#for those who have noticed im on a fantasy kick

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Just Fine and Dandelions

Summary: Like other magical creatures, witches are very territorial.

(Part 1/3)

Many things in this world are beyond human comprehension.

Vampires were tall, gangly things with too much pallor to their skin and wicked sharp teeth. The undead were visibly crumbling into ash, and gave off a horrible smell that warned you of their existence well before they were in striking distance. Sprites were tiny, glowing beings that, like an angler fish, would lead the unwary to an untimely death.

But these aren’t what people fear the most. Because, though the chances of surviving an encounter with such a creature were slim, at least you would know what was going to happen the moment you saw it.

No, the things people fear most are the things that look like them. The faerie are perfect facsimiles of humans, unless you peer too closely at their teeth or count how many fingers they have. Nixie will lure you into the water with them with beautiful songs and even more beautiful bodies, and you won’t realize that they’re not normal until they grab you with their ungodly strength and pull you under.

There was no warning. No chance to run. For why would you run from what you think was just another person?

And then there were witches.

Perhaps witches disturbed humans the most.

Because faerie and nixie usually stick to themselves. They’re willing to leave humans be, as long as they themselves are left alone. If you don't stumble into a faerie's circle, or come close to a nixie's lake, you could go your entire life without seeing one.

Witches, however, will join human society, and humans will never be any the wiser – or rather, not until the witch got bored.

In which case, their problem really isn't the fact that there is a witch in their village, and more the fact that there is a magical being set on razing everything they've ever known and loved to the ground.

Until then, though, witches are perfectly willing to be just yet another human. They're model citizens, really.

After all, gathering all those ingredients for their potions and spells was difficult. Who wants to spend all of their time gardening and hunting when you can simply go into town with a couple of coins and buy most of what you need? Witches need to perform magic to survive, and if they’re spending all of their time doing other things they start to…

Well.

They rot, for lack of a better word.

So, witches hide among humans. Tolerate humans. They’re willing to have symbiotic – or, at the very least, parasitic – relationships with them.

But, like other magical creatures, they are also very territorial.

Which is why, when Marinette looked up from her sewing and her gaze landed upon a ‘man’ with dark skin, her smile strained.

She could feel the magic radiating off of him. The humans wouldn’t notice, she knew. Her entire shop was practically overflowing with magic after all of her years living there, to the point where the floorboards glimmered with glittering gold that she could never quite get out, but the humans’ eyes glazed over it like it wasn’t there at all. So, no, they wouldn’t notice the way that the air around the man seemed to brighten just slightly. As if he was so happy that the world itself had lightened to give that perfect, sunny feeling right back to him.

Not that he actually looked all that happy. His hands curled into fists where they hung out of his traveler’s cloak.

To be fair, she wasn’t all that happy herself.

She fought the urge to reach up and check that her earrings were still in place. That they hadn't popped out of their own accord and rolled right over to him. It was a stupid thought, perhaps, but one that poked at her regardless. If she lost her earrings, she would be ruined. Which was exactly why she couldn't risk drawing any attention to them whatsoever.

She discreetly tied off her most recent sewing project underneath the table before slowly pushing herself to her feet.

She cast a glance around her store. She was the town seamstress. She was good at sewing, could make lace so intricate you would think a spider had woven it. People liked her work, and she liked having something to busy her hands with in the long hours before nightfall. It was mutually beneficial.

And, unfortunately, business was booming.

Which meant that there were several people around to watch as the man glared her down for seemingly no reason.

She set her jaw, forcing her expression to remain as cheerful as she could make it. “Oh, you must be new in town!” She glanced him up and down, and couldn’t quite hide the way her lips tried to curl in disgust. “Come into the back with me, I’ll get your sizes and everything so I can start on something for you.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “When did I say I wanted to commission new clothes from you?”

“Oh, I just assumed. Because…” She made a vague motion to him and his current clothes, and then tipped her head to the side with a smile that was more passive-aggressive than true. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? Is there any other reason you’d come to a fabrics shop?”

His annoyance faded just slightly, replaced by the barest traces of amusement.

She jutted her chin out, silently daring him to say something that would get them both thrown out of town. After all, the only way someone can sense magic is if they themselves are magic as well, and humans don’t care about honoring the wishes of even the most well-intentioned whistleblowers.

He held her gaze for just a few moments longer before sighing and giving a small shrug of his shoulders. He brought a hand up to steady the backpack slung there, beneath his cloak, making him look like he had a posture that even Quasimodo from Notre Dame would pity.

Quietly, she led him into a backroom. Her tape measures lay there, yes, but that wasn’t at all what she was aiming for.

The moment the door clicked closed, the sigil carved into the door and the wall were joined. A human might see the swirling designs and colorful shapes on her walls as a design choice. But, when she reached into her pocket for a couple of stray flowers and then pressed a hand to the design, channeling enough magic to make the soundproofing rune glimmer her signature deep red color, it became unmistakable. This was the house of a witch.

Not that the man was surprised.

His hand jerked towards the flower vase not that far away, but she knew the intricacies of her house's layout, and he stumbled over a rune. It was harmless, something that stuck his foot to the floor, but it was enough to trip him up regardless. He hissed a curse as his chin slammed against the ground.

She only paid him enough mind to purposefully step on one of his legs on the way to the vase. Her fingers looped around the stems delicately. Water dripped over the floor, but she didn't seem to care.

She almost looked pleasant like that, holding a small bouquet to her chest, smiling with so much ease it almost bled into him. It would look domestic, pretty, sweet…

If he didn't know that living things were extremely powerful channeling tools, and that she could use them to drain the life right out of him with a few simple words.

"Scared of a couple of flowers?" she teased.

She made no moves to stop him while he dispelled the rune binding him to the ground, nor when he pushed himself to his feet. She had the upper hand and she knew it.

Not that he cared to back down. He sneered at her. “Not really. But I can't say that I’m all too fond of the idea of fighting both of you at once.”

She laughed, but there was no real humor there. “Then don’t force me to fight you.”

He tipped his head to the side, seemingly considering it, before humming and stepping around her. Brown eyes scanned the place as he walked around her tiny little abode but, really, he was watching her. Trying to gauge her reactions.

“So,” he said in a light tone. “Where is your Item? Is it a book? Or a sewing needle? That sounds like something you’d do, you seem to like sewing quite a lot, if you chose that to be your job.”

He grabbed a nearby set of knitting needles suddenly, but she didn’t do much more than raise an eyebrow at him.

And then she snorted and started forward.

“You want to play that game, huh? I mean, if you want to find my Item, then surely I’m allowed to have a little looksie for yours as well, right?” Her grin turned sharp. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor with every step she took in his direction, getting louder and louder, faster and faster as she advanced on him. “It’s got to be on you, right? I mean, you wouldn’t leave it out for the werewolves to find, and you aren’t set up in any of the houses in town yet, so it’s got to be in your bag somewhere… I’m sure that, if I just up and grabbed it I’d have it, and I don’t think you’d want me to own you, now, would you?”

She stepped into his personal space, leaning in and smiling in a way that could only ever be described as creepy.

“Don’t start fights you can’t win,” she warned. And, for just a second, she didn't look like an innocent little seamstress. Blue eyes swirled with something Wild, as if nature itself was contained within her tiny frame. Held at bay, but only just.

He grinned and brought a hand up to tap her on the nose.

She opened her mouth to curse (either at him, or to simply curse him), but her voice quickly died in her throat.

A tiny flower poked itself out of his palm, the roots curling around his finger.

She jerked back.

“I don’t.”

(Next part)

[fxtalitygod]

EPILOGUE. ~Survival~

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pregnancy mentions, mentions and acts of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), implied incest mentions

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Today marks the day I finish this series. Guys, I cannot believe it took me two years to finish this damned series. Do not get me wrong, I loved writing it, but boy, it was a major pain in my ass. As corny as it sounds, thank you all for sticking with me throughout this series. When I originally posted the first chapter, I did not expect ANY attention whatsoever; it was just a self-indulgent thing I wanted to write because I wanted a better representation of (Y/n) where, yeah, she may not be the strongest. However, she still knows how to make do with what she has and make that her strength. I also wanted to give a more realistic relationship with the pairing. As much as I love Sukuna's character, I did not believe him to be a character capable of "true love" but a character that values others but not in the way you might think. I'm talking literal value, currency value, and benefit value. I wanted a more realistic take on the story because I did not know how many more historical "Kuna," "Suku," or "Kunie" stories I could take. No hate for those who write it or those who enjoy it; it just isn't my personal cup of tea. I like true crime and dark stories (I have this serial killer project that I'm stoked about because I know I will get my group an A+), so I tend to enjoy those darker sides, which I believe is why I like Sukuna's character so much, he just feeds into that side of me. There are some of the fantasies I enjoy where Sukuna is non-canon, such as AUs and all that, but when it comes to JJK's storyline or his historical AUs, I tend to fall short of enjoyment of that type of fantasy.

Anywho, thank you all for sticking around and enjoy the epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. I may or may not have written three times because my perfectionism kicked in every time I proofread it, and I found something I did not like and scraped half the chapter. I bet I'll find a little thing here and there when I post this. Still, it won't be anything noticeable, something along the lines of my tags and probably my TW, though Im usually very on point with those kinds of things. Still, it always seems that AFTER I make the post, I really start to notice things even after proofreading it 50x.

P.S. I plan to do a behind-the-scenes post on all my original ideas. I have worked on this little project for two years, so you bet I had alternatives. Feel free to send me asks or messages asking me about things you are curious about, and I will gladly answer.

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue

The market was bustling at this time of day. Workers were heading home from a hard day of work, rushing through the roads as they grabbed ingredients and materials for their households to prepare their meals and homes; everything was so normal...and if she were being honest, it felt strange. The confined life of the temple had practically become a comfort, so when presented with a slice of normalcy, it was foreign and, if she were being honest, alarming as well.

Having so much freedom was intimidating and overwhelming– the fear of having something good and it being taken away was a looming thought that brought many anxieties.

Years have passed since that fated day, Sukuna Ryomen's downfall. Since the fire and the slaughter that had immersed, Sukuna's actions had remained silent. There were whispers of sightings and rumors that the curse user had met his demise, but she knew better. Sukuna Ryomen was unkillable, and if anybody had truly caught a glance of him, they would be dead before they could live and tell the tale.

"Mama."

The world seemed to stop as the word processed through her head. Blood ran cold, and breaths of air seemed to come in at a faster rate. The woman turned to the little girl holding her hand, causing her heart to shatter.

"Darling, I told you not to refer to me as your mother, remember?"

The question remained as a statement rather than an inquiry as if refamiliarizing the child with a rule she had been reacquainted with on multiple occasions.

"I-I know that, but why can I not? You care for me like a mother, so why can I not call you my mother?'

"We have discussed this before, child," the woman sighed, "I believe it unfair to be taking the title of your actual mother."

"Well, if my real mother had not given me away, it would not be like this..."

Pausing mid-step, the caretaker held her breath, controlling the emotions and memories that flashed through her mind. The girl's sentence rang through her head, eliciting a feeling she was not commonly met with... aggravation. With no hesitance, the woman's minimal steps turned into longer strides, her grip even firmer on the young girl's hand. Getting to their place of lodging was more vital than anything, as she wanted to avoid discussing such sensitive matters in a public setting. Prying ears were close enough in such a crowded setting.

Upon reaching the home, the stand-in mother pulled the child inside before shutting the door. She swiftly bent down to the young one's level and took the child's shoulders into her hands. The little girl was shocked by the woman's reaction, staying silent and still as if afraid of what was to come next.

"Child, I will not hear you speak such false claims of your mother. You do not know the sacrifices she made to get you here."

The girl's expression of fear shifted from dread to shame. Her face was red from embarrassment after she was caught for her prior statement. However, as children do, she made it her goal to justify herself.

"What is the point of her sacrifice if she left me. Did she not want to be around me?"

"She did not leave you; if she were still in this world, trust me, she would be right here with you!"

The caregiver's words came out with little thought; all she knew was that she would not tolerate the little girl's false assumptions. However, now that the words spilled out of her mouth, she began to regret them. Seeing the tears well up in the girl's eyes made her wish she had phrased it differently.

"What do you mean?"

The caretaker cursed under her breath before inhaling through her nose, exhaling softly before speaking.

"You deserve the truth, my dear, and the truth is that your mother sacrificed her life to ensure you had a good one. She loved you so much that she valued your life more than hers. You might not understand this now, but that is a mother's love." The woman's breath stuttered, "She loved you more than you could ever know. I will not claim the title as your mother for that reason."

The girl was overwhelmed with emotion, only knowing how to express it through tears. The woman could not bear it and brought the girl close to her chest, embracing her to give any form of comfort that might help– it broke her heart to hear the child's quiet sobs.

After calming down, the kid spoke, though with some light chokes.

"W-what s-should I call you then?"

The warden took a sigh as she thought over her charges question. In all honesty, she had no idea what to say. What answer could she even give her? She could not allow her real name to float between the child's tongue as it would expose her identity. What name could she let the child speak?

"Hmm," the woman loosened her embrace, looking the little girl in the eye with a soft smile, "What do you think you should call me?"

The girl tilted her head, wanting more elaboration.

The lady chuckled softly, "What do you think my name should be, child?"

The caregiver had expected the girl to take some time to come up with an answer; however, the kid took no hesitation when she blurted out...

"Makato-san!"

Silenced engulfed the home as her caregiver failed to respond.

"Makato-san, I'm going to the market. Do you need anything?"

Another prolonged stillness as the young lady waited for a response.

The girl scrunched her brows in concern, extending her neck to look further into the room as if the individual she was looking for would appear. With the growing silence, the young adult searched the home for her guardian.

"Makato-san?"

She searched and examined the silent home with slight panic before finally stumbling upon the older woman, staring blankly at the floor she was kneeling on– unresponsive as she continued to stare.

With caution, Y/n's daughter reached her hand out to her caregiver's, placing it on the woman's shoulder. The response she got was one she had not expected.

The Makato turned suddenly, grabbing onto the young woman's wrist with an ungodly strength that even the girl was unaware of. This caused the girl to wince in pain as she tried to pull her arm away. Her arm was turning a light purple from the lack of circulation, proving the grip's vice.

Despite her fear, the charge could only feel concerned as her caregiver made eye contact, tears welling up in her eyes. It stayed like that for a couple more seconds before she snapped back into reality, gasping as she was presented with the image of her actions, quickly letting go of the young lady's arm.

"I'm so sorry, my Dear. I did not mean to...I was just..." The woman paused, swallowing her following words; however, her stutter did not disappear: "D-D-Did you need something, m-my, Dear?"

"I was preparing to leave and was going to ask if you needed anything from that market," the girl paused, choosing her next words carefully. Makato-san, you've been acting strange as of late. Is everything alright?"

The young woman was old enough to recognize the hesitance in her caretaker's features and the short lack of response.

"Whatever do you mean, Darling?"

"Please do not take me a fool," the youthful female voiced before sighing and looking at Makato in pity, "I'm worried for you, Makato-san. Ever since the refugees from the other village came, you have been behaving irregularly."

The refugees.

To say that their arrival was a shock was an understatement. At first, Makato thought nothing of it until the newcomers began to tell their stories. Their village was burned in a monstrous fire by a "crazed" sorcerer, and their home was now unsustainable to live in as it was left entirely in shambles. Despite this information, Makato thought little of it as there had been few stories of criminal sorcerers destroying homes, most being "inspired" by Sukuna's actions after his sudden hiatus. It was not until an elderly woman, who she happened to hear at random, described the appearance of the sorcerer.

"He was monstrous, the vile thing; he had four arms and two faces if you do not count that horrid mouth on his stomach. I watched both of them grin as it chewed on the remains of my eldest son." the elder choked and sobbed as the memory came back to taunt her.

Makato's heart dropped to her stomach. Rushing home in search of her charge, she found the girl working on her studies. Seeing the child she worked so hard to raise brought relief, but it was not long before the memories and visions began to haunt her. Sometimes, she would see you standing there, looking down at her, motionless and silent, with a pained, pitful look.

She hated it.

When you looked at her that way, she felt weak and vulnerable—as if she were failing. She was not as cool and calculating as you were, nor as confident or intimidating. Had you been here, you would have more than likely been able to disappear from society and find a nice, quiet life for yourself and your daughter. But you were not here; that was the problem– you were just a figment of her imagination.

Even then, she wanted you to stop looking at her that way.

Sometimes, she was left in her privacy and saw your vision appear to accompany her. It would drive her mad as she tried to convince you, even herself, that she was doing enough. She would speak into the silence of the room and get no response.

"What else could you want with me? I am doing everything I can!"

Silence.

"I am happy. She is happy. We are happy. Is that not enough for you?"

Silence.

"He thinks she is dead– he thinks I am dead! There is no possible way that..."

Silence.

"Please, stop looking at me that way. I am capable of doing this...please have faith in me."

"Makato-san?"

Pulling herself from her thoughts, Makato tracked what the girl had said earlier, not wanting to worry about her charge further.

"I apologize for my irregular behavior, my Dear. I can assure you that I am alright. I have had a lot of stress these days regarding the refugees. I want to do my part to assist them, but I have been running myself ragged and am just...tired."

The girl hesitated, not wanting to accept her caretaker's excuse, but she knew pushing the subject would not do her any good, so she nodded in understanding. The worst part is that Makato knew your daughter was aware of her white lie, but she would not admit it for some slim hope that the girl honestly did not know. Sometimes, she wished your daughter had not inherited your intelligence and perception.

"Do you need anything from the market, Makato-san? I plan on leaving soon to aid the refugees."

"No, I believe we have enough supplied for quite a while. All that I ask of you is to be safe, Darling."

Your daughter agreed, letting a soft smile slip onto her face before hugging Makato. The woman accepted the embrace before experiencing a wave of realization. Intelligence and perception were not the only things she inherited from you; she happened to be a real beauty as well.

"My Dear, if you plan on seeing that boy of yours, speak your peace now and know that I only want you to be safe and happy."

The girl struggled to find words before lowering her head in embarrassment, her face bright red with fluster.

"You are of age now, and I want you to know the responsibilities that rest on your shoulders."

"Makato-san, I never meant to keep it a secret. I just...I was afraid of your disapproval."

The more experienced woman could understand where she was coming from. Long ago, she was in the girl's position. However, she was never allowed to pursue her love due to the circumstances of her arrangement, but that does not mean she did not try. Despite her efforts to keep her relationship together, it was all for not in the end. She was given away as a sacrificial lamb to a monster.

Your daughter had a chance of love, and the caregiver would not squander it for her. She wanted your daughter to have a chance at a relationship she never had. Maybe it was questionable on her part due to the circumstances of her mission, but she did not entirely care. She just wanted your daughter to have a normal life.

She knew that was what you had wanted for your child.

"I do not disapprove, Darling. I just want you to be happy and to be careful."

"I promise that I will Makato-san."

There was a pause of awkward silence before the young woman embraced Makato once more.

"Thank you, I'll be back soon."

Makato smiled as she watched her ward leave the home. She had no problem admitting she was happy for the girl, but something deep within her told her it was a bad idea. It was hard for her to come to terms with, but she had an itching feeling that did not settle with her.

The world was perfect at the moment. Your daughter had put smiles on faces from her charity and was now being rewarded with a proposal for her marriage. She hugged her lover, showing her love and adoration in any way appropriate for their stage in relationship. If you were here, you would be beaming with joy, giving consent to the marriage with no hesitation because this is all you could ever want for your girl, and it would have been all you wanted for your twins.

You never had a chance of love and a happy life; seeing your children be able to pursue their lives to the fullest, especially in romantics, would have been considered a blessing to you.

"This is the happiest day of my life, honestly, but have you received my guardian's blessing?"

The young man chuckled, caressing her cheek reassuringly, "I plan on coming over for dinner tonight to ask for your hand properly if you will have me."

The girl could only agree eagerly through her expressions, unable to speak in fear of shouting instead of politely inviting him. Hugging him one last time before parting to rush home and prepare their meal; however, a chill went up her spine the moment she left; everything felt cold, and she could not explain why. Maybe it was the lack of his embrace, but she had never felt that way. There was only one good reason she could name.

Her nerves were getting the best of her...

"What if Makato-san declines."

The young woman's moods changed throughout the day as she prepared for the most significant evening of her life. One moment, she had the goofiest, filled with overwhelming joy, but there were other times when she would find herself chewing her nails from anxiety, and right now, she was having one of those times.

"Dear, stop that. This behavior is far from healthy. What has you behaving this way?"

"Nothing, everything is fine. I suppose I'm just hoping dinner will turn out acceptable tonight."

"Dear, please do not insult my intelligence with these excuses. What is going on that you are not telling me?"

"Well, I—" there was a pause. How was the ward supposed to say anything without giving anything away?

"You what? Spit it out, child, you are worrying me."

"I cannot say. I am sorry. But do not worry, please; something good is about to happen. Please trust me on this."

Makato chewed the inside of her cheek. She did trust her ward, but she had this gut feeling, this sickening feeling that she could not name. Maybe it was just her nerves getting the best of her, so she pushed it aside. She trusted your daughter, the only trustworthy person that Makato knew.

"Alright... is there anything you need help with?

The younger one smiled sweetly, taking her caretaker's hands in her own.

"No, I have it handled. You have been so stressed the past few days that you should just relax. Tonight, all your worries will be washed away." With that, she parted to continue her work for the big news. She was all but too excited.

She was also naive.

She was a sweet little girl, but she was naive. To think all of Makato's worries and problems would go away by simply relaxing, through sweet and simple gestures, was an innocent way to think. It was how Makato raised that girl because she wanted that sweet little girl to have that luxury. There were times she wondered if she had made the right choice, but then she would remember what pain looked like and what too much experience could do to a person.

No, she made the right decision. This is what you would have wanted.

Right?

Yes.

Makato went, and she sat as the young woman finished her final preparations for the meal. The girl looked more stressed than ever, rushing at the final threshold, but it seemed that preparations were finished and she was filling time. She found little things to do that held no significance. She was in her head, making Makato question if everything was truly fine.

Then, the footsteps could be heard. He was here, and everything was going to change. Life was going to change, and it was between her and that door. The biggest day of her life was only a dinner conversation away. So she opened the door and was presented with an image she thought she would never see or experience.

"We must leave. The village is under attack, and we do not have much time."

The smell of smoke was strong, and embers could be seen from a not-to0-far distance. The world came crashing down, and she could not say a thing. She could only stand there with an oblivious smile.

"What?"

Fear, confusion, anger, any negative emotion she could feel, she was feeling. This was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to get a blessing and marry the man of her dreams. Why now? Why this? This could not be real, there was no way.

If the world had crashed down for your daughter, the heavens collided into the earth, dissipating everything in its path in Makato's eyes. The older woman stood, no thoughts running in her head as she strided to the boy, grabbing him by his garments

"You tell me now, and you tell me true, boy! What did you see?!"

Her sudden actions left him too stunned to speak, but after some shaking and calling for his attention, he found himself capable of a response.

"Makato-san, what is happening?" It was like everything hit her at once, but she was still trying to understand why it was happening today– why it was happening now at the most crucial moment of her life.

"I do not know what it was, but it was a man of stature. He was disfigured; he had two faces and four arms. He came without warning, started flames, and began a massacre. His face was cold, as if he felt absolutely nothing."

There was no doubt in her mind that it was him, no doubt her former husband as reigning terror; however, based on the emotionless state of his ambush, bloodshed was beginning to lose its flavor. It was comical, but as much as it had some humor, this was no joke. This was all too real.

Makato grabbed your daughter's shoulder, pulling her out of her shock. Tears were in her eyes, looking at her caretaker pitifully.

"Makato-san, what is happening?"

She was naive, and being naive was safe, but being naive was also unrealistic. Makato gave the girl a sheltered life, eliminating the possibility of danger to the girl. That was no way to live.

"Your father, that is what is happening."

"What?"

And the shock returned. Makato made an effort to avoid mentioning Sukuna in conversation, only mentioning you in light memory. As far as your daughter was concerned, her father did not exist...until now.

"That so-called man is your father, Ryomen Sukuna. That is the man who drove your mother to eventually kill herself," A pause, licking her lip as she readied herself to elaborate, "Your mother sacrificed herself to protect you from him. He drained the life from her and left her no choice but to die, but she gave it purpose. She died to give you a life, a life away from him."

"I-" Your daughter was at a loss for words. Everything was hitting her too fast.

"I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping it from you. I wanted you to have an everyday life, but I should have noticed sooner or later that the truth would reveal itself and that he would present himself one day."

There was nothing to say, only to exchange expressions of fear and dismay.

"W-Well, what do we do now?"

"We run."

Taking the two charges, Makato grabbed whatever necessities they needed to start a new life. She had been planning this since the day she ran from the temple. She would admit that now, with a third party, it would be more complicated than she had intended, but they would make do.

They exited the home frantic. The smell of smoke became more potent, and the embers were closer than before. The flames became more evident as they spread. Any entrance to the main road would have been a route to death, but Makato had never planned to use that path. There was a back trail through the woods, one she had discovered when your little girl was merely five years of age.

They ran towards the thicket, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Things were looking smooth, with hardly any disruptions. It was almost serene, but that was the issue. To have such tranquility was a nauseating notion for mayhem being at their backs.

It was too quiet to be safe.

And that is when she knew to push the girl and her lover aside, veiling their presence with her technique before everything went black.

Ringing...

Ringing...

And more ringing...

The lights were brighter, and the smoke and ash came straight from the source. She woke up coughing and gasping for air. For a moment, she thought she had been dreaming, immersed in a life that was not hers. Maybe she was waking up, back to her village, back to her parents, back to the life before she got caught in that awful nightmare.

"I am surprised that it was you, of all the women she let live." Sukuna started, looking down at what he believed to be the scum of the earth.

No, it was all too real. His voice registered through her head instantly despite not hearing it in years– at least in person. She had repeated memories, but sometimes she wondered if she had deformed his voice from years of not hearing him speak down on her. Turns out she remembered it accurately. It still managed to send chills down her spine and make her wish to be six feet under the ground.

"I was probably too forgettable for her to ever really care about whether I lived or died." Makato spat.

"That is reasonable enough, but that would not serve her memory well and rather insult her intelligence. I will say that, if anything, my Little Flower was too clever to let such technicality slip from her. She probably pitied you and your fruitless womb, so she gifted you with a child for you to care for in her absence. And knowing your broken state, she probably knew you would be eager at the opportunity."

Makato scowled, turning her gaze to the ground. How dare he speak of you in such a way. He said that as if you were on his level, as devious and conniving as he was, and claimed your actions were selfish when they were the opposite. You did this for her daughter, not for yourself. If you had it your way, you would be there.

"How old is she now?"

She refused to answer, turning her gaze back to the dirt. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of belittling her more than he already had. It was humiliating, but she still had some dignity and a promise she wished to uphold.

"What does it matter? She is dead. (Y/n) told you herself that she was gone."

A sharp pain was felt at the back of her head as he pulled her hair to force the woman to look up at him.

"Do not picture me a fool! For a woman whose last words claimed her daughter was gone, she left me the most humorous smile. I know that age of the girl, but I would rather hear from you, bitch, how long you have been holding her captive."

No response.

"Answer me!" Sukuna snarled, pulling at her scalp once more.

"Nineteen years of age," Makato smiled. Why? Do you wish to act as a father now? Well, you are too LATE! While you were out throwing tantrums, I raised her child, which you would not know how to do without being given exact handwritten instructions."

"On the contrary, you let her potential slip, and now she is nothing but another womb to breed. Unfortunate, due to the heritage of her mother and myself. However, a womb is still useful regardless."

Out of anything Sukuna had done, out of anything he had said to threaten her, that was the most horrifying.

"You are a disgusting bastard."

"Do not speak as if you can fill her shoes as if you have her confidence. You would not be in this position if you were half the woman she was."

"You are right; if I were half the woman she was, I could have easily manipulated you and have you play the role of the arrogant man with an ego so big, he does not notice the knife pointing at his back," A pause as she licked her lips, swallowing to try and quench her dry throat, "Everything that woman did was out of fear, much like everyone else; however, she knew how to tick your interest and she used that to her advantage. Honestly, I am ashamed. I only noticed it when she told me about her plan."

A twitch in his eye, he was irritated. It was known through body language and the knowledge of his nature that he wanted to tear Makato apart, limb from limb, until her body was unrecognizable.

"What? Afraid to face the truth of her decision. She could have run away with ease; she could have killed you, but both of those options would have been considered a mercy for you. She took away the one thing that you valued: herself. That must eat at you a lot."

With a swift motion, he scooped the former wife from her neck, squeezing her throat as he raised her to face him eye-to-eye.

"You are a worthless bitch who cannot even reproduce, summing you up to nothing. What is your worth?"

Nothing but the struggling breaths of the woman attempting to pry herself from this monster's grip.

"Exactly, you are worth nothing."

Darkness, wherever they were, was dark. The girl and her lover were still in the woods, alive as well as they could manage. She could only remember running into this place before being shoved into the dark area. She felt the ground around her and reached her arms out into the pitch black as she tried to navigate this strange place. It scared her.

"Makato-san? Where are you?"

No response, only silence.

It was dark and frightening, and she did not know what to do. What could she do? She could cry, so she did; she cried as she tried to find her way back. This had to be some kind of night terror. She would wake up, and she would be at that doorway, welcoming her lover into their home, eating their meal, and then sharing the news. Her lover would get her caretaker's blessing, get married, and live happily ever after, right?

Dreadfully wrong.

Instead, a hand reached out and pulled her out of the darkness. The world was still unlit, but moonlight and the flames dancing in the distance could be seen nearby; however, she was not a part of the conflict.

She was about to scream, cry for help, anything to get attention drawn to her location, but was stopped by a large palm to the mouth.

"Shhh, my love. It is only me. It will be alright."

For the first time that night, she felt genuine relief. Turning her head to see her man, she looked down at her disheveled features. She weakly smiled, moving herself to embrace him. It all lasted for a few seconds until she realized the missing member of their little group.

"Where is Makato-san?" she whispered.

The man looked down, not daring to respond. She attempted to make eye contact, but he would only look away.

"Where is she?" she insistently asked, but louder.

" I do not know; a couple curse users emerged from the woods. Makato shoved us into the ditch, and when I came out, she was gone."

"Well...Well, we must go look for her."

A grasp to the wrist effectively stopped the girl.

"No, I cannot risk losing you, and I know Makato-san would agree. She would not want you going out to risk your life to save her."

How could he say that? How dare he say that! What right did he have in this decision?

"Then you do not know her." she scowled, trying to withdraw from his hold, but his hand did not budge.

"Then why would she tell you everything had she not already predicted the possibility that she might die."

"Because... because...she needed me to know because if we were going to run away, I would need to put in my own weight by knowing our threat...yes, that was it! Now let me go!" She tried to reason, but not to him—herself.

Denial.

"It was a confession! As if she were lying on her deathbed, she confessed everything to you. She wants you to move on, knowing there are dangers like your father. She wants you to kno-"

"Well, she may not be dead yet, so we have to try!"

With whatever strength she had deep down, she broke free from his grasp, sprinting towards the village and the flame. She could hear him following her, but in her mind, she wanted to believe he was doing it because he could see her reason. He would help; she was sure of it.

She was almost there, and she swore she could see the silhouette of her caretaker, but then she found herself on the ground. It was only for a second before being lifted into the air, a hand covering her mouth as she got further from her destination.

Kicking, muffled screams, and the distant cackling of flames could be heard. She bit her partner’s hand in an attempt that he would let her go from the sudden pain, but he was resistant. He merely grunted and winced while continuing his journey back. But then there was a halt.

There she was, Makato, thrown onto the ground. She could see her in the distance. The woman looked weak but very much alive, and she was right there. The daughter kicked, shoved, jabbed, and bit even more, trying to get loose. However, her lover would not budge because although he could see Makato, he could also see the shadow hovering over the woman, the shadow your daughter was refusing to look at.

Then the shadow disappeared, and the dreadful monster emerged, Sukuna Ryomen, hovering over Makato with disdain. Watching as she tried to crawl away but failed miserably. She was fighting, doing her best, but her fate was inevitable.

Death was the only option, and death is what she got.

Ryomen Sukuna caved into his impulses, ripping her limb from limb until she was unrecognizable. The daughter watched, horrified, as the woman who raised her was mutilated to nothing but a pulp. What sort of sick joke was this? She remained silent as she tried to think of who would pull such a childish trick, watching as the image got smaller until nothing was left. Eventually, it was just a tiny yellow dot in the distance and nothing more; all she could do was look at it.

"Promise me you will live."

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe out

Breath in

Breathe o-

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

The scream echoed through the dark room, and you tried to comprehend where you were. The walls were closing in, and the air was too thick to breathe. It felt like like suffocation.

What was this?

Why now?

Where is this?

Why is this?

How is-

"Y/n!"

You snapped back into reality, frantically looking at your surroundings to notice you were in your bedroom.

"Y/n, what happened? Are you okay?"

The silence was tense as you sat there, trying to remember your nightmare. You thought long and hard, but in the end, you had nothing.

"I...I don't know."

You heard a sigh, a hand rubbing your back, and another reaching for your cheek, wiping the stray tears you were unaware of.

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight, again?"

Some of you wanted to say no, but the opposing side longed for it. You stared at the clock on the wall before you, reading the time. It was a little past midnight, and you had hardly gotten any rest. You had a big day tomorrow, and rest was crucial to get through your day. God knows the things you would do if you did not properly sleep.

Turning to your twin brother, you weakly nodded, "Okay."

He did not hesitate to tuck you under his arm as if in an attempt to protect you from any harm to come your way, to shield you from the nightmares. However, despite his presence, it was like a part of the dream appeared that you remembered but didn't at the same time.

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"Please just answer me...for my sanity."

Your brother sighed, resting his cheek on your head as he rubbed your shoulder to comfort you.

"Y/n, I have no doubt you will make a great mother. Come on, let's go back to sleep. I'll stay here, and everything will be better in the morning."

"Promise me it will be better in the morning."

"What?"

"You don't have to hold up to it. I just...I just want to hear you say it."

"I promise it will be better in the morning."

"Okay..."

New series?? Sequel???Maybe, but first, a little break ☆~ (˃̵ڡ‘˶ )

Taglist (Thank you all so much for being a part of this series):

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac @meforpr3sident

@fourcefulcupid @nezuscribe @my-simp-land @zukuphilia @niya729 @spiritofstatic @bbittersw33t @kashasenpai @decaysan @honeybaegle @ygslvr @outrofenty @esposadomd @ali2426 @anmath @yazzzmints @lovingnahida @sincerest-one @rosemaydone321 @j0dios @k-ki3rd @maki-zenin1944 @shadowywizardarcade @ae-mius @xiangping-28 @loaves4me @aloraaaxcrystalzx @chariotwaves 

[iamthecomet]

hi

do you have any ideas on predatory usage of quintessence

like murder ghoul aether cuz im still thinking about "pump them full of so much quintessence they dont know their name"

-🧪

I have so. SO many thoughts on predatory use of quintessence. And on murder ghoul Aether specifically. Someday, I would like to write full fics for each of my murder ghouls and their preferred methods (Swiss in particular is also quite fucked up). But for now, enjoy some thoughts about murderous, creepy, Aether.

Aether likes them calm. Dopey. Happy. Finds the blood tastes better when they're content. But, if he's honest, he doesn't really care about the meal. It's his least favorite part. Nourishing in a way that feels necessary but not pleasurable. Sometimes he'll even invite Dew in to actually finish them off once he's had his fill of their psychic torment. It's the lead-up he likes the best. The chase, the capture, the play. He likes smiling softly at an unsuspecting sibling. Likes furrowing his brow and asking for help with something. He finds that's the easiest way to get them. Asking for help. Humans are driven by the need to be helpful, the need to be useful. They toddle after him excitedly every time. He tries to pick humans that are over-eager. Excitable. The ones that babble at him as he leads them away from safety. He likes the way they talk. The waver in their voices. Nerves. Excitement at being noticed by a band ghoul. Sometimes he digs in right then, lets his powers drift into their mind and watches the fantasy unfold. Devours all of their hopes, their wants. The way they play out their future from this chance moment forward. They think about Aether noticing them, knowing them, loving them. Platonically or otherwise. They craft new worlds for themselves in the short walk to the basement door. And then, like clockwork, they stop. Hesitant. Aether tastes the bite of their fear as they look at the heavy oak door that they've been told never to breach. Those fantasies of a life blessed by a Ghoul's favor crumble. Apprehension eats them away like flame does to paper. They worry about Sister. About incurring wrath. About being kicked out. Thrown out into the woods to find their way home. About being pulled from the church--the only place they've ever found meaning. Aether looks at them, pulls his probing magic back. He reaches for them, claps one big hand over their boney shoulder and feeds them their first taste of his magic. They stumble a little. Dazed. Always thrown off. Hit with a wave of vertigo that Aether doesn't bother to explain. He looks at them like he's worried for them, asks them if they're alright. "Yeah," they say, "was just dizzy for a second. Must be nerves...I'm--we're not supposed to go down there." Aether shrugs, presses his quintessence in further, wraps it around their brain stem. Calms their racing heart. Feeds them back their thoughts of usefulness, of friendship, of a future with Aether by their side. "You're helping me, so I'm sure it's fine." And then, he leads them into the dark. No one who follows Aether into the basement ever comes back. He keeps them for a while, hours, days, sometimes weeks depending on what he can get from them. He feeds off of their emotions, of playing with them. Finds the psychic nourishment far more valuable than the blood and viscera. He digs into their memories. Watches their trauma play out like a movie. He keeps them drugged up on his magic, sedated. He used to restrain them early on, until he realized he didn't have to. Keeping them high on his magic was enough, drifting, delirious. Implanted memories making them think they're living the life they wanted. Their fantasies played out in brutal detail while Aether digs his fangs into their neck and tastes their pain, their pleasure, bursting bright on his tongue. When they've served their use, when their memories, and their trauma, and their desires start to taste....stale. He finishes them off, or has Dew do it. He cleans up. He starts again.

[oursidae]

IF YOU INSIST

takes your hands. come on this journey with me. for reference i consider kiryu to be exclusively gay but i feel like a lot of this except one bit also applies when reading him through a bisexual lens also <3 come listen to me talk about the way kiryu touches himself and how it changes throughout his life <3

i think when he was in his 20s he was a hedonist, far less so than nishiki but still, basically a frat boy, a horny 20 yr old. i dont imagine him having any actual sex partners during this time, in fact i think he's a virgin well into his middle age at Least. so he jacked off a lot. usually into his fist. i can see him making a fleshlight with 2 wet sponges and a cup. sometimes he got brave and touched his ass but felt so ashamed of it the days after he would be jumpy around nishiki and any other yakuza. (real yakuza cant like men...camera zooms in on kashiwagi) tldr hes so closeted and has so much internal homophobia it leeches into how he pleasures himself and knowing he might like sex in "unorthodox" ways is frightening in ways he doesnt super understand. ofc over the events of 0 he has bigger things to worry about but 0 is when i think kiryu's attraction to men comes to the forefront, through tachibana. (and also pocket circuit fighter.)

then, he goes to jail for 10 years. i think this period severely stunts him, because we know kiryu loves to just compartmentalize and shove all of the scary feelings down so he can just keep ignoring them, and being an invisible inmate makes that so much easier. any self pleasure he does during and immediately after this time is quick, utilitarian. dry and chafing just getting it over with, you know? any emotion attached to the act is a distant staticky buzz in the back of his mind.

of course im a kazumaji truther so during yakuza 1/kiwami, majima introduces to him a new level of sexual frustration that leads to him exploring pain and masochism by himself. majima doesnt *give* him this fetish, so much as he just opened the locked door to it. he digs his fingers into the cuts and bruises majima leaves on him and turns the shower water up until its scalding because if he didnt do this in the shower he'd pass out after with dried cum on himself. i think his feelings toward majima during this time are frightening spaghetti to him - something im sure irritates majima to no end, majima in my mind is far more assured of himself and who he is and his own sexuality and attraction to other men - and i dont think that kiryu does much in the way of exploration around this time aside from the odd burst of confidence (we were robbed by the banana bar substory.) he might try to touch his ass again here and there but theres still that twist of shame that he cant quite shake. i dont know when exactly i hc him entering a relationship with majima, if at All (i love the angst), but if he is having sex with majima at this time i think that relationship kicks his Growth into overdrive and he overcomes those hurdles a lot easier.

shame, i think, holds kiryu back a lot, because if he is this way, he isnt what is expected of him. if that makes sense. kiryu is supposed to shoulder it all alone and keep the tojo clan from sinking and there isnt room in that power fantasy for taking it up the ass and finding comfort in another mans arms, because this series is rife with toxic masculinity and commentary on it here and there.

on theme with burying his feelings and how peoples expectations of him affect him, kiryu in 2/kiwami 2 is DEEPLY SUICIDAL. like the whole game. if you havent noticed. kiwami 2 is one of my least favorite games of the series so this may color my judgment here a little. i think both kiryu and kaoru were experiencing comphet as their relationship progressed, especially the weird makeout next to her brothers corpse. you do weird things under stress, adrenaline, and trauma, and thats what i chalk this part of the game up to. i dont see him engaging in much, if any, self loving around this time period because of his severe depression, ptsd, and deep desire to end it all. if he does its in the "i might as well" way, or just to make time pass. he might even engage in it in a compulsory way, because he knows he'll feel a little better by the end bc orgasming does that, but its literally just for that purpose, not to Feel Good in a sexual way. just to hurry up and crank one out in the shower so he can get it together enough to get haruka to school.

kiryu has growing to do when he starts raising children and does his best to let go of any predjudices he has, but i think he still struggles with his own attraction to men. he never ever would teach his kids anything but to be kind, even if they find something odd. but he cant afford that kindness to himself. when i was in elementary school, i came home one day and told my mom "today i learned from my friend that gay is when boys like boys and that lesbian is when girls like girls :)" and then...that was that. she was like. "ah. okay... who said that to you? i see. did he say anything else about it?" and she didnt really push me to one conclusion about those facts. thats kind of how i see kiryu navigating some of these conversations. he'd steer them toward the kind option, if they needed it, but sometimes "yeah thats right. gay men are men who like men. lesbians are women who like women." is all you need, the confirmation that its real, and the neutrality that means yeah its fine.

and i think haruka is the most perceptive of kiryu bc of how they have grown together so like She Knows. if anyone puts the pieces together besides majima itd have to be her. and i think the conversation they one day (probably not around 3-era, unsure where i'd place this) have kind of also touches on harukas own bisexuality bc nothing abt what she did w that one girl she was friends with in 5 was hetero. 2 me. i wish I could be more coherent about this scene in my head, but i feel like its a conversation where a lot remains unsaid but is innately understood. they dance around the topic because saying it outright teeters on too much, but they know what theyre talking about. the love between them is unconditional.

anyway he doesnt have much time to masturbate when running the orphanage, but because he's busy with chores and taking care of a bunch of kids who he loves. plus thin walls. but hes gentler with himself when he does. maybe he starts foraying into men strictly in pornography, he's got magazines under the futon or looks up crusty jpegs on his phone or something. he lets go of some of the shame because he's found somewhere else where it feels right for him to be. he is so happy in okinawa it drives me crazy.

skipping over 4 bc he's still in okinawa for the majority of that game until saejima and company wash up on his beach and then he has to go back to kamurocho, during the events of 5 he is NOT touching himself. he hates himself so much in that game. he hardly showers. he lives with a woman and covers up her naked body when she strips in front of him. his boss is pointing out how gay everyone at his job thinks he is but insisting its okay but being clocked like that is a super specific punch to the gut that he wasnt really prepared for and really flusters him. for the most part i dont think his dick exists to him. he's sitting to pee. he hasnt gotten it up in months.

i blocked 6 from my memory for the most part except how kiryu in a baseball uniform makes my dick hard. haruka and yuta i think r bi4bis my girl deserves it.

post 6, he is not Kiryu Kazuma anymore, and despite the pain that comes from forced separation from his family, being a different person is so freeing. he gets to explore things. he gets to let his shoulders drop and relax for the first time since 2005. im playing thru gaiden right now and already dont remember all of the daidoji restrictions on him but by now he's pretty much fully realized himself and embraced his sexuality. he lets himself have his fantasies. he's become a bit of a hedonist like he was in his 20s with far more easy access to gay porn and sex toys. i know my man has a butt plug in his gay ass!!! i love bottom kiryu. have i ever said how much i love bottom kiryu. i think he has nights where he puts on a porn video and treats himself. i think he has some drinks and a cigarette and fingers himself and plays with his balls and teases himself until his orgasm sneaks up on him. and then he takes a shower and goes to sleep in his underwear. is he completely healthy? absolutely not. his self sacrificial streak and need to bear all of the pain by himself is why he's here. he still has unaddressed severe trauma and depression. but he can fingerfuck himself and watch gay porn without his stomach churning over the fact that he actually wants this, so progress is progress.

i need to stress. i started thinking about all this. because i put kiryu in this outfit

and thought about him putting on dark plum colored lipstick and looking at himself in the mirror and smudging it a little and getting so hard that he gets lightheaded and immediately needing to jack off about it. i would say im going to write that fic but i know i wont.

[wolfpiretrobed]

Introduction: (if youve seen this already its becuase im moving blogs)

Uhhhhh idk how to introduce things i barely got a C in english but the idea behind wolfpire is like a dark fantasy au of community. the big changes are:

This all takes place in and around Aberystwyth(A-buh-rist-wuth),wales because I'm welsh and also america perplexes me.

Troy is now a werewolf,he lives in his family's pack (it's like a small village in the countryside) after his mom died he was made the leader against his will by his dad since he wanted Troy to grow up faster and become more responsible. Oh and troys ftm now because ik him better then harmon.(also ill be referring to younger troy as troy i wont be giving him a deadname or anything like that because i think thats kinda weird tbh)

Abed is a half vampire, his mom is a human and his dad is a vampire,his mom left (i've said before that she died but i’m changing that) due to similar reasons in the show, abed was always alone since he was home-schooled (as a protective measure), and since he couldn't go to the movies (overstimulation makes it impossible to hide his vampiric side) abed reads screenplays and re-enacts/draws scenes he thinks would be cool. also Since he didn't go to Greendale he instead works at his dads cafe which doubles as a normal cafe but also has a V.I.P area for any other monsters in town who need a place to go and don't need to hide themselves.

Annie wasn't able to go to rehab due to her parents, she's constantly tired from all nighters she has to pull for her straight A+’s (or else her parents will kick her out) it doesn't help that she doesn't have a study group to help her.

Other characters pending….

Greendale community college is now ‘greendale paranormal investigators’ a (not so successful) agency that investigates,documents and “takes care of��� any paranormal/supernatural activity, it also has a trainee/apprenticeship program.

My best attempt at a timeline of events(this'll be short for now because i don't have too many events “planned” in my head):

Troy and abed first met when they're younger like 5-7, Abed was in his backyard re-enacting a scene from a screenplay with some pebble/rock statues he made, when troy who got lost on a field trip with his family and found abed playing in his backyard and got excited to see another kid his age so he jumped into his backyard and thats when they first met, they talked for hours and hours troy was happy to finally have a person who didn't judge or criticize him and abed was happy to have someone to talk to who wasn't “too busy” to listen to him. I also feel like abed did that speech thing with jeff in ep1 but with troy.

Periodically when he can troy would sneak away and visit abed at least once a week after a while abed starts baking snacks he thinks troy will like, introducing him to Gobi who was worried for troy but also happy that his son had someone to talk and specificity looking for screenplays he knows troy will like so they can re-enact them together. After about 5-6months of this happening though abed notices that troys coming less and less and eventually he stops coming at all… Yeah thats kinda it  😅 i don't actually have much of any other ideas bouncing strong enough around my head sadly :(  if you cant tell already this is still a very massive work in progress.

Where the idea came from:

basically back in October i got a an idea after watching Danny in dywtsadb and wanted to relate that to community so i made abed a vampire (instead of a cannibal but i mean those are basically the same anyway) and i also wanted troy to be a sexy monster but i didn't want him to also be a vamp and the next thing my brain thought of was a werewolf, i feel like that tells you a lot about who i am as a person.

link to google doc with all this