long. You and Shoko sat down together alone in her infirmary, and soon after, Gojo entered the premises. The three of you sat down together.

“I don’t know what you have going on with Sukuna,” Gojo started, “but he’s the reason why this whole fight in Shibuya is over.” Your eyes widened.

“Wait. Where’s Kento?” you asked as he suddenly appeared in your thoughts.

Hospital,” Shoko answered. “But he’s okay so far.” Your shoulders relaxed. But the mention of Sukuna somewhat made you nervous. You didn’t know yourself. The visions and dream of him appearing.

“I just remember seeing Sukuna when he unsealed me from the box,” Gojo said. “And everything was over.”

“He brought you back to us first, but you were unconscious,” Shoko said. “No injuries, nothing. But we watched Sukuna fight Kenjaku. He killed him, so Kenjaku is gone. And we watched him with caution as he was healing everyone. Watched as he helped rebuild the city until Itadori-kun returned back to his body. Or Sukuna let him return.”

“W-What? H-He didn’t say anything afterwards?” you asked. Gojo shook his head but Shoko nodded.

“That he hopes that you’re happy that he fulfilled your wishes,” Shoko answered.

“Is he still in Itadori-kun’s body?” Shoko and Gojo nodded.

“And he’s been a bit distant since then,” Gojo mentioned.

“Where is he now?” you asked.

“In his dorm,” Gojo answered.

“I have to find him.”

You quickly headed out. You squinted the moment you were outside from the bright sun. You walked swiftly towards the dormitory in the campus. By the time you arrived by Yuji’s door, you took a deep breath. Your knuckles raised up to the door to knock, but the door swiftly opened, revealing Yuji with a bright smile on your face.

“Sensei! You’re awake!” he said cheerfully. “Come in!”

“Thank you, Itadori-kun,” you said and walked inside. You pulled a chair out and sat down. You watched the young boy sit on his bed, crossed legged, and looked at you. “How are you? I heard you’ve been…distant.”

“Just taking everything all in,” he answered truthfully. “Sensei, what Sukuna said. Is it true?” Your eyes lowered to your lap.

“I don’t know,” you answered. “B-But it has to. He could’ve killed us all.”

“He’s a part of me, sensei. He tries to fight it so I don’t know how he’s feeling but, it’s the first time I felt so much from him. It was strange and I don’t understand it.”

“Can you describe it?” Yuji placed a hand on his chest. A soft smile was forming on his face.

“Overwhelming,” he said. “His heart races and I know when he could care less and is angry and well, downright evil. But the moment he looks at you, I feel something fluttering. And, well, it’s pretty cute.”

“Cute?!” Yuji lightly laughed.

“It’s cute feeling how the King of Curses feel from his typical evil self. It’s like…there’s just something human in him for sure. And if I can, I would like for him to become one.” Your expression soften.

“You’re a kind boy, Itadori-kun,” you said softly and wholeheartedly.

“Everyone deserves a chance in life, right?”

“Right.” You watched Yuji’s expression slightly change into something curious.

“Yeah…you really like her. I can’t shut up about it. I never get to feel things like this. Why don’t you just take over? Oh. I see. Well, do you have any ideas?”

“Itadori-kun, was that him?” Yuji nodded.

“The glowy thing he did, he wants you to remember. Eh? What do you mean I wasn’t supposed to tell her?” You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, if you kill me, my sensei will be upset. You’re whipped, Sukuna.”

Inside, Sukuna was cursing at the young boy. And it only made him more mad the moment Yuji chuckled.

I wanna kill this brat.

“Itadori-kun, make sure Sukuna stays in good control for me. He better stop cursing at you,” you said.

This fucking woman. I can’t deny her wishes.

“He can’t deny your wishes, Sensei.”

You sat alone in your home. You pulled the necklace over your head, the pendant resting on your hand. You remember buying it at a thrift store. An ancient looking relic that you never thought would catch your interest. You remember gravitating towards it. You remember the strong feeling inside you as you held it in your hands.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you mumbled. You tightly gripped the pendant and closed your eyes. You channel your cursed energy to the pendant, focusing on it and on Sukuna.

“You’re new,” Sukuna said. You found yourself in a large estate. You wore a white kimono and your hair was out of its usual ponytail. You bowed deeply to Sukuna who stood in front of you.

“My lord,” you said.

“Come.”

You felt time passing. You heard murmurs from other women. Other women you recognized that Sukuna would spend time with. You found yourself walking in the empty hallways until you reached two large dark doors. You didn’t knock. Instead, you slowly placed your hand on the handle to open the door. As you did, the other door opened swiftly. On the other side was Sukuna. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. Your eyes slowly widened and you placed your arms by your side and bowed.

“My lord,” you said softly. “I want some company in the gardens.” A small request for his time and a request Sukuna slowly always accepted. You looked up to find soft, red crimson eyes meeting yours. In response, Sukuna walked out of his room, closing the doors behind you, and taking your hand in his.

“What’s bothering you, little flower?” he asked. “I can feel your soul trembling.”

“Do you still sleep with the other women in your estate?” you asked. “They all complain for having less time with you.” A small chuckle escaped Sukuna’s lips. You looked at him with curiosity, the soft breeze blowing your hair. Sukuna turned to you, his m right arm tucking the strands of hair behind your ear.

“It lessened sometime after our first night together,” Sukuna answered. “And now, I don’t.”

“Why’s that? They all miss you.” His chuckle made your heart race.

“Are you that naive?”

“I just like direct answers.”

“Tsk. You always do,” Sukuna said. And then, he was silent. But you heard him stand up from the bench. You listened to him walk behind you. And before you know it, you felt something cool around your neck.

“Don’t lose it,” Sukuna said. “It was made specifically for you and you only. Okay?” You started at the engraved pendant with admiration. Sukuna watched a smile from on your lips.

“Of course, Sukuna.” You looked at him and you watched a smirk form on his face.

“You’re lucky I like you enough to call me by my name.”

“Of course I am. I am your special lady, am I not?” His smirk widened.

“It’s why I keep you around, little flower.”

You opened your eyes. Everything you saw was overwhelming. You felt tears fall from your eyes. The grip on the pendant tightened more as you brought it close to your chest. Instead of the fluttering feeling you had during the vision, you felt the pain develop more and more.

“Sukuna…”

“Sukuna, I sense that you’re hungry,” you said. “I know a few people who’s been being a little naughty today.” His arms were crossed as he stared out blankly in front of him. Your smile dropped when he didn’t respond. You took a seat next to him, slowly scooting yourself closer to him. “You haven’t eaten.”

“I haven’t,” he replied, doing his best not to burst out in anger.

“You haven’t killed anyone in a while, huh?” He shook his head, his grip tightening on his arms. “Why not?”

“It displeases you.” You can feel your heart race, butterflies roaming in your stomach.

“Just…just don’t have me see, smell, or hear it,” you said softly as you shyly looked away.

“I’ll have Uraume take you out today. Maybe have two of your friends with you as well. You’ve been in the estate for too long.”

Your body was shaking. You wanted to stop but you had to see more.

“Little flower. You’re not at the garden tonight.” You turned around and found Sukuna walking closer to you. You smiled softly at his presence. You stood up and met him halfway, your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“I was waiting for you, my King,” you said. “Uraume-san said that you were returning tonight.” You caught the small smile form on his lips.

“Let’s go.”

He sat on the dewy grass, pulling you up on to his lap. His lower arms supported his weight as he leaned back while the upper two held you close to him while your back leaned against his chest.

“I’m coming with you next time on your missions,” you said with a small pout.

“You’ll hate it.”

“Yeah but I hate it more without you here. Despite the killings you do, I rather be around with that than be alone.”You felt the soft vibration of his chest as he chuckled.

“As you wish, my Queen.” You felt your body relaxed, snuggling closer to his body. You closed your eyes and sighed in content.

“I love you, Sukuna.” He felt you fall asleep. His one arm caresses your hair before he leaned in and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

It was different. It really felt like you were there. The eerie silence in the estate and the way you cautiously walked around to get to the gardens to clean. Shoko and Utahime were out with Uraume to buy more food at the market. You wanted to stay behind and clean out the garden.

You gasped loudly and before you could yell, your mouth was covered. You opened your eyes to see all the concubines surrounding you. They were angry. They didn’t say anything. All they did was attack you. Hurt you until you could barely breathe and keep your eyes open.

You remember the feeling of his arms. The tightening grip, scared for you to go. You remember the first time you saw the fear in his eyes. The water forming in them. His body trembled. Anger, pain, and anguish increasing every second.

“I love you.” Again, his grip tightened.

“I promise that I’m going to wait for you,” Sukuna said softly. “I promise to find you in your next life. You’ll wear the necklace I gave you. And I’ll win you back. Maybe, just maybe, this immortal life I live can be broken. And I can live and die with you.”

“Th-they s-s-say l-love is a-a curse,” you said. Sukuna nodded.

“Have a curse destroy a curse.”

“S-Sukuna…” a tear slipped out from the corner of your eye. Sukuna softly kissed it away and shushed you.

“I love you, too.”

“Reincarnation…” you said to yourself. You shook your head. “But how?” Your hand remained by your chest. The pain was too much and it wouldn’t go away. You shook your head, letting heartbreaking tears escape. You brought your knees up to your chest and buried your face in yours knees. “What the fuck…?”

And then you thought about Nanami. The walking green flag of a man. The one who always make sure that you’re okay and helps you out on missions, whether you were alone or with the students. You knew he had some feelings towards you and you a well for him. And in general, he’s a protective man to his friends and students. It didn’t matter how much Gojo annoyed him, Nanami would be there to help and protect him.

“Maybe he’s awake.”

You scrambled yourself out of bed. You headed to the bedroom to take a quick shower and change into a long sleeve dress, warm tights, knee high boots, and a sweater. You grabbed your purse with your phone and wallet before heading out. You lived close to Shibuya. And you were amazed how the area looked like nothing happened on Halloween day. And it amazes you more that there were just as many people.

Did he—-no he didn’t. I never asked.

You made your way to Nanami’s room. You heard voices fill the room. When you peeked inside, you found Gojo, Shoko, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Ino. You knocked on the door, gathering their attention, before entering inside. You watched the soft smile form on Nanami’s face as you greeted everyone.

“I could’ve just gone with you guys,” you said as you put your purse on the table. You looked at Nanami and smiled. “I’m glad you’re okay. Almost as if nothing happened.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised as well,” Nanami said. His voice was gentle yet with his response, it felt stern and suspicious. “I heard you just woke up.” You blushed.

“Y-Yeah,” you answered as you brushed the ends of your hair with your fingers. “I figured I check up on you.”

“You should be resting.”

“I feel fine.”

“Well, we should go,” Gojo said. “Let’s go kids.”

“Bye, sensei!”

“See you later, guys.”

The five of them left, leaving the two of you alone. You moved an empty chair closer to Nanami’s bed and sat down. The silence felt somewhat awkward.

“A-About that night,” you said. “T-There’s a lot to talk about.”

“There is.”

“I don’t want you to be mad and—“

“I’m not mad,” he said. “If Sukuna wanted, he would’ve killed us on the spot. Even if I wasn’t injured and tired, it would be easy for him to kill us.” You nodded. “So, you tell me because you apparently know him.”

“Earlier, the reincarnation thing he talked about,” you said. “Maybe I am a reincarnation of the woman he loves. I’ve been having dreams and visions. I’m in them. All of them, Kento. All of them with Sukuna. And in them, he’s isn’t what we learned he is. As if he’s a human and not a curse nor a demon.”

“You’re taking a liking to him,” Nanami said. Your eyes were wide and Nanami chuckled softly. “I do like you a lot, but if the version of you now have some feelings towards him, I’m not stopping something that’s meant to be.”

“I—“. You shyly looked away. “What can we do?”

“I don’t know. I know Itadori-kun would love to give him a chance of becoming a human. However, I don’t know how to even start with that,” Nanami said. “I would say he’s putting up an act, but he’s so strong that he doesn’t have to do all of that.”

“The man has no patience,” you said. You crossed your legs and arms, irritably looking away. “Always so demanding, I had to put him in his place. You know, back then, he immediately beheads those that just even question him. He almost did it to me. I questioned his request and it was the first time I’ve seen him so angry. But even angrier when he stopped himself from…killing…me.” You slowed down when you finally realized that you were talking about the past. You blushed and looked at Nanami. “Kento, it’s—“

“Don’t fight it, Y/N. He cares for you and you care for him. You want to give him a chance because deep down, you being a reincarnation, you still love him too. You’re just not how you are back then. How were you back then?”

“Quiet, more submissive, more emotional. I hated violence to the point Sukuna starved himself from humans because he knows that I hate it when he does that. I had to go out to town with Uraume-san when he does that. Sukuna and I are polar opposites but we compromise well.”

“You’re not quiet,” Nanami said. “You’re pretty stubborn and you don’t let your emotions get to you. And yet, Sukuna is still determined for you. Look, it’s against every rule of sorcery to do this, but I will help. Once I’m discharged, I’ll help Itadori-kun free him.” Your eyes widened and sudden tears formed in your eyes.

“I owe you so much, Kento,” you said. Nanami smiled, his hand reaching to your hand and rest on top of it.

“Anything for you to be happy. You’re one of my best friends,” he confessed.

“You know what, whenever you’re ready for the dating game, I’m your wingwoman.” Nanami chuckled.

“I’ll keep that in mind. It be better than Gojo-san being my wingman. He gets over the top with things.” You laughed and nodded.

It was now December. You watched as small snowflakes slowly fell from the sky. You were at the school, busy with paperwork that you ended being behind on. As you wrote on one hand, your other held on to the pendant tightly. You felt something, something strange every time you held it. The only thing bringing you back to reality was the soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” you replied. You watched as Shoko and Utahime entered inside. Your smiled brightened. “Here to visit, Utahime-chan?”

“Of course,” she answered. “I haven’t seen you guys since the incident.”

“Shoko-chan, did Kento and Itadori-kun return from their mission yet?” you asked.

“Not yet but Gojo did tell me that they should return back in a few days,” Shoko answered.

“What are they doing?” Utahime asked. You and Shoko shrugged your shoulders.

“You two here to help me escape from paperwork?” you asked.

“Duh! I’m more important than the paperwork,” Utahime answered with a wink. You laughed, placing the files back in a folder before grabbing your things. “I heard of this new Bistro that opened. Let’s check it out.”

The three of you chatted, even when the food arrived. You’ve caught Utahime with everything that’s been happening after the incident: Sukuna, the necklace, and reincarnation.

“So, we’re your reincarnated friends,” Utahime stated. You nodded. “I’ve read a lot on it. It’s an interesting topic. Especially with family members when they think another generation of a child is a reincarnated version from someone in the past.”

“So, you believe in it?” you asked curiously.

“I actually do. What Sukuna said can be true. He may be an evil curse, but I believe he’ll always state the truth. He loves to be right.”

“It could be like that red string of fate tale, too,” Shoko mentioned. “It’s those type of love stories I tend to hear about every now and then.”

“Look, if you got him wrap around your finger, you better make sure he doesn’t kill us,” Utahime said, her finger wagging up in the air. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“He didn’t in the last life, that I believe,” you said. “Now, we need to find a girl for Kento.”

“What kind of girls does he like?” Utahime asked. You shrugged.

“Someone similar to you,” Shoko said. “Maybe more stubborn.”

“Who’s more stubborn than her?”

“Hey!”

“What? It’s true!”

“Not completely! Maybe he needs someone quiet.”

“Clumsy.”

“Dependent!”

“No independent!”

“I have someone in mind.” The three of you jumped and looked up to find Gojo.

“Such a stalker,” Utahime said as she rolled her eyes.

“What? I heard you’re in the city! How can I not be here to bask in your presence?!” With Utahime’s bickering with Gojo, you quietly gasped. You noticed Shoko look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?” Shoko asked, giving Gojo and Utahime your attention. Your hand reached to your pendant.

“I felt something,” you said.

“Sukuna?” Gojo asked. You nodded.

“But, I don’t know how to describe it. It’s…strong.”

You arrived straight home after your outing with the three of them. You quickly showered and dressed in something comfortable for the evening, a pair of shorts and an oversized crew neck. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and you sat in your living room while trying to find something to watch.

“Holy fuck!” you yelled when loud knocking was present at your door. You ran quietly to the door and peeked up at the peephole. Your eyes widened and you swiftly opened the door. “S-Sukuna…”

He didn’t look any different. His hair stilled spiked up, hair color was now black instead of pink like Yuji’s. His crimson red eyes remained on you, watching you observe him. He was tall, that was for sure. You were probably two heads shorter than he was. He wore black pants, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket to keep him warm. Black boots. A chain bracelet and necklace to accessorize.

“No…wait…you’re not—“

“It’s me, little flower.” His voice was still the same. So soft spoken just for you. Tears automatically blurred your vision. You brought him to your arms, your face buried in his chest as you cried.

“Sukuna…” You felt strong arms envelop you. He slowly brought you two inside and gently closed the door behind you. “H-How…?”

“Nanami Kento and the young boy did their research,” he said. “It was risky but it worked.”

“You didn’t do anything to them to them, did you?” you automatically asked. Sukuna huffed.

“If I did, it risked my chance of being with you,” he answered. “Can I go in and sit?” You nodded.

“Take your shoes off.”

“Yes, little flower.”

“Sit on the couch, I’ll make us some tea.”

“Which one do I like?”

“Green tea. Straight up. You hate sweets unlike me. You always rolled your eyes at me whenever I requested for sweets, nonetheless, you still go out to gather any sweet cravings I have.” You heard a chuckle.

“You remember.”

“How could I forget, my lord.”

“What did I say about you addressing me that way?”

“You hate it,” you answered and stuck your tongue out at him. Sukuna sighed and took a seat on the couch. He sighed in content. He never thought some sort of furniture would be this comfortable. He eyed around your apartment. Everything around was so new and…intriguing?

“You’ll need to teach me about this time,” Sukuna said. “Especially this technology crap. I could’ve killed anyone who was about to run me over because they were busy on their phones while driving.” You couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you, though. I was going to somehow break out of this immortal shit.”

“And your power?”

“I’m still powerful. I can feel it,” Sukuna said. “But…fuck, do you always need me to tell you these things?”

“I like direct answers, Sukuna! That never changed!”

“Tsk.” You returned with two cups of tea. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

“Still not a direct answer I wanted.”

“Fucking woman…” You giggled. A sound that perked his ears and that he missed so much. “I would do anything and everything to be with you, little flower. I’ll even stop being this powerful and evil person for you. Though, I would hope you would still let me.”

“Only within reason, you ass.”

“Woman!”

“I’m stating the truth.”

“Heh, you always do. That’s why I always kept you around too. I remember the first day meeting you.”

“When I was scared shitless because I thought you were going to kill me after we had sex.”

“I don’t like random women caressing my face after!”

“Mister evil demon lord,” you mumbled as you took a sip of your wine. Your eyebrows raised when he chuckled. You couldn’t help but smile. “So…you’re human now.” You watches him nod. “Is it—well…does it suck?”

“Do you want to be with me?” He watched you blush, a huge satisfaction in his end. “I’ll take it as a yes. So no, it doesn’t suck.”

“B-But why? Why am I that worth it for you, Sukuna?” you asked curiously.

“I’m not a good guy,” he said. “I still don’t like like humans. But, you were the best human I’ve met and—you’re purposely trying to make me give you a direct answer.”

“Quit beating around the bush.”

“Quit being weak—eek!” Sukuna pulled you in his arms, holding on to the tea cup so you wouldn’t spill anything on you.

“The first time I saw you crying, I knew it was when I need to keep you around. God, I hated that vulnerable feeling when I first saw those tears. And…I-I’d rather be a mortal human if that means we can be together and have time together again in the next life.” He looked at you. He looked at the soft smile your formed. A smile just for him that he was dying to see.

“So…am I any different now than I was a thousand years ago?” you asked.

“More stubborn, definitely not as innocent as you kill curses now, and not as delicate and fragile. But your soul remains the same and I still love you for still being who you are.”

“You know I can’t say that I love you yet,” you said. You noticed the rare fear in his eyes. “But, I’m willing to try. Having you in my life and see where things go.”

“Then, if that’s what my Queen wants, that’s what she’ll get.”

“You really would do anything and everything for me huh? Like, you’re wrapped around my finger type of love?”

“Silly human.”

“You’re human now too.”

“Still.” You couldn’t help but laugh. You leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips.

“It does feel good though. Being together with you.” You felt the grip on his arms tighten.

“I missed it. So damn much. Now…” Sukuna’s eyes eyed on the remote controller on the coffee table. He reached over for it and handed it to you. “Explain this device.”

[fantasticarcadefan]

The Stream

Part 1: Awakening

Warning: OOC, inaccurate character representation, possibly inaccurate workplace, Imposter SAGAU, lmk if there's more.

It's been over 30 hours since Genshin went down, and there was still no news from Mihoyo about it getting back online. The players were looking for ways to entertain themselves. The out of game community was growing in terms of activity due to how long this crash was.

With it being over a day, players are still hopeful on it being resolved soon, but our starting to get concerned about the lack of an official response from the devs about it getting back online soon, with the only response being that the game experienced a major error with a new patch, and they were working to get it fixed.

That is what Jason knew. He, his other friends, Olivia and Jack, and his sister, Jasmine, have been browsing Reddit, Twitch, Tumblr, and Twitter for any info on the game going back. And it's not like they could go through the files to try and figure out what's causing this, cause their friend, Y/N, haven't responded to their messages ever since this whole thing begun.

You've made some mods for your friends, ranging from new enemies, to better chances at rolls, and even a new nation you were working on, unlike those of Earth's past, which was oddly similar to the Telaki culture that was seen combined with Inazuma before the crash. When you were asked about it, you weren't sure if they were serious or joking, with you only realizing the truth upon being shown an image of the new Inazuma, which had you baffled.

Right now, the group is currently on a discord call, browsing various social media platforms, ranging from Twitch to Twitter, looking for answers that could possibly explain the shutdown. "Anything yet?" asked Jasmine, "Nothing." He replied, not finding anything of use on Twitch.

Most of the streams there were of the lore that was dropped, as well as some interviews with the voice actors, with a few of the streams being scam streams. As he kept browsing Twitch, he noticed a new stream, called "The Hunt", about to start soon.

"Huh." Jason says, a little intrigued at the title. "What is it?" Asked Jack, curious on Jason's thoughts. "Just an odd title of a stream starting soon." He said, going to the profile, only to see nothing there.

"What the?" He says, confused on the lack of account. "What is it?" Olivia asked. "There's no account!" Jason yelled, reloading the page to still find no account there. "Really?", "No way", "Are you sure?", they say, unconvinced. "Yes I'm sure. I'll send you guys the link." He says, copying the link and posting it to their chat.

A few seconds later, disbelief rang throughout the call. "What the??" "How is this possible?" "This is live soon, wtf?" Were some of the things said by the group.

"Alright then." Jason said once everyone calmed down. "It's evident that this stream is odd, with it having no account broadcasting it. It says that it's going to start soon, so do we watch this, or keep browsing?" Jason asks, taking note of their choices.

"Sure" "Why not." "Okay." The group says, all clicking on the stream, waiting for it to start.

------------------------------------------------------------

The developer offices were in a more chaotic state. Ever since the sudden shutdown, they haven't been able to save any of the changes they made to their game, with any change made causing the game to crash the game engine, and in some cases where heavier changes were applied, the computer itself.

One notable effect being reported across the board was the inhabitants of Teyvat all being alive, regardless of the game being run or not, with something akin to a temple being built near Liyue, as well as the NPC's all worshiping a new one called "The Creator", who didn't look like any Mihoyo employees when cross referenced with their employee data base, crossing out any conspiracy by them for the mean time despite suspioins remaining.

These problems were what Robert Lin was dealing with. Ever since the game went down, he and other development team leaders have been doing double time in order to find the root of this crash, or as he and some of the others were thinking, cyber attack.

Right now, he was in a call with several other game developer team leaders and a supervisor about any progress as of now, with it happening on a laptop at his supervisor's request, for the ability to see developments should they occur during a meeting.

"It's been 30 hours and we still have nothing?!" A disgruntled voice yells over the speakers of his office. The voice comes from Chang's Lao, his supervisor from China. "Sir, all attempts to change it have been unable to be saved, with even attempts to revert to old versions failing." Came the voice of his colleague, Elise Toutain, who oversaw the developers in France and led the development of Fontaine.

"What do you mean, unable to revert!?" Came Chang's enraged calls. "You developers are the only ones that have access to our projects, or are you gonna tell me an intern at Unity screwed us over??!!" He yells, before taking a deep breath, looking at them.

"What of this, "creator", that the NPC's are worshiping? What do we know about them?" He asks, seemingly trying to change the topic.

"From what we've seen," came the response of Higa Azami, head of the Japanese branch and lead developer of Inazuma, "it seems to be manipulating the game to its will in light ways, in the form of giving visions to NPC's who were previously visionless in the game files and strengthening characters that show loyalty to it. However, the land, animals, and monsters around it seem to freeze up around it, with it attacking the monsters and animals around it with each in game element, purplish abyssal energy beams, and golden pillars." She says, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"The spared go berserk, attacking all in sight before dying. She finishes, looking back at Chang, seeking a further response. Chang goes ahead and takes a sip of tea before looking at the dev leads.

"Has there been any other developments besides the undeveloped lands being added?"He asks, double checking for any new events.

That was another major change. The Snezhnaya, Khaenri'ah, the Abyss, and Celestia were added when the game went down.

Snezhnaya was mostly in development, with developers only recently starting to add buildings into it, with some debates about building placement in the nation wrapping up.

Khaenri'ah was still in the drafts, with many major buildings still being drawn, with the general area of the nation now being just being a wasteland, mainly inhabited by Hilichurls and Abyss mages. Danisleaf had been seen waging war against the Abyss Order, led by the abyss twin, Lumine.

The Abyss follows its namesake, just an empty void, filled with floating islands where enemies that were both already seen and monstrous entities that haven't been planned or scrapped on some of these islands.

Unlike the rest of Teyvat, the developers were unable to get a view of Celestia, with all attempts ending in their computers crashing and needing to be reset.

The best they have been able to do is map out it's approximate area, with it being around the size of Mondstadt, Liyue, Inazuma and the wilderness in between, on the ocean east of the game's mainland.

"There is one sir." Came the voice of Safar Naser, the lead Sumeru developer and head of the Egyptian branch. "We've been browsing the files and found the files carrying the "Creators" attacks, with each attack being heavily layered upon their in-game energy." He says, doing air quotations upon saying creator.

"However, the computers used to identify them were overheating, needing to be reset. When reopened, the files for the attacks were moved elsewhere, currently unknown." He says, taking a deep breath before continuing.

"It's highly likely that these attacks, and this Creator as a result, are playing a critical part in this virus or is the embodiment of this virus. We're double checking our firewalls and attempting to identify the virus's origin." He finishes, looking at Chang.

Cheng takes a deep breath, seemingly in deep. The devs wait for a response. "Have me notified of any future developments." He says, formulating a plan.

"For now, continue observing the game. Work with each other to identify any possible inconsistencies in between versions. I will be contacting Liu Wei about this. It's possible that this virus will spread to other games, so expect contact from the other dev teams. I would recommend hiring observers in the meantime so you can keep a wa-" the door to Roberts office is slammed open with an intern, Wyatt Icnez, his tags read, being the one responsible. "Sir!" He screamed, catching his breath.

Robert responded to the employee, having been startled by him. "Wyatt, this better be a development, if not-"

"That's the thing sir." He says, taking deep breaths. "There's another creator, and the system says that they're a player."

------------------------------------------------------------

You thought you slept on a weird side of the couch when you were unable to find the usual comfort of the surface when you awoke.

Moving around, you still were unable to find it. 'Why is this so unco-' your thoughts froze as you felt the coolness of water.

Expecting to be dumped somewhere with it, you quickly awoke, and got away from the coolness, determined to stay dry.

It was only then that you realized that you didn't know where you were, yet this place bore a striking resemblance to a few beaches in Teyvat.

'Okay, this is some weird shit.' You think to yourself, going to run your eyes when you notice your hands.

They bore resemblance to the styles that ran in Mihoyo's games.

Being a little freaked out by this, you decide to go ahead and pinch yourself in the slightest bit of hope that this was some new evolution or a dream.

To your horror, you felt it. 'Okay, okay, just take deep breaths' you thought to yourself, realizing you somehow got Isekaied to Genshin.

Deciding to try and focus on something else and delay the breakdown of being in Teyvat, you walk up the path, heading away from the beach, where you came across a cliff, where you had to climb.

That's when you realized that you were in Mondstadt. As you began climbing, you felt the rocks get easier to climb. While thinking about what to do there, your thoughts turned to a small concern, to the SAGAU fanfic, specifically the imposter ones.

You shook those off, thinking they were mere superstitions, wandering into Starfell lake. Unaware of those there.

As you wander through the lake, you take in the landscape of the forest. 'This is beautiful.' You think to yourself, going to pick up a flower. As you pick and smell it, something is heard from behind you. Before you could react, a sharp pain pierces you on the back shoulder.

Looking at your back, you're horrified to find that you've been shot in the back with an arrow, looking at the origin of the shot, you expected a Hillichurl to be attacking you, only to find your attacker to be Amber.

Only then did you realize,

You were being hunted.

[celestiamour]

ft. cassandra nova x f! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ surviving in the void isn’t the same as living┊0.6k words

contains: established relationship, angsty, before dp&w, probably ooc & lore inaccurate in so many ways but uhhhhh

➤ author's note: we need more cassandra x reader, she’s the prettiest bald woman

you stare out into the void, a vast desert that’s a mere skeleton of other worlds you used to explore freely, sitting on the ground and enjoying the fleeting breeze. there’s no point in it really, it’s already been burned into your mind long ago. there’s never anything different about the view, just sand and machinery with the occasional variant minion wandering around. despite being at the top of the food chain with cassandra, you feel like you’re only surviving instead of living, scraping by in a dimension that’s essentially a junkyard for discarded souls.  

the faint sound of whistling reached your ears, but you didn’t bother to turn your head and see who was approaching. you don’t need to when this spot was only known by one other person whom you would always sneak off with for moments alone.

“what are you thinking about, love?” she asked, sitting down next to you.

“nothing important,” you sigh. 

she gently nudged you. “come on, don’t make me use my telepathy on you.” it’s a joke, of course. she loves you enough not to do so, a display of trust to show that she won’t violate those boundaries like the first time you met. “tell me what’s going on.”

“it’s just that… don’t you ever want to leave the void and go back to earth?’

she hummed in response, “i guess i never thought about it, but i don’t think so. i can freely be myself and use my powers here while basically being the empress of this realm. i don’t think i want to leave for a place that would only hunt me down when they find that i escaped and banish me again after a few days. and besides,” she affectionately laid her head on your shoulder, “i have you here with me.”

“right, i know that, but… i can’t help but wish that we could be a normal couple, doing normal couple things… like i want to take you on dates at the beach, go to fancy restaurants, introduce you to my remaining family, travel the world to see all its wonders… i treasure what we have right now, but i want to do so much more with you, even if it’s just stereotypical lovey-dovey stuff…” your smile is pained and you worry if you’re being stupid right now. cass seemed perfectly content with how everything was right now, you had no idea if she felt the same way you did. it was a topic that seemed too sensitive to bring up before, but it’s one that was weighing on you constantly these past few days. 

you did have a point though. there isn’t anything really romantic that could be done in the void, nothing aside from physical touch, long talks and walks to nowhere, watching decades-old films on a beat-up television found a while back that barely worked— it was no place where love could flourish when merely existing was difficult enough.

cass looks deeply into your eyes, the bright eyes of her beautiful girlfriend. not even her girlfriend, she thinks of you more like her wife, a soulmate who was gifted to her after years of suffering hidden under layers of her sadistic and mischievous personality. if she was allowed to go back to the world she was ripped away from with you, she would like to marry you properly and put a ring around your finger as a testament to all you both have gone through.

escape was something she barely considered since it was something that seemed so out of reach and impossible, yet seeing the hope in your eyes sparked a light of optimism she hasn’t felt in years. “maybe one day, and we’ll do everything you mentioned and more… even if we are hunted down by the tva the entire time…”

[heizenka]

𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

♆ Luke Castellan x f!reader

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

— content warnings: mentions of blood, semi-gore, use of y/n, angst, ooc luke, death

— word count: 1.0k

Luke stood in front of her with shaky hands. His sword began to feel like it weighed more than the world, of course that was impossible, as his world was falling apart right in front of him. His world was dying at his own hand and all he could do was stand and watch as the pool of blood surrounding her spread, creating a red abyss around her body, an abyss that he couldn’t get past just so he could hold her for what he thought would be the last time.

 Her eyes searched the surrounding forest around them wondering if there was anyone close by that would find her body and give her a proper send off, because surely Luke wouldn’t . Finally her eyes locked on Luke’s, his flooded with anguish and guilt, her’s with anger and gratitude. 

Luke dropped his sword, and took three small steps towards her, not looking at the massive gash he’d created in her upper abdomen. Y/N showed no sign of fear or sadness, and that scared him more than anything for some odd reason. The girl he’d known was never one to never show her emotions or speak her mind, that was something he’d adored about her.

“This wasn’t the plan Y/N..” The tears that were building in Luke's eyes suddenly became too heavy and fell, leaving trails of regret down his face. 

Luke reached to hold Y/N’s hand, hoping to comfort her in what were going to inevitably be her final moments. He had nothing on hand to help her, and he knew he couldn’t afford the risk of ruining his entire life plan just for her. Her being the girl he’d known for years, the girl who was going to forever hold a piece of his heart, the girl that was going to be the last one to ever see this side of him.

His fingertips grazed her hand and for a moment he felt every ounce of pain ten times more than before. Y/N could see it in his eyes, everything he’d done was finally hitting him, the entire situation was becoming too real for the boy who had taken on so much, but in the end knew nothing.

Y/N pulled her hand away from him, not in sadness or grief, but rather in frustration. Luke lifted his eyes up from her hand to her eyes. His brow furrowed, she looked fine. There was no expression on her face, no tears, nothing. He was falling apart in front the girl he’d loved for years and she looked like she couldn’t care any less about the fact that she was leaving him behind and going somewhere he could no longer follow

“What’s wrong with you..” His brows furrowed in pained frustration, “Why don’t you care about what is happening right now! I’m a traitor, and because of me you’re dying, but you don’t even care!” Luke’s voice raised an octave, desperate for her to have some kind of reaction. 

“Luke, there’s nothing wrong with me, in fact I feel more free than I have in years.” There remained no expression on her face as she spoke, “there’s nothing left for me to do here, I’ve already done everything I needed to do in this lifetime.”

Luke's expression went from one of anger into one of sadness, “What do you mean you have nothing left to do..? You have me, us.”

“No Luke, there is no us anymore. Look at me. I’m bleeding to death because of you. You don’t get to tell me that I should grieve the life I could have had with you when I don’t even get to finish this one.” Y/N’s face remained expressionless. 

Luke swore he’d never felt pain like the kind he was feeling now. He’d practically killed the girl he claimed to love, and now he has to face the consequences of losing her.

“The funny thing is I would have married you if you’d never done this. We were so happy, and like everything you touch, you destroyed me, Luke.” Her eyes began to feel heavier with every word she spoke.

Luke noticed this, but all he could do was sit next to her frozen in fear. His lower lip began to quiver. ‘I would have married you’ it felt like he’d taken an arrow directly to the heart from Y/N herself. As he looked at her slowly drifting in and out of consciousness, his mind began to drive to what would have been if he wasn’t so fucked in the head. 

It would have been them for the rest of their lives. Maybe they would have had a kid,  and he would have had the chance to do what his father never did. Instead he did the same thing, he destroyed the person who he was supposed to love most in this world, and he wasn’t doing anything about it. 

“I’m sorry..” His voice was raspy with the tears he was attempting to golf back so he could have one semblance of control at the moment. 

His eyes lifted to Y/N’s face, and his world shattered. Her eyes were closed, and her chest no longer held the steady beat that used to calm him down whenever they were together. The tears he was holding back fell, and he couldn;t find it in himself to care about anything other than the body that was sitting lifeless in front of him. 

For the first time in his life Luke Castellan felt everything and nothing at the same time, and he had no one to turn to.

[freelancearsonist]

when the sun came up, you were looking at me

➔ Din Djarin x gn!Reader - 2.4k

➔ A bounty on your head and a bad ship wreck are just a few of the circumstances that have you questioning if you and Mando will ever be out of the woods.

➔ Rated PG-13 for curse words that are probably not canon in star wars, reader is generally able-bodied but otherwise is completely a blank slate, mando is probably ooc but we’re all a little delusional here, lots of blood, i don’t actually know how concussions work and we’re taking some broad liberties with injuries here.

➔ this is another submission to @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! (if you're reading this kel ily <3) this fic is non-linear so pls bare with me - the timeline will make more sense at the end!

You keep your head down and walk quickly, ignoring the frantic heartbeat of city noise surrounding you as your legs carry you down a dim street.

This is the last place you want to be right now. Even with your cloak’s hood drawn up around your head, you feel too exposed.

The apothecary is a very little hole-in-the-wall type place; you walk past it twice before you finally locate it. The facade looks like it’s about to crumble, and the single window is caked in a thick layer of dust. It looks like it’s been abandoned for decades, rotting with the telltale signs of neglect.

The storekeeper inside looks even worse. She’s a decrepit little woman, squat and skinny, white hair brittle and tangled. Just looking at her makes you want to slowly back away and apologize; say you have the wrong building and run away as quickly as you can.

This is the only shot you have, though; the only place that won’t immediately call the authorities when you step through the door. If you get picked up, everything is fucked.

With a deep breath, you swallow your nerves and summon Din to mind. You think of his easy, authoritative tone and you try to emulate the confidence that modulator always used to convey.

You hear the crash before it happens.

It’s unlike any sound you’ve ever heard before. A high pitched whistle in combination with the deep, metallic scrape of mechanisms working overtime.

And then you feel it. It shakes the very earth you stand on, sends tremors and shockwaves up your legs all the way to the crown of your head. Even after the ground has stopped trembling, your fingertips tingle with the sensation.

You grab a blaster and you run.

You know before you even find it that it’s Din’s ship. There’s a churning, nauseous wrench in your gut and you just know.

There’s so many thoughts swirling through your mind that it doesn’t feel like you’re thinking at all. Your body simply moves on autopilot, like you’re watching a holovid. You traipse bravely into debris and ruin, locating the crumpled remains of the cockpit.

All that beskar is a damned curse, because he blends right in amongst the crumpled and twisted metal of what used to be a functional ship. Stolen, sure, but functional all the same–and the only one either of you had. 

But you push aside your anger, because he isn’t responding. You’re calling his name and shaking his chest and he’s just laying there. Not joking about you smudging his armor, not breathing a little heavier at the sound of his name on your tongue like he always does. He just lays there, limp and unresponsive, and you’ve never been more terrified in your life.

There’s smoke and everything feels hot, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, adrenaline surges through your veins and you start dragging him. More than two hundred pounds of bulky man and armor but it doesn’t matter because if he dies like this you’ll never fucking forgive him, never fucking forgive yourself.

You drag him out of the wreckage and dump him unceremoniously on the grass, and then you get really scared. He hasn’t made a single noise, hasn’t even tried to help you with his weight.

You thump a little harder than you should on his chest, desperation outweighing any logical train of thought. “Din, wake the fuck up!”

It’s the slightest of movements–just a barely discernible turn of his helmeted head–but it’s enough. 

“Where are you hurt?” You beg, plead, cry. “You have to tell me where you’re hurt, I can help, but you have to tell me.”

His neck is just the littlest bit exposed, but it’s enough. You see scarlet red rivers tracing paths down corded muscle, and it makes your gut clench so hard you almost get sick right then and there.

“You have to take it off,” you whisper–your hand comes to rest at the side of his helmet, the only thing between living and dying at this point. “You have to take it off, Din, I can’t do it for you.”

His fingers twitch indecisively at his sides, and you realize with a gut-wrenching pang of fear that he might not be strong enough to do it himself. 

Or, even worse: that he might rather die than show you his face.

As soon as you’re back out the door, your body tremors with a sudden wave of previously repressed anxiety. You want to break out in tears, but you can’t yet. If there’s ever a time you have to be strong, it’s now.

You tuck the bag of supplies underneath your cloak and draw the fabric tightly around your torso as you walk back down the street the way you came.

You don’t think the storekeeper alerted anyone who shouldn’t know about your presence here, but you walk as quickly as you can anyway. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

The ship is old and barely functional, but it’s the best you could scrape up on short notice. It works well enough for these little in-system supply runs, even if it does shake a little more than is comfortable when you take off and land.

After what happened to Din, you swore you would never fly again. That promise went pretty short-lived.

“You’re late. Again.”

You’re used to the deep, gravelly tone of his modulated voice by now, but that doesn’t stop the shiver that works its way down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as meek as you can sound. You set a bundle of herbs and vegetables down on the counter, hoping the offering will appease him at least a little bit. “I found a garden and–”

“And you shouldn’t be going that far alone.” His voice is firm, there’s no room for negotiation.

“Din, I–”

“Don’t. Argue.” And there’s just something about that authoritative tone that makes your traitorous heart seize in a way it shouldn’t. “You are in danger. I brought you here to protect you but I can’t if you keep running away.”

“I wasn’t ‘running away’, I just wanted to be helpful.”

But he’s not budging–not on this one. “You can’t be helpful if you’re captured or killed.”

He stands towering next to you, so solid and imposing. He sets his hands on his hips and you hate the disapproval radiating from him. More specifically, you hate that you’ve disappointed him.

Your voice sounds small, meek–you hate it. “I didn’t do it, Din.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a galactic fugitive with a bounty on your head.”

He’s not wrong, but it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle defensively anyway.

“You said we were safe here. You said we could lay low here until my name is cleared and no one would find me.”

“If you follow my orders,” he adds firmly. “You’re reckless and it’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m restless!” You correct, throwing your hands up in the air. “I hate being fucking… cooped up! I want to go out, and I want to do things, and I want to be able to take care of you the way you take care of me!”

There’s a heavy moment of silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know as soon as the words are out of your mouth that you’ve said too much, but you don’t know how to backtrack now.

“I can take care of both of us.” His voice is so much softer and gentler, you almost think you’ve misheard him. Surely you have, because it’s only been a few weeks since he rescued you from certain death–since he decided the price of the bounty on your head wasn’t more valuable than your innocence–and he’s been a stoic enigma the whole time. Always quiet, always imposing. You’ve never been able to get a good read of what’s going on behind that visor, so you’ve always assumed there wasn’t much.

Maybe you were wrong. You so desperately want to be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, stepping a little closer. Approaching him like a wounded animal, terrified of scaring him off. “I’ll be more careful.”

And you hear it–the hitch in his breath through the modulator at your proximity. You’re closer than you’ve ever been before by choice, and he knows it.

“Good.”

He turns on his heel and retreats into the back room of the little cottage you’ve commandeered and fixed into somewhere livable, and you can do nothing but slump in defeat.

He barely gets the helmet over his ears before he passes out, but it’s enough. Your hands catch the heavy beskar before it can slide back down over his face and you pull it the rest of the way off to toss it safely out of the way.

You’ve seen little peeks of his skin before–mostly his hands when he tugs off those heavy leather gloves–and you know right away he’s too pale. His face is completely drained for color, and again you feel that uncomfortably sharp twist in your gut. But you tell it to fuck off and your hands spring into action, desperately trying to find what’s wrong.

There’s a small yet jagged piece of metal sticking out of his neck, right under where the helmet's protection ends but above where the neck of his shirt would normally sit. Just the smallest strip of exposed skin, but it’s enough. Luck wasn’t on his side today.

You have to pull it out to get a better idea of just how deep it is, but your fingers are so slick with his blood that you can’t get a good grip on it. That’s when the frustration kicks in and your eyes well with tears; your blurry vision only makes you more frustrated, until you’re helpless and sobbing into his stomach.

But you feel it–the slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest. He’s fighting, but he needs your help. You need to get it together because you’re the only chance he has.

You take a deep, unsteady breath and wipe the blood from your hands–and then you reach for that jagged piece of metal again.

You have to sit in the cockpit of your rusty, scavenged ship for a moment to catch your breath after you land safely and in one piece. You’re not even scared of crashing, you’re scared of dying and leaving Din alone. Din, who believed you when you said you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with. Din, who took you to the safety of this mostly uninhabited planet and assured you that no one would find you. Din, who swore that he would protect you.

Din, who has yet to wake up since he fainted lifelessly in your arms.

The metal wasn’t imbedded that deep, thank the Maker. He lost a fair amount of blood over it, but not so much that he couldn’t recover, and it didn’t knick anything too important that you couldn’t stitch back up even with your unskilled hands. 

It’s the concussion that worries you. You’re certain it’s not the first he’s had, but it’s definitely got to be the most severe. His skull must’ve bounced around in that damned helmet like a stray pinball. You’re able to take a small amount of comfort from the way his pupils retract when you lift his eyelids, at least, but that comfort wanes with each passing day that he doesn’t wake up.

This is your third time returning from that shady little apothecary on the next planet over, but it’s the first time his eyes have been open when you come through the door.

And for one horrible, gut-turning moment, you think he’s dead. He stares so blankly at the ceiling that you want to fall to the floor and die yourself.

But he hears you approaching, and his eyes flicker over to you. Those deep, chocolatey brown eyes that you’ve come to crave meet yours for the very first time and you start to sob with relief.

You push his back firmly against the mattress when he tries to get up, and you shake your head when his lips part around unspoken words. You just need to cry right now, so he lets you.

Everything comes up all at once–days of panic and fear, days of never knowing if you would ever hear the sound of his voice again, days of tears that you haven’t cried because you haven’t allowed yourself to. It all comes to a boiling point and spills over the edge of the pot, and poor Din just lays there and lets you cry into his chest because there’s nothing else he can do.

It takes longer than you wish it did for you to regain some composure, and when you finally pull away you’re feeling a little more than self-conscious about the very apparent display of emotion.

He must sense it, and even though his face is unreadable, he catches your hand before you can retreat too far.

“H-helmet?” He croaks, throat dry with misuse.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’ll go get it. I… I didn’t see your face, as far as this is concerned. You’re safe with me.”

But he doesn’t let go of your hand when you step to retrieve the helmet–if anything, he squeezes it tighter.

“S’okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “K-kinda… feels ni-ice.”

And it makes your heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. That not only is he letting you see his handsome face, but he might even be enjoying it.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” you murmur as you start to remove the bandage from his neck. It’s healed down to a thin line now–the bacta’s run its course, and it’s faded to a simple scar. It could be years old if you didn’t know better. “I… I was so scared.”

“M’sorry.”

And you laugh, because it’s so ridiculous that he feels the need to apologize. It’s so ridiculous that he could think you’re upset at him for getting hurt when all you feel is pure, unadulterated relief.

He takes a deep breath and catches your hand again. “Saved me.”

“You saved me, too,” you murmur–before you can think about it, you ghost your lips in a feather-light kiss over his knuckles.

His eyes flutter shut from that minimal amount of contact, but it’s enough. He’s okay, you’re okay, and it’s enough.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

[eliciria]

Ahmmm..

Headcanons for Leona Kingscholar while being friends with benefits with Reader/yuu

Angst and fluff??

a/n : thanks so much for requesting! My first post that actually shows my writing! wow! Sorry if it's a bit more angsty than fluff, i naturally go there hehe. Hope you enjoy!

whisper to the trees... (ask box) : open

check my about me/request rules here

wc : 0.8k words

cws : suggestive but still fluff, miscommunication phase for like 2 seconds, swearing, kind of ooc leona, potentially happy ending? gn reader

song playing : this is how it feels by laufey ft. d4vd

Leona Kingscholar with a friends to benefit! Relationship

I'll be so real right now, he actually wouldn't do any type of PDA with you. Even if you lean to more of the affectionate and almost lover-type phase of your 'friendship', he won't even attempt to try and hold your hand out in the open.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want to, though.

It's just that his pride kind of gets in the way when he attempts to brush his fingers against yours a little longer.

Pride is also probably the main reason why both of you remain friends. You think he wants to remain friends, while he struggles to pour his true emotions to you.

It leads into a cycle of ghosting then love bombing. The lack of responsibility within the interactions of both of you, before finally missing you becomes toxic.

He misses your supposed first dates, before apologizing later in the night. After reconciling, you'd attempt to meet up with him again past your `nightly activities` , but he misses it again. The cycle repeats.

Frankly, you were a bit sick of it. But you gave him one last chance to talk it out with you after class. To figure it out together.

So when he notices you right after he flirts with a random student(for them to carry one of the group projects, that is). He can't help but regret to have confessed earlier.

You walk hastily, trying to avoid the awkward situation you just witnessed. You finally got your answer, but you wished it wasn't in this way.

You pretended that you weren't in denial, and your actions showed the opposite. You really were. Tears were fighting to come out, and your lips trembled in both sadness and anger.

You only snapped out of it when Leona grabbed your hand a bit too tightly, breaking you out of your train of thought.

"Are you seriously walking away?" He asked you. How funny. You scoff.

"After witnessing that? Any person would."

"You don't understand." Really? Is this how he is going to act? You roll your eyes, tears sliding.

"Just what do I not understand? That you pulled that shit on me? Just how long do you think I can handle this bullshit?" Your voice attempts to remain stable, but the broken sobs break your attempt to look like you didn't care. You were just friends, yes. But the nights where he had "loved" you felt too much now.

" Yuu--"

"What, huh? I'm tired, so tired of you treating me like a whore. Like someone with no dignity. You treat me like a friend, and I'm happy you do. But when we try to step forward, you act like I'm just a fucking bed warmer! Just what do you want from me Leona?! I can't keep up with this. I love you, but I'm tired. Please, just stop-"

You get interrupted with your face being buried in his chest. He was embracing you, with a bit too much gentleness. He was stroking your hair, muttering a "shhh...". You hit his chest again and again, your broken sobs muffled. It would happen all over again. You'd fall again, and he'd do nothing but let you.

He watched as you screamed at him. It was understandable, he had refused to show any sign that he had truly loved you. But when he picked up the noise of students' footsteps, he can't help but want this to be cut short.

Nobody can hear your cries, unless it was him.

He immediately embraced you, both in comfort, and to blur your cries.

As you hit him as he hugs you, he gripped you a bit tighter. The punches were weak, and he was too focused on stopping you from crying.

Students passed by the both of you, glaring at the scene. A couple hugging in a hallway? Out of all the places?

But they rushed on as they noticed his death stare. The second they had tried to look at your face, he was tempted to pounce at them right then or there. He fought the urge to actually commit the act; he simply moved himself so all they would see was his back, and not you.

After a few more minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I do love you. I really fucking do. The only person I want to see is you. The only person I want to be with is you. I just...don't know how to tell you that. I acted incredibly douchey, so i apologize. For everything. For all the dates I missed. For the missed opportunities to say I love you. For not being able to give you what you deserve. I'll change. Fuck, I'll do anything. I need you, so please. Don't leave."

You remain still, before letting out a jagged breath. You held onto the side of his jacket, and he rests his hand on your neck, the other on your waist. You look at him.

"I won't."

a/n : the cycle continues! if you liked this, please like or repost it! again, my asks are open, and thanks for reading!

[gojoulen03]

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

"MY DAUGHTER, THE DIVINE ONE"

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

A/N:

I'm saying this rn but this.. this blog is a literal mess. It's my first time posting this kinda uh.. yup. So I'm a little annoyed by it but I'm bored so I went through.. uh with it anyway..

I had an alternate version of this in Wattpad called 'Rose Thorns' lol. I'm still thinking of who will be the love interest for Y/n because this sht is similar to the usual SAGAU plot idk if I'm right though (correct me if I'm wrong lol).

Again, this is a mess. Idk if I posted this correctly.. but I tried anyway..

Sypnosis :

You are Tsukuyomi Y/n with a lovely daughter named Yuna. You've always dreamed of becoming a mother and decided to have one through artificial method (lol idk if that's real yet but I remembered a manga with that Soo YUp AND THIS IS FICTION so I had the power of making the impossible real here in this story LOL and yes you are rich in Earth cuz i said so ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)). You paid someone handsomely to give you the means to have a child without any sort of y'know lol- and finally had Yuna after so long of waiting.

You are deeply devoted to Yuna's well-being and promised to protect her no matter what.

But tragedy struck when you got involved in a car accident that claimed your life, leaving your daughter Yuna without her only guardian. Your own death left you feeling desolate and remorseful for not being able to watch your 5-year-old daughter grow up.

However, your journey took an unexpected turn when you found yourelf in a mysterious and unfamiliar world. You retained only hazy memories of your past life but resolved to forge ahead. Even in this strange new world, you couldn't let go of your fervent prayers for Yuna's safety.

You went on a journey in this new world called Teyvat. But what if your daughter follows you there - all grown up, so mature and with so many mysteries?

GENSHIN IMPACT X G/N! Reader

Warnings: Grammatical Errors, Lazy Writing, Possibly alot of errors again lol, MANY TYPOS idK, VERY OOC (I'mma not lie here), Y/n being the Cupid LATER lol, Yandere!Harem??? Obsessive Acolytes/Believers to the Divine One, MANY SIMPINGS ˛(ˊʙˋ)੭˒˒

CHAPTER 00

In the supposedly peaceful and beautiful world - Y/n, a beautiful God(dess) in a white robe and veil, had been engaged in a fierce battle to protect your city from marauding Gods. Your barrier stood resolute, deflecting attacks and safeguarding your people, but the more you fought, the more you felt your energy wane.

"Your majesty! Please, it's enough!" A voice was heard from behind. But despite the pleas of your beloved subjects to cease the battle, You remained unyielding, your bowstring singing as you sent arrow after arrow towards your foes. The Archon War had erupted unexpectedly, shattering the harmony among divine beings who were once friends. You couldn't comprehend why you were now locked in a merciless struggle for your nations' survival.

"You must be getting tired. How about resting now?" taunted by your enemy God, reveling in your weakening state. Undeterred, You glared back, refusing to back down. Your resolve was unbreakable; You were determined to defend your land until your very last breath.

"I will not! I will never back down until my last breath!" You yelled.

"Let's see about that, Goddess Y/n!" They said, as they were ready to launched another attack.

But just as you braced yourself for another attack, a familiar voice broke through the haze of battle.

"Ma/Pa.."

"Ma/Pa.. ma/pa.."

"Mama/Papa!!"

Startled, You gasped, your battle-weary eyes fluttering open. You found yourself in a small, warm room, and your attention was drawn to a tiny, innocent face—the face of your adorable daughter, Yuna.

"Mama/Papa! You're awake, right?!" Yuna's tiny hands shook you, urging you back to consciousness.

"Mama/Papa, it's time to wake up!" You blinked, the memories of your celestial battle fading into the background as you're fully awake now.

"Oh, Mama/Papa's awake now, dear Yuna," you whispered, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lifted your daughter into your arms.

Yuna's innocent eyes widened with concern. "Mama/Papa, you were making scared noises in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

You smiled, brushing a gentle hand over Yuna's cheek. "It was just a bad dream, my love. Mama/Papa's fine now." You marveled at the contrast between the dream's fierce goddess persona and the reality of your role as a loving parent. How could such a powerful being in your dream world be the same person who cuddled with your daughter each morning?

"Let's focus on happier things," You suggested, ruffling Yuna's hair playfully.

"Hehe, okay! Let's eat breakfast now, Mama/Papa! I'm hungry!" Yuna's enthusiasm was infectious, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your daughter's radiant joy. You dismissed the surreal images of your divine battle as a dream or perhaps the result of watching too many fantasy movies recently.

"What would you like to eat today, my little sunshine?" You asked.

Yuna's face lit up with excitement. "Pancakes, Mama/Papa! With strawberries!"

You chuckled, the remnants of the dream slipping further away with each giggle. "Pancakes it is, sweetheart. Let's make them together."

With a tender smile, You kissed Yuna's forehead. "And also good morning, my precious. I love you."

Yuna giggled, her laughter echoing through the room like music. "I love you too, Mama/Papa!"

Together, you both ventured into the kitchen, the aroma of pancakes filling the air as you expertly flipped them on the griddle. Yuna stood on a chair, her eyes wide with fascination as she watched her parent cook.

What had seemed like a fierce, otherworldly struggle faded into the background as you dismissed it as a fleeting nightmare. Perhaps it was the result of watching too many fantasy movies, you thought, trying to rationalize the vivid dream.

"Yeah, it must be a dream," You reassured yourself, embracing the reality of your daughter's laughter and the aroma of breakfast wafting from the kitchen.

"Mama/Papa, are you a superhero?" Yuna asked suddenly, her innocent curiosity sparking a twinkle in her eyes.

You paused, caught off guard by the question. You knelt down to Yuna's eye level, your expression tender. "Well, I might not be a superhero, but I'll always protect you, my dear. You mean everything to me."

Yuna beamed, her small hand reaching out to grasp yours. "I love you, Mama/Papa!"

"I love you too, my precious Yuna," You whispered, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude.

You prepared a hearty meal for yourself and for your precious daughter, Yuna, savoring the simple pleasures of your shared moments. As you both sat down to eat, Yuna's innocent chatter filled the room, momentarily pushing away the lingering thoughts of that dream you had earlier.

"Mama/Papa, what's your favorite story?" Yuna asked between bites of the pancakes.

You smiled, reminiscing about the stories you used to hear as a child. "My favorite story is about a brave god(dess) who protected their people from all the dangers of the world. They were strong, just like me, and they never gave up, no matter how tough things got."

Yuna's eyes widened with admiration. "Wow, Mama/Papa, you're like that god(dess), right?"

You chuckled, ruffling Yuna's hair affectionately. "I try to be, sweetheart. I'll always protect you and keep you safe, no matter what."

You only wished the best for your daughter.

That's all you need..

Those dreams probably meant nothing, right?

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, with You and Yuna sharing your lives in blissful harmony. You had put the strange dreams behind you, attributing them to a mere figment of your imagination, yet the memories of your battles as a god(dess) lingered, casting a subtle shadow over your peaceful existence.

It also arose so many questions..

Why do you have that dream?

What does it mean?

Is it a past life?

Why are you remembering it?

You're already happy with youe daughter. You don't want to be burden with a problem you don't even know about.

That was all just a dream anyways..

But one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found herself lost in thought on the porch of their cozy home. Yuna, now a bit older but just as radiant, skipped over, her eyes filled with curiosity.

"Mama/Papa, why do you sometimes look so sad?" Yuna asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You smiled gently, your fingers tracing the patterns of the wooden porch. "Oh, my sweet Yuna, it's just Mama/Papa's thoughts wandering. Sometimes, grown-ups think about many things at once."

"But you can tell me, Mama. I'm a big girl now!" Yuna insisted, her determination mirroring her parent's.

You sighed, realizing that your daughter was growing up and deserved to know the truth, or at least part of it. "Alright, my love. Mama/Papa had some strange dreams lately, dreams of battles and wars. It felt like I was someone else, someone powerful but burdened by the weight of protecting others."

Yuna's eyes widened in awe. "Like a superhero?"

You nodded, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. "Yes, something like that. But these dreams were so vivid, as if they were memories from another life. It's all very confusing, Yuna."

Yuna reached out and held her parent's hand, her grip surprisingly strong for a child her age. "Mama/Papa, I think those dreams are trying to tell you something. Maybe you're meant to do something important."

You looked at your daughter, marveling at the wisdom hidden behind those innocent eyes. "You're right, Yuna. Perhaps there's a reason I'm having these dreams. I just wish I knew what it meant."

You couldn't help but hug your daughter. Just how caring and smart is this girl? This daughter of yours is too perfect to be yours. She's far too wise..

Even you can't come out with such an advice. But your 5 years old daughter could.

"You're so mature, aren't you, my love?" You said, as you kisses your daughter's chubby cheek who giggled in return. "Hehe! Because I am a big girl!"

"Yes, you are a big girl, love."

Though you couldn't exactly shake the feeling of being a powerful god(dess) in that otherworldly battle, your memories of an archon war still vivid, despite the comforting reality of your daughter's presence.

"Mama/Papa, can I ask you something?" Yuna's innocent voice interrupted your thoughts.

"Of course, my sweet," You replied, setting your daughter to your side to give your full attention to your daughter.

Yuna looked up at you with those big, curious eyes. "What were you fighting in your dream, mama/papa? Were you super strong?"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the complexities of your dream world to a 5-year-old. "Well, it was just a dream, dear. In the dream, Mama/Papa had to protect something very important, just like how I always protect you."

Yuna nodded thoughtfully. "Like a superhero, right?"

You smiled, relieved at the simplicity of Yuna's understanding. "Yes, like a superhero."

"Cool! I wanna be a superhero too!"

"Study first-"

"But mama/papa!!"

"Just kidding~!"

But as the day went on, you couldn't shake the feeling that your dream held a deeper significance. The memories of the archon war and the title of "God(dess) Y/n" haunted your thoughts, refusing to be dismissed as mere fantasy.

That night, after tucking Yuna into bed and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, you found herself unable to sleep. You decided to indulge your curiosity and did something you hadn't done in a long time-you opened your laptop and began searching for information about archons and the concept of divine beings.

But you found no information about all the things you remembers in your dream.

Is it just.. a dream?

Lost in thought, you murmured, "God(dess) Y/n... Archon War... it all feels so distant yet so real."

Yuna, ever perceptive, approached her parent out of nowhere, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Mama/Papa, is something bothering you?"

"Ahh!" You almost fell down your chair when you saw your daughter standing next to you. Gosh! She's scary sometimes!

"Gosh, you scared Mama/Papa, love." You said, as you sighed in relieved that it was only your daughter. Yuna shrugged her shoulder before climbing into your lap and sitting comfortably.

"Why aren't you sleeping, baby? Didn't Mama/Papa tucked you in already?"

"Can't sleep yet.." She respond, as she hugged her doll tighter before looking back to you.

"So.. what's bothering you, Mama/Papa?" She asked curiously.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for your sweet daughter's concern. "It's nothing, sweetheart. Just an old dream Mama had like i told you before-"

But as you spoke, a sudden jolt surged through you, a flash of memories and emotions that felt too vivid to be merely a dream. You saw yourself clad in divine armor, battling against other gods. Faces once blurred became clear in your mind's eye.

"The Archon War.." You whispered, the words heavy with realization. "It's like.. a reality.. I'm not sure.. but I felt like I've known about it like a long time ago.."

Yuna's eyes widened with wonder. "Mama/Papa, what's an Archon war??"

You shake your head, your mind racing to comprehend the implications of your rediscovered identity. "I don't know, sweetie.. but there was a war. But why? Why were we fighting? Why was i fighting? What am I protecting..?" You questioned, confusing the little girl even more.

"Ehh.. really, Mama/Papa? Maybe you died and got reincarnated? I saw a movie about that!" Yuna explained.

"Reincarnated? Wait- how did you know that big word?" You asked. Yuna giggled as she snuggled into her doll. "Hehe! I heard it from watching marvel!"

"Right.. Hawkman.."

"Hehe! I like Ironman and Hawkman!" Yuna said excitedly, as she raised her doll up like it was flying.

You sighed. "Maybe I made her watch so many movies.."

Still.. how can this be?

Why are you remembering all this memories now?

You already have a life with your daughter..

Why now?

As you navigated the bustling city streets, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of seeing Yuna's face light up with joy upon receiving the special treats you had bought today. The aroma of fresh donuts filled the car, tempting your senses as you carefully maneuvered through the traffic.

Your dedication to your daughter, Yuna, was unwavering. You juggled a demanding career as a high-profile fashion designer for a prestigious modeling company while ensuring that your daughter's upbringing was filled with love, happiness, and positive role models. Your decision to distance yourself from your previously abusive and greedy household was a testament to your commitment to providing Yuna with a safe and nurturing environment.

As you drove home, the box of delectable donuts sat securely on the passenger seat, tempting your senses with their sweet aroma. You couldn't help but smile, thinking about the joy these treats would bring to your little girl.

"I bet my baby would like the donuts I bought today," You mused aloud, your excitement palpable. "It's definitely the best ones I've tasted! I'm sure she'll like them."

With each turn of the wheel, your anticipation grew. The thought of Yuna's radiant smile and the delighted squeals of a child about to receive a cherished surprise filled your heart with warmth. There was nothing you wouldn't do to ensure Yuna's happiness and well-being.

She is your precious girl after all.

Who wouldn't want the best for their child?

"My precious baby... I so missed you, my Yuna. Mama will be spoiling you a lot this weekend for sure. Hmm... maybe I'll take her to the water park this Saturday?" Your thoughts were filled with excitement as you drove home, your anticipation growing with each passing moment.

However, in the midst of your joyful reverie, you failed to notice the fast-approaching truck until it was too late. The deafening impact sent shockwaves through your car, causing it to veer off the road and collide with the oncoming vehicle. The world around you blurred into chaos, and time seemed to slow as the accident unfolded.

Huh?

The world around you spun into chaos as the impact of the collision reverberated through your body. Glass shattered, metal twisted, and the sound of screeching brakes filled the air. Darkness enveloped you, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When you finally regained her senses, you found yourself trapped in the wreckage of your car. Pain radiated through your body, and as you tried to move, you realized your injuries were severe. Panic welled up within you as the realization of what had just happened sunk in.

Your thoughts immediately turned to your daughter, Yuna. Fear clutched at your heart as you desperately called out to your little girl, but there was no response. Panic and anguish swirled within you as you fought against the pain and the wreckage that held you captive. I must go back to her! I still haven't given the donuts to my precious baby!

Pain shot through your body as you clung to consciousness, your first thought being of your precious Yuna. Panic continued to surged within you as you struggled to assess the situation.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you managed to unbuckle yourself and crawl out of the mangled car. Your vision was blurred, and your limbs felt heavy, but you had to go home to Yuna.

Your legs wobbled, panic turned to dread as you thought about Yuna waiting at home with the nanny, unaware of the accident. You had to get home, had to make sure your daughter was safe.

In the midst of the chaos, your thoughts were solely with Yuna. "I hope my Yuna is safe," you thought, your heart pounding with fear and concern. The seconds stretched like hours as you struggled to regain your bearings, your mind racing with worry for your daughter.

In the distance, you could hear voices shouting, the wailing of sirens approaching.

Your car's front end was crumpled, and the truck involved in the accident was equally damaged. The scene was chaotic, with concerned onlookers and emergency responders swarming around.

"M-my daughter," Y/n's voice laced with desperation. "Please, you have to help me. I need to get home to her."

The emergency responders arrived swiftly, their skilled hands working efficiently to extract you from the wreckage. All the while, your thoughts remained fixated on Yuna, your love for your daughter propelling you forward.

In the ambulance, amidst the blaring sirens and the medical team's urgent voices, you clung to consciousness. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination. You couldn't let go, not when your little daughter syill needed you.

"It's gonna be okay, ma'am! Don't lose your consciousness! We're almost there!"

"We have to immediately take first aid!"

(Idk about this.. uh things so bear with it lol)

At the hospital, doctors and nurses worked tirelessly to stabilize you. Hours passed in a haze of pain and worry, but through it all, one thought persisted - your precious daughter, Yuna. You needed to be there for her, to protect her, just as you had always vowed to do.

As you lay there, pain coursing through your body, you felt a profound sense of urgency. The world around your became hazy, youe vision blurred. You knew your time was slipping away, like sand through an hourglass. The paramedics rushed to your side, their voices a distant echo in your ears.

In the midst of the chaos, you fought to find your voice, to speak your final words before surrendering to the abyss. With a tremor in your weakened voice, you whispered to yourself, aware that youe daughter, Yuna, remained oblivious to the tragedy that had befallen you.

"Yuna," you choked out, each word infused with a mixture of anguish and love. "My sweet, beloved daughter, I hope you can hear these words, even if only in your heart.."

As you felt the grip of life slipping away, you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. The pain and confusion consumed you, but amidst it all, you clung to your final thoughts, desperate to convey your love and remorse to your beloved daughter, Yuna.

Barely able to speak, your voice reduced to a mere whisper, your mind screamed with unspoken words. You yearned to tell Yuna how sorry you are, how deeply ashamed you felt for leaving your behind in this world, alone and unaware of the impending tragedy.

Blood pooled in your throat, choking your words and stealing your breath, but your thoughts raced with determination. With every ounce of strength you still possessed, you wished for your daughter's growth, for her to thrive in a world that you had only begun to understand.

In the midst of your pain, your love for Yuna burned brighter than ever. You wanted your daughter to know that your absence was never a choice, but a cruel twist of fate. Tears welled in your eyes, mixing with the blood that stained your lips, as you silently begged for forgiveness.

As the medical team continued to do their work on helping her, their urgent movements a blur around your fading consciousness, You held onto the image of Yuna in your mind. You whispered your final words, a desperate plea, hoping that somehow, in the vastness of the universe, your daughter would feel your love and hear your apologies.

In those fleeting moments, Your thoughts transcended the physical realm. You poured your heart and soul into a silent scream, a profound expression of love and regret that resonated in the depths of your being.

Through the pain and struggle, You fought to string together more coherent thoughts, desperate to convey your feelings, hopes, and apologies to your beloved daughter.

"My sweet Yuna, forgive me... I never wanted to leave you, my baby," you whispered in your mind, your voice quivering with a mix of love and anguish.

"I won't witness your first heartbreak... but remember, my darling, you are stronger than you know. You will rise above the pain and find love again."

"Yuna, my precious baby, don't let my absence hold you back. Embrace life's opportunities, explore the world, and chase your dreams with unwavering determination."

Her thoughts grow strained and weak, you continued, your words a fragile thread connecting you to your daughter's future. "I wanted to guide you, to be there for you... but circumstances have robbed us of that chance. You must find your own way, my love."

The tears flowed freely as your thoughts turned to the milestones you would miss. "I won't see you find your lifelong friends, those who will stand by your side through laughter and tears. But know that true friendships will enrich your life in ways I could never imagine."

"Yuna, my heart aches at the thought of not witnessing your wedding day. But when that time comes, know that I am with you in spirit, overflowing with love and pride as you embark on a new chapter of your life."

Your voice grew fainter, but your determination pushed you to utter one last plea in your head. "Promise me, my sweet Yuna, that you will live a life filled with joy, passion, and purpose. Seek happiness, embrace love, and never forget the strength within you."

As the darkness closed in, your final thoughts were consumed by your daughter's welfare. "Please, someone... protect and cherish my Yuna. Be the support and guiding light that I can no longer be. Love her as fiercely as I do."

With your strength waning, you held onto the hope that your whispered words would find their way to Yuna's heart. You longed for your daughter to know the depth of your love, the remorse you felt for leaving too soon, and the unwavering belief in Yuna's ability to navigate life's challenges.

And as your consciousness slowly faded, your final thoughts were a fervent wish for your daughter's growth, happiness, and the fulfillment of all her dreams.

"I love you, my Yuna.."

In your final moments, your thoughts were consumed by your undying love for Yuna, a love that transcended the boundaries of life and death. As your eyes fluttered closed, your last thoughts were of your daughter's smiling face, a beacon of light that guided you into the unknown.

You couldn't fight your dead..

Not again..

You failed again..

You failed protecting someone again..

And in that fleeting moment, as the world faded to darkness, you found solace in the knowledge that your love for Yuna would endure, an eternal flame that would continue to burn brightly, even in your absence.

'I'm so sorry, Yuna..'

Yuna played contentedly with her dolls, her imagination leading her on adventures only a child's mind could conjure. Her nanny and also Y/n's best friend, Kate, sat nearby, keeping a watchful eye on the little girl as she indulged in her imaginative play. Yuna was a charming but particular child, especially when it came to her food preferences. Yet, her undeniable cuteness made her nannies' hearts melt, rendering any minor inconveniences inconsequential.

Kate focused on the news broadcast playing on the television, its volume low so as not to disturb Yuna's playtime. But then, an unexpected news report abruptly seized her attention.

"A twenty-six-year-old woman/man was caught in a car accident," the news anchor announced solemnly. "The authorities have confirmed their identity. Tsukuyomi Y/n. She/He is a famous fashion designer for the Famous El Vera Company, who lives with their daughter, Tsukuyomi Yuna, in the..."

Kate's breath caught in her throat as she listened to the news report. Time seemed to stand still as the weight of the information sank in. Her eyes darted to Yuna, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, her innocent laughter filling the room.

She quickly turned off the television, not wanting Yuna to overhear the devastating news. Panic welled up within Kate as she contemplated how to handle the situation delicately. She knew she had to inform Yuna about her parent's accident, but how could she break such heart-wrenching news to a young child?

Taking a deep breath, Kate approached Yuna gently, crouching down to her eye level. She mustered a warm smile, masking the anguish she felt inside.

"Hey, sweetie," Kate began, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "I have something important to tell you about your mom/dad."

Yuna looked up, her big, innocent eyes filled with curiosity. "What is it, Nanny?"

"Well, darling, your mommy/daddy was in a car accident," Kate said softly, her heart breaking at the thought of shattering Yuna's world. "They're hurt, and they're in the hospital right now, getting the help they needs."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes as she clutched her doll tightly, her heart aching with a profound sense of loss. In that moment, the world seemed to crumble around her, and the reality of her mother/father's absence began to sink in.

"But... but Mama/Papa promised they'd come back, right?" Yuna choked out, her voice breaking as she struggled to hold back tears. "They said they'd bring me donuts today... they can't be... they can't..."

Kate fought back tears, mustering all the strength she had. "Yuna! I'm sure the doctors are doing everything they can to help them! But it's important for you to know that they loves you very much, and they want you to be strong and brave while they recover."

A flicker of fear crossed Yuna's face, and she clutched her doll tightly. "Can I see mommy/daddy?"

Kate's heart sank. She knew the truth had to be told, no matter how painful it was. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, but right now, your mommy/daddy needs to rest and get better. The doctors won't let visitors in. But you can send them your love and thoughts, and they'll feel them, I promise."

Tears welled up in Yuna's eyes, and she buried her face in the safety of Kate's arms. "I want my mommy/daddy, Kate. I miss her/him."

Kate enveloped Yuna in a warm embrace, her own eyes filling with tears. "I know, sweetheart. I know it's incredibly hard. Your Mama/Papa loved you very much, and they'll always be in your heart."

As Yuna clung to her, seeking comfort, Kate whispered a silent prayer for strength and guidance. She knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges, but she was determined to be there for Yuna, to support her, and to help her navigate the difficult journey of healing and acceptance. She was only a little girl and she had lost her only parent. Isn't Y/n's family full of abusive people? Yuna will be in danger for sure..

Kate hold Yuna tightly in her arms, as she embrace the little girl and whispering comforting words to her.

'I promise to protect your daughter for you, Y/n..'

Taglist: ----

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