#Twinkle Stars Like Singing a Song

[maisartworksstuff]

ℓσσк αт тнє ѕтαяѕ ✨🌌💫

[clochanamarch]

truly unable to comprehend how this wasn't one of, if not the most popular song in the album, but i wanna yell abt how it's connected to a bunch of different things, including the seventh circle of hell and the hundred years since ireland gained independence from the uk, BUT IN RELATION TO AISLING?? let me whip out my notes:

a lot of the song references this fierce belief and determination to hold on to hope, even if the present is bleak, like ??? "after all, darlin', i wouldn't sell the world // the way that things are turning // if it falls, i would hold on for all it's worth // the future's so bright it's burning." LIKE I??? u expect me to be normal abt the way this reflects aisling at every single turn?? the way that aisling will literally defy every single instinct to turn her back on the world, on the universe, on a society that is so seldom reliable in its goodness, she'll ignore every urge to turn away, and she'll keep holding on and dragging it from the darkness because she knows there's light, there's hope, there's a good future at the end of it, and come what may, she wouldn't abandon it for all the money and power in existence, because that future is worth the effort of holding on and keeping the faith in humanity alive.

[littlest-bugz]

My face when the song my mom used to sing to me as a lullaby is actually the saddest fucking break-up/love song

[image does not belong to me. unknown creator]

[rae-earth]

In which Grand Master Vampire Irwin Frost sings a lullaby to his infant daughter about the joys of flight and the dangers of werewolves who hunt the night for little baby batlings.

Close your eyes, my darling, close your eyes.

Up above in the moonlit skies, the black bats soar.

Down below, the werewolves roar.

So sleep my little bat, sleep until they roar no more.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Is it possible to have some more Mr Flavour please?

The first thing he notices is the soft mattress underneath him. It's such a stark difference between the bed of his motel and even the bed at his house that Danny knows he's nowhere near his tax bracket.

There is such a thing as too comfortable. The sinking feeling of the plush pillow around his head is entirely like that.

When he blinks and opens his eyes, he finds that someone has placed him in a large bed with a canopy bed. Shifting about tells him that all four of his limbs were tied to the bedposts, and although he's not pulled taunt, he definitely isn't going anywhere without his powers.

The chains used were long enough that he would likely be able to shift about but not get off the bed. It looks like they were meant to allow him to move in the middle of the mattress, but that's it.

Curiously, he heaves himself into a sitting position, mindful of not going too far in any direction, running his eyes over the bedroom he finds himself in. It takes him a moment to notice that everything is themed around a mushroom forest, almost as if he was dropped in the setting of a fantasy novel.

He realized his clothes had also been changed, starting to look at the silk-like tights and tunic. He felt a weight shift when he moved his back to bring his knees up and lean on them. Glancing over his shoulder, he found a pair of wings strapped to his body.

Danny tilts his head before he goes back to surveying the room, and his eyes catch the mirror of a light brown wooden vanity. His reflection looks back at him with carefully done make-up. He has dark navy blue eyeshadow but with glitter resting on them and his cheeks to remember stars, the twinkle-looking kind. White eyeliner was also used to paint sharp butterfly-looking wings from the edges of his eyes pointing towards his ears.

Metal cuffs shaped like pointed ears were added to his ears, and a pin was attached to his hair, which held tiny little daises, even in his few strands of hair.

A jeweled collar is wrapped around his neck as thick as his thumb, with the North Star resting just over his Adam's apple.

The bed he was sitting in had a mushroom top that spanned out with a bright red cap and white poke dots. He could not see it from underneath it, but it looked like his bed was the steam of the mushroom.

Oscar dressed him up like a garden fairy.

"This feels like it was way too much effort," Danny mutters, staring at his reflection. He looks annoyingly pretty, offended the style fits him so well. He thinks he would have made a way better vampire. At least Sam would find it funny. "I have to handle it to him, though; he knows his way around a make-p brush. Wonder if I can get out of here."

Danny tugs on the chains, pulling his limbs as far as they go before a nasty pop is heard, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop a scream. His left wrist is useless, having snapped. A wave of agony courses through him until his healing factor kicks in long enough to snap his bone back, but the soreness lingers.

Phantom was just out of reach still, hidden somewhere underneath his skin.

"Guess not," he sighs. A few minutes pass, and Danny fills the void by reciting the periodic table and their atom masses. But when he grows bored of that, he starts patting his knees to a random beat, making popping sounds with his mouth.

That leads to him singing, at first, a few words from actual songs, then it drifts into nonsense.

He finishes his little jingle for his sodas, creating a rip-off of commercial jingles from home, adding more ecstatic slaps against his knees in a fast-paced drum roll.

He attempts to think of a rhyme for soda, using words he believes aren't real when the wall across from his bed suddenly shifts.

Danny hadn't even realized the open space across from his bed was a door since it blended so well with the flowers that decorated the wall. Oscar stands in the doorway, still wearing his suit and smiling his oily grin. "How is my lovely little fairy?"

Danny waves at him. "Hey, fruitloop. Here to kill me?"

Oscar laughs, steps in, and closes the door behind him. He crosses the room to carefully caress his hair. Danny hisses, but it does nothing to deter the man, who sighs lovingly, "I could never harm you. You're the first of your kind in my collection. Usually, my fairies have lighter hair like those of the forest, but you're from the stars, aren't you? My lovely cosmos fairy."

"Hmmm," Danny squints, "I don't like this. Just kill me."

The man laughs, dragging Danny into a hug by the chain on his left arm. "You are so mischievous and defiant. I should have collected your kind years ago."

Danny allows the hug only to feel Oscar's pockets press against him. He doesn't feel like a key is on Oscar's person, nor does he feel like he is carrying a weapon.

Quick as a wipe, Danny throws out his fist, nailing the older man between the legs. Oscar wheezes, but not enough to make him stumble. He squeezes his arms tighter, encaging Danny, and the pulled chains limit his movements.

Danny struggles against him until his eyes land on the mirror again, watching as his kidnapper grabs the side of the watch. "No misbehaving."

One click later, the North Star lights up. Shockwaves of electricity rush through his body as a scream is ripped from his throat. Distantly, his mind flashes back to the last time he felt this sensation- when he opened the portal on himself. His body spams about as Oscar coos into his hair, muttering reassurances until the power dies.

"Good boy. Such a good boy.," Oscar mutters as Danny gasps against his chest. "A good fairy can be mischievous but not misbehave, right?"

Danny opens his mouth to snap at him when he notices a glow in the corner of his eye. He raises his hands, staring at the familiar sight of Phantom's glow, feeling his heart leap with joy as his healing kicks in. He wonders if he finally got his powers back.

He wills his body to flout, to sink through solid, or even to vanish from sight, but nothing happens. He gains a new piece of his other half, but not nearly enough to turn into him. There is only a glow to his skin for now.

Oscar obviously sees it, for he gasps with delight. "My star fairy, shining for me."

Danny headbutts him, but even though he causes the man's nose to bleed, all he does is laugh and pet Danny like a cat. Another button press has the chains retreating into the wall, flinging Danny back on the bed, spread out and unable to move.

The teen frowns when Oscar eventually leaves him, promising to build him a galaxy room soon. A few hours go by, and a dull ache builds up in his limbs, but eventually, the man returns, setting up some glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the top of his bed. He rewards Danny's "good" behavior by allowing the chains to grow, and he's back to being able to move on the bed.

Days go by like this when Danny attempts to force the man to use the button, wondering if he needs electricity to finally have Phantom back. Sadly, nothing seems to upset Oscar, who chalks every act of defiance as a characteristic of his "star fairy" genes.

Eventually, Danny grows bored, even though Oscar regularly brings him food and walks him to a bathroom where he is ordered to shower—thankfully without the man inside but attached to the chains of the shower walls—and retouches his make-up with great care. His clothes are always replaced with new, clean versions, even with the same design. He doesn't know how long he's been trapped here, but he is sure it's a few days.

"Can I make sodas?" He asks while Oscar is laying behind him, hugging Danny to his chest like the teen was a giant teddy bear. There is, thankfully, nothing intimate about it, just holding him while they slept. "I'm bored."

"Of course. Your kind needs mental stimulation rather than the physical kind, don't you? That's why you made your drinks before; you wanted humans to need your potions." The fruitloop mutters, tucking the galaxy blanket over Danny's shoulder. "I'll bring you things tomorrow."

The following days are a little more leisurely with his soda-making. Oscar had his men find Danny's motel, taking everything he needed to create his Mr. Flavor soda and sets up three tables next to the bed for him to work. Apparently, Danny is his calmest fairy, so the chains around his wrists are removed, and the ones around his ankles increase in length.

Danny can now freely move about the room to his heart's content. Oscar vanishes for hours on end but eventually always comes back every night to watch Danny work on his sodas. He brings glass bottles the two fill, and Oscar hauls them away to who knows where.

Danny can't really tell the time as there are no windows, and the only source of light is one large lamp hanging from the ceiling. However, Oscar's behavior has a pattern. The older man shuts off the giant lamp and lights some fairy lights, leaving the room in a dull glow.

He only does that when the pair go to bed, making him think it's nighttime. Danny carefully counts the hours from there.

One day, Oscar doesn't come back, as the hours drag to what he knows is nighttime. This is his chance. He takes his wooden spoon, the one he uses to mix the syrups in a bored flavor experiment, biting down on it as hard as he can.

Danny grabs his feet, bending them until two nasty cracks are heard. The wood muffles his scream, but even as his healing attempts to fix the damage, he yanks and pulls his limb until it slips through the metal cuffs.

Once they land on the ground with a clack, Danny is hit with a wave of nausea. His tunic is coated in sweat, his head is swimming, and he doesn't feel Phantom, but Danny is free.

A few minutes go by when his healing gets to work to fix the damage as he drags himself to where the door is. The chains had allowed him to wander there, but he never attempted to pry it open.

Today, he not only tries, he succeeds. His bare feet return to a healthy state, allowing him to stand in the doorway. Outside his colorful galaxy, slowly losing the first theme bedroom, is a long grey hallway filled with other doors.

Each door has a number painted in a large black font.

Danny glances both ways, sees no one, and sprints down the hallway on his right. He makes it all the way to the end, where all that's visible is a single door. He looks over his shoulder to where he came from and finds that his room is the last one in the hallway, showing no exit.

He gulps, praying this is the way out while carefully twisting the door numb as quietly as possible. Thankfully, no soul is in sight when he pushes the door open.

The first thing he realizes is that the space is much smaller than his cell, looking more like a broom closet than anything else. Inside, a chair is set up in front of multiple monitors that are all handing over a large desk. Two file cabinets are on the side, but that's all the room there is for.

Squinting, Danny realizes it's a security system. Getting closer, he watches as various light brown hair people dressed as fairies are shown chained up, moving about their rooms frantically and fearfully.

They are all forest themes with a number on the corner of the screen. Danny realizes he knows those numbers and glances back over his shoulder. Sure enough, the numbers are in the same font and color as the ones on the screens.

Well.

Danny hums, rummaging through the office in search of keys. He is alight with dying, but he doubts the other people Oscar has kidnapped are Halfas in waiting. There is nothing on the desk, so he turns his attention to the file cabinets

Inside are deranged notes on fairies' habits. Records of their diet behavior and a shockingly large amount of physical exercise for each kidnapped person are documented.

Apparently, where Danny, a star fairy, needs mental simulation, the forest fairies need to do HIT training mixed in with random types of Dance to keep them happy and healthy.

Number 4 was tap dancing, while Number 7 was doing ballet. It was so unfair. He would have loved to develop some muscle here, making his new desire to break into the grid storage easier.

Maybe he could shock Phantom back. The next drawer has his bottled sodas, which clack against each other. A note about storing his potions for future healing is on top of them, and Danny's face twitches.

Fruitloop.

He considers the drinks before deciding the other captives may need an energy boost to help them leg it when he sets them free. He grabs a premade hanging water cooler, swinging it over his shoulder after checking to make sure his sodas are inside.

Eventually, Danny finds a ring of keys at the bottom of the last drawer. After confirming that the exact numbers are painted on them, he rushes out of the office. He arrives at number 1 with a cheer and flings it open.

A man in his mid-twenties jumps a good foot off the lofted tree-shaped bed. He is also dressed as a fairy, but instead of Danny's blue and purple hues, this one is in different shades of brown, and his face is clean.

A similar color to the one Danny wears is wrapped around his neck, but the centerpiece is a large oak tree instead of a star.

Danny grins, holding out a bottle of cola. "Hey man, want a drink?"

The stranger only has chains around his wrists, which means he can scramble to the back of the wall the second Danny speaks, "What?"

"Oh, by the way, I'm doing a prison break. You in?" He laughs, swinging the keys around his other hand.

Hours later, Number 1—he refused to give Danny his name after the boy attempted to rip off the collar on their necks. Apparently, explaining that he wanted to feel the zap all over his body instead of wanting to set Number 1 free was "alarming"—it had helped him free all nine captives.

The Halfa was the youngest among the group, as everyone else was at least older than twenty, though it looked like ages ranged from early twenties to late forties.

The only things they shared were chestnut hair and earth-themed fairy costumes. Danny stood out for more than just his manic grin and bubbly personality. He offered one of his sodas at every rescue.

Everyone had accepted a drink from the overly cheerful child, who eyed Danny with distrust but was willing to follow him through the last door. It led to a ladder drilled into the wall. Danny volunteered to go up first, ensuring the coast was clear after forcing a latch to open above him.

Oscar had stashed them in a bunker far outside Gotham's city limits. It took some coaxing, but Dannt got the group to wander through the darkness, holding hands so as not to lose anyone. His powers weren't entirely back, but he's always been able to see a bit better in the dark than his friends.

He chatted the whole time, offering more bottles whenever someone grew too anxious. He spent twenty minutes describing all the flavors he made for his sodas, taking careful steps through small dips in the uneven ground. It seemed the bunker was on a hill, isolated from people.

Eventually, they caught sight of a road, and everyone breathed a breath of relief when a car came into view. It was three loops of curling roadways down below. Still, it passed under the only light post, showing a sleek black model that indicated wealth.

Number 3- who also refused to tell him her name- was in the process of thanking the heavens that someone could help them when Danny demanded that everyone drop.

It was gratifying when they all did it without a second thought.

"That's Oscar's vehicle. He drove it at the restaurant." He hisses as the car rounds the cliff's side, nearing them. The air grows cold as the rest of the victims try to hide in the shadows.

It won't work. Despite the fact that they are on high hills, there is no coverage. The second Oscar's headlights were within reach so he would see them.

Danny considers the sobbing Number 3, her once joy now gone, and realizes she doesn't want to be found. Unlike him, if she gets hurt, she won't unlock the powers that had once made him unbreakable.

He takes off his cooler and hands it over to Number 1 with a soft command: "Stay low, and no matter what, don't try to save me."

"What-"

Danny stands from his hiding spot, flinging himself over the edge of the cliffside in a familiar leap and landing with a loud thump on the lower hill. He drags himself to his feet, running in the opposite direction of the group, singing at the top of his lungs his new Mr. Falvor jingle.

Oscar's headlights fall over him as the man hits the brakes. A second of silence later, the car turns on its wheels with a loud screech as Danny rushes to the edge of the second loop.

"My Star! What are you doing!?" Oscar cries, but the tone sounds amused as Danny flings himself over the edge with a cheer.

"Come catch me! I want to play a game!" He calls out, ignoring the ache of his knees, and takes off in a run the second he lands. He hears the roar of the motor as Oscars round the side, foot on the accelerator, and laughs alongside Danny.

He barely makes the leap when the vehicle smashes against the road railing. Oscar had attempted to run him over.

"Oh, you naughty star fairy!" The car is thrown in reverse and starts down the much longer road as the man driving it sings Mr.Flavor's jingle. Danny doesn't look towards the victims, worried he'll give them away, as he whoops loudly and takes over into a sprint.

The longer road bought him time, but now it's just him against a speeding car. There is no light down here, and he forces himself to be as fast as possible. He can hear Oscar getting closer, but he pushes through, wanting to put distance between them and the other kidnapped people.

He uses the fact there are trees alongside the road to his advantage, but beyond that is a cliffside and the crashing waves of the sea. He could jump, but even if that brought back Phantom, Oscar would potentially cut his losses and turn back, catching the hiding group. He weaves through the barks as Oscar drives behind him, yelling about punishments and naughty fairies.

He gets pretty far, he thinks, the hill with the bunker long behind him, looking much smaller when Danny runs out of trees. Then it's just him and the open space. Oscar's headlights bathe him as the man jumps off the road, speeding until the motor sounds like a roaring monster.

Danny can't outrun him, so he doesn't. He stops, twists on his heel, and spreads his arms wide open. He doesn't close his eyes as the lights get closer, and he sees Oscar's mad, flushed face seconds before the metal rams into him.

"KID!" A horrified cry fills the air as Danny is thrown from the windshield. It's like time has slowed down.

He manages to turn his head in time to see multiple police cars come to a stop just a few feet away from him, a man in the process of throwing himself out of his car, one arm stretched toward Danny.

His face is twisted in horror, but Danny recognizes his eyes. It's the masked man who felt guilty the day he was kidnapped. Ha. He knew he was an undercover cop.

Danny hits the ground hard, rolling three times before he lies broken and tired. His skin is glowing, and his hair puffs up a little, like it was electrocuted, but that's the only real chain besides the multiple wounds on his body.

Phantom's powers are still not entirely back.

He feels numb as the background noise of the police swarming Oscar is heard, with one of the Gotham heroes leading the charge with a war cry. Danny can't bring himself to turn his head but watches Red Robin fly by on his motorbike, aiming the front wheel hood of Oscar's car.

He uses that as a springboard to launch himself through the front windshield- already cracked by Danny's body, and attacking the driver like a beast. Police near the car, all with guns pointed and shouting.

Someone drops to their knees in front of Danny blocking his view. It's the same undercover cop who is talking fast and desperate, but Danny can't really understand him because of the ringing in his head. He feels his healing factor finally start, but it's much slower than normal.

Hands carefully turn him onto his back so they can put some pressure on the bleeding coming from his neck. Glass had smashed against his flesh there, and Danny hadn't even noticed.

The man's desperate face fades in and out of focus until his healing finally pops his ears, and sound rushes through his senses.

"-going to be alright!" The man is screaming. "Hang on, kid. Hang on. What's the ETA on the medics!?"

"Five minutes! Keep putting pressure on his wounds, Grayson!" someone shouts back out of Danny's eyesight. Hmm, dark spots are appearing in his vision now. He was going to pass out soon.

He should tell Officer Grayson about the rest of the Numbers before he does.

"The Others...."He coughs, spitting some blood. The man's face spams.

"Don't talk. Save your strength," he commands, but Danny ignores him, forcing his hand to raise and point to where the group was hiding.

"The others...are hiding....I lead....Oscar away.....from them. They need help.....please." He babbles, watching tears gather in the man's blue eyes. He blames himself—Danny can see it clearly as day—for putting the Halfa in this position the day he helped the rest kidnap him.

Obviously, he needed to do it to find the rest, but that doesn't stop the guilt from eating him alive right in front of Danny. He forces his face to twist into a smile.

"Don't be sad....I told you....I wanted to be a ghost." His words are a bit clearer as his healing throbs around his throat, but it's all he can handle. He fells himself, fading as the look of devastation clouds Officer Grayson's face. Just as Danny passes out, he mutters. "Delete Oscar's footage of my soda making. It's my secret formula."

He surrenders the blissful darkness as the ambulance sirens fill the air.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader

Summary: When the bat babies experience nightmares, Azriel coaxes you back to bed with reassurance that he and your other two mates will take care of it. Who better to protect them from monsters under the bed than their powerful fathers?

inspired by the song stolas sings to his daughter in helluva boss

Azriel jolts awake.

Something wasn’t right. His shadows located in the nursery ward sends tremors of agitation.

First things first, he checks to make sure that you were still asleep beside him. There was so much room when Rhysand and Cassian weren't laying in it too. They were up late finishing documents, Azriel taking it upon himself to cuddle up to you for bed. Your day had been full. You had meetings of your own to attend to and councils to hear out. That was a pro to having three mates, there were plenty of babysitters to keep an eye out for your rambunctious triplets.

They were at that sweet age where they were experimenting with their powers and the extent their wings could take them. Lacking wings yourself, you found it tricky to catch them when they misbehave. They could simply fly off, deaf to your half-hearted threats.

Confirming you're still sound asleep, Azriel leaps from the bed and hastily rushes out of the master bedroom. Nearly bumping into Rhysand and Cassian who'd left Rhysand's office in a similar hurry.

Wasting no time, they cleared the quick trek to the nursery wing of the house and throw the door open.

Two beds were empty. Their occupants were huddled together in the middle bed. Dagen, Rian and Baila cling to one another, small little sobs echoing in the dark. It broke their hearts.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Cassian takes the initiative to enter the room and kneel beside their bed. Soothingly rubbing Dagen's back, the little boy releases Rian and instead buries himself in Cassian's expansive chest. The General nearly breaks down himself. Tufts of signature shadows remind Cassian of fuzzy black lint as he brushes his callused fingers past them to envelope Dagen.

"Papa-" Dagen sniffs.

"The room is clear." Azriel murmurs to Rhysand. When that potential threat is cleared, they rush to the other two kids who scramble to jump into their arms.

Baila, face covered in tears and snot, wipes her face on Rhysand's shirt. He didn't care. If it made his sweet girl tell him what happened then so be it.

Through a congested nose, Rian lifts his head from Azriel's shoulder to whimper "It happened again. We all had the same bad dream."

Oh.

The Bat Boys exchange worrisome glances. They'd hoped it was a one time thing. Their first joint bad dream happened five years ago when they were three. It was happening more often now the older they got. Madja didn't possess any helpful information.

"And it was the same one from last time?" Azriel brushes Rian's bangs out of his face. Rian nods and lets Az clean his face with the hem of his night shirt.

Cassian and Azriel avoid Rhysand's gaze this time. The dream was always the same. The triplets couldn't find Rhysand. They search far and wide through Prythian but its like Rhysand vanished into air. Only ever Rhysand was the subject of this dream.

Pressing her small hand against Rhysand's chest, the little girl is relieved when she feels his heart thump back against her palm. Her daddy was still here. It was just a dream and couldn't harm her. Her daddy was there and she would never let him out of her sight again.

Rhysand kisses the crown of her head.

I'm right here, starlight.

She nods and relaxes in his arms.

The fatherly trio spend some time talking to them. They were still reluctant to go back to bed.

"Put your shoes and jackets on." Rhys sets Baila down. "I've got something to show you now that you're old enough to fly some distance."

That perks them up. Happily they obey Rhysand and follow the three males outside of the townhouse. Night still hung in the sky. Multitudes of stars twinkle back down, glittering against the dark.

Dagen and Baila unfurl their leathery wings, enjoying the air that kisses the delicate membrane that separated the 'fingers' of their wings. Rian, taking after Rhysand, conjures his wings with ease to match his siblings and fathers.

"Stay close to us, alright?" Cassian instructs, taking on his general persona. This act caused them to giggle a little bit, knowing how unserious Cassian was a majority of the time.

Azriel reminds them "And if you get tired, let us know. We can't having you falling out of the sky."

"Your mother would kill us." Rhysand jokes (though if he ever did happen to let one of your children die under his watch, you most certainly would end him).

Six pairs of wings take off into the sky. Strong and self-assured.

Baila is mesmerized of Velaris' aerial view. Her fingers traced over the lines of rivers and peaks of buildings. Velaris' inhabitants liked to call her the Princess of Stars.

Dagen and Rian dart around each other in a playful chase, uncaring of the destination.

After a while, the six of them find a place to perch and rest. Each triplet finds a comfortable spot to catch their breath on the lap of their fathers. Baila cuddles up with Azriel, who gently places a kiss on the crown of her dark head. "Are your wings tired, princess?"

"A little." Her small mouth opens into an 'o' shape as Baila releases a yawn.

"Papa," Dagen tugs on Rhysand's shirt. The fluffy whisps of dark shadows that cling to his wings tickle the underside of Rhys' chin. "Why do we always have those scary dreams about you?"

Simpering behind Cassian's chest, Rian nods in agreement. "I don't like them."

Rhysand purses his lips. He didn't have the heart to tell his children that those dreams were perhaps premonitions of what would happen to the high lord in the future. It may not be true, but the nature and frequency of the dreams plaguing his children couldn't be ignored. Glancing at his brothers for help, Cassian offers him a sympathetic shrug.

His silence is enough to scare Rian as the young fae stares at his father. "If we keep having them. . . will they come true?"

"You mustn't think those things," Azriel whispers, finding himself the only one of the three males who could respond. "They are just dreams." His words felt dead and heavy on his tongue, though. He shared the same sentiment with Rhysand. None of this was a coincidence.

Rhysand holds Dagen closer to himself in a protective grip and lets out a low hum that settles down his children. "When you're scared and you don't know where I am, you must remember, no matter what happens to me, I will never be far away from my special little starlings. The three of you will always be protected. Papa Cass, Papa Az, Mama, and so many others will lay their life on the line to ensure your safety."

"Always." Cassian murmurs, his lips pressing to the back of Rian's head.

The stars above heard this promise and took it as a vow. For it would be put to the test in the very near future.

[we-are-maladaptive]

little dreamer ♡

contents: fluffy stuff, a little bit a children mentioned characters: katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima (separate) authors note: hello (╥﹏╥) very sorry for being inactive recently!! my mother's ex boyfriend is in jail for attempted homocide and ive been helping her get it together since then ( not even kidding ) so therefore here is a hello present from me as an apology ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Husband Katsuki, who sits with you on the porch swing in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows across the yard. The scent of jasmine fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant laughter from children playing nearby. He wraps a cozy blanket around your shoulders, pulling you close as the evening chill begins to set in. You sip on hot cocoa, marshmallows melting into sweet swirls, and talk about the little moments that made your day special. His arm around you feels like the safest place in the world, and as the first stars begin to appear in the twilight sky, he softly hums a tune that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the universe.

Husband Izuku, who wakes you gently on lazy Sunday mornings with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of birds singing outside your window. He brings you breakfast in bed, a tray laden with your favorite pastries, fruits, and a delicate vase holding a single rose. As you share bites of buttery croissant and sip on coffee, you talk about dreams you had the night before and make plans for the day ahead. His fingers trace patterns on your arm as he listens, his eyes full of a love that makes you feel cherished and safe. Later, you both linger in bed, wrapped in the warmth of the morning sun and each other’s embrace, content to let the world outside fade away.

Husband Shouto, who takes you on evening walks along the beach, where the sky blazes with the colors of the setting sun, painting the waves with hues of orange and pink. As you stroll hand in hand, you collect smooth pebbles and seashells, giggling like children whenever you find a particularly beautiful one. You sit together on the sand, watching as the stars begin to twinkle into existence, and he wraps a blanket around your shoulders to keep you warm. His voice is soft and tender as he whispers stories of your future, of a house by the sea and children who run along the shore, their laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. You lean into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart and the promise of a lifetime of such evenings together.

Husband Denki, who plans a cozy movie night at home, the living room transformed into a haven of comfort with soft pillows and warm blankets scattered everywhere. He dims the lights and lights a few scented candles, their flickering flames casting a soft glow. You snuggle together on the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn and exchanging quiet laughter over inside jokes. As the movie plays, he holds you close, his fingers gently stroking your hair. The outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect moment. When the credits roll, you find yourselves talking late into the night, about anything and everything, his voice a soothing melody that lulls you into a peaceful sleep, your head resting on his shoulder.

Husband Eijirou, who dances with you in the living room, the only light coming from the flickering flames in the fireplace, casting a golden glow over everything. The soft strains of a love song fill the room, and he holds you close, your feet moving in a slow, gentle rhythm. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you feel the warmth of his touch seep through your clothes. As the song ends, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache with love. He presses a kiss to your forehead, murmuring words of devotion, and you know in that moment that this is where you belong—dancing in his arms, forever and always.

[mononijikayu]

cure — ryomen sukuna.

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

GENRE: alternate universe - alien stage au;

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

WORD COUNT: 16k words

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

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was Ryomen Sukuna.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna was quick to notice. 

With those sharp eyes of his, he always noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows furrowed. “But I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just wanted to sing together with Sukuna forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you did. You always trusted him.

How could you not trust him?

He was all you had in this wretched place.

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just a moment ago, he was something.

And now, he lay there dead, nothing.

Nothing but a pile of blood and death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a death sentence.

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

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

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

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

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

"But... why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryomen Sukuna never listened when it came to you.

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

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

Sukuna was truly bitter about the failure.

Grievous because you were still here, trapped.

Mournful because both of you could have been free.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The word hit you like a blow. 

Separately. 

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

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

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

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

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

And then he was gone.

His guardian follows behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that someone was you.

He chose you, only you.

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

The votes quickly came in.

He turned to his opponent. 

And he watched, his eyes cold.

The red spilled on his face.

Ryomen Sukuna had won the round.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

Then came the announcement.

The one that would change everything.

You were going to face each other.

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

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

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

You and Sukuna were going to face each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked him softly. 

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

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

But there will never be enough time. 

There will never be another time.

You cannot escape this time, not like this.

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To him, this only ends one way. 

If someone must survive, it has to be you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stage completion.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled back at him. “Good.”

[yutassweetangel]

twinkle twinkle little star~(BLURB)

warning: FLUFF DUH, cuddling, friends to lovers? afab!reader x sleep deprived!yuta, nothing else really lmao a/n: omg omg omg!!! ITS BEEN LONG BRO- I WAS MAKING TWO FANFICS (gojo and yuta) AT THE SAME TIME. AND I'M NOT EVEN CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH ONE MAYBE THE GOJO ONE BUT YUTA ONE AHHHHH SO A QUICK BLURB EEEKKKK

anyone who knows yuta would know him very well for one thing—— he was a sleep deprived fool. he would stay up all night, stressed about who knows what.

and you were really worried about him. imagine waking up, and coming to class everyday sleep deprived. you sympathized for the man and tried to help him with his sleep deprivation.

you started with pills. which unfortunately didn't work.. next you got him a more comfortable pillow. that should work, right? it almost did, but then he was worried whether he might sleep so well that he'll come to classes late. man this guy has anxiety....

the next was a plushie.

failed.

massage chair? made him comfortable, but no.

you tried literally everything to make this man sleep, and was about to give up until, just like a light bulb, something switched in your head. you had an idea.

——————————————————————————————————

"y/n, are you sure this is going to work?" yuta asked. you just barged into his room and said you had a plan to make him fall asleep. "yes, yes, now lay down and close your eyes." yuta, who was already visible confused, arched a brow before complying to your words. yuta laid flat, resting both arms on his stomach and his eyes shut.

"listen, y/n, I appreciate you trying to help me, but you don't have to-" yuta gets interrupted when he feels the warmth of another body next to him. his eyes flew open and he immediately turned into a blushing mess when he saw you cuddling him with your head on his chest and one arm wrapped up behind him. "y/nwhatareyou-" yuta hitches. the warmth of both your bodies made yuta suddenly feel drowsy. suddenly, you started to sing a lullaby that yuta was awe-to familiar with. "twinkle, twinkle, twinkle star~ how I wonder what you are—"

"pfft." you stopped singing and your frowned, knitting your brows together. "is something funny, Mr.okkotsu?" you said, holding back your laugh to try and be serious. "no, no—"

yuta turned his body to face you, your faces now inches away from each other, one move could make your lips connect. "your singing is beautiful. the song is just—" yuta put a finger under his chin, looking away to think of the right word to use "funny?" you laughed, beautifully, your breathe touching his face and he smiled at this. making you laugh gave him a little pride.

"funny?" you repeated his words. "yes, funny. its just so, you know, old? so its funny." you chucked. "God, twinkle, twinkle little stars is funny now?" you asked and yuta nodded slowly. "well, it did help a bit. I feel slightly sleepy." yuta faked a yawn and you rolled your eyes. "shut up." you said before yawning. "it seems your the tired one." yuta shifted closer and pulled you in for a hug. "was your plan to cuddle me to sleep?" yuta asked, teasing a bit. "yeah.." you asked, slowly loosing consciousness. "it's was great idea cause its working." yuta said. he watched as you closed your breathe and your chest heaved up and down. yuta smiled down at you, slowly falling asleep himself. he shifted even closer, closing any gap between you two.

"twinkle, twinkle little star... how i wonder what you are.."

divider credits to: @/enchanthings

[revelboo]

Bad Idea Pt 2

TFP Soundwave x Reader- fragile

• There’s music, halting and barely more than a whisper. Someone singing in a rasping, hoarse voice. Slowly, systems come back online, internal diagnostics taking stock of the damage and how much has healed. The singing hitches, broken and achingly sad. Helm lifting, Soundwave feels Lazerbeak’s claws shifting on his side, the small drones thoughts a snarl of annoyance and relief. The relief obvious, but the annoyance? Tendrils shifting to begin pushing himself up, he freezes. There’s something soft and warm against him, thoughts that aren’t his or Lazerbeak’s brushing against his processor and growing more urgent with his movement. For a moment those cascading emotions crash over him and it’s overwhelming- almost crippling. Big frame shuddering, he pushes up further, helm dipping to stare at the human laying there beside him.

• You’d started singing just to keep yourself grounded, because it’s either distract yourself or scream. Somehow, your terrified brain had settled on the singsong nonsense of old nursery rhymes. You’d been singing them to yourself for hours, your throat sore. There’s a stick under your butt digging into you, pine needles in your hair, and a spiky metal monster crouching over you, that dark screen where a face should be reflecting your own horrified expression. Because it’s awake. The metal death bird drops its head, beak open to peck at your face and you throw up your arms bracing for pain. That doesn’t come. You peek through your arms to find the spiky robot carefully nudging away the bird with a ropy tentacle. That faceless head turns back your way and eyes or not, it’s staring right at you. Pointy, cryptid robot sees you.

• Wide eyes stare up at him, the human frozen and silent. Except for its thoughts. Those scream through his processor in sharp little sparks of pain, shredding through his own thoughts. Hurting, because that visceral fear is too close to memories he keeps locked away. The smell of energon and ozone. The thumping of peds and roar of a crowd. Of exhaustion and fear and desperation all tangled together as he faced an opponent. No. Helm lowering, he offers up an icon on his visor. A distraction.

• A single purple music note pops up on the black glass on its face. Pulses faintly. Reappears bigger. You can’t breathe as your mind scrambles for meaning. What’s it want? Is it asking you to keep singing or asking why you were singing? Its back bows, long talons clawing the ground. Those metal tentacles lash the ground around both of you, smacking into the dirt hard enough to pepper you with soil and leaves and you begin to tremble. Its face moves closer to yours, your breath fogging the screen for a second before you lurch back. That music note pulses again and it’s a demand.

• So, despite the ridiculousness of it, you sing the first thing that pops into your head. Sprawled in the dirt in the woods under the pointy monster, you sing it Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, your eyes tearing up, and almost choking on the words as you try not to scream or start laughing at the ludicrousness of it. Especially as big and scary sags in what almost seems like relief. Your voice hitches again when that visor bumps your shoulder and neck, the pointy chevron on its head far too close to your face for comfort. Death bird cocks its head at you and its stare is pure judgement.

• The chaos eases and he slowly relaxes. The gladiator fights once more pushed to that dark corner of his processor where they can’t hurt as bad. They still do, but it’s an old, familiar pain. The human is still singing, voice breaking with little shivers and gasps, but they’re focused on the song, not their fear. It’s still there, that chaos, but it’s manageable even as it pulls at him. Such a fearful thing. The rapid thump of their heart and sharp breaths, plucking at him. A fearful little thing needing safety. He remembers this feeling, remembers this pain. And accepts it.

Previous Next

[xoluvx]

rough day; b.eilish

smut

the entire day she couldn't stop thinking about you. she'd had the shittiest day. everything was falling apart. the visuals were off sync. she missed her cues. she was slowly spiraling and she needed to release all her frustration. she needed to feel herself again.

there was only way she could do that and that was you.

when she got home the door slammed behind her. she didn't say anything. she didn't make her presence known like she usually did with her cute little sing song voice vibrating through the halls. she flipped her hair to the side. licked her lips and treaded up the stairs trying to find you. searching every place you could be.

until she finally found you in the bathroom. you were wiping your face; clearly getting ready for bed. you made eye contact through the mirror. her eyes wild. brows furrowed. she had a mean frustrated expression on her face as she slammed the door behind her. it startled you.

"you okay, baby?" you asked still looking at her through the mirror putting the towel down with concern. she didn't utter a single word. her arm hooked in yours and turned you in a swift movement. it all happened so quick. before you could say anything else you were against the bathroom door. her leg between your thighs. hands cupping your face pulling you close. lips meeting in a hungry kiss.

"i just wanna fuck the shit out of you," billie muttered against your lips cupping your jaw. she tilted your head to the side. lips sloppy on your neck as her hot breath seeped into you skin. she grabbed a hold of your leg bringing it around her waist as you pushed your hips off the wall pressing on her groin with a whimper.

"take your anger out on me," you huffed wrapping your arms around her shoulders. fingers tangling in her hair pushing your body closer unable to breath. she was ravenous. ready to devour every inch of your body. to take her anger out you. to destroy you in an attempt to build herself back up. you were so willing; offering yourself up to her.

"i'm yours to use how you please," you whispered in her ear and she snarled biting your neck eliciting a moan that bounced off the walls and infiltrated her body only making her more rabid and feral.

her hand wrapped around your neck as your lips parted. brows furrowed in pleasure as she pushed you flat against the wall. you reached for the doorknob trying to find something to steady yourself with. something to tie you down to earth as she looked at you with hellish eyes and a wicked smile.

your lips met in a messy kiss. tongues touching so sloppily you were practically drooling on her chin. licking every corner of her mouth as she groaned. her grip around your neck tightened. you whimpered and squirmed as she kissed you more aggressively. her other hand trailed down the side of your body. tracing every dip and curve until it was slithering between your legs.

your too small sleep shorts were damp. your arousal seeping through the thin fabric as she cupped your pussy. she moaned into your mouth at the touch of it and you melted into her wanting more. wrapping your hand around the one clinging to your neck, you pled for more. pleading for her to let it all out.

she wasn't interested in foreplay. she wanted you desperately. she needed you desperately. she slipped two fingers in and you were already putty in her hands. ready for whatever else she had to offer.

she wasn't gentle. far from it. her fingers pumped into your pussy so fast you were overcome with feelings you couldn't begin to comprehend. as your eyes closed, your legs started shaking. there was something in the way her fingers curled that was magical. stars were twinkling behind your lids as you choked on your moans.

when you opened your eyes, she was biting her lip watching you closely. she'd been watching the entire time. loving the way you reacted to her touch. three fingers deep and you were 1clinging to her shoulders rutting your hips against her digits.

she unfurled her fingers from your neck and you gasped for air clinging to the back of her head. fingers laced in her hair. her lips found your neck and her tongue swirled on your skin so warm and satisfying.

as her lips wrapped around your neck, her fingers curled around the strap of your tank top tugging on the string until it hung from your shoulder. her fingertips danced along the hem of the tank dipping in the valley of your breasts until she was tugging on the fabric so hard you heard the seams tear. your breasts broke free and you cried out when her teeth sunk into your supple skin.

her tongue ran over your nipple harshly. it rotated rapidly before capturing your sensitive bud in her mouth. she sucked until you felt like it'd bruise. she bit until you were shrieking and closing your legs around her hand. fingers still fucking you.

you pushed your chest off the door. eyes rolling to the back of your head. fingers gripping her hair. hips grinding on her fingers. billie's lips trailed down your clothed torso. sticking to the fabric as she bit on it and ran further down until she was tugging on the elastic of your shorts with her teeth. pulling on it then releasing it with a snap. it stung so good. it made you moan and push your hips in her face.

she wasn't doesn't with you. she was just getting started. she was only about 30% herself again. she needed to fuck you every way possible..

..bent over the counter. facing the mirror. gripping the towel rack. on the floor. in the shower. you were going to need it after all the unholy acts she was going to commit.

diaween 2024 🧡

[planetsage]

NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪷 ANYTHING 𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── kento nanami 𝜗𝜚 .

<- SAVE ?

contains. sfw, angst ish but only bc ……. but overall fluff. creator note. this was a request from @ateohsixxxx. i listened to ‘vibe with me’ on repeat writing this and a few other songs. hopefully you like <33 sorry if i totally butchered what you had in mind this started off as smut then pure angst then .. this so! also tagging @lacyohlacyyy bc youre the biggest nanami luver ik!

ADD A COMMENT

the foamy ocean waves gently lapped against the darkened shore, white crests illuminated by the final breaths of daylight. each wave woven by mother nature’s gentle hands carries with it a soft sizzle as it caresses the shore, leaving behind a glistening film that tenderly kisses each shell, each grain of sand with its elements. the soft hum of their rhythm blends beautifully, creating a lullaby—nature’s lullaby— that strokes at your sandy ear.

the other rests against nanami’s chest where his heart chimes in to sing a chorus against his ribs. your body curled into his. intertwined.

cool air that carries a salty tang fights the faint smell of your sunscreen for dominance over your senses, sweeping over you, blooming goosebumps, but nanami’s warm embrace soothes and chases them away. his arm draped over your frame, fingers delicately tracing patterns and shapes over the little hairs that stand on your back.

peaking over the flat line of the horizon, the sun sets and dips, leaving an afterglow that basks the sky in an array of ambers and roses and amethysts.

you had always known of nanami’s dream to travel to malaysia.

late at night, in the quiet intimacy, when your slowed breaths tricked him into thinking he’d lost you to sleep’s tender grasp, he’d kiss your head and whisper against your scalp how he wished you two could disappear to the little country. he’d build a quaint beach house that overlooks the sea, where you two could grow old and sit in creaky little rocking chairs— you clacking needles together, knitting some colorful scarf as your grandchildren’s light feet padded through the living room.

family.

for your 1 year anniversary, you brought part of his dream to fruition. a one-week getaway, a promise to the future. a gesture filled with love and hope. an attempt to capture the essence of his dream, if only for a short while.

the setting sun brushed its last few strokes of gold against the sky before letting the stars take over and peek through. nothing else existed outside of this moment. outside of him.

as if reading your thoughts, he shifted. pulling you closer … closer. his breath warm against your hair, “thank you”

until then, the silence had been filled by breaths that slowly fell in sync. by families that squealed, packing up, loading their cars with sandy feet and arms, and sleepy, sun-kissed children. noisy seagulls chased by eager dogs dragging grinning owners down the shore.

you smiled up at him, your eyes reflecting the twinkling stars that decorated the velvet sky. “you don’t have to thank me, ken.” your reply is soft. he makes you soft. “this is as much for me as it is for you. i wanted us to just … have a place where we could forget everything else, y’know? even if it’s just for a little while.”

“i know,” his voice barely rang above a whisper. as if speaking any louder would break the fragility of the tender moment.

“but it means more than you can imagine, my love. being here with you... it’s something i’ve always wanted, but never— never thought i’d have.”

there’s a faint crack in his voice. a fissure in the cadence you’ve only known to soothe, and love and reassure.

and an ache tugs your heart, a deep, deep throb mirroring his own. you gently reach up, cupping his warm cheek in your hand so softly, holding his actual beating heart, “we can have it. one day, we can make this our reality. we can have the little house by the sea, the— the family. everything.”

nanami’s gaze traces onto the shore, the brown in his eyes reflecting the way the waves dance and gather in solace.

the scene before him blurs.

“do you really believe that?”

“i do”

the night continued to wrap you both in a warm embrace and his face grew soft hearing your words, how reassured you sounded. how confident in him. in your dream for the both of you. deeply set wrinkles smooth and he nods, “mm. i want to believe in a future where we can have everything we’ve dreamed of, too”

“then let’s make it happen.”

with a faint smile, nanami leaned down, letting his lips purse and press against yours softly. tenderly.

“i love you,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of all the emotions he can’t quiet put into words; there just aren’t any in the dictionary that could ever, ever, ever convey in purest form how much you mean to him, “more than anything in this world.”

“i love you too,”

the stars continued to shine their ancient light upon you and the ocean continued to whisper its eternal lullaby; you lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“always.”

© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.

[petriwriting]

You Deserve Better - JJ Maybank X Reader

Requested.

A/N: Not my best work but It was a good writing exercise.

Your boyfriend, Todd, was anything but loving and caring. He had money, so you would get gifts, flowers sometimes, and expensive jewelry. but lately it seemed like you were just an accessory, something to make him look better. someone to bring to family events and parties, although he would pay you no mind once you had been introduced to people. He was also a heavy drinker, and there were rumors that he did drugs when he and his friends went boating together. It started as a decent relationship, he was cute and tall and funny. But lately he had been wrapped up in what you tenderly referred to as "Kook Bullshit." 

You were fortunate, you lived comfortably. you certainly didn't come from millionaires. But because of this you were referred to as a Kook, even if you didn't consider yourself to be like the others. You began going to parties and meeting all kinds of new people, particularly a group of Pogues. almost instantly you took a liking to JJ Maybank. His golden blonde hair and sea blue eyes were enchanting, and despite your relationship it was an irresistible temptation. You kept it quiet, and secretive. 

You were currently waiting on the edge of the beach with your phone. You opened your phone and were met with its bright screen contrasting the darkness of the night. The wind chill tousled your hair. you searched for his contact. Blondie. and sent him a quick text.

Busy rn?

             Nah

pick me up?

              otw

You smiled. It was a guilty pleasure, you enjoyed spending time with JJ, he was sweet and funny and he wasn't abusive, or rude. He paid attention to you and listened to you talk. You sent him your location and waited in the darkness for another few minutes, listening to the chatter and music from the beach party that was not far from where you stood. After a while the twinie came rolling up, JJ was driving and he rolled down the window. "uh, Uber for Y/N?" he joked. you laughed and got into the passenger seat. He must not have been far when you sent your location to him. 

"So no grand plans tonight huh?" he asked as he drove further from the island towards a more secluded area. "Not interested in the party." you explained. It was lame, some kids had stolen a bunch of beer and were all drunk playing beer pong in the sand. "Where's the boyfriend on this lovely evening?" he asked you. you sighed and looked over at him. It was stupid, but the moonlight made his eyes twinkle... "He's staying in charleston with his friends." JJ nodded. He always asked about Todd. It was strange, but deep down he just cared about you, and wanted to make sure you were in a safe situation. Being a victim of physical violence himself, he hated to see it happen to others. "So he's out of town?" he asked quietly. "Yes." you replied. 

JJ pulled up to an abandoned field, mostly dirt and sand. The weather was nice and it was a pretty delicate evening with the moon shining down and the area being quiet, all you could hear were the southern cicada's singing their songs and the subtle sound of waves lapping not far beyond the clearing. You hopped out of the van, and JJ followed suit and helped you on top of the van, where he had just laid out an old beach blanket. He laid on his back and you did the same. looking up you saw how clear and bright the stars were. 

"Thanks for picking me up." you begin. "I've had a lot of stuff going on and I just needed to get away." you admit. JJ looks over at you understandingly. His hand brushes yours, barely touching but not holding hands. "It's alright. I get it," he retorts, running his fingers through his hair with his other hand. "I like to get away sometimes too." he says.

For some reason, the air is thick with tension. You'd been seeing each other and hooking up in the twinkie for 4 months now. It became a routine. After several moments spent in silence JJ spoke finally. "I've been thinkin." he says. His voice is straight to the point. "You should leave Todd." he states flatly. Slightly offended, you turn to look at him. "JJ you know why I can't." you say. "Who cares what he says?" he pleads. "He-" you swallow hard, a gulp. "He might hurt me." you admit, your eyes are glazed over, embarrassed almost. "Rafe told me he saw him doing coke with his buddies. They trashed some expensive yachts, and they were high off their asses playing with a gun they found." 

JJ is silent for a minute. "You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you right?" he says finally. "I know but this whole thing just feels wrong. What if he finds out?" you continue. "He might try and go after you. I don't want that." you state clearly. "Well he can try, but he won't get to touch me." JJ says confidently. you went back and forth at the idea, you wanted out, but not where you could be hurt. you also felt safe with JJ, you knew that the islanders from the cut stuck together no matter what. You were like an honorary pogue. "fine."

You finally say, pulling out your phone and drafting a message to Todd, he always reads your messages almost instantly, but he barely ever replied. "How does this sound?" you said after typing away for a few minutes. 

We're over. I don't want my stuff back. Don't talk to me anymore.

JJ looked over the message, and before you could freak and and be doubtful he hit send. there was a rush of relief followed by panic. "Oh my god." you uttered. "Oh my god!" you said louder. "JJ i'm officially single now." you said. "Yeah, so that means we can get inside the van right now without any guilt?" he smirked, leaning over to you, you had a pit in your stomach but you kissed him anyway. 

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Baby Boy Darling!

—Your boyfriend turning into a little baby? What are you going to do with him?

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Ranpo, Jouno X Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor

Format: Drabble

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8K

A/n: Mildly rushed but acceptable ig!

↳Osamu Dazai

"You know... I don't think this is a good choice for a bedtime story"

The little infant in your arms looked at you curiously. He wasn't old enough to make any sounds other than crying, but the martyred expression he was wearing and his firm grip on your thumb displayed his intention with no complicacy. Nevertheless, that didn't stop you from putting the suicide manual on the nightstand.

"Now now, don't look at me like that. I'm a good babysitter, and a good babysitter doesn't teach babies ways to kill themselves"

You gently caressed his puffy cheeks. "I'm also a generous babysitter, which is why I don't slap your hand away when you grab my boobs"

His gaze fell on his small chubby hand that was trying to get a hold of your breast. It was a good thing you had a T-shirt on, or with the way he was trying to cup them they would've been bleeding by now.

"I'm sorry honey, I don't think you can hold them anymore. Your hands are just too tiny!"

He whined and pouted in response.

"I know! I'm sad too. C'mon, smile a little for me will you? Smile for your mommy"

If he was still an adult, he would have rolled his eyes and smiled, but he wasn't. He was just a cranky baby who was probably planning your murder in his cute little head.

"Get it? Mommy? I'm your mommy! God you didn't have a sense of humor when you were a child did you? I miss my kind, loving boyfriend"

He looked at you unfazedly.

"Alright, how about I sing you a song? Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you aaaaaaaa— ah!?"

Dazed, you looked down at your baby boyfriend with widened eyes, only to find him staring back at you while his mouth was on your right breast. He was trying to suck on it, but that wasn't easy when it was covered with two layers of clothes, your bra and your T-shirt. Your eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"Wow, you still like the right one better?"

↳Fyodor Dostoyevsky

"So this is the power imbalance they were talking about huh?"

The violet eyed infant stares at you blankly, having a "it won't be this way for long" look in his eyes. You're holding him in front of you while sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing the cheekiest grin you could ever wear.

"No wonder you were so crazy about it. Having somebody wrapped around your finger... feels awesome!"

Still the same bored look.

"giving me the cold shoulder now? I'm just using simple logic to prove my point-which is also what you used to do. I'm saying that from this moment, you're totally and completely dependant on me"

Fyodor tilts his head to the side and gives you a weird look, tempting you to imitate his gesture. A strong feeling is causing you to brag about the current situation and tease him, and you're willingly giving into it.

"Alright. Since I'm the one in charge now, I'm setting a few ground rules. No more acting all workaholicly and staying up until late. No more skipping meals, mister. Im gonna feed you with my special milk, hehehe~ Also, I've got some confessions to make"

It's probably a bad decision to bring these up right now, but you're too captured in the heat of the moment to realize that.

"Ok. I've been trying to tell you this for quite a while. The truth is... I'm pregnant"

The unfazed look is still on.

"Yeah, that was a lie. The real truth is... I was the one who ate all your snacks"

Still no change in his expression.

"...But I assume you already know that. Ugh, keeping secrets from you is such a pain... could you not figure me out for just once?"

Fyodor doesn't seem very eager to respond. He's already very annoyed with how things have turned out and is not really in the mood to joke around. You come to that conclusion when he touches your forearm with his chubby little hand.

"You're gonna activate your ability and kill me, aren't you?"

↳Nikolai Gogol

"Quiz time!!"

Your baby boyfriend whines in annoyance.

"Who's gonna get paid one in his own coin and suffer like I did every time he teased me?"

You flash him a cocky smirk, matched with the way you're looking at him from above as he's lying on the bed. You're standing next to the bed, happier than you could ever be, planning all the steps of your revenge as you trash talk to him.

"That's right. It's no one but youuuuu! Hahahahaha!!"

Nikolai wants to prove to you that he's still strong and nobody can defeat him, but he realizes there's noway he can imply that other by a sulky attitude, which he reluctantly suffices to.

You hold his favorite snack in front of him and shake it, smiling wildly. "Come on darling! Have some! Eh? What are you waiting for? Awwwww! You can't? Then I'll help myself!"

You shoved the entire thing in your mouth and laughed hysterically.

"Nom nom* tastes nom* heavenly! No wonder you never let me have a bite!"

Nikolai is starting to feel a little guilty now. He didn't know that his teasings have made you a spiteful whore.

"You hate babies so much, and now you are one! That's the scariest punishment itself! Can you feel the power of karma? It's a bitch, ain't it? Well, now that you can't talk anymore, I have something to say to you!"

You bend over until there's a small gap between you, pointing at his tiny figure. The bullying attitude is all gone and instead, there's soft glare lying in your eyes.

"I want one of these. Give me one when you get back, Kolya"

You're wrong. This is the scariest punishment.

↳Saigiku Jouno

"Thank you for the meal!"

Jouno is upset. There are many unfortunate things happening for him at the moment. He doesn't like to be a baby. He doesn't want to be unable to do anything other than crying, pooping, eating and sleeping. More importantly, he doesn't want to feel your teeth on his cheeks.

"Mhm, so soft and squishy!" You smile sweetly and look at his puffy cheeks, stained with your bite marks in crimson. "I could just eat you up now, 'giku. You taste so sweet!"

Anyone who hears this would be happy and blush slightly, but Jouno wasn't one of them, as he tilts his head and looks away, having the most adorable pout on his lips.

Grumpy as always.

"C'mon now, it's not that bad! Look on the bright side! Everyone will have to do everything for you since you can't do it yourself"

Jouno tilts his head back, his eyebrows jumped in surprise.

"Right, that wasn't a really good example of the bright side"

Sighing, you lay next to him on the matress, hands traveling through his white locks. His muscles relax a little bit as he gives into your warmth, nuzzling his head in your chest. You hum with a soft beam, inhaling his baby scent.

"You smell very nicely too, 'giku. Don't be too depressed about this. It's not the end of the world. We'll find a way to turn you back eventually. Plus..."

You lightly pat his back, pressing a lingering kiss on his forehead. "I can have you all to myself, since you can't go on any missions and leave me here all alone anymore"

Yeah, Jouno thinks, maybe it's not that awful after all.

↳Ranpo Adogawa

"Ouch! Why you- let go of my hair you aggressive baby!"

Ranpo cries a whine out and pulls your hair harder, leading you to scream back even louder.

"Stop it! What is wrong with you? I dont care how upset you are, I'm not gonna give you any sweets- ow ow ow!! Ranpo- I said let go of my fucking hair you dumbass!"

Your angry shout startles the dark haired baby. It's not just that he's little, you'd never talked like this to him before. Slowly loosening his grip on your hair, he starts sobbing quietly, covering his face with his chubby hands. This breaks your heart.

"Nooo... I'm sorry sweetie! Mommy- Aunty- god I dont even know what I am to you anymore! Whatever- I'm sorry ok? But you can't eat sweets baby boy, you're smart enough to know that, right?"

Smart enough to know that?? Huh!

Ranpo sees right through your little plan. He knows all these little tricks inside out- hell he was the one who taught you all of them; but what pisses him off is how it's working on him even though he knows your true intention.

The smirk you've been holding back shamelessly appears on your face when he wears a serious expression, nodding like someone who's given an important task and is determined to do it carefully and correctly, then points at your boobs.

Your smile instantly fades away.

"Shit. I'm not doing that"

↳Chuuya Nakahara

"Your struggle is hilarious to me"

Baby Chuuya watched you with a threatening glare. He was clearly unhappy about this situation, and you enjoying his frustration was not going to help him at all.

"I know you really need it right now, but honestly, I don't think your little tummy can digest that"

Merely ignoring you, he tried to open the bottle of wine he was struggling to hold with his chubby feet; but every time he pulled, the bottle would slip out of his not so tight grasp. He couldn't use his ability on it, since the bottle would sink into his little body. He couldn't even roll over on the bed, and his so called nanny was laughing instead of helping him.

Forget about all the things he'd been through. This was the true misery.

"Alright. Give me the bottle"

He didn't seem to agree, because he immediately hugged the bottle with all the strength he had, like it was his dearest thing. Your serious expression showed that you weren't going to give up either.

"You give me that bottle mister or you won't get extra milk tonight"

Reluctantly, he opened his arms and you snatched the bottle, putting it somewhere high. When you turned around, you saw him sulking.

"Don't be like that baby, you know you can't drink that right now. I thought you were a reasonable person hmm?"

The cute pout resting on his lips made you giggle and bend down to kiss his cheek. He was still pretty upset, so he looked away from you. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything about the little blush on his face.

You carefully held him up and looked at his tiny figure. His long hair was gone and instead, there were short ginger locks on his head. His bluebell eyes however, hadn't changed one bit, still as gorgeous as ever.

You smiled at him. "You want me to throw you up?"

He looked oblivious. He probably knew what you were talking about, but hadn't figured out whether you were serious or not.

Shaking your head to the side, you tightened your grip on his waist before throwing him up in the air, and catching him before he fell on the ground. He got so excited that he started laughing, letting out adorable baby noises.

"Aww, you like that huh? want me to do it again?"

He blinked.

"Ok! Three, two, one! Whoa!"

Chuuya had jumped higher than this before, but not once did he feel the thrill he was experiencing now. He was having the time of his life, flying in the air with no effort. Every time you threw him up, his mouth got opened wider, wider, and wider,

until vomit came out of it, landing on your chest.

There weren't any throwing and catching after that, since you were too busy looking at the vomit, shocked. But it wasn't him vomiting that caught you off guard, it was the vomit. It wasn't milk, it was wine.

"Ok, we need to talk about your drinking problem when you turn back to an adult"

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

Tag List:

@spiritis-rambles @glitch-karma @ilovechuuyaa @i-really-love-crab @ezraiix @aeshiiteiru @dreamcastgirl99 @ay-chuu @photocollection @quackquackmfs @dababyurmom @violeteyedkeith @azriel-sama @amethystnightshade @tehweeana @prishdish @fiveangrybees @pussydrunkfyodor @silverbladexyz @h8kolya @gettinshiggywithit @exhausted-doll @echo28 @rosasensibles @nekokinax @paperllama @the-foreigner @arsonklee @fayenfim @circinuus @c4xcocoa @asqmi @blueberry-writer @ryokuryuu @ayladove @sinfullysophiastrange @sugarcherryemo @whossuzy @sigmazcasino @linn-a-a @uottani

Want to be added to my bsd tag list?

[bunnysnuff]

Christmas kiss.

Pairing: Elphaba Thropp x reader.

Trigger warnings: none.

Request.

The snow fell softly outside, dusting the Shiz University campus with a light blanket of white. Inside, the warmth of the festive season wrapped around the students like a cozy embrace. The halls of Shiz were decked with garlands and shimmering lights, and the air was filled with the soft hum of carols and the scent of spiced cider.

It was Christmas Eve, and you had never felt more at home in this place. It had been a year since you and Elphaba had finally admitted what had been silently growing between the two of you for so long. Your relationship had blossomed slowly, but now it was as undeniable as the twinkling stars in the night sky.

You and Elphaba sat together in one of the common rooms, away from the noise of the bustling crowd. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across her emerald face. Her smile was as rare as it was precious, but it was all for you now, and that made your heart flutter.

"Are you enjoying the festivities?" you asked, sipping from your mug of hot cider, your eyes softening as you looked at her. "It’s not often we get to be around so many people, especially when they’re all in such a good mood."

Elphaba smirked, her usual skeptical expression softened by the comfort of the moment. "I’ll admit, it’s a bit charming," she said. "But only because you're here."

You blushed at her words, feeling your heart skip a beat. "You always know how to make me feel special."

She reached for your hand, her fingers warm as they intertwined with yours. "That’s because you are special," Elphaba said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of something deeper. "You’re the only reason this holiday season feels... different."

You smiled, leaning into her touch as the sounds of laughter and music echoed from the other room. But before you could say anything else, a mischievous voice rang out across the room.

"There you are!" Glinda appeared at the door, her blonde hair sparkling in the light, and her eyes full of mischief. "I’ve been looking all over for you two!"

Elphaba groaned softly, but you squeezed her hand, silently reassuring her. You had grown accustomed to Glinda’s antics over the years. It was never truly malicious—just... relentless.

Glinda grinned as she approached, her eyes flicking between you and Elphaba. "Oh, don't worry, darling," she said with a playful wink. "I’m not here to ruin your moment. In fact, I’m here to help it along."

You raised an eyebrow. "Help it along?"

Glinda's smile widened. "You’ll see." She stepped to the side, revealing a sprig of mistletoe hanging overhead, its delicate green leaves and red berries adding to the holiday cheer. "You two have been dancing around this for far too long. It’s time."

Elphaba’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked up at the mistletoe, then back at Glinda, who was practically glowing with excitement. "What are you—"

"You heard me!" Glinda interrupted, her voice almost sing-song. "You’re under the mistletoe now, so someone has to kiss someone."

You glanced at Elphaba, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been a long time coming. The spark between you both had been there since the beginning, but neither of you had ever made the first move. You had both been too shy, too afraid of ruining the quiet peace that had grown between you.

But now? With the mistletoe above, with Glinda practically giving you no choice... the moment had arrived.

Elphaba seemed to hesitate, her brow furrowing as she looked at you. "You really want me to kiss you?" she asked, her voice quiet but filled with uncertainty.

You smiled gently, stepping closer to her, letting your hand rest against her cheek. "More than anything," you whispered. "I’ve wanted this for so long, Elphaba."

Her eyes softened as she gazed at you, her breath catching in her throat. For a brief moment, you both stood there, the world outside fading away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet, magical space. And then, with a tender smile, Elphaba leaned in.

Her lips were as soft as you had always imagined, the kiss gentle but full of everything you had both been holding back. It was a kiss that spoke of years of unspoken words, of emotions too big to name, of the way your heart had always known it belonged with hers.

When the kiss broke, you both lingered, just inches apart, breathing each other in, as if savoring the moment. Elphaba smiled shyly, her eyes bright. "I… I didn’t think you’d want me like that."

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against hers. "I’ve always wanted you, Elphaba. More than you could ever know."

Glinda, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, clapped her hands together in delight. "Well, finally!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with glee. "I was starting to think you two would never figure it out!"

You turned to Glinda, smiling playfully. "We would’ve eventually, I’m sure. But we didn’t need you to play matchmaker."

Glinda grinned. "I only gave you a little push. You two were meant to be together, after all. It was written in the stars, or at least in the mistletoe."

Elphaba rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, Glinda. I suppose."

With a laugh, Glinda winked. "You’re welcome! Now go enjoy your Christmas, you two." She made her way toward the door but turned around one last time. "Oh, and remember, there’s always more mistletoe where that came from."

As Glinda left, you and Elphaba shared another smile, your fingers still interlaced. The fire crackled beside you, and the world outside seemed to hold its breath for a moment.

You leaned in, kissing her again, a little longer this time, your heart light and full of joy. This—this was what Christmas had always been about for you. Not the decorations or the music or even the mistletoe, but the quiet moments shared with the person who made your heart feel at home.

And now, with Elphaba by your side, everything felt perfect.