#how we went from this to the next era is beyond me

[mononijikayu]

i wanna be yours — ryomen sukuna.

He paused, the words catching in his throat as if they were foreign to him. “I cannot let you go.” You felt your resolve waver under the weight of his admission, the intensity of his gaze consuming you. “Then what do you want from me, my lord?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, though his eyes betrayed a deeper emotion. “Everything, little one.” he said simply. “Your body, your thoughts, your heart. I will have it all, and I will never share it with another. I want it to be mine.” Your lips trembled as your eyes bore his own. “You already know that I am yours, my lord.”

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, smut, r-18, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, parenthood, forced parenthood, hurt, physical touch, character death, sexual acts, mourning, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, toxic relationship, forced memory loss, coercion, explicit miscarriage, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of forced memory loss, depiction of coercion, depiction of explicit miscarriage, depiction of character death, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of parenthood, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, mention of sexual acts, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 19k words

NOTE: i thought about how concubine reader and sukuna have this really interesting relationship. a really interesting and painful relationship. and a lot of imbalances exist, with how sukuna has the most power. and he uses it to corrupt her. sukuna, no matter how much he loves concubine reader or make her happy, he will continue to hurt her and cause her grief. and next chapter, we will explore her response to it all, and how she rebels. and how sukuna concedes. in any case, thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

TAGLIST: @after-laughter-come-tears, @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @sukioyakio;

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MANY YEARS OF MARRIAGE AND HE STILL HAS NOT FIGURED IT OUT. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t know how to put into words what churned within him when it came to you, his concubine.

You were his endless enigma wrapped in the finest of silks he could procure for you. You were a constant contradiction that pricked at the edges of his ego and lingered in the dark corners of his thoughts. 

He despised puzzles left unsolved, he hated things left undone. Yet you had become the one conundrum he could never crack. And for a long while, he had thought he would be content with that. But as the years went on, he felt maddened by it all. He didn’t know you well, not in the way he hoped. And that bothers him.

Do not get him wrong, he knew you. He knew you well enough that he had kept you around, that you were the only one that he’d ever let close, one that was never a servant. He knew every subtle glance, the cadence of your voice, the way your hands moved with grace even in the most mundane tasks.

He had memorized you like the pages of an ancient, weathered tome, and yet, for all the knowledge he’d gathered, there was something about you that evaded him. Something beyond the surface, just out of reach. It gnawed at him.

Was it fascination? Resentment? Or something far more dangerous—something he refused to name? He had thought, surely, the years would erode whatever this was. Time, after all, was the great equalizer, the eventual destroyer of all attachments. But you had not faded from his mind, nor had the mystery of you unraveled with the passage of time.

The more he let his thoughts drift to you, the more he realized it wasn’t just you he was trying to solve. It was what you made him feel, what it all meant. Was it a weakness? Power? The echo of something human he thought he had long buried? It infuriated him, how you lingered in his chest, a riddle left unanswered.

Even in the quiet hours, when no one else was watching, when his guard was down, he could never bring himself to face the truth. To admit that perhaps you were the one thing in his existence he couldn’t conquer, couldn’t master. And worse still, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

Ryomen Sukuna sat upon his throne, the flickering light of the torches casting long shadows across the stone walls. His scarlet eyes, sharp and unyielding, rested on you as you poured his drink with practiced grace.

The delicate clink of the vessel against the rim of his cup seems louder than it should have, reverberating in the silence. You didn’t look at him directly—never did—but he could sense the weight of your presence, a quiet power wrapped in submission.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, little one.” he said, his voice a low rumble, laced with something unreadable. “A rarity.”

Your hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. “Am I to speak freely, my lord?” you asked softly, eyes fixed on the task before you.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You always choose your words carefully, don’t you? Go on, then. Speak.”

You straightened, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The torchlight painted you in warm hues, highlighting the determined tilt of your chin. “I only remain quiet because I sense you prefer it that way. Am I mistaken?”

Sukuna leaned back, swirling the liquid in his cup. “You assume much, little one.”

“And yet, I am still here.” Your tone was calm, almost resigned, but it carried an edge he couldn’t ignore.

His smirk faded. There it was again. That inexplicable thing about you that unraveled his carefully constructed walls. You, with your unassuming words and quiet defiance, managed to disrupt him in ways he couldn’t name.

“Do you think you’ve won some favor with me with such a thing?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied you. “That your loyalty earns you a place above the others?”

“No.” Your answer was immediate, your gaze steady. “I know better than to believe I have power over you, my lord. But I do wonder—why keep me? If I am just another servant, just another fleeting presence in your endless existence, why let me linger?”

His jaw tightened. The audacity of your words would have earned anyone else a swift and brutal end, yet he let you speak. Why? Even he didn’t know.

“You have too many curiosities, little one.” He says, eyeing you. His red meeting your own orbs. “Ones that would be hard to satisfy a mortal like you.”

You smiled, laying your hand on your lap. “I have stayed, my lord. Do you not think I would have left long ago, had there been no satisfaction? Even with my curiosities.”

“You presume too much about that, little one.” he growled, though his tone lacked the usual venom. “You are here because I allow it. That is all you need to understand.”

“And yet……” you took a small step closer, a dangerous glint in your eyes. “You never send me away. Or let me go. When there are so many opportunities, don’t you think?”

Silence fell between you, thick with unspoken truths. Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his sharp features betraying nothing of the chaos within. He wanted to scoff, to crush this insolence with a flick of his fingers, but the words stuck in his throat. 

You were right. He had kept you close, far closer than anyone else. And it wasn’t out of need or convenience—it was something deeper, something he didn’t dare acknowledge. It was something that he’d rather not touch upon. Not if he wants to dig a hole of possibilities he had no answers for.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little one.” he warned, his voice a low growl.

“I only play the game you started, my lord.”

His scarlet eyes bored into yours, searching for something he couldn’t name. You stood your ground, unflinching, and for a moment, he thought he hated you for it. Hated how you made him feel… exposed. Mortal.

But instead of lashing out, he laughed. That same cold, bitter sound that echoed through the chamber. You were too familiar with it by now. “You’re a fool if you think this ends in your favor.”

“And you, my lord, are a fool if you think you’ll ever solve me. In the way you wish.” you replied, voice steady and soft, like a whisper cutting through the storm. “Fate does not work in that way.”

A sly grin appears on his lips. “Perhaps that is the case, little one. But I am no fool.”

You raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh, then what are you, my lord?”

“A husband who is intrigued about his wife.” He whispers back to you.

For a moment, your eyes blinked at his words.

Soon enough, laughter permeates through your lips.

He was fond of the sound, truthfully enough.

“You lie as easily as you breathe.” You whisper back to him, a soft ghostly smile on your lips. “My lord, I thought you only said the truth.”

He would not say anything else more, he thinks.

Ryomen Sukuna watched as you downed a cup of sake.

It was better to not dig through the mess, not at all.

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YOU OPTED OUT OF THE SESSION IN THE AUDIENCE HALL TODAY. Sukuna had sent quite a word about it , but you knew he truly did not mind. You knew him too well, that words were more or less just what it would be.

He knew you needed a break, to breathe after such a hectic schedule with him. Not to mention that you took care of Chiharu and Chizuru at the same time all on your own, and managed Vermillion Hall by yourself. It was not easy. You needed the rest. And you were glad your husband knew that. 

The sun had already begun to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow across the Vermillion Hall. The soft hum of activity filled the air as the children were off in their lessons, their laughter and chatter drifting faintly through the hall’s open windows. The usually peaceful atmosphere was, for once, undisturbed, and yet, it felt different today. 

There was a presence in the hall that hadn't been there before—the presence of Ryomen Sukuna. But you hadn’t noticed yet. Not that he expected you to. He doesn’t visit often enough as of late to find him here. He was too dedicated to other pursuits. 

You were seated by the large window, a small wooden sewing table in front of you. The soft rustle of fabric and the rhythmic motion of your hands as you carefully worked on the intricate stitching of Sukuna's new haori made the room feel calm, despite the tension that always seemed to linger between you two. 

It wasn’t the first time you had sewn clothes for him and it wouldn’t be the last. You were the only one now left making his clothing for him. You knew what he had liked, so there was no one else who did that for him.

Everyone else’s hands were not to touch his clothing, unless to wash it. And now that his previous haori had been torn and tattered from battles, you found the need to make a new one for him.  

You were halfway through adding delicate embroidery when you heard the heavy footsteps. This is only when you heard that sound that you felt something was amiss. You didn’t look up immediately, your fingers still moving across the fabric, your mind focused on the delicate task in front of you.

You could feel his presence, though heavy and undeniable. Finally, after a moment of silence, you heard his voice, low and unhurried, as though he had no reason to be anything but calm.

"Still sewing clothes for me, are you, little one?" His voice carried a hint of amusement, though there was an undercurrent of something else in it, something almost like... curiosity?

You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a faint but questioning look. "It’s not like you’ll bother to do it yourself, my lord. You had taken the liberty of demoting all your sewing servants, other than me." you replied dryly, your eyes moving back to the thread as you continued to stitch. 

Sukuna snickers. “It is no fault of mine that they are inept at the task you do so well at. Though, I should think you would be resting more today, little one.”

"I had done all my tasks rather easily, my lord.” You tell him honestly, poking the needle through again. “And with such time, I figured it would be better for you to have something... new. I cannot keep mending that one you like so much forever."

Sukuna chuckled softly, his deep voice vibrating through the room. “You’re trying to make me more presentable, are you?” He stepped closer, his gaze following your hands as you worked. "It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? Today’s audiences have been dealt with, little one."

The tone in his voice wasn’t mocking, though—it wasn’t quite the usual arrogance you’d expect from him. Instead, it was something more playful, more curious. Something that hinted at an understanding that wasn’t quite there before. Your husband, you find, has been playful when he wants to be. But that often is a rarity done in good faith.

"Maybe so, my lord." you said softly, your fingers never pausing in their work. "But I thought it might be nice for a change. For the next audience Tis better dealt with now then left for next."

His gaze softened slightly at that, though he remained silent for a long moment, watching you as you worked, the fabric between your fingers so delicate, your focus so intense. For the first time in a long while, it seemed like Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.

“You’ve been quiet, little one.” he remarked after a moment, his voice not quite as sharp as it usually was. "Too quiet. What’s on your mind?"

You paused briefly, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking back at the haori in your lap. The question was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It felt like the first time in ages that he actually wanted to know. 

"Just thinking, my lord." you said, your voice low. "About everything, really. The way things have... changed."

His expression darkened a fraction, but the concern he tried to hide didn’t escape your notice. “Changed?” His gaze narrowed slightly as he stepped closer. “In what way?”

You took a breath, the words coming slower than you intended. "I think... I think I’ve spent so much time trying to keep everything together, trying to make sense of it. But sometimes, I don’t even know where I am anymore." 

You didn’t look up, but your voice carried a strange, vulnerable edge now—something raw that you hadn't meant to reveal. “I never asked for this. For you. For any of this. I think about that as I get older. And of course, I am content but I….”

Sukuna remained silent, and for once, you didn’t hear the usual sneer in his voice or the biting comment ready to spill from his lips. He was quiet, studying you with a strange intensity, as though searching for something he couldn’t quite understand.

"I know, little one." he said finally, his voice softer than usual, but still carrying that familiar weight. "It’s never been easy for you. I get that."

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze directly. There was no arrogance in his eyes now, no unreadable distance. Just something... real. "Do you?" you asked quietly, searching his expression. “Do you really? Because sometimes I feel like I’m just some… some afterthought to you. A thing you can’t quite get rid of, but can’t quite leave alone either.”

Sukuna blinked at your words, and though his face remained unreadable, there was a flicker of something—guilt, regret, maybe even something deeper passing through his scarlet eyes. He stepped closer, his usual intimidating presence now softened, as though in the presence of your vulnerability, he couldn’t bring himself to hold onto the same unyielding stance.

“I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, little one. Even gods are such creatures.” he said quietly, his voice lower now. “I don’t know how to make it right. But I’m not leaving. Nor shall I abandon or forsake you. You ought to know that by now, little one.”

You sighed, poking another hole onto the fabric. “You sent one of the concubines to the Cold Hall, my lord. To be abandoned till she dies.”

“For a fault of her own, harming another woman in the harem.” He shakes his head at you. “You have not done such a thing. I swear that it won't happen to you. Not in your whole life.”

“How is my lord so certain to promise—” You pricked your finger, causing you to groan. You quickly move the fabric away, to avoid the blood pouring onto the fabric. 

Sukuna sighs and crouches over to you, taking your hand onto his own big one. He takes the bleeding finger close to his lips and lets the taste of your metallic blood echo onto his tongue. Your blood has always been so sweet to Sukuna, so smooth and tender. It was honest blood. Blood which has never done any wrong against anyone or anything. 

Not even him, who has made you ever so miserable. You frowned at his act. But sooner or later, the blood isn’t pouring anymore. You take your hand off his own, muttering a small thank you as you continue to work on the haori, much more careful this time.

“You raised my child, you bore me a son. And you are close by my side at all times, doing as you are told. You won’t suffer such fate and this is proof.”

“But what if I…..”

He sighed, letting his hand rest upon your head. “You will not. For all your life, you will live well. Do not over think, little one. It shall cost more of your beauty.”

You could feel your cheeks flustered with warm scarlet. You cannot look at him, or he’ll see the extent of your reddened face.  “M–my lord, if I am pricked once more—”

His gaze softened as he stood next to you, watching the way your hands moved over the fabric with quiet concentration. “Shall I make a binding vow to you, little one? I swear to you, you would not suffer in such a way.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being honest or if this was just another of his strange ways of trying to explain himself. Sukuna was never one for soft words, never one to lay himself bare.

But there was something in the way he stood there, looking at you, something that told you he wasn’t just trying to placate you. He meant it—at least, in his own way.

You sighed, putting the needle down for a moment. “I don’t know what you want from me, my lord.” you muttered, your voice almost lost in the quiet of the room. “I don’t know what I want either.”

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately, instead watching you with a quiet intensity. His gaze softened, and after a long moment, he placed a hand on the edge of the table, his fingers just brushing the fabric of the haori.

“I can’t give you the answers you want, not in a way that would make you happy. Not in ways that would make it easier.” he said finally, his voice almost regretful. “But we will not part. I shall stand by you as you stand with me, little one. If that means anything to you.”

The words hung in the air between you two, and for a long time, neither of you spoke. The tension that had always existed between you both seemed to lessen, if only for a moment. Perhaps there was no grand gesture of reconciliation, no magic words that could undo the past. But for now, this quiet understanding was enough.

Sukuna finally took a step back, his usual air of control slowly creeping back. But the softness in his gaze remained. “Finish the haori, little one.” he said, his voice commanding, though not unkind. "I’ll wear it soon enough."

You nodded silently, and as he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a fleeting moment, whether things between the two of you might one day be different.

Whether Sukuna would ever truly change. Whether he could be more than who you know he already is. You purse your lips into a flat line, trying to focus on your stitches once more.

You would think about him for the whole night, you think to yourself.

You could not get him out of your mind for one second, even in bed.

But one thing’s for certain to you — your husband lies as much as he breathes.

Even if you love him, he will not love you in the way you want him to.

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HE HAD SUMMONED YOU TO JOIN HIM FOR A DRINK. But it was quite obvious to you when you arrived that your husband was already far too deep into his drink already. You sighed, noticing a blue liquor.

Ah, the one Uraume prepares for him. This was the only alcohol that could get your husband drunk. He was immune to anything else. But this lets him feel human in his godly state. It makes him feel relieved. To be drunk on something even once in a while.

Sukuna's gaze lingered on you for a moment as you bowed. Everything about his expression was unreadable, yet there was something in his dark scarlet eyes. Something dangerous and raw. He raises his hand, letting you be at ease. You start to approach him with swift grace.

He hated how his thoughts betrayed him, wandering to places he had sworn to bury. Foolish. That’s what it was. Foolish and beneath him to feel this… guilt, this yearning that clawed at him like a curse more potent than any he could wield.

He had been alive far too long, seen far too much. He should have been immune to such petty human feelings by now. Desires, cravings…they were remnants of a man he had left behind when he ascended to godhood. 

And yet, when he thought of you, when his mind wandered to the softness of your body pressed against his, the warmth of that night you lay tangled together, he could feel something crack beneath his skin.

He thought he’d outgrown it, thought he’d buried whatever mortal part of him still dared to want. But it hadn’t stopped. It had only shifted, mutating into something darker, deeper.

His body betrayed him, aching with a hunger he despised. The memory of your touch, the way your smaller frame molded against his, haunted him in ways nothing else ever had.

You were a puzzle, you perhaps always will be to him. And that he could admit, was his  fleeting moment of weakness. He wanted more of you, a complete picture and now he couldn’t seem to erase that desire. He cannot quell his desires and he hates it. He despises himself over it. 

He remembered every detail of that night. The way your breaths hitched when his hands roamed over you, the softness of your skin beneath his calloused fingers. How you’d fit against him, fragile yet unyielding.

Somehow, you can tell that it was a stark contrast to his overwhelming presence. You were something too special, something he wants to taint and ruin, someone he wants to consume whole.

It was intoxicating, the memory of it. He remembers them without fail, even in a state like this. The way you surrendered without fear, how you looked at him as though he wasn’t a god or a monster, but just… a man. He hated that. Hated the vulnerability it pulled from him, the reminder that he was once human too.

Sukuna clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as if the pain could anchor him. He shouldn’t think of you this way, shouldn’t allow himself to feel this way.

But no matter how much he tried to suppress it, the truth clawed its way to the surface. He wanted you. Not just in the fleeting, carnal way he could dismiss. No, this was deeper.

And it infuriated him.

"Little one." he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. You turned to him, startled by the abruptness of his tone, but there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze.

“Yes, my lord?” you asked, your voice careful, cautious.

He rose from his throne, the sheer power of his presence making the air around you feel heavier. He took a step closer, towering over you, his dark eyes darkened by something primal. His hand reached out, rough fingers brushing against your cheek before he seemed to catch himself. He let it fall back to his side, jaw tightening.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of distant thunder.

You blinked, stunned by the admission. “My lord, I—”

"Silence, little one." he growled, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t speak unless I tell you to."

The command was sharp, but his hand trembled slightly before he curled it into a fist. He hated himself in that moment, hated how much power you had over him without even trying.

You were like a little doe, the way you looked at him. Almost so demure and helpless. And yet, you had the most power over him, now that Hiromi was dead. And he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that truth.

“I thought it had ended, little one.” he continued, more to himself than to you. “This… weakness. This need for something so fleeting. Yet here I am, craving you like a man, not a god. How pathetic.”

Your lips parted, but you said nothing, sensing that this moment was not yours to interrupt. Sukuna’s gaze dropped to the floor for a fraction of a second before returning to yours, molten gold locking with your wide eyes.

“Tell me, little one.” he commanded, his voice softer now, though no less intense. “Do you feel it too? Or am I the only one foolish enough to burn for something I can never truly have?”

The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge and a confession all at once. Your breath hitched as his words settled in, the weight of them pressing against you like his looming presence. Sukuna had never been one to lay himself bare, yet here he stood, his gaze cutting through you with the intensity of a man teetering on the edge of restraint.

You swallowed hard, unsure if it was bravery or recklessness that made you speak. “My lord, I…..” you began carefully, voice trembling but steady. You swallow the bile down your throat. “It would be a lie to say I haven’t thought of that night. To say I haven’t felt… something for you.”

His eyes darkened, the faintest flicker of something. Was it satisfaction, perhaps? Was it a desire which was crossing his face? He stepped closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence overwhelming.

“You have, then?” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. “You’ve thought of me… of us?”

“Yes, my lord….” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “But I—”

“But what?” he interrupted, his tone sharp, his hand reaching up to grip your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “You think I don’t see it in your eyes? The way you tremble when I’m near, yet you never pull away. You deny me nothing, yet you still hesitate to admit what you want.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steadying yourself against the storm that was Sukuna. “I hesitate, my lord.” you said softly, your lips quivering. “Because I don’t know if what you want from me is real, or if I’m just another fleeting indulgence for you. A distraction.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenching as if your words had struck a nerve. “Do you think I am a god who indulges in meaningless distractions?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “Do you think I would allow myself to feel this, to want—if it were something I could so easily discard, little one? Do you think of me that way?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze once more. There was something raw in his expression, something vulnerable that he tried to mask with his usual arrogance. It was startling, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t know what you feel, my lord.” you whispered, your voice trembling now. “You are a god, my god. A force beyond comprehension. How could I ever understand what I mean to you, knowing how far away you are?”

Sukuna let out a low, bitter laugh, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You think too much, little one.” he said, his tone softer now, though his scarlet eyes remained intense. “I’ve spent centuries trying to rid myself of weakness, yet here you are, the one thing I cannot escape. You plague me, little one, and I despise it as much as I crave it.”

The confession sent a jolt through you, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached up, lightly resting on his wrist. The contact seemed to startle him, his eyes narrowing as if to assess your boldness. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You are mine, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “Whether you believe it or not, whether you understand it or not….you belong to me. And I—” He paused, the words catching in his throat as if they were foreign to him. “I cannot let you go.”

You felt your resolve waver under the weight of his admission, the intensity of his gaze consuming you. “Then what do you want from me, my lord?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, though his eyes betrayed a deeper emotion. “Everything, little one.” he said simply. “Your body, your thoughts, your heart. I will have it all, and I will never share it with another. I want it to be mine.”

Your lips trembled as your eyes bore his own. “You already know that I am yours, my lord.”

The declaration was both a promise and a warning, and as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, you realized there was no escaping him. Not now. Not ever. He had killed and he had harmed. You do not take his threat lightly. You do not take his confession lightly.

Sukuna’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm and unyielding as he pulled you closer. His touch burned like fire, his fingers tangling in your hair as he forced you to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his movements, no softness in his gaze. The air between you was charged, thick with the weight of emotions neither of you dared to name.

“You drive me to madness, little one.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Do you even understand what you’ve done to me?”

Before you could answer, his lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t gentle. It was raw, primal, and overwhelming.

It was as if he was trying to claim you with every ounce of his being. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his powerful frame, your smaller body dwarfed by his overwhelming presence.

You gasped against his mouth, the sheer intensity of him leaving you breathless. His kiss was fierce, filled with pent-up desire and frustration, a battle for dominance you knew you couldn’t win. His sharp teeth grazed your bottom lip, a warning and a tease all at once.

Your hands instinctively gripped his robes, desperate for something to anchor you as the world seemed to tilt. You felt his chest rumble against yours, a deep growl escaping him as if your touch only fueled his hunger.

When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath hot and ragged. His scarlet eyes bore into yours, wild and unrestrained. “You are mine, little one.” he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. “Do you understand? No one else. Ever.”

You swallowed hard, your own breathing uneven as you tried to process the intensity of what had just happened. “I…”

Words failed you, your thoughts scrambled, but the look in his eyes demanded an answer. He wants what he wants, your husband. He was never coy with it. And that intimidated you. That burned you. And that made your heart beat, over and over.

“Yes, my lord.” you whispered finally, your voice trembling but resolute. “I’m yours. Always.”

A dangerous smile curved his lips, and his hold on you tightened. “Good.” he murmured, his voice dark and possessive. “Because I won’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.”

His lips descended on yours again, and this time, you didn’t resist. Instead, you gave yourself to him, surrendering to the storm that was Sukuna, knowing that there was no turning back

Sukuna didn’t stop. He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t. The intensity of his desire had festered too long, clawing at him in the quiet moments, haunting him in the shadows. Now, with you in his grasp, his need consumed him entirely, and he refused to let anything hold him back.

His lips moved against yours with bruising force, his kiss deep and possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. His hands roamed your body, one gripping your waist as if to anchor you to him.

The other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss, his sharp teeth grazing your lips again, a feral growl rumbling in his chest.

You felt overwhelmed, every inch of your skin alight with his touch. His energy was raw and almost suffocating. Everything about it surged through you, leaving no part of you unaffected.

Despite his roughness, there was something deliberate in his actions, as if he were memorizing every curve, every shiver, every gasp you gave him. He broke the kiss just enough to look at you, his scarlet eyes darkened with unbridled hunger. His chest heaved as he fought to rein in the storm raging within him.

“You’re trembling, little one.” he muttered, his voice rough yet tinged with something almost tender. “Are you afraid?”

You hesitated, your lips swollen and breath shaky. “No, my lord.” you answered softly, your voice wavering. “Not afraid.”

His eyes narrowed, as if testing the truth of your words. “Then why do you shake?” he demanded, his thumb brushing along your jawline, a rare gentleness in the gesture that only made his intensity more suffocating. “Is it because of me? Because of what I make you feel?”

You nodded, unable to deny him even if you wanted to. “Yes, my lord.” you whispered, the confession slipping from your lips before you could think twice.

His smirk returned, sharp and dangerous, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it. It was pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief. His cheeks were red, flushed in the echoes of the drink.

“Good, little one.” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You should feel it. All of it. Because I intend to show you just how deeply I’ve burned for you.”

Before you could respond, Sukuna scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. His hold on you was possessive, tightly locking you.

Every bit of his movements deliberate as he carried you toward the large bed at the far side of the chamber. The world seemed to blur around you, the air crackling with his power and your own anticipation.

He placed you down gently. It was an unexpected contrast to his earlier roughness but the way his hands lingered on your body betrayed the restraint he was barely holding onto. He loomed over you, his shadow swallowing you whole, his predatory gaze drinking in the sight of you beneath him.

“You don’t understand what you do to me, little one.” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable, a confession meant only for you. “But tonight, you will. Tonight, you’ll feel it—the depth of my hunger, my desire. All of it.”

You shivered at his words, your heart racing as his hands found you again, pulling you closer to the god who had claimed you as his own. You wrapped your arms around him and let him do what he willed with you.

This is how you worshiped him, your god. You let him ruin you, you let him take it all away from you. No matter what, you’ll worship him. Even if it hurts you in the end.

══════════════════

IT WAS BITTER TO FEEL THIS IN THE MORNING. Ryomen Sukuna’s shoulders slumped as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand cradling his forehead as though it could ease the storm brewing within him.

The room was dimly lit, the morning sun barely filtering through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror his turmoil. He glanced back at you, your form barely stirring under the silk sheets, a picture of innocence amidst the chaos he had wrought.

The guilt clawed at him like a relentless beast, tearing into the very essence of him. He had told himself countless times before that he was beyond redemption, that the sins of his godhood were unerasable.

Yet, every time he saw you lying beside him, your face softened by the vulnerability of sleep, the weight of his choices bore down on him tenfold. How innocent you looked. Almost like the most ethereal creature born to man.

And he's hurting you. He's hurt you. And he knew, it would break you. He'd done it before. He knew that. Sukuna's hands traced against his tightening jaw. How could he have done this to you?

He thought of Hiromi again, the one constant ghost that haunted him. Her face was as vivid in his mind as it had been centuries ago. The way she had looked at him with a love that had defied his monstrous nature was a memory he could never shake.

He had betrayed her over and over again, and yet her phantom presence lingered, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he continued to desecrate.

She deserved better. And now, so do you.

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. No matter how much he wanted to justify his actions, he couldn’t escape the truth: he was selfish. He was a god who took what he wanted, who carved his desires into the world without regard for the aftermath.

But with you, it felt different. He wasn’t just stealing your body; he was robbing you of your peace, your freedom. You were becoming a reflection of the torment that plagued him, and he hated himself for it.

Uraume’s earlier hesitation gnawed at him, too. They had served him faithfully for centuries, never questioning his orders. But the way their eyes lingered on you this morning, filled with something bordering on pity, unsettled him. Even they, loyal to a fault, could see the weight of his selfishness pressing down on you.

As the door closed softly behind Uraume, Sukuna let out a low, frustrated groan. His hand reached out once more, hovering just above your sleeping form, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. The memory of your soft breaths against his skin, the warmth of your body entwined with his, lingered, mocking him. He craved it, and yet he despised himself for it.

This is for the best, he repeated to himself, though the mantra felt like ash in his mouth. You’ll be free. You’ll forget me, forget this moment and this pain will fade.

But as he stared at you, your peaceful expression threatening to break the last vestiges of his resolve, doubt crept in. Could he truly let you go, even if it meant erasing everything you shared? Was it really for you—or was it just another way to escape his guilt, to absolve himself of the burden of your misery?

Sukuna clenched his teeth, the internal battle raging louder than ever. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to wake you, to hear your voice, to feel your touch just one more time.

He knew it was selfish, but the thought of you looking at him with those same accusing eyes, those eyes that didn’t understand why he had to do this—that was unbearable.

The door creaked open, and Uraume entered silently, a small vial in their hands. They approached cautiously, bowing low as they held it out to him. Sukuna took it without a word, his fingers tightening around the glass. The liquid inside glimmered faintly, deceptively harmless, yet it carried the power to wipe away everything.

Uraume glanced at you again, their expression unreadable, before speaking softly. “Are you certain, my lord?”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes flicked to them, sharp and unyielding, though his voice betrayed a hint of hesitation. “Do not question me, Uraume.”

They bowed deeply once more, retreating without another word. The door clicked shut, leaving Sukuna alone with you again. He turned the vial over in his hands, the faint clink of the liquid inside echoing in the silent chamber. His gaze drifted back to you, his expression torn, raw in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in centuries.

“I am a fool.” he muttered under his breath, his voice bitter. “A selfish, wretched fool.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the vial dangling loosely between his fingers. The weight of the decision crushed him, every fiber of his being warring against itself. To let you forget would be to set you free, but it would also mean losing the only thing that had made him feel alive in eons. 

To let you remember would be to keep you bound to him, drowning alongside him in his endless torment. Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He didn’t know what he hated more—the thought of losing you or the thought of keeping you. 

He was willing to take the risk of it all, if he was being honest.

He would rather let a lie continue, memories fade away forever;

He would rather do all the nasty things in this world, than lose you.

Everything else was better than finding you drowning with him like this.

══════════════════

THE MOMENT YOU WOKE UP, YOU REMEMBERED NOTHING. The memory of that night was elusive, like a fleeting shadow slipping between the cracks of your mind. You tried to recall it all from last night. Why did you end up taking your slumber in Heaven’s Hall instead of Vermillion Hall? Why had you fallen so sore and exhausted? What happened last night? 

You had pushed yourself to remember each and every time. But with all those attempts to do so left you with nothing but vague impressions. Perhaps you had been too tired to think clearly. Perhaps it wasn’t worth remembering. You had probably gotten so drunk and blacked out. Oh no, had you caused a scene? You were horrified about it all. 

You had hoped that it was going to come back to you once you have rested, once you had groomed yourself out of the mess of alcohol’s scent. Still, something about it lingered, a faint unease that you couldn’t quite place. You couldn’t piece it together and that makes you mad at yourself. How could you let this happen? How could you not remember anything?

Still, life moves forward. Your days carried on with a semblance of normalcy. The servants bustled about, tending to their endless duties, their chatter filling the quiet corners of the palace. You found comfort in routine, spending your hours with Chiharu and Chizuru, who had become your closest companions. 

Chiharu’s bright laughter and Chizuru’s sharp sense of humor made the days easier, their presence grounding you in a way Sukuna never had. In some ways, your joy comes from being their mother more than being Sukuna’s wife. Perhaps you had noticed that more and more now that your husband was too busy ignoring you again.

Yet, despite your efforts to immerse yourself in the calm, Ryomen Sukuna’s absence hung over you like a shadow. He had always been a looming presence in your life—commanding, unpredictable, impossible to ignore. But now, it was as if he had disappeared entirely. He no longer sought you out, no longer invaded your space with his suffocating intensity.

At first, you were relieved. His distance gave you a peace you hadn’t known in years. You could breathe without the weight of his gaze, could think without the distraction of his proximity. You liked the quiet. You needed it.

But as the days turned into weeks, you began to notice the emptiness his absence left behind. It wasn’t longing, not in the way you might have expected. It was something else; a nagging curiosity, an itch in the back of your mind that refused to be ignored.

Why had he stopped?

You replayed your last interactions with him over and over, searching for clues. Had you said something to offend him? Have you done something wrong? Or was this simply another one of his whims, a fleeting disinterest that would fade as quickly as it had come?

One afternoon, as you sat in the garden with Chiharu and Chizuru, the questions weighed heavier than usual. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of insects filled the air, a perfect backdrop for the idle conversation that flowed between your companions.

“The plum blossoms are so beautiful this year, mother.” Chiharu said, her voice bright with excitement. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing the delicate petals of a nearby branch. “Don’t you think so?”

“They’re the same every year, nee–sama.” Chizuru replied, rolling his eyes with a teasing smile. “You act as if it’s your first time seeing them.”

Chiharu pouted at her younger brother. “Well, maybe you’re just too jaded to appreciate them anymore, little brother!”

“Nee-sama, take that back!

“No, I won’t!”

Their banter usually brought a smile to your face, but today, their words barely registered. Your gaze drifted to the distant silhouette of Heaven’s Hall, its grandeur standing in stark contrast to the serenity of the garden. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it held answers to the questions swirling in your mind.

“Are you all right, mother?” Chiharu’s voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to her concerned expression. “You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I suppose.”

Chizuru narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze cutting through your facade. He looked almost like his father at that moment.  “Tired, or thinking about something you don’t want to say, mother?”

You shook your head, brushing off her words with a light laugh. “Nothing worth mentioning, my little love. Really.”

But as the conversation resumed, your thoughts wandered once more. Later, as you walked back to your quarters alone, your steps slowed as you neared Heaven’s Hall. The towering structure loomed ahead, its marble pillars catching the fading light of the setting sun.

You stopped, your gaze lingering on the grand doors. Something about it unsettled you, yet it also pulled at you, as if it held the answers you sought. You could almost hear the faint echo of footsteps, the ghost of something forgotten stirring in the corners of your mind.

Your hand twitched at your side, a part of you tempted to step inside, to confront whatever it was that refused to let you go. But you hesitated, the weight of uncertainty holding you back.

With a shake of your head, you turned away, forcing your feet to carry you toward Vermillion Hall. It was better not to know, you told yourself. Sukuna’s silence was a gift, a reprieve from his consuming presence. You weren’t foolish enough to disrupt it.

And yet, as the days stretched on, the questions only grew louder, pressing against your thoughts with an intensity you couldn’t ignore. What had happened that night? Why had everything changed so suddenly?

Most of all, why did it feel like Sukuna’s absence was not just a relief, but a mystery begging to be unraveled?

The day had passed uneventfully, filled with the usual duties at the main temple. You had grown accustomed to these quiet, almost meditative tasks: managing the offerings, overseeing the attendants, ensuring everything ran smoothly.

It was a peaceful life, one that was slowly allowing you to forget the intensity of the emotions that once surrounded Sukuna.

But today, the quiet seemed more oppressive than comforting, the silence pressing in around you like a weight. The questions still clung to the back of your mind, refusing to be silenced.

After completing your tasks, you found yourself seeking out Uraume. They were a quiet figure, always observing, always present but rarely speaking. Perhaps they could provide some insight into the strange distance Sukuna had placed between you.

They had been in his service long enough to know when something was amiss, and their loyalty to him was unwavering. Surely, if anyone knew what had happened, it would be Uraume.

You found them in a quiet hallway, their eyes momentarily lifting from the scroll they were reading as they noticed you approaching. Their expression remained neutral, but there was an unreadable glint in their eyes.

“Uraume.” you started, keeping your voice even. “I wanted to ask you about something. Something… personal.”

Uraume tilted their head slightly, studying you. They were always cautious around you, as though they knew that even the slightest change in your tone could signal a question they didn’t want to answer.

"What is it you wish to know, my lady?" they asked carefully, their voice soft but calculated.

You hesitated, unsure how to approach the subject without making it too obvious. But there was no time for half-measures now. You needed to know.

“That night… in Heaven’s Hall. I don’t remember much. But I know something happened. Between me and my lord. I need to understand. I need help to remember. So, if you would….please help me regain—”

Uraume's gaze shifted, their eyes briefly flicking away. For a moment, you wondered if they would say anything at all. But then they met your gaze again, a small frown tugging at the corners of their mouth. 

"My lord’s affairs are not for me to discuss with others, my lady." they replied, their tone so measured it almost felt rehearsed. "I do not know what you speak of."

The response stung, more than you expected. It wasn’t just the refusal to answer; it was the certainty in their voice, the unyielding loyalty that seemed to close off any hope of learning the truth. You swallowed the frustration rising in your chest, trying to push it back, but it simmered nonetheless.

"Uraume, I—" you began, but they had already turned their gaze away, as though the conversation was over. 

They bowed slightly, the gesture polite but distant. "If that is all, my lady, I have matters to attend to."

Your chest tightened as they made to leave, and for a moment, you considered pressing further. But something told you it would be futile. Uraume was loyal to Sukuna above all else, and their silence wasn’t accidental—it was a guard, a wall you couldn’t break. You cannot expect someone like them to choose you over their master.

Feeling the weight of your unanswered questions settle heavier on you, you turned and walked away, your thoughts swirling with a mix of irritation and confusion. The frustration you’d been pushing down surged to the surface, bubbling up in a sharp, bitter wave.

As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of something that made your heart skip a beat.

From a distance, near the large pillars that lined the edge of the courtyard, you saw him. 

Ryomen Sukuna, with his dark eyes boring into your figure.

Your lord husband was watching you, with such focus.

His gaze was steady, his scarlet eyes locked onto you with an intensity that was unmistakable. There was no mistaking the weight of it, even from a distance. The way his eyes pinned you in place, as if he could see through every thought, every feeling you were trying to hide.

You stopped in your tracks. For a split second, it felt as if time slowed, the space between you and him stretching. Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively felt the pull of his gaze, the silent command it carried. It was as if he were drawing you in, pulling you closer without saying a word.

But you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t approach him—not when everything felt so… unfinished, so raw. The frustration from your encounter with Uraume flared inside you, and the last thing you wanted was to face Sukuna with that vulnerability hanging over you. Not when he seemed to be watching you with that same detached, unreadable expression.

You didn’t wait a second longer. You turned quickly, your steps brisk as you made your way down the hall, away from his gaze, away from whatever strange pull he had over you. Your heart raced, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You had to leave before you did something foolish.

But even as you hurried down the hall, you couldn’t escape the feeling that Sukuna’s eyes never left your back.

══════════════════

RYOMEN SUKUNA CAN’T HELP IT. The smell of you that remained on this silk handkerchief was powerful. He can’t stop. Not right now. Not at this moment. The silken fabric glides over Sukuna’s fingertips, its delicate touch igniting a shiver that travels through him, a contrast to the hard lines of his frame. 

The room feels smaller, darker, as he leans into the sensation, pressing the silk to his face and inhaling slowly. The scent is intoxicating, carrying the essence of you. Something warm, elusive, and utterly tormenting. His dark scarlet eyes flutter shut as a sigh parts his lips, betraying the barrier he usually holds so tightly.

Every breath feels heavier, resonating with the silent thrum beneath his skin, a rhythm that’s more than just desire. Everything about it was a pull that shakes his control. He drags the fabric down the line of his jaw, its whisper against his skin making his pulse quicken. 

He could feel the closeness and yet distance of you driving him deeper into the edge of yearning. His own touch is rougher now, less restrained as he presses the silk to the hollow of his throat, feeling the heat rise within him, warmth spreading like a slow burn.

A groan escapes, low and gravelly, as if torn from the depths of him, echoing in the silence. The sensation of his hands moving, the silk brushing over his chest and further, turns into a private ritual of surrender.

Each sweep of the fabric sparks against nerves like embers. The ghostly presence of you envelops him, the way you would breathe against his skin, the way your fingertips would linger with a feather-light tease.

The complexity of it all is the very reason he won’t dare cross the distance between you, why this is the only way he allows himself to know the softness you carry. It’s both bliss and torment, this delicate line he walks, trembling under the weight of the scent and the way it melds into the heat of his own breath. 

His movements become slower, more deliberate, savoring every moment until there’s nothing left but the ragged edge of satisfaction mixed with the stark silence of solitude. His mind swirls with the thought of you, laid out beneath him, your skin flushed and breath coming in soft, shuddering gasps. 

"My lord….my Sukuna." you would whisper, voice low and dripping with need, eyes wide and filled with trust and anticipation. The sound of your voice in his imagination alone makes him clench his jaw, his breath catching as heat unfurls within him.

“Say it again, little one.” he imagines himself growling, his tone both a command and a plea. His hand moves, firm and deliberate, stroking along his length as he pictures the way you’d obey, the way you’d bite your lip before moaning his name once more, the sound of it desperate and broken.

“Please, my lord.” your voice echoes in his head, needy and soft. 

The thought drives him to the brink, his body responding to the phantom sound as if you were really there. The groan that slips from his lips is deep, guttural, filling the dark room. His hips bucked against his own touch, chasing the sensation, needing it, needing you.

"Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Only me." he imagines saying, the rasp in his voice trembling at the edge of restraint. 

He pictures your eyes locking onto his, the way they’d cloud over as he takes you apart piece by piece. His pace quickens, hand swirling tighter as he lets himself fall further into the fantasy, into the imagined warmth of your skin against his, the velvet feel of your touch.

“My lord—oh, Sukuna!” you’d moan, this time louder, the way he likes. His muscles tense as he shudders, everything building to that blinding point of no return. 

The room falls silent but for the sound of his own gasps, as the pleasure crashes over him, leaving only the thrum of his heartbeat and the haunting ache of wanting more than this moment, more than just shadows and longing.

Sukuna’s breath comes in short, ragged bursts as his hips move faster, instinct guiding his hand as he chases the release that teeters just out of reach. The image of you beneath him, eyes glassy and lips swollen, clings to his mind with fierce clarity. 

He can almost feel the way your body would shudder, the way you'd gasp and cling to him, the sensation of being deep within you as you take him, body trembling and surrendering completely. The tension in him coils tighter, the thought of you so full of him that he can see it in the way your body arches, pressing against him, drawing him deeper. 

“Take it all, little one. Take all of me. Please. Please—oh…..” he imagines growling, the dark intensity of the command vibrating through the silence.

His hand moves with desperation, the slick glide mimicking the fantasy in his mind, where every breath from you is a soft plea and every moan is edged with that delicious note of submission that drives him wild.

The imagined feel of your warmth, of your walls tightening around him, pushes him over the edge. His body tenses, muscles rigid as the wave crashes through him, a guttural groan spilling from his lips, raw and deep.

Pleasure surges, blinding and consuming, leaving him breathless and sprawled in the silence that follows, the echoes of his need fading into the stillness of the room.

When the tremors subside, he opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving. The room feels emptier now, haunted by the echoes of your phantom touch and the aching reminder that you’re not here.

The need has been sated for now, but the longing, that ever-present hunger for you, remains unsatisfied, gnawing at him with a dark, insatiable hunger.

He looks down at the silk fabric, occupied by his fluids.

Sukuna felt his lips tighten at the sight of it, so full of him.

He ruined you, he keeps ruining you �� and he would not stop.

Ryomen Sukuna stood up, and looks at the potion.

He could not take it, he could not take that guilt.

His hands takes it brashly towards his lips and drank.

Ryomen Sukuna wants to forget how he hurt you.

══════════════════

YOU MAKE HASTE TO GET READY. Sukuna’s summons arrives as a simple, imperious command, and yet it sends a thrill down your spine. You looked at Uraume and merely nodded. Your husband was that sort of man. He only wishes for you when he ends up at the end of his wits. But you cannot say much about it. You ought not to.

It’s been quite a few weeks gone and past since the two of you sat together without the press of others’ watchful eyes or the weight of duties. And because of that, things would be different between the two of you, well at least until that awkward distance disappears with some comfort with some time spent together.

When you enter the grand dining hall, he’s already seated, the firelight casting a warm glow over his sharp features, softening the edge of his usual scowl. His crimson eyes lift to meet yours, something unreadable flickering behind them before he gives a subtle nod.

“Sit, little one.” he says, and though the tone is clipped, there’s a trace of something gentler woven beneath. 

You take your place across from him, and a faint smile tugs at your lips as the first drink of sake is poured for you.  Another bountiful pour of special drink for him.

It had taken some time for tongues to become loose. The silence between you is not strained but filled with anticipation, as if the weeks apart have made every unspoken word hum with importance.

The conversation unfolds slowly, naturally. The tension in his shoulders loosens as he sips from his cup, scarlet eyes softening when you speak of your children. Everything about your children brought the two of you closer. That's how it was.

You both talked abotu everything. Their laughter, their small victories at Jujutsu, the way they remind you of him in ways both stubborn and tender. Chizuru had finally learned how to control his cursed energy. Chiharu had discovered a new technique of her own, defeating her mentor. 

Your husband listens, occasionally offering a rare chuckle or a subtle smirk, and you realize just how much you missed this: the shared warmth, the unguarded moments when he’s more than the king, more than the conqueror. He perhaps did not love you. But you wanted his comfort, his warmth. In some ways, you wanted to be his. 

Not in ownership, no. But to….to have been cared for in some way by him. Of course, it would not be close to his feelings for Ryomen Hiromi. You had long accepted that. Still, you wanted warmth from him.

You wanted to carve your way through his heart, and let yourself have a home in it. At least what was left. Yet, you would never say that out loud. It was not your place. It never has been.

“Do you remember when Chiharu first tried to use her powers?” you ask, laughter bubbling in your voice. Sukuna’s lips quirk up at the memory, a shadow of pride crossing his face.

“The girl was quite fearless, I admit.” he replies, a hint of admiration in his voice. “But she still needs some work.”

You smiled. “My lord, I am certain you can find that Chiharu is one to be proud of. The work has paid off.”

“Hm. I suppose it has.” He says to you, his eyes tender. “But I cannot take the credit.”

“Nor can I, my lord.” You whisper back to him, a small smile on your lips. “I am not her only parent.”

He shakes his head. “No, no. To her, little one? You are the only one that matters.”

Everything from then seems to shrink around the two of you, the space intimate and alive with a marriage lived in many years and many dimensions — such of which the world will never know or be privy to. No. This belongs only to the two of you. No one else.

As the evening deepens, the wine flows more freely, and the conversation shifts, softening at the edges. Sukuna leans forward, his eyes catching the flicker of firelight. Your husband was studying you with a gaze that pierces through the veil of time and distance.

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are, of how his fingers drum lightly on the table, mere inches from yours. He couldn't stop, looking at you. Yearning for warmth that only you could provide.

Without thinking, you close the gap. Your hand brushes his, and before you can second-guess, you lean forward and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters of familiarity, but he responds almost immediately. 

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger that’s been banked too long. The room falls away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the heat and urgency of reconnection, mouths moving with the desperation of lovers long apart.

When you pull back, both breathless, his eyes search yours, softer now, vulnerable in a way that’s rare and precious.

“It’s been too long, little one.” he murmurs, voice rough but honest, and you nod, a smile curving your lips as you press your forehead to his, savoring the moment and the promise of more to come.

The silence stretches between you, but it’s charged, buzzing with an unspoken need. The kiss lingers in the air, the taste of him still warm on your lips. There is no more talking now, only the thrum of anticipation as Sukuna’s eyes, deep and darkened with desire, lock onto yours. 

His hand tightens at the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his mouth crashes against yours again, fiercer this time. The room is awash in the scarlet glow of the fire, shadows dancing as if to the rhythm of your heartbeats.

Your hands find their way to his chest, fingers splaying over the hard muscle beneath his robes as you feel his heart pound beneath your touch. He shifts, rising from his chair with a graceful power that makes your breath catch.

In one swift movement, he pulls you up, the table pushed aside as if it were an afterthought, and suddenly, you're against him, your body pressed against the solid heat of his form.

Sukuna’s lips trail down your jaw to the pulse at your neck, teeth grazing as his breath comes hot against your skin. You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, wordlessly urging him on.

His hands roam, one sliding down your back, pressing your hips into his, while the other explores the curve of your waist, anchoring you as if afraid to let go.

Your senses blur; the feeling of his tongue tracing along the line of your collarbone sends shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, needing more. The sound of your breathless moans, mingled with the quiet growl he makes against your skin, fills the room. 

Sukuna lifts you easily, his strength effortless as he sets you on the edge of the table, stepping between your legs and pressing into you until there’s nothing but heat and the throb of shared longing.

Your eyes meet, and for a moment, the intensity softens. His thumb brushes your cheek, a surprising gentleness in the midst of the fervor, and then his lips are on yours again.

Over and over, he pushed forward with wanton desire. His lips wanted more. Tasting, claiming, as his hands slide lower, pulling you closer, drawing a shiver of pleasure that melts the last traces of restraint.

The world around you fades to nothing but the sensation of him, the rush of your bodies entwined in a dance that is both savage and intimate. Everything is raw, animalistic, as if the very air crackles with the weight of longing that has built up over the weeks apart. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s grip on you is commanding, pulling you closer, pressing you against him with a desperate need that makes you gasp, your body trembling in response.

The slick warmth of his skin against yours is intoxicating, a heady mixture of heat and urgency that makes it feel like there’s no time to waste. His lips are on you again, claiming you with a hunger that mirrors the way his body moves against yours.

Each thrust, each slow drag of his hips, drives deeper, the pressure building between you until it's unbearable. You can feel the pulse in his veins, the steady throb of him that echoes in your own body, matching the rhythm of your heart as it races wildly.

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes, but they’re not from pain, no. They’re from something deeper, something more overwhelming. The vulnerability of the moment, the overwhelming sensation of him taking you, claiming you fully, fills you with an emotion that crashes over you like a wave. 

Your breath hitches as you bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the rush of feelings threatening to break free. But Sukuna’s groan, low and almost animalistic, makes your resolve shatter, and you let go, surrendering completely to the pleasure, to the connection that binds you to him.

His body throbs with each movement, the pulse of his veins like a living thing inside you, the rhythm of it so steady and consuming that it feels as if you’re both part of the same beating heart. 

The force of it, the heat and pressure, makes you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams, but in the best way, as if every inch of you is being remade, redefined by his presence, by the way he fills you completely. There’s nothing but him now, no walls, no distance, just the two of you locked together in a way that feels timeless, primal.

You feel whole with him, in a way you’ve never felt before. The empty spaces that have haunted you, the ones you couldn’t even name; all of it seems to vanish in the intensity of the moment. How could it not, when he rules you in everything, body, heart and soul?

His body is a fierce warmth that wraps around you, grounding you, making you feel like you’ve always belonged to him, and he to you. It’s a feeling that is so deep, so consuming, that it transcends the physical, filling you with a sense of completeness that makes the rest of the world irrelevant.

The sound of his breath, deep and erratic, mingles with the rhythm of your own, and you’re both lost in the storm you’ve created. There are no words anymore, just the quiet, rhythmic echo of your bodies moving together, caught in the tide of sensation that threatens to drown you both.

And in the heart of it all, as you feel him throb inside you, a whisper of truth cuts through the haze: You are his, and he is yours, bound together in this moment of raw, unyielding connection. Nothing else can compare. And for a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought about it too. 

══════════════════

THE POTION DIDN'T WORK FOR LONG. He remembered everything. All of it. And he thinks he felt sick. Sick to the core. He hated it. He hated himself. He knew he was a cruel man, a foolish man. How could he do that? How could he do that to you?

Everything was wrong about him. And you deserved more than him. It was a continual rinse and repeat. The cycle was suffocating, each time growing more suffused with an unspoken tension that neither of you could escape. 

Ryomen Sukuna, ever the stoic, had felt that sharp pang of guilt again. It always caught him when he least expected it, the ghost of an emotion he tried so hard to suppress. The way you looked at him was always with eyes full of tenderness, full of trust. And everything about it had haunted him in those quiet moments. 

But guilt was a weakness, a human frailty that did not belong to him. He had learned to bury it, to lock it away with all the other feelings he refused to confront. And so, once again, the weight of that emotion was swallowed by the darkness he carried within himself, and he moved on.

You, on the other hand, were trapped in a cycle of confusion. The potion was seamless, subtle in its potency. One moment, you were wrapped in a night of passion, tangled with him in a world that felt more real than anything else. 

But the next, everything was gone. No memory of his touch, of the way he had made you feel; no trace of the connection you had shared. Just a deep sense of something missing, a gnawing hole that you couldn’t understand. 

The fog in your mind only deepened when you tried to recall the details. It was as though you had forgotten how to ask the right questions, and even when you tried, the answers weren’t there. Sukuna felt bitter and sick about his own actions. 

The potion worked too well.

And so, you found yourself caught in the same pattern, over and over. Confusion, followed by fleeting glimpses of something that should be familiar but never quite is. Each time you reached out for him, whether for comfort or answers—there was a distance, an impenetrable coldness that he wrapped around himself. 

The more you tried to close that gap, the further he seemed to pull away. You would ask, softly at first, tentatively: "Why do you look at me like that?" or "What happened?" But Sukuna never answered. 

His gaze would flicker, distant, uninterested, as if the question itself were a nuisance. He would look at you for a moment, but never fully engage, never fully reach for you. The warmth you once had between you felt as though it had turned to ice.

And it stung.

You would find yourself alone in the aftermath, wondering what had changed. Wondering what you had done wrong, what you had missed. It wasn’t like him to ignore you. Not in the way he did now. His absence wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, like he had shut a door between you that you couldn’t get through. 

His indifference was sharper than any anger he could have thrown your way. Each time you tried to get closer, to break through the cold silence that had enveloped him, the distance seemed to grow. It was as if the very act of reaching out to him had become a punishment, one you didn’t understand.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, that this time, the disconnection wasn’t just a hunch for you. No, it was not just a guess. You couldn’t even remember how many times this had happened now, but each time it was harder to ignore, harder to pretend that you weren’t losing something you could never get back. 

The confusion was maddening, the way you had to fight against your own mind to remember pieces of a night that had been so vivid, so full of promise. You could almost feel him there, his presence heavy and undeniable, but the memories always slipped away, as if they belonged to someone else.

And then, there was Sukuna. Unreachable, aloof, silent. He would turn away when you looked at him for too long, pretending not to notice the ache in your gaze, the way you waited for him to explain. He never did. 

And when you pressed, he became colder, more detached, his disinterest palpable. He ignored you, avoided your touch, and the more you tried to understand, the more he made it clear that you were not meant to.

He had been there—yes, he had been. But now, when you needed him most, when you tried to break through to him, he wasn’t. Not really.

It left you questioning everything. What have you lost? What was real? What had he erased? And why, no matter how hard you tried, did it feel as if you were always walking in circles, never getting closer to the truth? It was as though you were always on the outside of something, always knocking on the door but never able to step inside.

It wasn’t just the potion anymore. Something deeper had shifted, something that even Ryomen Sukuna couldn’t hide beneath his cold, indifferent exterior. The question now was whether you would ever get the chance to find out what.

You sit in silence, your fingers drumming on the edge of the table, eyes trained on Sukuna as he remains seated across from you. His gaze is cold, unreadable, but there's a flicker in his eyes, a subtle shift in the way he watches you, as though he's aware of the question you haven't lived yet.

The air between you feels heavier than usual, suffused with the unspoken tension that’s been building for weeks. You can’t ignore it anymore—the gnawing sense that something is slipping through your fingers, something important. And the more you try to hold onto it, the more it fades.

You finally break the silence, your voice quiet but determined.

“I… I feel like I’m forgetting things. Important things, my lord.” you admit, not meeting his gaze. The words feel heavy on your tongue, almost like admitting something you don’t want to be true.

Sukuna remains still, his crimson eyes narrowing just slightly, watching you with that same detached intensity. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t speak. You can feel the air grow thick with the weight of his silence, and it only makes the ache inside you grow sharper.

“Like what?” His voice is low, measured, but there's a faint edge to it that you can’t quite place. He knows what you’re talking about. Of course he does.

“I don’t know, my lord.” you mutter, frustration leaking into your voice. “It’s like I wake up and there’s a hole in my memory. Pieces are missing. And I—I can’t even remember what happened the night before. It’s like I’m walking through fog, like everything is just out of reach.” 

You raise your eyes to meet him, searching for something—anything—in his gaze. “I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’m losing myself.”

Sukuna leans back in his chair, his posture casual, but there's something unreadable about his expression. His fingers drum lightly on the armrest, a rhythm that matches the quickening beat of your heart.

You wait for him to say something, anything, but he remains silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on you, as though weighing something important in his mind.

“You know what’s happening, my lord.” you say, your voice suddenly a little sharper, more desperate. “You must know. I feel like you’re hiding something from me. Why—why won’t you just tell me? What am I forgetting? Why does it feel like you’re slipping away from me, every time I try to reach you?”

A dark, fleeting look crosses his face—something almost guilty, but it’s gone too quickly for you to catch it fully. Instead, his lips curl into that familiar, mocking smirk, but it’s lacking the usual bite.

“I’m not hiding anything, little one.” he replies, his voice low, but there’s an undercurrent of something dark in it. “It’s your mind, not mine. You’ve always had a tendency to forget what’s inconvenient. It's your own fault.”

Your chest tightens at his words. It’s not the answer you wanted—not even close. You lean forward, trying to control the emotions threatening to spill over. You were exhausted with this. You cannot take anymore of this.

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that, my lord.” You shake your head, feeling a bitter frustration rise in you. “I feel like I’m going insane. One moment, everything feels so real, and the next... it’s gone. And I—I know it’s not just me. Something is happening, and you’re the only one who doesn’t seem bothered by it.”

Sukuna’s smirk fades, and for the briefest moment, something flickers across his face. It’s not guilt, but it’s close, something between acknowledgment and dismissal. He doesn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch until it’s almost unbearable.

Finally, he speaks, his tone heavier now, more controlled. “Maybe you’re remembering things you shouldn’t, little one. You don’t need to know everything. Some things are better left forgotten.”

The weight of his words sinks into you like a stone, and you feel the truth of it in your chest, the way it sits there, cold and heavy. You swallow hard, trying to push past the confusion and hurt that swirl in your mind.

“Is that it, then, my lord?” you ask, voice breaking a little, though you try to steady yourself. “You think I should forget all of it? Forget the parts of me that belong to you? Forget about everything that could be important? My lord, that is cruel.”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes darken, the cold distance in them sharpening again, but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward slightly, his presence looming, like a predator assessing its prey. He doesn’t want to play his part. But it must. He had made it this far. He ought to own it.

“Stop asking questions you know I won’t answer. You know how this works.” His tone turns almost icy, cutting through the air. “What you remember doesn’t matter. Only what I allow you to remember does.”

You stare at him, the truth of it settling in like a weight in your gut. His words are like a bitter truth you can't swallow, but it doesn’t make them any less real. The distance between you widens again, suffocating, and you’re left staring at him, unsure whether to be angry or broken.

"Then why even keep me here, my lord?" you whisper, more to yourself than to him. The question feels pointless as soon as it leaves your lips, but it lingers, a sharp sting in the air. “You ought to send me to the Cold Hall. Or leave me be.”

For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna remains silent, his gaze flickering toward you with an unreadable expression. Then, he leans back, his features hardening into that impenetrable mask. 

“Because, little one…” he says, his voice low and deliberate. “I can. And I will.”

And just like that, the space between you becomes an abyss again, and you’re left wondering if you’ll ever get the answers you crave—or if, in time, you’ll forget you even asked. You turned away from him. You could feel his gaze bore a hole on the back of your head. But he noticed everything. He was no fool. 

Tears poured from your eyes.

You tried to quickly wipe them away.

But as you wiped them, more came by.

Even your body knows you were miserable.

Even your body knows something’s missing.

Something is wrong.

══════════════════

YOU ONCE MORE LOCKED YOURSELF AWAY IN VERMILLION HALL. You refused to see your husband and perhaps that was for the best. You had cried yourself to sleep for days now, the frustration eating away at you like an insidious thing. The weight of unanswered questions, the endless confusion, it had all built up and bled into your dreams.

The emotions had overwhelmed you to the point where sleep seemed like the only escape, the only refuge from the torment of not knowing. But sleep, as you soon discovered, offered no solace. It was restless and fleeting, filled with fragments of images, of faces, of a life you could never fully remember.

But when you woke, it wasn’t to the comfort of the blankets you had once found so familiar. No, you woke to an entirely different feeling—a sharp, searing pain that stabbed into your core, as if something inside you had broken open. 

It wasn’t a pain you had ever felt before, and it was so intense that it left you gasping for air, clutching at the sheets in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening to you. You felt like you were drowning, it felt like you were being stabbed.

Your mind was foggy, clouded with the remnants of your dreams and the confusion of the past days, but you didn’t need clarity to know that something was wrong. The pain was unbearable.

It was harshly crawling beneath your skin, wrapping around your insides with a terrible urgency. You frantically pulled at the blankets, your hands trembling as you tried to understand what was happening.

When you looked down, your breath hitched in your throat. Blood. It stained your sheets, pooling beneath you in stark, alarming contrast to the softness of the fabric. You groaned over and over in grievous pain.

Panic surged through you, a wave of shock and terror, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the fear choking you. You couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t wrap your mind around the sight before you.

You cried out, the sound raw and full of terror, your voice hoarse from the tears you had already shed. “Help me.” you whispered, your throat thick with panic, “Please…”

Within moments, your servants appeared soon; they were quick, frantic, their faces filled with concern and confusion. They rushed to your side, trying to assess the situation, to comfort you, but nothing they did could quell the overwhelming pain or the terror that gripped your chest.

“What happened? What’s wrong, my lady?” one of them asked, her voice trembling with concern as she hurried to help you sit up, her hands gently lifting the blood-soaked sheets away from your body.

You could barely answer, the pain making it impossible to form coherent words. All you could do was sob, clinging to them as if they could somehow stop the agony, stop the deep, hollow ache that was consuming you.

One of your servants hurried out, calling for help, while the others tried to tend to you as best as they could, offering comfort, but the fear in their eyes mirrored your own. Something was terribly wrong.

And no matter how many times you tried to explain it, tried to understand it yourself, you were left with more questions than answers. Why were you bleeding like this? What had happened to you? What were you forgetting?

The answers felt just out of reach, like a secret too dangerous to uncover. And the more you tried to grasp them, the more you sank into the unknown. You were crying endlessly, crying out in pain with or without the voice to do so.

Your servants worked swiftly, their hands trembling as they tried to stabilize you, but their movements felt like a blur, the world spinning around you. Their frantic whispers only heightened the feeling of helplessness clawing at your chest. 

One of them, a younger woman with dark eyes, pressed a cloth against your body, trying to stop the bleeding, but it felt like a losing battle. The blood stained your skin, soaking into the fabric of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you.

You could feel yourself becoming dizzy, your vision blurring as the pain intensified. Each pulse of pain seemed to radiate outward, as though it was coming from deep within, tearing at the fabric of your body, but you couldn't grasp why. Your thoughts were scattered, lost in a haze of fear and confusion.

"Stay with us, my lady. Please." one of the servants pleaded, her voice strained with panic. "We'll get help, please, just stay awake."

You barely heard her. The pain was too much, drowning out everything else. And then, a voice from the door, a voice you hadn’t heard in a long while had cut through the chaos. You couldn’t see his face. But his voice, it was the clearest it has ever been.

"Enough." Sukuna's voice rang out, cold and commanding. He appeared in the doorway, his gaze falling on the scene before him, and for a moment, everything stopped.

Your breath caught in your throat, the pain momentarily forgotten as you locked eyes with him. He looked unchanged, as imposing as ever, but there was something in his expression, something almost unreadable as he stepped closer.

“What’s going on?” His voice was low, but it was laced with an unfamiliar tension, something far removed from the indifference you’d come to expect from him.

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your body trembling too violently, too weak to form any coherent thoughts. Your breath hitched as another wave of pain shot through you, sharper than before.

It felt like something inside you was breaking open, tearing apart. The physical pain was unbearable, but it was the emotional toll that made you feel as if you were unraveling at the seams.

"S–she's losing too much blood, my lord." one of the servants said, trying to explain, but her voice faltered under Sukuna’s unwavering gaze. “My lady is bleeding and…we do not know why.

Ryomen Sukuna’s scarlet eyes narrowed slightly, his focus shifting to you. For the first time in a long while, something like concern flickered in his gaze, though it was masked by the familiar coldness that surrounded him.

He approached, kneeling at your side with a fluid, deliberate motion. Your cries were bellowing over and over against his ears. He could see it from where you embraced your body, the blood. 

His hand hovered over you, but he hesitated, as if unsure what to do. There was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he had known this story before. But you didn’t want to question him. You couldn’t. You were in too much pain to do so.

“What happened?” he repeated, his voice softer now, but there was an edge of command in it.

“I—I don’t know, my lord.” you gasped, each breath shallow, the words barely escaping your lips. “It hurts so much... I’m—I'm bleeding. I don’t know why.”

His eyes flickered briefly to your servants, who seemed to retreat slightly, their discomfort obvious, unsure of how to proceed. But Sukuna's attention remained solely on you, the deep crimson of his gaze scanning over your trembling form. 

The tension in his jaw tightened. He didn't speak right away, but there was something in his regal posture, there was something predatory in the way his eyes locked onto you that made it clear he was piecing something together.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice almost too calm. "What were you doing before this happened?" he asked, his words cold but controlled, as if you should have already known the answer.

You struggled to keep your focus, the pain blurring your thoughts, but the question cut through the haze. You had been trying to remember, hadn't you? You had been trying to understand what had happened between the two of you, what had led to this moment.

“I—I don’t know…I was resting and I just….” you whispered, tears slipping from your eyes as you looked at him, feeling helpless. “I was trying to understand… but I can’t. Everything’s… everything’s slipping away. It’s like I’m losing pieces of myself.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of something. Was it regret?—crossing his face before he masked it again. He looked at the servants and nodded once, a quick, sharp motion. You did not know. You did not wish to know.  

"Leave us. All of you." he commanded. "I’ll handle this."

They hesitated for a moment, but his tone left no room for argument. One by one, they filed out of the room, leaving you alone with him. The silence was oppressive, thick with unspoken words and tension.

Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze returned to you, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly small, the pain in your body sharp and real, but the uncertainty in your heart was just as consuming. 

“I should’ve known better, little one.” he muttered, more to himself than to you, as if grappling with something he hadn’t fully admitted.

“Please…” you breathed, the words almost a plea. “I need to understand. What’s happening to me? Why am I—”

“Stop asking questions, little one.” he interrupted, his voice commanding, but softer now. He leaned closer to you, his hand hovering over the pool of blood as if sensing something, feeling the pulse of whatever was inside you. 

There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something that almost felt like guilt, but Ryomen Sukuna never allowed that weakness to surface.

He turns away for a moment, to look at the clear water in the silver basin. He could see his reflection, he could see the monster. He pauses. He purses his lips in a flat line.

“You were never meant to suffer this, little one.” he said, his voice low and grave, the truth of it settling in your chest. “And now… now it’s coming back to haunt us both.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make sense of it. But the look in his eyes, the way his hands trembled as he reached for you, told you that the answers you sought were far more dangerous than you could have imagined.

What could be the meaning of the truth? 

Was it all truly worth it, finding out everything?

Tears pooled over your eyes, melting in with your sweat.

“I am sorry, little one.” He says, his voice low as he brushes your hair away from your eyes. He smiles with such sorrow. The most you’ve ever seen in your long life with him. “I had made you suffer again, have I?”

A guttering sob echoes from your lips, tears flowing ever more abundantly. The fear echoes in your eyes as much as the pain did. Ryomen Sukuna let his hands become submerged into the water. He takes the wet cloth and starts to squeeze away at the heavy dues of water.

“This will hurt.” He whispers to you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Forgive me.”

══════════════════

HE HADN’T FOUND THE COURAGE TO LEAVE YOU. Not like this. Ryomen Sukuna stood in the quiet of the room, watching you as you lay pale and still beneath the blankets. Finally, you had found yourself resting.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the sleeping potion he'd given you working its way through your system to calm the pain and induce sleep. But sleep had come too late—too far after the damage had already been done. You were still, but the scars of what had happened remained.

He had felt it, the weight of his actions, sinking into the pit of his stomach like a stone. The guilt gnawed at him like an insistent whisper, and the more he tried to drown it out with silence, the louder it became. But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth clawed its way to the surface.

You had almost died once more. All because of him. All because he was a foolish man, a cruel man. An even crueler master, an even more foolish god. Everything about it was his fault and his alone. 

And because of it, there has to be a price. Fate did not care for the innocent nor the saints. It cared for retribution, for the price of the act be paid in full. And so, the life that had once flourished inside of you was gone now—taken away in a manner as cruel and sharp as the sins that had followed him throughout his existence.

Ryomen Sukuna could not even begin to process the violence of it all. The miscarriage—the life he had unknowingly torn away. The nights together, the heat of his desire, and the overwhelming need for you had been his undoing.

And now, the consequence was here, the result of his insatiable hunger for you. He had taken what was not his to take, and the cost of that was now clear.

It wasn’t just your body that had suffered. No, it was something deeper, something that would linger in him long after your recovery. The guilt, the realization that he was not invincible that his desires could bring destruction in their wake made his chest feel tight, suffocating.

He had wanted you. The way your presence made him feel alive, the way you fought him, the way you surrendered, had become a constant itch he couldn’t scratch.

But now, the price of his inability to stop, to control himself, to pull back, was laid bare in front of him. And now you suffer the consequences for him. His little one.

Sukuna reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against your forehead, lightly touching the dampness of your skin. You had no idea what had just happened.

You were unaware of the deep, catastrophic consequences of your union. And in this moment, he wished more than anything that you would wake, that he could make it right somehow.

But deep down, he knew there was no going back. This was his crime, and no amount of self-loathing could undo it.

His dark scarlet eyes, usually cold and ruthless, softened for a brief moment as they lingered on your sleeping face. He had always been a being of darkness, of overwhelming power and control. But in your presence, his control had slipped. And now, the consequences of that were too real to ignore.

Sukuna stood, the weight of his guilt threatening to collapse him under its force. He turned away, not trusting himself to stay there any longer, knowing that if he did, he might break under the pressure of what he had done. But as he left, as he retreated into the shadows, one thing was painfully clear: there was no redemption for him, not for this.

His craving for you, his sin, would always linger, a constant reminder of how even the most powerful could be undone by their own desires. Sukuna’s footsteps echoed through the quiet halls as he paced through the temple halls.

With each step weighted with a thousand thoughts that he could not escape. The dark emptiness of the space mirrored the turmoil in his mind, and the oppressive silence seemed to press in on him, suffocating him with its suffocating weight.

He had once been a king of curses, a being of unimaginable power. He had commanded nations, destroyed cities, and crushed anyone who dared oppose him. And yet, here he was. He found himself unable to leave.

He was there, standing at the edge of the abyss, unsure of what to do with the mess he had created. The guilt gnawed at him from the inside, a constant, unbearable reminder of his failure—not as a king, not as a god, but as something far more human than he had ever wished to admit.

He had wanted you. He had craved you with a hunger that was both consuming and insatiable. But now, that desire has cost you more than he could bear. Your life—your very being—had been reduced to an almost fatal casualty in the wake of his passion.

And the life that could have been, the child that had been growing inside you, was gone. All because of his weakness.

He stopped in front of a mirror, staring at his own reflection. His crimson eyes met his own, but he barely recognized the man staring back. He was no longer the powerful curse that had once ruled with an iron fist, no longer the being that felt above all others. He was just a hollow shell, a broken creature cursed by his own desires.

“You were never supposed to matter.” he muttered to himself, his voice raw with the edge of something close to self-loathing. “None of this was supposed to happen.”

His gaze fell, his hand coming up to grip the mirror's edge. His fingers curled into a fist, as if trying to destroy the reflection in front of him, to erase the reminder of his weakness.

But the image remained. The truth remained. He had been foolish, had allowed himself to feel, to need—and now, the consequences were irreversible.

He turned away from the mirror, his mind churning with the weight of everything that had happened. You had been so innocent in all of this, so unaware of what was going on behind the scenes. Of what his selfishness, his guilt, his cruelty — could do.

He could still see the confusion in your eyes when you had asked about your forgotten memories, the pleading look on your face as you tried to make sense of the fractured pieces of your past.

He had told you to forget, to accept what was happening without question. But deep down, he knew you were right. You deserve the truth. And yet, he could never give it to you.

Sukuna’s fists clenched once more, his chest tightening with the painful realization. What he had done to you, what he had done to your body, it could never be undone. The life inside you had been snuffed out before it could even have a chance to grow. And all because of him.

He could hear your soft, labored breaths echoing in his mind, the sound of your pain, your suffering. The thought of it almost brought him to his knees. But he couldn't stop. He couldn’t undo what had already been done.

He had wanted you too much, had wanted you in ways that consumed him. The guilt, the agony, it was all wrapped up in that same burning desire.

But no matter how much he hated himself for it, no matter how much he wanted to walk away and never look back, he knew he couldn’t leave you. Not when you had become so intricately tied to everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever craved.

With a deep, tortured sigh, Sukuna turned back to the door and made his way toward your room. He had no answers to give you, no redemption to offer. But he would be there. He couldn’t leave you, not now, not when he had already destroyed everything. 

The best he could do now was stay. To watch, to wait. To let the pain he had caused burn into him, until it became a part of him, a part of the inevitable price he would always pay for what he had done.

As he approached your door, he paused for a moment, his hand resting on the handle, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He wasn't sure what he expected from this encounter.

Was there still a part of him that hoped you could forgive him? Or was he simply there because, like the curse he was, he was tethered to you in ways that defied understanding?

He stepped into the room, his eyes immediately falling on you, lying so still in your slumber. The sight of you, fragile and broken, made his insides twist in a way he had never known. There was no redemption for him. Not now. Not after all of this.

But he was still here. And he would never leave.

He would never stop finding himself drawn to you.

And maybe that was the cruelest punishment of all.

══════════════════

THE HEALER HAD SAID TO REST AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. And you had done just that. The air around Vermillion Hall was thick with the sound of everyday life. Everything about it has made you feel healed more than anything. You could hear the children's laughter, servants going about their duties, and the occasional clink of crockery from the kitchen. 

The days had grown quieter since the incident, and though your body was slowly recovering, your heart still aches with the absence of what could have been. And yet, somehow, you weren’t alone. Not even when you wanted to. But perhaps, it was for the best.

Ryomen Sukuna’s presence had become an uninvited constant. At first, his decision to move to the nearby Repentance Hall had seemed insignificant. But now, with each passing day, you realized just how much of an impact it had on your life.

You were seated at a table in the sunlit dining room, carefully eating a small portion of food when Sukuna walked in, his figure tall and commanding even from across the room. His scarlet orbs flicked to you, but he said nothing as he made his way over to sit across from you. 

His posture was casual, but there was an unsettling weight in the air, as if his very presence was always carrying something unspoken. Perhaps that was just how intimidating your husband’s presence was. Everything about him was magnanimous. And it was hard to fight. It was hard to win against.

He watched you for a moment, studying the way you slowly ate. A sigh passed his lips, not one of impatience, but of something more complex. Something that was not as easy to read as before. Perhaps a silent acknowledgment of the burden neither of you had asked for. One that you would not want to talk about, not right now.

“You’re eating less, little one.” he commented, his voice low, but there was a certain sharpness to his tone.

You paused, the fork hovering in the air, before setting it down. "I’m fine, my lord." you said softly, your eyes meeting his own with a mix of weariness and frustration. “I’m just… still not hungry. I’m not used to being like this. The healer had said it was fine.”

Sukuna leaned back slightly in his chair, his dark gaze never leaving you. “It’s not about being used to it, little one.” he said, his voice colder now, as if he were speaking to a child rather than an equal. “It’s about getting better.”

“You hover upon me too much, my lord.”

“You are my concubine, my wife.” He tells you ever so bluntly. “And you are unwell. Should I just abandon you thus?”

There was a long silence between you two. His words were heavy, yet devoid of tenderness. He cared, in his own way, but never in a manner that you could decipher. His scarlet orbs tenderly flickered to the children playing outside, their sounds of joy drifting in through the window, before returning to you.

“Why did you move here, my lord?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence, your voice gentle but questioning. “The trip to the audience hall is longer than before with such a move. Heaven’s Hall is more convenient than this.”

You hadn’t asked him before; the question had never felt right, never appropriate in the swirl of chaos that had come in the aftermath of everything. Ryomen Sukuna’s lips quivered slightly at the question, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

"You really have to ask, little one?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze intense now, as if daring you to probe deeper. “I told you it was better this way.”

“Better?” you echoed, shaking your head in disbelief. “For whom, exactly? You barely speak to me. You don’t even explain why you’re here or why you’re…”

You trailed off, a bitter taste in your mouth as the words you had been holding back for so long finally spilled out. “Why are you staying here? My lord, this is…. What is this? What are you doing?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid. Sukuna did not flinch at your outburst, nor did he retreat. Instead, he remained as still as a stone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an almost unreadable expression.

"I cannot leave. Not like this. I do not want to be near you, after all that I have done." His voice was low, but there was something in the harshness of it that made you falter. "Do you think I want to be near you after what I’ve done? But I cannot leave you….I cannot. You are……."

He stops himself, his lips turning into a flat line. You tried to open your mouth to respond, but the words failed you. He wasn’t shouting, but there was a palpable tension in his words that sent a chill through you.

The truth of what had happened. The weight of the consequences was there between you, even if neither of you could fully confront it.

"I know….." he continued, his voice softer now, but still heavy with guilt.

"You’ve suffered because of me. More than I care to admit. But it’s not like I can undo what’s been done." He paused, his eyes flickering with something close to regret. "You don’t want me here. But it’s... easier this way. For you. For me. For the children.”

You stared at him, processing his words slowly. It was an admission of sorts, though he cloaked it in his usual arrogance. He wasn’t just here for the sake of proximity; he was here because, despite everything, he couldn’t bear to be entirely distant from you. 

There was something in your husband, something primal, something deeply conflicted that kept him bound to you, even if he didn’t know how to act on it. Sickening as it all is, painful as it all is — it keeps you both together. And almost like a game, both of you do not want to lose it and leave.

"But why the children?" you asked, your voice quieter now. "Why do you walk them in the morning, share meals with them when you barely speak to me? What do you want from me, my lord?"

He looked away then, his jaw tightening as if he were fighting against something inside. "I don’t know." he muttered, almost under his breath. His voice was rougher, as if the words themselves were a struggle to form. "I don’t know what I’m doing."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you as thick as the silence that wrapped around the room. You could feel his eyes on you, and you sensed something different in his gaze.

There was an unfamiliar vulnerability there; something far less like the commanding, untouchable king you had come to know, and more like something human, something raw. Finally, after a long pause, Sukuna’s eyes softened. Even for just for a second.

"I may not have been the one you thought you needed. I cannot say what you want me to say, to do what you want me to do, little one." he said slowly, his voice surprisingly calm. "But I’ll be here. In whatever way I can. I promised you that, haven’t I?"

You blinked, unsure whether to be relieved or frustrated by his admission. His presence, while undeniably constant, was still a riddle you couldn’t solve.

But something in the tone of his voice, in the way he had dropped his usual bravado, made you feel a flicker of something—a strange, uncertain hope.

"I’m trying, little one." he added softly, looking away from you again, as though not quite able to meet your gaze. "Trying to be… better. For you. For everything."

The words hung between you two, and though the weight of everything still lingered, a small part of you wondered—perhaps hoped—that there was more to his actions than you could see.

The silence that followed hung in the air, thick and laden with the weight of unspoken truths. You watched him as he shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes now focused on something beyond you, anything, it seemed, but you. 

His admission, raw and unrefined, left you uncertain about how to respond. He had never been one to reveal vulnerability, and now, with his words lingering in the space between you, you were unsure if you should reach out or retreat.

Sukuna cleared his throat, his usual arrogance beginning to seep back into his voice, though the softness that had briefly touched his words lingered beneath.

“I don’t expect you to understand, little one.” he said, his tone rough. “But I’m here because I can’t seem to stay away. Whether I want to or not.”

Your heart twisted at that, the feeling of both connection and distance pulling at you like a string being tugged in two directions. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to ask him how he could do that to you and then sit here, speaking in circles as if it were nothing. 

But a part of you, a small part, understood. Understood that in his own way, he was trying to show you something. Trying to make up for what had been lost, even if he didn’t have the words for it.

He leaned back, stretching his arms out behind him, his eyes momentarily closing as if contemplating the words he had just said. His gaze returned to you after a long moment, unreadable, but something was different. The guilt that had once clawed at him was still there, buried beneath layers of pride and anger, but it was no longer the overwhelming force it had been before.

"You don’t want me near, little one." he said quietly, but this time, there was an almost wistful quality to his voice, as though he were trying to make sense of the situation himself. "But I can’t leave. Not after everything."

There it was again—the implication that he was here because of his own twisted sense of responsibility, or perhaps, something else. It was hard to say. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for his clarity, and his motives were as layered and complex as his personality. But, for once, he didn’t seem entirely sure of himself either.

You couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to lash out—demand that he leave, that he stop playing this twisted game, stop pretending to care when he had caused so much damage.

And yet, another part of you, the part that still held on to some semblance of trust, felt the ghost of something softer, something that had once existed between you two.

"Why stay, then, my lord?" you asked, your voice soft, almost pleading for some sort of clarity. "If you can’t undo what’s been done... if you can’t fix it... why bother?"

He stared at you for a long moment, his crimson eyes sharp yet distant, like a predator weighing the cost of its next move. “Because, little one…..” he began, his voice barely above a murmur. “I can’t just walk away from you. No matter how much I want to. Not even when I need to.”

His words were quieter now, as if speaking them aloud made them more real, and in that moment, you could see it. The battle inside of him. Ryomen Sukuna was always in control, always calculating, but right now, there was something else beneath his hardened exterior. Something that made him seem almost... human.

"Why?" you whispered, the question feeling like an accusation and a plea all at once. "Why me?"

Sukuna didn’t immediately respond. His gaze drifted to the window, to where the children were playing outside, their innocent laughter a stark contrast to the weight of the conversation between the two of you. After a long moment, he spoke again, his voice rough, like he was wrestling with the truth itself.

"Because... I don’t know." He chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "I never thought I’d let anyone get this close, little one. But you... You’ve been a challenge, haven’t you?" 

His gaze met yours again, but this time there was something different in it—something more complex than the cruel amusement he so often wore. "I never wanted to admit it, but here we are. Years of suffering and pain and grief and distance, we are still here. For each other.”

His words lingered, and for a brief moment, you found yourself unsure of how to respond. There was an undeniable weight to his admission, a rawness that you rarely saw from the man who once drowned in his own untouchable power.

Ryomen Sukuna’s pride, his arrogance, had always defined him—but now it seemed as though those very traits were at odds with the reality of what had happened between you. The man who could have taken everything and given nothing was now here, trying to make sense of his own tangled emotions.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice growing softer, more introspective. “You think I haven’t hated myself for this? For everything?”

His eyes darkened briefly, a flicker of his own inner torment flashing behind them. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But it did. And now... now I can’t just walk away. Not when there’s nothing left to fix.”

You could see the weight of his words, could feel the sincerity behind them, even if he had never shown it before. It was strange, this new side of him. Strange and unsettling. But it was real, as real as anything else in this complicated, messed-up world that the two of you seemed trapped in.

The silence stretched between you, a fragile moment of understanding that neither of you fully knew how to navigate. You wanted to speak, to offer some words of comfort or clarity, but nothing seemed adequate enough. Instead, you found yourself simply looking at him, the man who had caused so much pain and yet now seemed just as lost as you.

Finally, Sukuna spoke again, his voice quiet but firm.

"Just don’t ask me to leave, little one." he said. "I can’t do that. Not yet."

And so, there was no resolution. No sudden clarity. But there was something between you now, something neither of you could ignore, even if neither of you understood it fully. It was a strange, fragile truce, one born from guilt, from unspoken desires, from the wreckage of what had once been. 

Ryomen Sukuna was staying, whether you liked it or not. That was what he had to do, that’s what his heart was telling him to do. And for reasons neither of you could explain, that was enough—for now.

“Eat with me, my lord.” You whispered to him, pointing at your dish. “I cannot finish it all.”

He smiled at you, almost so fondly. “Very well, little one.”

[totallynotslothhh]

HOLD ME TIGHT PT.2

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,380

warning: angst, smut, fluff, spanking, crying, smoking, fwb

description: The relationship between Joost and y/n seems to be going well, seemingly about to evolve, but an event drastically shifts y/n’s perspective, starting to make everything crumble.

author’s note: Hi everyone, you have no idea how eager I was to publish the second part. I absolutely love writing heartbreaking and painful stuff, you’re going to have to suffer a little, BUT FEAR NOT, I’m already working on the third part, which I’ll try to release by the end of this week, or at the latest, the beginning of the next. Please be patient. While I was writing this fanfic, I had a vivid image of Joost in 2022, so I based everything on that version of him. However, since I kept the descriptions pretty broad, I think you’ll be able to imagine him from any early era in his career.

That said, I’ll leave you to the reading now, and I’ll see you soon (probably with some meltdowns).

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The first rainy days of September had started to appear: grey, cloudy days, with the humid air that still hinted at the summer heat, yet gently pushed you into the thought of the cold that was soon to come.

I inhaled from the cigarette filter, savoring the bitter but damnably familiar taste of smoke, staring out at the courtyard of my apartment and the street that stretched out from my bedroom window.

-You’ve been smoking more since you started seeing Joost.-

It had been two months since my first time with Joost.

Two months since the subject of my thoughts and worries had shifted. Two months since someone had come into my life who I didn’t yet know would become the most important person in it.

We had built a relationship of unstable balance. There was always a little piece of my day dedicated to us. Whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or evening, a quick text, a call, or a meeting, whether there was sex or not.

Sex was the major protagonist of our encounters and desires. It’s true, our friendship had become mostly physical, but there was always a margin of interest in each other. We shared a mutual affection that went beyond just the act.

It showed in the small things, things that seemed small but were actually huge.

For example, he remembered the brand of cigarettes I smoked, what foods I liked and disliked, he knew how to handle me when I was sad, knew what to do when I was nervous, could read me just from a glance.

I had become an open book. Even if I tried to pretend I didn’t care about him, I couldn’t pull it off: do heart-eyes come with every look?

-Your heart’s beating fast.-

Feeling that explosion of emotions terrified me: the thoughts that always drifted to him in my free moments, the desire to see him, that kind of anxious excitement before meeting up, the chills running over my skin the moment our eyes met. That wave of sensations scared me. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to start something new, especially since the wound from my last love was still fresh.

No longer bleeding, but still open and fragile.

So fragile that a single touch could make it bleed again.

Joost was healing a wound he hadn’t caused. Without knowing it, he was soothing me with a beautifully calming rhythm, slowly making me trust him.

-Did you sleep more last night, or am I wrong?-

But it wasn’t time yet.

Would that time ever come? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this relationship would end. Like everything else, even the good things come to an end.

Especially the good things.

The question was: would it end by evolving into something deeper, or would it break under the weight of our anxieties?

-Breathe. Relax. Enjoy the moment.-

I sighed, letting the smoke out through my nose. I rested my chin on my palm, holding the finished cigarette with the other hand.

That day, I felt particularly overwhelmed. I’d been working all morning, hadn’t carved out even a tiny bit of time for a break. Cigarettes were my “break,” if you could call it that: two minutes of filling my lungs with filth, paradoxically relaxing. Paradoxically warm.

I chuckled at the thought, glancing at my desk. It was messy and mirrored my state of being perfectly: scattered papers, small pencil sketches covering their surfaces alongside important notes, my laptop dying and about to shut off.

I took one last drag, then crushed the filter on the cold windowsill and finally closed the window.

Sniffling, I returned to my spot and checked my notifications.

No notifications.

-I want to be with Joost.-

I furrowed my brow and, without thinking twice, opened our chat, filled with quick messages but also silly or meaningful conversations. When we couldn’t see each other, any excuse was good enough to stay in touch.

Just a few minutes to make sure we weren’t letting go of each other. Holding on to that safe place.

“Wanna meet up later?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

Surprisingly, I got a reply immediately, before I even had time to put my phone down.

That was strange, considering Joost usually took forever to answer a message.

A carrier pigeon might’ve been faster at showing signs of life.

Sometimes I almost felt lucky to have him in my life. He was always busy with creative work, but still made the effort to give you attention.

“I was just about to text you and ask the same.”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

That message brought a shy, stupid, useless smile to my face. And as soon as I realized it, I shook my head, biting down on my lower lip.

-Was he thinking about me?-

“At your place?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

“Come over when you’re free.”

Sent today at 5:17 PM.

So, after reading that last message, I turned off my phone and stood up, stretching and mentally cursing the version of myself that had bought chairs as uncomfortable as they were beautiful.

Needless to say, I left work on hold, weighing the desire to see the guy who gave me orgasms worthy of divine classification, against the need to finish the work I had piled up.

A good worker would’ve chosen wisely.

At 9:00 PM, I was in his bed.

My exhaustion gone after yet another round of sex that served as a release from those heavy, endless days. The simple feeling of his lips on my body, his hands in my hair, his gaze on me, and his dick buried deep inside me while he praised me and told me how beautiful I looked naked. Well, it made me feel good.

My head rested peacefully on his chest, legs tangled in the white sheet and with his, while I lazily caressed his calf with the top of my foot. I felt his fingers softly travel across the warm skin of my back, his calm breathing rising and falling beneath the hand I’d placed on his chest, playing with the hair there, mimicking his movements.

The welcoming silence thundered in my ears. His heartbeat set the background to the thousand thoughts flowing gently through my mind. The feeling of truly being wanted cradled me.

It was those moments.

Those moments I lived with premature nostalgia, thinking of when we’d part, of how much I’d miss them when I’d be alone, of how stupid I was for starting something like this.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep, raspy voice, thick from silence and exhaustion, made me shrug, caught slightly off guard.

“Nothing” I answered in a whisper, letting my hand glide across his stomach and down his side, trying to cuddle closer. In response, he gently turned toward me, letting me curl into him even more.

“Liar, you’re too quiet” he said, wrapping me in his warm, pale arms, brushing a hand against my cheek, which was now tinged with a soft blush.

“Just tired” I whispered, almost not wanting to break the silence between us.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes, now narrow slits, likely trying to focus on me. He looked so innocent with that little curious pout, without his glasses, and with messy hair.

“Hungry? Want to order something?” he offered, stroking my cheek with his thumb, keeping his gaze on me, at least as much as he could.

“Maybe later” I nodded, savoring the warmth his palm gave me as it cradled my face. Touch was definitely a language that went beyond words. It was an expression of love that reassured me I wasn’t making a mistake.

Physical closeness made me feel safe, made me feel wanted.

“I really want to kiss you” he murmured a moment later, making me smile as I felt the grip of his other hand tighten, more eager, on my bare waist. I looked at him and noticed the hint of sleep in his expression. It made me laugh, because I already knew where this would end: kissing sloppily, filling the room with wet sounds, soft moans, and giggles.

“How will you do that if you can’t see?” I raised my eyebrows, watching his confused frown fade as I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed his thick glasses. Both his hands slid to my hips, and I felt his lips lazily rest on my shoulder.

“I still don’t get how you manage to see anything” I shifted slightly, putting his glasses on him and holding his face to lift his gaze toward mine. His sleepy expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were more focused now, filled with desire, mirrored in the way he gripped my warm, tingling skin.

This boy made me feel everything.

In seconds, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. We started kissing, our tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I felt his breath growing heavier, his grip dropping to my ass. I kept one hand on his face and the other resting gently on his chest. He bit my lower lip and pushed his hips involuntarily against my thigh, his half-hard length pressing against me. He squeezed one cheek and kept kissing me hungrily.

I moaned into his mouth and instinctively brought my other hand to his cheek too, caressing him with my thumbs and pulling myself closer.

I felt overwhelmed, and it was the most beautiful feeling, because I knew, no matter what, Joost would be there to handle it.

He pulled away for a second to look at me. To observe my flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, glossy lips parted just enough to breathe. He gently pushed me under him, letting his hands explore my waist again.

“I could kiss you without stopping” he murmured warmly against my cheek, making me smile and move my hands to his shoulders. He began kissing his way from my cheek to my lips, then down my body, leaving little bites that drew soft moans from my throat.

“I’m bringing you to my next concert” he whispered against the warm skin of my chest, looking up at me but never stopping his trail of kisses.

“What?” I giggled, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him up for a kiss. I hadn’t quite caught the meaning of that sentence, I was more focused on how wet he’d just made me again.

-Didn’t catch it, or didn’t want to?-

“You said you’d like to come. I got you a backstage pass” he repeated, kissing my lips again before nestling into my neck, not giving me time to fully process it. I paused, eyes widening, pulling away slightly to stop him from kissing and distracting me more.

“Really?” I whispered, laughing and halting my hands in his hair. He looked up and locked eyes with mine.

“Yeah, You told me once you’d like to be there.”

I had told him. Almost a month ago. And he had remembered.

He had remembered that tiny sentence buried in a much larger conversation about his budding music career.

“you remembered it..” I whispered, unable to hold back a smile, which brought one to his face too. I felt his hands grip my hips, and his face disappeared from my view as he buried it once again in my neck.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me” he said, sliding a hand between my legs, pressing his middle finger against my clit, then moving it between my already wet lips. I clenched around nothing, arching my back slightly and grabbing a fistful of his blond hair.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” That phrase made me shiver and moan, writhing under the continuous pressure at my throbbing center.

“Yes… don’t stop- keep.. keep going” I murmured with closed eyes as I felt his fingers slowly push inside me, deepening the sensation alongside the bites he placed on my skin.

“I can’t wait to take you backstage, to fuck you, to cover your mouth while I pull your hair” he murmured. That image only heightened everything, his fingers curling inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lower lip, my breath quickening as chills ran down my spine. The heat from his body, the sheets, and the pleasure itself was so comforting I could’ve melted right then and there.

I felt his hips press against my thigh, his growing hardness brushing against my skin.

“Please, Joost…” I whispered, opening my eyes and tugging gently on his hair to lift his face. He did so, increasing the rhythm of his fingers, eyes locked onto my expression, entirely lost in pleasure.

“Turn around” he instructed softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to my lips. I opened my mouth and welcomed them, tasting myself as I sucked them hungrily. His breathing grew heavier, his arousal harder against my leg, and his smile deepened as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. I licked them thoroughly before releasing them.

“You’re beautiful. Always” he whispered as he slowly sat up, supporting himself on his knees to give me room to turn over. I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my shoulders in and arching my back deliberately, accentuating the curve of my hips.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you naked beneath me… you’re even more” he said, making me blush and bury my face into the pillow. His hands took hold of the soft skin of my backside, giving it light taps and gentle squeezes as he leaned forward, trailing kisses down my spine, focusing on the dimples just above my hips.

After a few moments, I sensed him move away to grab a condom left ready on the nightstand. I raised my hips slightly, feeling exposed. When he returned to the bed, he didn’t take long to land a sharp smack on my right cheek, making me gasp and moan into the pillow, the sound fading into the rhythm of our heavy breaths.

He slid into me, gripping my hips tightly with urgent hands, which soon after struck my skin again, reddening it. He plunged his full length in and began to move at a steady pace. That position was one of his favorites: I could tell by the way he groaned, the way he caressed my back, the way his voice faltered with each thrust. I was starting to understand those parts of him too.

“God.. I- fuck..” he moaned roughly, driving into me with force, pressing his chest to my back, panting against my ear, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. One of his hands smacked me again before grabbing both cheeks, spreading them slightly, as if to remind me he was in control. The pleasure was overwhelming. My face was pressed into the softness of the pillow, one hand clutching the pillowcase, the other buried beneath it. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, layering more heat between our naked skin and the craving for a physical pleasure that somehow calmed the soul.

I tightened around him, moaning loudly as his fingers moved to my clit again, adding an electric edge to the sensation.

“Come for me, baby, come” he whispered through ragged breaths, keeping the same intense rhythm, his circles on my sensitive bud pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand found mine, intertwining our fingers, still gripping the pillowcase.

I felt my legs tense, breath caught in my throat, and the knot of orgasm unraveled, taking me over in seconds. I closed my eyes and let the wave crash over me, breathless, as Joost continued his movement until he followed, spilling into the condom, giving his last thrusts meaningless, still clutching my hand like it was the only anchor he had.

He covered me in kisses and caresses, the urgency of sex now wrapped in the softness of intimacy.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

That sentence echoed in my head for days. It was etched into my heart, engraved in my memory. He was taking me to one of his concerts because he had read between the lines of my words. He was taking me to his show, and all our friends would finally see the kind of bond that held us together.

We had done everything in secret without even meaning to. It wasn’t about hiding, we had just kept things private.

It wasn’t supposed to be more than sex.

Supposed to, because whether I liked it or not, I felt it that day.

Something romantic was growing. I was becoming more aware of the bond forming between us, strengthening with each passing day.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his smile. I felt it every time we were together, heard it in the whispered words, in the how are you? he’d send me throughout the day.

The fear was slowly slipping away. I was starting to let go, to trust him more and more.

-You’re moving forward. Letting yourself be led by the depth of the passion that binds you… isn’t that what love is?-

And finally, the day of the concert arrived. A day that was meant to be the most beautiful of all, the fullest, the most emotional. I would finally see him perform, I’d see him on stage, full of life. I would be there for him.

A day that was meant to mark the beginning of something deeper.

But happiness crumbled all at once. Reality hit me in the face, suddenly. My eyes saw what they shouldn’t have seen, not during that time, not on that day, not in that moment.

Not in those fragile, delicate moments.

It was the morning of that fateful day, a quiet and strangely peaceful Saturday.

There was something in the air, tranquility tainted by the joy of being part of such an important event for Joost. I had decided to go for a walk, planning to stop by the supermarket and grab something quick for lunch with him. After that, we’d leave together. We’d go together. I’d be with him all day.

But everything changed when I found myself walking down the aisles of that supermarket, torn between which instant ramen to get, trying to remember the favorite of the guy with whom I had, more than once, shared that simple meal.

I turned my head slightly.

Maybe it was an involuntary movement.

Maybe deep down I knew I was about to ruin that day for myself.

Or maybe it was just pure coincidence that led me to do it.

But I saw him.

I saw my ex-boyfriend standing right there, next to me, mirroring my action, holding two different packs of ramen. Probably to share with his new girlfriend.

My shoulders tensed, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip. I stood there, staring at his body, leaning casually on his right leg, his face caught in some sort of indecisive thought… And just his presence, so coincidental, so close, froze me.

My knees started to tremble. I could feel my heart pumping faster, sending blood coursing through my body. My mind was completely fogged.

I was so disappointed, so angry, and so sad that I got swept away by the confusion that took over my thoughts.

And it all got worse when our eyes met, when I saw the surprised look on his face. And then, that smile.

That damn smile I used to be so in love with, so lost in…

And for a moment, I was almost afraid of it.

“Hi, y/n.” Hearing his voice again didn’t do me any good, not at all. It caused a painful tightness in the middle of my chest.

My breath caught in my throat.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He stepped closer, and I forced a weak smile.

“Hi” I answered coldly, shifting my gaze back to the ramen that had now taken on the role of distraction puppets, something, anything to keep my mind off his presence.

-Is your heart beating fast for him too?-

“It’s been a while since we, uh… saw each other” he continued, his tone almost regretful, dripping with guilt. In three years, I had never heard him sound like that.

“Yeah” I replied, lifting my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how he was looking at me.

“I never really got the chance to apologize… for how I ended things.”

-Why was he telling me this? Why now?-

“It’s fine. I guess our paths were just meant to part” I replied simply, feeling the tension in my shoulders release just a little.

But… he had made the effort to say sorry.

Maybe…

“How are you? You look good.”

He slipped into my thoughts just like he used to. I smiled at that memory, nodded slightly, and let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“I’m good. And you?” It came out naturally, as if some part of me still wanted to know. And that scared me.

-You should hate him for how he treated you.-

We talked for maybe ten minutes. The most adrenaline-filled, fastest ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes that ruined my day, and the days that followed.

He said he’d like to see me again, to “talk things through, over a cup of tea.”

But would that really solve anything?

Was my racing heart just a reflex?

Or was I still caught up in him?

Did his presence matter as much as Joost’s?

-Did Joost matter as much as him?-

That question, that thought, those words, they haunted me the entire day. They made me distant, stuck in my head, detached from reality, drowning in guilt. Every time Joost reached for my hand, for my gaze, tried to read what was going on inside me. Every time he sought even the smallest touch, I felt myself sink deeper into the dark pit of guilt.

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk to me.

He wanted to ask what was wrong.

But he didn’t have the mental space for it, not on that day, not like that. His face showed worry, but I gave him no room to ask. If he had asked too much, my guilt would’ve broken me, I would’ve cried. And that would’ve made things worse.

That day was his.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything because of my mood.

I was finally backstage with all our friends, Joost’s team, and Joost himself, who was getting ready for the concert. I held a plastic cup with something alcoholic in it. The atmosphere was buzzing: nervous energy, joy, laughter, light teasing.

It would’ve been warm, welcoming… if I weren’t drowning in this internal mess. I lifted my gaze and looked at Joost from afar. He was laughing with a mutual friend, probably at some joke they’d shared. I heard his laughter from across the room and my expression softened.

A wave of pain hit my stomach, only slightly dulled by the sparkling liquid I swallowed.

-Why am I acting like this?-

My eyes dropped to the dark floor. My thoughts were clouded with images of both men.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about my ex, but how could I not?

“You sure you’re okay?” Joost’s voice startled me, a mix of concern and warmth. I met his gaze and smiled, but he didn’t smile back.

This time, he saw through me.

He knew I was lying.

“Yeah, hey, don’t worry about me.” I said, placing a hand on his arm, squeezing his shoulder, trying to stay close.

“I know something’s off. You’re not having fun? You don’t feel comfortable?” He asked again, clearly worried but I detected a flicker of irritation in his tone.

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that morning.

Not then.

That would’ve been cruel.

“Joost, really- don’t worry… I’m fine” I insisted, brushing my lips gently against his cheek and giving his shoulder another caress. He forced a smile. Pretended to believe me.

But the tension between us was unbearable.

When he came back to me after the concert, he was buzzing with energy, his white tank top soaked in sweat, face flushed, hair tousled. He couldn’t wait to hold me.

I saw it in his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him. Everyone congratulated him, but I stood aside… feeling like I didn’t belong in that explosive moment of joy.

And as he came toward me, all I could think was that I can’t handle this. His energy, his light, it’s too much for someone like me.

-I have to talk to my ex. I need to know what he wants to clarify.-

That thought, beating in my head since the morning, was shattered in one instant. Joost cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine.

Time froze.

I tasted his freshness, felt his heart beating against my lips, his breath caught in the branches of his lungs, his hands holding my face so close. I kissed him back. But the weight of the moment broke me.

Everyone had seen us. And instead of feeling enchanted… I felt horrified.

Terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes. I gripped his wrists and when I pulled away, I couldn’t even look at him.

It felt like I had betrayed him.

“Hey…” His soft, breathless voice wrapped around me like a thread. He gently moved, trying to lift my face toward his. The tears slipped down freely.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, overwhelmed by shame.

“Please, talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” His pleading made it painfully clear I was the problem. I was the one hurting this still-forming relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t even going to form at all.

I held back sobs, eyes shut tightly.

I felt so small in front of him.

“This morning, I saw him… and I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

I confessed. I didn’t even have the strength to look at him.

I had ruined everything.

Me and my insecurities had ruined it all.

And I didn’t want to ruin Joost.

That pure soul didn’t deserve it.

[evilbihan]

MK1's Lin Kuei

Can we take a second to talk about how bad the Lin Kuei are at what they're doing in MK1? They're supposed to be this ancient clan of elite warriors with years worth of combat experience and knowledge and skills beyond anyone's comprehension... but they're actually so comedically terrible at their job.

I won't include the teahouse fight in this since it doesn't count because they had to hold back against Kung Lao and Raiden but everything happening from there just contradicts all that the story wants us to believe about the Lin Kuei.

Cage mansion fight

Both Sub-Zero and Scorpion get absolutely destroyed by Johnny (who doesn't even seem to have any special powers in the new era, unlike the old timeline's Johnny). Of course, one might argue that they had to still hold back here since Johnny wasn't an enemy, they were just trying to recruit him and Liu Kang was there too, but it only gets worse from here.

2. The Ying fortress

This is one of the most hilarious scenes in the story mode. "No, you two can't come with us although you effortlessly defeated the three of us before because it takes YEARS to master the art of stealth."

What stealth????

Fast forward to the Lin Kuei trying to get inside the Ying fortress. Surprisingly, they can't make it three steps until they're discovered by Nitara and one of them almost dies because he had to show off instead of climbing the wall efficiently and, most importantly, without raising unnecessary attention.

How did Smoke not consider that a guy floating in mid-air would be spotted from a mile away? You can almost pinpoint the moment his brothers realized it was a mistake to bring him with them.

Not that they're doing much better though. On their way in, the three trigger pretty much every single defense the fortress has to offer. Nitara, Ermac... the guards that show up later on.

In fact, this whole thing couldn't have gone any worse if they had brought a marching band along with them.

Next, we get to see Bi-Han and Kuai Liang sneaking up on Shang Tsung so close behind him I'm pretty sure their footsteps would have given them away. They're completely out in the open, Kuai Liang is not even watching his back. It's surprising they made it this far.

3. Capturing Shang Tsung

As we learn, their plan to capture Shang Tsung is, in fact, nonexistent.

I don't know where their experience and years worth of training suddenly went in that moment, but this scene of them just... jumping out of their hiding spot and running at their enemies full speed with no real strategy behind it was so ridiculous and disappointing to me. It just feels rushed and unprofessional and of course, this not at all thought through maneuver triggers the guards to show up and intervene.

It's such an amateur mistake it makes you wonder why Liu Kang trusted them with this task in the first place.

Somehow, the brothers then get overwhelmed and end up captured themselves. The story really wants us to believe the two of them combined couldn't take on a few guards, but later on Scorpion is able to defeat them alone using the power of plot armor.

While Bi-Han had at least some significant wins against Nitara, Ermac, Quan Chi and Shang Tsung, the story of course forced him to lose in the end, Kuai Liang's losing streak for some reason magically ended the second he left the Lin Kuei and Smoke??? He got to beat up an old lady in a staged fight.

It's sad to see how little the writers care about the Lin Kuei, even with the franchise's most iconic characters both being Lin Kuei in the new era. I will never not be upset about the potential that went to waste here. Smoke didn't even get to be in a single fight, we saw nothing of Bi-Han's strategical genius and cunning and the rest of the Lin Kuei only showed up for the staged teahouse fight. They all deserved so much better.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Weekend Ramblings

Thame·Po Episode 10

Yeah, I'm late but my brain was not working properly on friday, so, now works. Congrats on the sex! I love this friend group so much. This episode was a lot. First of all Baifern needs to go touch grass. I did appreciate that the show went there, all things considering, but she made me mad. And not that I needed more proof, but Po is a better person than me. Also I hate Pemika and this whole thing around idols and dating. It's insane, but obviously eventually the company will come around, cause glass houses and all that. The PepperGam noble idiocy thing was a bit whatever, although still heartbreaking, but I'm hoping this means that our mains won't follow in their footsteps. This show is as close to perfection as I have seen from gmmtv in a while, so let's not ruin it. The best part was definitely seeing the group supporting each other. The hand holding at the press conference had me all emotional. I'm giving up on screaming at Thame. I guess since they were technically already caught, he's not bothered. Not that he acted like he ever was. Thame and Po continue to be them. I just love how even through all this, they keep checking in on each other.

GelBoys Episode 2

Never has a show made me feel so ancient. Also this show is a massive reminder of how much I absolutely hated all that love drama in high school. I had zero patience for it. Obsessively rereading messages, overanalysing every word to find some hidden meaning, wondering, Does he actually like me? Honestly, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. And on top of that, I’m beyond grateful that I didn’t have to deal with any of it in the era of smartphones, social media, selfies, apps, and so on. So much angst. I guess playlists are the new mixtapes. It's certainly easier. I continue to really like the atmosphere, it feels very grounded. And although I like Fou4Mod, I adore Baabin, so I'm not a huge fan of the way Fou4Mod is using him to make Chian jealous. Like since he's his bestie, he could've at least been honest. I'm sure he'd be on board. And I know he's gotta learn this for himself but, Fou4Mod, sweetie, this is a terrible idea. You are going to be crying a lot on that train in the future. But, I mean, who hasn't done that before?

Perfect 10 Liners Episode 17

I got YothaGun and PondSand. What a joy! I really could watch Perth do anything but seeing him being the biggest love sick puppy is a special treat. Faifa seems to have a bit of a savior complex, which we kinda knew but it's pretty obvious now. I love characters that hide their pain behind a smile, and he's so kind on top of that, so of course I love him. I also liked that he noticed Wine's overall mood and checked in with him about boundaries. I'm hoping Wine can break some of his walls and perhaps teach him the word 'NO.' I'm thinking maybe we won't get a side couple this time because we have enough couples to check in with, in between FaifaWine stuff, but we'll see.

The Boy Next World Episode 7

First of all, it was great to see Thorn/Tong again, I keep forgetting this is part of the TharnType Universe. As I said last week, BossNouel can bring it in those scenes, but I still feel like I'm watching RainPhayu. Now Cir, you had to see this coming, no? I mean you only had like a million chances to come clean. I feel bad for Phu, but I gotta say, last week I thought he might have an inkling about this, but maybe not?Now…for that ending and the preview. So not multiple universes, but something else is going on. He's dissociating. I'm intrigued and worried if they will land this part of the story. It seems we'll be getting our beloved amnesia trope and I'm so excited about it. Honestly I was thinking maybe he doesn't really have amnesia and he's faking, but wouldn't that be a bit much, all things considered? I mean, they’re going to end up together, so I’d really love to not completely despise Cir by then. The second half of the episode was strange though, pace wise. It felt a bit disconnected, and rushed. Part of it might be intentional, given Phu's state of mind, but it still felt weird to me. The sides are kinda cute, although I must admit, Wim gets on my nerves a bit. That dude must end each day with a tension headache. Like seriously, he's so tense it makes me stressed. And also, why is he so annoyed by Jin?, cause like he listed a bunch of stuff but honestly I don't see it. Wim needs to forget about Cir for 5 seconds and focus on something else. This animosity feels a bit forced.

Sangmin Dinneaw Episode 8 [Finale]

I honestly don’t even know where to start. I’ve come to expect a certain level of whiplash from this show, but this was on an entirely different level. We went from child abuse and murder plot straight into that cucumber scene. I can’t even begin to imagine the thought process behind it. This was a roller-coaster, and not in a good way. That said, at least we finally got a storyline where a guy gets revenge on his abusive parents, so that wasn’t terrible. But the fact that the hotel dude didn't get run over is unfortunate. Now that it’s over, I genuinely don’t know what to say. The main couple was cute enough, and the sides were decent, but overall, this whole thing was a mess. Honestly, the ending was the only part that felt even remotely normal. And still I'm not sure about the amnesia. But who cares? Most of this makes no sense and I'm not gonna waste any more time trying to figure it out.

[samobservessonic]

StC Post-Mortems: Simpson the Cat

By popular demand one person asking, Simpson is getting his own Post-Mortem. As the stand-out member of Captain Plunder’s crew, I reckon he deserves it. Like, I love Filch, but there really isn’t that much to say about the guy outside of him being Plunder’s second-in-command who’s a ghost, but with Simpson, I feel like there’s enough to talk about the character on his own merits

How it started

We saw this already in Plunder’s post, but Simpson was something of a late addition to the crew - a fellow prisoner who helped break Plunder out of jail and then joined him for the rest of his adventures. We never find out why Simpson was arrested in the first place, but he does mark the beginning of Plunder’s stories moving away from being tied to the Sonic cast to become more of their own thing

From a real world perspective, when Simpson was introduced, he bore such a close resemblance to his inspirations of Felix the Cat and Stimpy (yes, from Ren and Stimpy) that the editor at the time, Richard Burton, even contacted Kitching to make sure that the character hadn’t been ripped off from other sources. ALSO, his name comes from O.J. Simpson and not, like I thought as a kid, from The Simpsons “on account of him being cartoony”

How it went

…I really couldn’t do this post without using that image at least once now, could I?

Simpson became the comic relief that stopped Plunder’s crew from becoming too serious. Their disdain for him was evident throughout and there were very few instances of Simpson appearing where someone wasn’t annoyed by him, but it really worked. Simpson allowed the team to use more visual gags via his leaning on the fourth wall, as well as occasionally being the explanation as to why Plunder’s ventures did or didn’t work out

How it ended

You can choose to decide for yourselves how Plunder reacted to having a coconut dropped on his head, but something tells me that Simpson would be fine. His luck’s better than Plunders is, anyway

Were there any unused future plans from the StC writers?

I wasn’t able to find anything on either the Sonic or StC wikis about future plans for Simpson outside of Captain Plunder, and with Kitching’s Yahoo group now being defunct, there wasn’t anything to look into there, either. Unless anyone knows something I don’t, I just assume there weren’t any specific plans for him

What would I personally have liked to see next for him if StC continued?

I would say that he keeps appearing as part of Plunder’s crew in any future adventures, like that unwritten Ebony story, but that’s the boring answer. For something a little more fun…

…team him up with Big the Cat. Yes, Big the Cat did appear as a cameo towards the end of the series and Kitching has even said that he’d have been interested to develop the character had the series not been cancelled. I just think it’d be funny to team up these two characters with opposite personalities - Simpson being over-the-top about everything, while Big takes everything in his stride. Also, they’re both beings with god-like skills and strength, so it’d be funny to see them have a big anime fight for no reason at all Outside of that, I think Simpson could benefit from interacting with any of the other Sonic characters. Beyond appearing in one Knuckles story, Simpson being from the era where Plunder was his own thing prevented him seeing the other game characters. I don’t have any other examples, but I think you could pull a name out of a hat and whoever you get it’d be possible to make a fun story where they’re stuck dealing with Simpson Lastly, this one isn't mine, but I have to shout-out Okida's fancomic, Sonic the Continuation, in which it turned out that Simpson was actually a Tantaror pretending to be a cartoon cat for his own amusement. That's pretty much the Simpson headcanon for me and will always have a special place in my heart

What if he was in other Sonic media?

Preboot Archie:

Have him kill maim bonk over the head with a mallet ...replace Al and Cal in the pre-boot Archie Sonic. My word, I just hate these two. Even Ian Flynn, who can generally always change my mind on early Archie characters who I feel “Meh” about, couldn’t win me over on Al and Cal. I was just waiting for Scourge to inevitably betray them in that one arc, so I wouldn’t have to look at them any more

The thing is, Al and Cal fill the same niche as Simpson, but probably by virtue of being an anthro cat, Simpson just looks more like he belongs in a Sonic comic. Even if he is basically Felix the Cat. Also, there’s only one of Simpson, so we don’t have to deal with boring stories where Al and Cal are talking about crap for ages and then fighting each other in their robot forms

What I’d give to have the Scourge: Lock Down arc from Sonic Universe, but instead of Al and Cal, Scourge meets Simpson in zone jail instead. Simpson is exactly the sort of character who’d be in zone jail. Hell, he was even in jail during his first appearance. I just think he’d be a funnier character to play against Scourge. Also, when the inevitable betrayal happens, I’d at least feel a bit sorry for him

AoStH:

By contrast to that, I’d like to see Simpson being a fish out of water in the AoStH universe. Or rather, a fish too much in water, in that all the other fish are the same as him. We see Simpson in StC as standing out because he’s so different from the other characters in the stories he appears in, but how would he deal with being put in a universe where everyone runs on cartoon logic? Would he continue to be unflappable and perhaps feel like he’s found his people or else would he feel put out that no one reacts to him the way his “friends” on Plunder’s crew do? This one is admittedly more of a crossover idea, taking the established StC Simpson and putting him in the AoStH world, than it is coming up with an AoStH take on Simpson, but that’s just how I’d like to see it

[aishangotome]

Onio Ryo: Chapter 23

Chapter 22

♡———♡

In the sky visible through the trees, the same moon that shone when I was with them was floating serenely.

Yumeka: ...!...

Running through the forest, stepping on twigs, I stopped and moistened my parched throat with saliva.

(I can't just leave the three of them like this... I have to hurry.)

Jiro: Humans are the ones who steal our place. You... are not Akura-ou-sama.

Saburo: We will revive Akura-ou-sama!

What they're trying to do isn't forgivable.

(That's why...!)

I wanted to tell them, who were just wandering, seeking their place.

Taro: ...Turning into a human must have softened Akura-ou-sama.

(Ryo isn't softened... I'm sure he'll save you as you are now—)

Thinking that, I looked up as if pushed by a gust of wind.

(Huh...?)

Beyond the thickly growing trees, a small building was visible.

(N-no way... that can't be)

It was definitely the cabin where Akura-ou and they had lived...

Yumeka: ...It's the same...

It was as if my soul had flown back to that era, and I was seeing the very cabin that had burned down back then.

This must be what Saburo and the others built.

(They deliberately... built the same cabin.)

(While thinking of Akura-ou.)

Yumeka: ..........

Just as I was about to go further inside, I noticed a strange smell coming from within.

Yumeka: Ugh...

I was afraid to know what the smell was, and my spine went cold.

The air inside the cabin was completely different from back then.

I shouldn't be here. A warning-like throbbing echoed in my ears, and a cold sweat trickled down my back––at that moment.

Yumeka: Ack!

My neck was grabbed from behind and lifted effortlessly into the air.

Saburo: Don't interfere!

It was Saburo who grabbed my neck from behind and lifted me into the air.

Yumeka: Guh... s-stop...

My feet were completely off the ground, and I struggled, but his strength was so powerful that I couldn't move.

Yumeka: L-listen to me...

I tried to make a sound, but my throat was constricted, and it was difficult to breathe.

Saburo: You stole our place... stole Akura-ou-sama... human woman... I'll make you a sacrifice...

Time––and resentment––must have changed them completely.

His growling mutter was somewhat like a wail.

Yumeka: Sa-buro...

Saburo: ? How do you know my name?

Just as I was about to lose consciousness, the next moment.

???: Let go of her.

Saburo: Uwah!

Suddenly, his hand released my neck, and I was thrown to the ground, landing on my knees.

Yumeka: --Cough, cough.

Looking back while coughing, I saw––

Ryo, who was exchanging blows with Saburo with a small sword, where he got it I don’t know.

(How... did he get here?)

(Those people... are...)

He looked rushed, his hair and breath disheveled, and he didn't have the composure of a hero, but...

Saburo: Damn it, Akura-ou-sama, wake up!

Ryo: I've been awake for a long time. You're the ones dreaming!

Ryo shouted at Saburo.

It was the first time I had seen Ryo express his emotions so openly.

Ryo: No matter what you do, you can't bring him back. Even if you kill me...

Saburo: No...

Ryo: Akura-ou is gone!

Ryo, breathing heavily, told Saburo---the next moment.

Ryo: ...!

His body trembled strangely.

(...Eh?)

As the scene gradually cleared, I strained my eyes and saw a figure behind Ryo.

Yumeka: ...Taro?

(N-no way.)

Just as I coughed, Ryo’s body collapsed to the ground.

Taro: Humans are weak after all.

Saburo: ...Taro, brother...

I didn’t understand what had happened until I saw the fresh blood dripping at his feet.

Yumeka: !...Ryo!

I hurriedly stood up and rushed over, but Ryo, stabbed in the side from behind, looked back up at Taro, his eyebrows furrowed.

Ryo: I remember... Akura-ou’s end. He was... he was always regretting...

Ryo: ...regretting not being able to protect you all.

Ryo: That’s why... I...

Saburo: ...!

Taro: ...Let’s go.

Urged by Taro and Jiro, who appeared from behind, Saburo and the others fled again.

I couldn’t follow them now.

Yumeka: Wh-what should I do... There’s so much blood...

I simply lifted Ryo up, my lips trembling with overwhelming anxiety and fear.

Ryo: ...It’s okay, really. It’s not a serious wound.

Ryo said, closing his eyes in my arms.

Yumeka: I’m sorry, I was just a hindrance after all...

Ryo: ...I was the one who broke the promise.

Ryo: I wanted to rush to you, Yumeka, no matter what it took...

His weak words made tears spill from my eyes without me realizing it.

The dripping tears fell on Ryo’s forehead.

Ryo: ...What’s wrong?

Ryo opened his eyelids slowly and smiled faintly.

Ryo: You’re crying for me? I’m glad.

Yumeka: Don’t joke at a time like this. I’m calling an ambulance...

Ryo: It’s okay, don’t call.

Yumeka: !Why!? I can’t do that...

Heilong: Just as I thought. I smelled blood.

Surprised by the familiar voice, I looked up sharply.

There stood Heilong, Tsubaki-kun, and even... Shishio-kun.

Ryo: I asked them for backup. They’re reliable, right?

Ryo said with a faint smile, but I was completely bewildered.

Yumeka: Backup? When did you... And Shishio-kun, why are you here too... Could it be--

Shishio: Yes. I am also a male host from Mugenro.

Answering calmly and crouching down, Shishio-kun began to staunch Ryo's wound.

Shishio: I was told to come if anything happened, so I rushed here by car.

Shishio: I apologize for surprising you.

Tsubaki: ...I didn't think Ryo would rely on us, so we were surprised too.

As Tsubaki-kun sighed, Shishio-kun looked up and spoke to Ryo.

Shishio: We took those men to a safe place.

Ryo: ...Thanks.

Tsubaki: Heilong, carry Ryo.

Heilong: Eh~

Heilong, asked by Tsubaki, picked up Ryo's body roughly.

Heilong: I came because I thought it would be interesting, but all I got to do was carry luggage.

Ryo: Sorry about that.

As I watched them, slowly standing up, Shishio-kun stood next to me.

Shishio: I'll take Yumeka-san home.

Ryo: Take care...

His voice, which had been strong until just now, became hoarse.

Yumeka: Ryo...!

Tsubaki: You still have the incense, right? You come later.

The last thing I heard was Tsubaki-kun's composed voice.

Tsubaki: Ryo is at Mugenro.

-

Leaving behind a trail of blood, Ryo, led by Tsubaki-kun and Heilong, headed towards Mugenro.

In the car that Shishio-kun had prepared, I listened to the story so far.

Shishio: Ryo has never involved us in any trouble before.

Shishio: That's why when we received his call, we rushed over, knowing it was something serious.

Yumeka: ...I see.

Listening to Shishio-kun's story, I glanced at the scenery flowing outside the window.

The changed Saburo and the others. The cabin, as if forcibly recreating the memories of Akura-ou.

It stayed in my head, along with the rustling of the forest.

(Besides...)

Yumeka: I’m sorry, I was just a hindrance after all...

Ryo: ...I was the one who broke the promise.

Just the sight of Ryo bleeding and kneeling made my eyes water again.

...Then, Shishio-kun offered me a handkerchief from the driver's seat.

Shishio: It's okay. Ryo is certainly half human, but... he's quite sturdy.

Yumeka: Thank you, Shishio-kun.

I smiled, happy with his consideration, and Shishio-kun also smiled back, relieved.

Shishio: Ryo will surely be happier if you are smiling, Yumeka-san.

Shishio: He should be receiving treatment from the Tsukumogami medical team at Mugenro by now. They are excellent Tsukumogami.

Yumeka: Yes.

Nodding deeply at Shishio-kun's encouragement, I refocused on my destination.

-

After being dropped off at my house, I believed Shishio-kun's words that there was no need to rush, and only changed clothes and took a quick shower, then slipped into bed without drying my hair.

(I'm glad the incense was still there...)

And so, without hesitation, I rushed to the dream I thought I would never see again—Mugenro.

-

Gashadokuro: Ah! Good evening, Yumeka-san...

Yumeka: Gasha-kun, where's Ryo!? He should have been brought here injured.

Interrupting the talkative Gasha-kun's story for once, I leaned forward and asked.

Gasha-kun also immediately looked surprised.

Gashadokuro: Don't worry! Ryo-san is...

Ryo: I'm here.

Appearing from the back of the hallway with his voice, was Ryo, looking exactly the same as usual.

Yumeka: Ryo!

I called his name as if shouting and ran over.

Ryo caught me as I hugged him impulsively, without thinking...

Ryo: Ouch...

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 24

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[venture-through-the-mist]

Thoughts on The Lotus Eaters

As I’m sure is obvious, this will be discussing the Lotus Eaters quest in detail, so if you haven’t played it yet, I’d suggest skipping this post! I don’t want to spoil it for anyone (because even though it’s a short quest, I still think it benefits from being played with no prior knowledge of what it entails), so the full post will be below the cut.

Alright, I have SO many thoughts, so I’m going to try and keep this somewhat concise…ish. This is mostly just a bunch of rambles, so I apologize for any grammatical errors or if it’s hard to understand. I just kinda…wrote what came to my mind.

First off,

The Music: I briefly mentioned this in another post, but holy shit the music for this update is amazing. I mean, we all knew it would be, Warframe has a tendency to put out absolutely awesome songs, but oh my god. We get two more versions of what is one of my favorite songs in the game. The loading screen version of ‘This is What You Are’ has to be, by far, one of my favorite things I’ve heard from this game. I love the feel to it, like a combination of ‘old’ Warframe with ‘new’, 1999-era Warframe. I’ve had it playing on repeat almost all day because it’s so good.

Now, for the version of ‘This is What You Are’ that we actually get during the quest, the one that Lotus is singing to herself. I, admittedly, didn’t pay too much attention to it when I was actually playing the quest, at least not beyond “omg Lotus is singing, that’s awesome” (I was just too excited about the actual quest lol). However, when I listened to it again, I was fascinated by the subtle differences in how this version sounds compared to the ‘normal’ version of the song, or even to the new version in the loading screen. The singing is a lot more staccato, and the notes don’t flow into each other in the ways they normally would. It’s almost as if Lotus is having to concentrate more on what comes next (at least, that’s my interpretation), which makes sense given that we know that she’s singing in order to drown out the Indifference’s voice. Her singing also sounds a little sad, or maybe just lonely, to me. Her mind is filled with the Indifference trying to influence her, and she’s taken it upon herself to be a barrier (or as she says it, a “distraction”) between It and the Tenno. She’s secluded herself (again), and her tone of voice seems to reflect that.

Also, after the quest, if you go and talk to Daughter/Kaelli in the Necralisk, ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ plays now, instead of whatever song was playing before. I just think that’s neat (and also brings in some interesting ideas for 1999…what did our Drifter do?).

Moving on…

The Story: I had absolutely zero idea where the story was going to go from this update, but I was a bit worried about how they’d go about locking us into playing as the Drifter for 1999, since — although I 1000% agree with why the Drifter is definitely going to be the one going back in time — I’m definitely someone who would rather play as my Operator for my own lore reasons (and I can’t think of a reason that my Operator would let the Drifter do this instead of her). I was actually wondering if they’d actually lock us into the Drifter without giving us a choice, or if they just wouldn’t give us the option to do the romance stuff if we chose Operator (for obvious reasons…bc yk, they’re a child). But, I really enjoy the route they went down, how Lotus knows that the Drifter has to be the one this time, because if the Operator does, that might just be giving the Indifference exactly what it wants. She’s, once again, protecting her kids in the way she knows how, by taking them out of the conflict in any way she can.

But, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, so let’s backtrack a bit and talk about how cool it is that we see the Operator and the Drifter interacting with Lotus at the same time. I may have missed something in the quests leading up to that, or this might just be something attributed to the Man in the Wall’s hijinks, or…something, but I thought that they couldn’t be in the same place at the same time/in the same ‘reality’. So, I was quite surprised (pleasantly, ofc) to see both of them. I really love the difference in the dialogue options when we initially talk to Lotus. The Operator is torn between wondering if Lotus is alright, and also being super worried about what the hell the noise is, in a way that makes me think they definitely suspect that the Indifference is meddling with things again (which makes sense, given that they’re actively in the Sanctum). Honestly, the Operator was probably waiting for something like this to happen. They know, or at least suspect, that Lotus saw the Man in the Wall after the battle with Ballas, it was only a matter of time before that became important. The Drifter, on the other hand, is more concerned with Lotus herself, warning her to be careful, reassuring her, but also wondering what she means by “It’s you”. Maybe the Drifter doesn’t really know the extent of the effects that the Indifference has on the System, maybe the Operator is just trying to protect Lotus in the only way they know how…get the perceived danger away from her first, ask questions later (I’ve noticed from their dialogue throughout the game that the Operator tends to have a bit of a sharper temper than the Drifter does…perhaps bc they’re younger). Either way, it’s nice that they have different responses to seeing Lotus and hearing the noise.

I chose the “Are you okay” and “What do you mean, ‘it’s you’?” dialogue options, and I absolutely loved that my Operator’s line was “This isn’t just a bad memory, it is? This is new”. This acknowledges, at least in my interpretation, that Lotus does have lingering emotions from everything that’s happened in the past (Ballas/The New War, Hunhow, etc). Once again, Warframe surprises me by remembering to make the trauma that a character has gone through actually relevant to the story even after we’ve dealt with the source of the problem. I probably shouldn’t be surprised at this, but most video games I’ve seen don’t tend to do that. Usually characters are…somewhat fine after experiencing something horrific, so it’s refreshing to see a different (more realistic, imo) take on it. This isn’t even the only time we see this in this quest/afterwards. Lotus outright confirms it herself (“I will not let it devour one instant of my pain. Not even Ballas. Not even the Jade Light.”), and in doing so, is also showing us how she’s dealt with the events of the prior storylines. She’s gone through a series of extremely traumatic events, and she still has those painful memories, but she’s not going to succumb to the Indifference, even if It promises to take that away. She’s been hurt, yes, but she is healing, and she’s finally in a place where she can actually do so as herself. That doesn’t mean it’s easy for her to ignore the voice that’s calling to her —the voice that only she can hear— but she’s determined to. I’m curious if the voice-lines after the quest are different if a player had chosen Margulis or Natah instead of Lotus after the New War, though.

I find it very interesting that Lotus calls the Drifter ‘my champion’. I just really enjoy the fact that she definitively sees the Operator and the Drifter as two separate people, as opposed to ‘her child’, and ‘her child but older’, because I feel like that fact could have certainly been a cause of a bit of discomfort and a learning curve for both her and the Drifter after the New War.

Now, onto the 1999 portion of the quest, which, even as short as it was, was quite interesting. It was really weird to be in the Mall again and not hear ‘Party of Your Lifetime’ playing or see other Tenno dancing around the stage (like how it was during TennoCon). It was quite eery, and I love it. Also, we got to see Kalymos again, so that’s a plus.

All in all, this quest answered a lot of my questions about how the game is going to transition to 1999 (and even answered questions that I didn’t know I had). However, I am slightly (read: very) concerned at the same time, mainly because of the line with Lotus saying “If I become something you do not recognize, do not mourn”. I feel like that’s potentially foreshadowing something…They don’t usually put lines like that in without reason. Maybe I’m just reading too far into that…but I suppose we’ll see when 1999 comes out.

Anywho, another thing that I wasn’t expecting but am really glad that we got was the continued acknowledgement of Lotus/Natah/Margulis being a system. This happened not once, but twice (to my knowledge), and I think it’s really great that they didn’t just disregard the whole “I am not one” thing from The New War after we made our choice between the three of them. It’s really nice to see that that wasn’t just a one-off line, especially as we continue to get more and more moments where the game references them.

This is already way longer than it probably should be, but what can I say? I like well-written characters, and this game has so many of them. I’ve definitely forgotten some things that I’d wanted to put in this post, but ah well.

[elizabethshaw]

okay trying to gather my thoughts in a somewhat coherent manner. under the cut for spoilers:

positives:

i watched this with a group of friends in the cinema (my first time seeing dr who in a cinema which was very cool) and it was so fun! it was really nice getting to experience it all with a room full of people who were just as surprised by all the reveals etc. as i was. i think i may have enjoyed the episode more than i would have otherwise because of this

the thirteen cameo!!! totally took me by surprise but it was genuinely so lovely to see jodie whittaker playing the doctor again, and getting to interact with fifteen. favourite part of the episode for sure <3

i think the longer episode length definitely did this one some favours. it didn't feel as rushed as some of the other episodes in this era have, and certainly felt better paced than the s14 finale

lungbarrow reference in televised dr who :) (i have never read lungbarrow)

not happy about ncuti gatwa leaving (more on that later), but i will say that as ways for an incarnation of the doctor to go out go, sacrificing his life to save a single life other people might have overlooked is a nice one i think.

thought ruby was good in this one

negatives:

the regeneration. i don't feel like we've had nearly enough time with fifteen (the eight episode seasons are something i have complained about time and again with my family and i do think they are one of the main issues with this era. there is not nearly enough time to explore/develop anything and shit just ends up feeling rushed), and so i was really sad that he's gone so soon. it doesn't feel that long at all since he first arrived :(

and continuing on from that point... not a fan of it being billie piper next. at all. like i do like rose tyler enough and think she was a good companion for the era of the show she was in, but by god do i get driven mad by the way some people act like she's the be all and end all of everything, and it is beyond frustrating how the show/rtd just will not move on from her. it is 2025!! we are allowed to do something new agh

belinda i am so sorry for what they did to you oh my god. genuinely fucked up way for a companion to exit, especially after wish world spent all that time portraying belinda and fifteen's nuclear family thing as being yknow. wrong??? ugh

also kinda just generally frustrated by how things went with belinda's character. she started off so strongly but as time's gone on it just feels like she's been increasingly sidelined, to the point it ended up like this.

the rani felt criminally underutililsed tbh. weirdly enough i don't particularly care either way about the incredibly speedy defeat of omega, but the rani's exit felt underwhelming idk. hope we see her again some time

where was susan. why have we spent the past two series building up to susan for her not even to get mentioned (in a story that felt tailor-made for her to be relevant in some way!). hm.

overall, mixed feelings on the actual like. plot of that one but at the same time had a great experience watching it so. idk??? anyway ncuti gatwa you were wonderful as the doctor and i wish we'd got to spend more time with you 😔

[craftingcare]

"A Familiar Place In A New World..."

Howdy! Because I need a different name alias for every blog or I will die, you can call me Uni here. It/xe or my neopronouns only please and thanks.

You might recognize me as the weird lurker guy @fratellis-pizzeria , and if so, hiiii <3

This is a blog dedicated to my attempt at reworking the worldbuilding around Spinch (and its solar system neighbors) using my existing oc universe system framework to try and make it into something new, and hopefully better. It's something I wanted to do for a very long time, but now I've officially lost all hangups keeping me from going for it.

The inbox is open to hopefully help in this endeavor, by taking suggestions from the masses or having specific things that suck pointed out to me that I might've missed here and there, or just to ask me questions because I genuinely do love answering questions %]

This is primarily in an effort to channel my fixation into making something actually worthwhile than just feeding into the slop because those people do not deserve any more of mine or your time as far as I'm concerned. And also out of spite for my own various reasons, of course.

Tweaking this part, i will no longer be tagging these posts with anything beyond craftingcare related tags

[Breif "basic info" rundown just in case]

KITTYCORN SUPPORTERS ARE NOT WELCOME HERE. WHATSOEVER.

(More might be added or edited later but this works for neow)

Author's message under the cut if anyone wishes to read, basically just explaining my motives with this for anybody who's curious

I got into Sp*rklecare around roughly the late preboot-early reboot era or earlier, I remember very little about this period of my life though unfortunately, mainly due to trauma (I'm not divulging in my horribly abusive childhood here), so I cant say for certain, but what I do recall regardless is that I absorbed every little bit of the reboot site's lore page when I first found it like a sponge and absolutely loved it despite its flaws. And it then went on to inspire little annecdotes all over my own future worldbuilding projects even after my mind had accidentally blocked out where I even got any of it from.

Years later I end up remembering about Sp*rklecare via a friend of mine who was super suuper into it, my memories from years ago flooded back like it was noahs ark in this bitch the second I found that worldbuilding site page again and reread volume one... and then next thing I know the first doc had dropped and hit me like a soccer mom's toyota speeding in a school zone. And yadda yadda we all know how that went and now we're here, I'm just wanting to do justice to littler Uni and just trying to have fun with something that used to make me happy and planted the seeds whats become one of my favorite special interests in the present day.

[yashiro-ism]

Fav Love and Deepspace OSTs

Not ranked, I just listed them randomly; will update when I find more cool ost

So many memories tied to these OSTs, esp the event ones 🥹

Gravity of Spacetime

Its so beautiful bro, I always smile so hard when I hear it and it just makes me so happy 🥹🥹 I always imagine this playing in the background when mc and Foreseer dance in the library under the soft snow

Entwined Shadows

I always listen to entwined shadows when I feel sad cuz it makes me sadder so my original sadness doesn't feel as sad

This was the first multi banner I experienced and I was pretty sad I didn't get Zayne's snowy serenity, because I was f2p back then and only got Raf. I was also in a pretty rushed headspace because I had to get some documental shit done so this event felt like I went by in a jiffy and I couldn't even grind to try for Zayne. I'm kinda still salty about not getting it but I will wait for rerun cuz that's all I can do about it anyways

Lol but besides not getting the card I REALLY wanted, it just sounds kinda sad by default to me. Like again, piano and violin tgth and I'm sold on it. It sounds sad to me because when I hear it, it feels like "after so many life times, in this one, we could share a kiss" if that's not sad then what is

In the Ocean Depths

This one is the definition of ocean/ deep sea. You can NOT tell me it doesn't sound like you're in Lemuria. I don't even know how to describe it, it just sounds like forlon waters which holds millions of memories. They used to have this on Raf's desk/ with him page but then they changed it to the another goofier one (Fish in Hand perhaps?)

Sometimes I go to Raf's falling for you page just to listen to this ost since I don't have the affinity level to unlock the actual ost

Dawn of Heavy Snowfall

If they play this during Zayne's finale my soul will rest in peace for the next 20 lifetimes. The title is so beautiful and so apt for the OST. It sounds so innocent but sad in the beginning but when the violins swell it sounds like "finally, after all the hardships, it was all worth it, we finally made it through, and triumphed over and endlessly looping tragic fate". That ONE part where the violins swell and the strings come on has me levitating man.

I remember crying so hard when I read Zayne's anecdotes, esp the Medic of the Arctic one where this one specifically is from, I soaked my pillow and t shirt and even my glasses were dripping with tears

Beyond Time

I don't see xav romantically as an LI cuz he's not my type but I still really like him as a chara and his lore. When I read his lightseeker myth this ost was in my head rent free for at least a week if not more. It has this "cosmic serenity" vibe to it, sometimes it feels like a fever dream to me

Mysterious Shadow

Sounds really Sci-Fi and gives those classy, sophisticated heist kinda vibes. Well it IS a Sylus ost after all. I stay extra long on Sylus tender moments/ secret times pages just to listen to it for a bit longer

Misty Invasion

Lmfao whenever I listen to misty ost all I remember is how that banner brought out the most desperate and down bad side of me which I never knew. That was the banner that made me start spending on lads. I bought some event packs but I hadn't invested in aurum then so I started getting distressed dreams about not getting the cards I wanted 🤣 most stressful and horny banner so far

It also makes me really nostalgic because this was the last LaDS event I experienced back in the comfort of my own home, my own couch, my own city, my own country, before I had to move to another country for my Master's. Misty really was an era in itself

I also really like the OSTs that play in Raf's Ebb and Flow bond and the one in Zayne's Fleeting Sweetness Tender Moments

Infold needs to put all their OSTs on yt or Spotify or smth. I wonder why they haven't done it yet cuz it would get them a decent amount of money just from us being obsessed with how beautiful the music is

[curtsycream]

Anything For You, Beautiful

Hermione Granger x F!Reader

warning: not proofread, my take on a James x Lily trope for Golden Era, snapshots of Hermione x F!Reader, slightly James coded (father like daughter)

“There she is! The brilliant beauty after my own heart,” she called out.

Hermione frowned the second she stepping into the Great Hall. She had a feeling it was coming it always did as Y/N Potter called out to her. The bespectacled girl had been doing so since their first year at Hogwarts.

“Quiet Potter,” Hermione uttered when she sat down between Harry and Ron. Y/N could only raise her hands in defense as her smile widened.

“Whatever the Misses wants,” she mused before eating a piece of toast.

As Hermione moved her hand to grab some food Y/N pushed her hand away. She rolled her eyes at the Potter when she noticed the plate in front of her. “How do you even know I want this for breakfast?”

“Silly question from a brilliant girl, you eat the same thing every morning, noon, and night. We’ve been over this many times before, beautiful.”

Hermione wanted to be upset but she couldn’t, Y/N knew her like the back of her hand. Rolling her eyes she went ahead and ate what Y/N prepared on her plate.

“I’ll be taking that,” Y/N said grabbing Hermione’s books with a smile.

“I thought I got rid of you already,” Hermione commented. She held no bitterness in her tone as she watched the spectacled girl carry her things.

“Did you really think a wall of first years would keep me from you? My heart yearns for you, Granger.”

The loud declaration from Y/N caused Hermione to place a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as she looked around noticing a few people staring. Those used to Y/N’s antics simply shrugged it off. “What did I say about doing that?” Hermione hissed out.

Y/N’s words were muffled by Hermione’s as she spoke leading her to remove her hand. With a wink in Hermione’s direction she shrugged, “you tell me lots of things that I don’t listen to. We both know I’ll always do what I want in the end.”

“You’re so insufferable!”

Y/N watched the curly haired girl storm off to her next class without looking back. Keeping her hold on the girl’s books she shook her head, “and you’ll be the death of me..” she muttered to herself.

“Where is she?”

Y/N was frantic as she walked into the Gryffindor common room. Her eyes soon landing on Hermione being consoled by Luna and Ginny. She didn’t waste time making her way over to them. She got down on her knees as she sat in front of Hermione who was curled up on the recliner.

“Hey..hey look at me, you know he’s just a loose mouthed twat,” she whispered softly.

“But it doesn’t hurt any less knowing that he’s-“

“If you say he’s right I’m going to loose my mind.”

“But he is, I’m a-“

“Wonderful, brilliant, and beautiful woman who is beyond Malfoy in every way, shape, and form. That much is simple,” Y/N had a smile on her face as she spoke Hermione’s praise.

Sitting up Hermione began to smile herself before she noticed Y/N’s hands. “What the hell happened?”

“I gave him a piece of my mind though it seems I think with my fists,” she chuckled as Hermione started to fuss over her. But she didn’t mind anything for her.

“POTTER!”

Hermione turns to a chuckling Y/N beside her who couldn’t take her eyes off of the now green haired Malfoy. “I just thought he could use a change, he’s a Slytherin I thought they liked green?”

When Draco set his eyes on Y/N he made his way towards her. He was quick but Y/N was quicker was she stood from the table. Placing her hands on Hermione’s shoulders she pecks her cheek, “eat all of it.” She said before dashing off around the table and out of the Great Hall a furious Draco right on her tail.

“You’d think after the first five years she would learn to stop,” Ron said as he ate.

“Trust me, if it involves Hermione stopping is something she simply can not do,” Harry said speaking up for his sister.

Hermione drowned out their words as a blush spread across her face. Her eyes on her plate of food Y/N handed her moments before Draco entered the Great Hall. Maybe it was the genuine care Y/N had for her or the idea that she was slowly falling in love. Either way she was hooked…

Can you tell I have a crush on Hermione? Also I wanted to replicate the way James was for Lily with Y/N. I think it’s cute

[risingscorchingsuns]

OHHH MY GOD YOU CANT MAKE ME WAIT A FUCKING WEEK FOR THIS. YOU CANT MAKE ME WAIT A WEEK FOR THE MUZAN KAGAYA CONFRONTATION YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME. FUCKING HELL OH MY GODDDD

hiiiii im feeling so normal right now!!!!!!!!!!!! *barely contained frenzy of biting and screaming*

anyway thoughts on this weeks ep!!! <3

- tanjiro. please. please i love you baby but i will never understand why you decided it was a good idea to go “🥺 are you fighting about ohagi? ill make lots!!” tanjiro honey they are TRAINING

-/pos btw. I love him he’s iconic for this

-shoutout to giyuu for immediately finding out about Sanemi’s favorite food and being like “:) if I bring some to him we’ll be best friends :)” giyuu sweetheart i love you. ive been waiting so long to see this scene animated god I love them. im not even much of a sanegiyuu shipper i just think this whole scene is iconic

- the ECHOES of muzan’s FOOTSTEPS right after Sanemi realizes they’ve been infiltrated????? holy fuck it is CHILLING. ohhhhhh mygoooodddd. oh my god im going INSANE

- holy shit, I feel like it’s massively under-discussed how dark Gyomei’s backstory is. Like… the whole scene really pounds it in how brutal his experiences were. His disgust at having to fight, much beyond what a normal human would tolerate. He likely had to keep caving the demon’s head in over and over because it kept regenerating. Holy shit. The color choice of everything being monochrome except for the blood is particularly chilling. I love when media uses that palette and KNY does it so good

- AUGHHHH his smile when he pats tanjiro 🥺🥺🥺 he thinks about Sayo…. GOD I love the Hashira

- I’d love to read more character analysis on Gyomei. I feel like we didn’t get as much context for his character as we deserved- why he continued to fight, despite how disgusted he is by his own strength, why he trained Genya despite his general distrust, especially towards children? Ultimately, I believe it comes down to Gyomei being a genuinely gentle human, and I’d love to read more analysis on how he maintains that. Maybe his own repetitive action helps him. I wrote a big paragraph about questions about his character, but wound up deleting it because I found myself answering them as I wrote. Regardless, if Gyomei is anybody’s blorbo to the extent that Kyojuro is mine I would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on him- I think he’s a massively underrated character and I’d love to understand him deeper!

-OUGHHH THE MUSIC!!!!!!! god I am LOVING the theme they did with the sanegiyuu fight that shit went CRAZYYYY. and the ANIMATION. look im biased because i love the way water breathing looks but godddd its so pretty. also drop ripple thrust mentioned!!!! we haven’t seen that form since Susamaru!!!

-is the next episode gonna be the last in this season?????????? where are they cutting this off?????? god i wish i could reread the manga but i lent the set to a friend so he could read it pain agony MY CROSS REFERENCES

- [MANGA SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT]

-I’m presuming Zenitsu’s letter was about his Master’s suicide, and Kaigaku’s transformation. I think it was really clever of ufotable to put this scene in Gyomei’s episode, and put spotlights on Kaigaku being the kid that first betrayed Gyomei- I think that fact was only actually mentioned in a Taisho Era Secret. That’s gonna blow a lot of minds in the finale arc lol

-I wish we got more development on Zenitsu in this arc. His processing of the letter, his departure from Tanjiro and the others. I think Zenitsu is also a really misunderstood character, and this arc doesn’t exactly do him many favors in that regard. I wish we’d gotten a bit of filler vis-a-vis his development, but I’m hoping we still get that in his fight with Kaigaku.

[xxfaithlynxx]

A List and an Answer

Pairing: Sylus x f!(Named)OC; Rafayel x f!(Named)OC; Xavier x f!(Named)OC; Zayne x f!(Named)OC (WAS a Hunter (chronic physical pain, back injury)

ENJOY the next installment of Part 2!

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DON'T steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4:

  ZAYNE

“What do you mean you saw her?” I knew he was about to answer it, but I felt compelled to ask anyway.

“I was in Charon, a part of the N109 Zone that I’ve been laying groundwork to take control of… not really a spot where I frequent.” We’d found our way to a secluded, more abandoned looking park and we took a seat at one of the picnic tables after brushing off the snow from the seats. “A… client had gotten into contact with Onychinus and asked for a meet up.” I nodded, not really following entirely, but enough. “I didn’t want to go at first, but my boys talked me into it. Anyway,” He leaned back and stretched his arms above his head, when he dropped them again, he tapped a finger on the tabletop, “The client… turned out to be someone even I wasn’t prepared for.”

His eyes closed, “Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck that bastards end game is… but she was there, but something was wrong with her.” Our eyes met again, “It was like the Era we know was supressed… while this other Era was present… and can I just say, if we ever make her truly mad… I don’t want to be there.” I squinted at that last statement. Wait what?

“Okay, you need to help me out here. What?” I leaned against the tabletop, the sleeves of my coat getting coated in a thin dusting of snow.

“I can’t say for sure… there was a moment where she seemed to know who I was, even called me an old nickname she had for me… but for the most part, she was… someone else. Someone stronger, willful and beyond arrogant. Like the client… he called himself Belamy.” He smirked, a chuckle bubbling up from within his chest, “Not many people I know are bigger than me… that man put me to shame.”

I felt my eyes widen; Sylus was a large man. In width and height, for him to admit that another man was bigger than him, that was something. “Do you think she’s being subconsciously subdued somehow? Like how she was being held in that cage?” Sylus smiled, showing one of his sharp canines.

“See, this is why I prefer you to the other two, you and I think alike.” I scoffed at that, although he was right, Xavier and Raf had troubles following our trains of thought. Sylus and I were more alike on that front, I supposed. Although, I’m not a full-fledged murderer! “So, what if she is in that same gilded cage? She was with us when we reached out to her through the bonds, now she’s walking, talking and sucking air with those glowing blue irises and powers I’ve never seen before.”

I blinked, “What do you mean? What powers does she have now?”

“She froze me. I went to take a strike at Belamy and froze midair, the only thing I could move were my eyes. It was agony. All she did was flick a finger and I was done.” Sylus stretched his fingers, clasping them and releasing them, like this had just happened.

“Froze you… did you feel cold, or was it just a telekinetic force holding you in place?”

“Does it matter?” Sylus seemed to take annoyance in the fact that I wasn’t focusing on the bigger problem. I’ll get there… first things first.

“Humor me.”

“Yes, I felt freezing— wait….” I nodded as he put it together.

“She can use the powers she absorbs.”

~~~

We spoke of her powers for a solid half an hour before finally moving on. We were now walking back to the corner block with the café while we talked. Thankfully the streets had massively lessened of the crowds, there were the occasional stragglers. I could feel like I could think. “So, have we devised a plan or formulated an idea who the demon might be? Xavier and Raf sent me lists earlier, around the same time you messaged.”

“They sent me the same lists, I believe. Notice anything about their lists?” Sylus asked as he tossed his long empty cup into a garbage can as we passed. Once back beside me, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and kept pace with me.

“Yes.” I heaved a breath through my nose as I tipped my head, “One name matched both lists.”

“Did you get a chance to look up the name?” He asked me, lowering his voice barely.

“No. Did you?” As we walked, I quickly noticed the temperature was lowering, and quickly. Lifting my left arm, I checked my watch. 8:45 PM. No wonder it is getting cold.

“I skimmed. His titles fit the emotions he’s superseded into her mind through the years, otherwise known as Master of Deception, Marquis of Lies.” Sylus recited from memory, I could tell, he was waving his hand dismissively.  

“My car is back at the hospital; I could follow you to your Zone.” I jerked a thumb behind me as we approached the little café, now empty save for a single employee rushing around emptying the displays and cleaning tables. Busy, busy…

Sylus nodded, but then countered with, “Or we could just take my vehicle.” He points across the street to a large black SUV. I felt one of my brows arch in surprise.

“Didn’t take you for a SUV kind of guy.” I smirked at him as we both crossed the street and then crossed each other so he could head to the driver’s side.

“What, let me guess, you thought flashy expensive car?”

“You got me.” Lambo, Vette, Stang, one of those sure… not… this. I checked the symbol on the back and felt another wave of confusion surge through me. Nissan Armada… hm. Not new…. “I thought you were loaded, this… says differently.” I gestured to the vehicle as a whole after I’d opened the passenger door, he’d already gotten in and was adjusting dials and settings.

“What can I say? I don’t like to bring attention to myself.” I nodded and slid into the passenger seat, closing the door after me. Seems about right. The man wanted to stay under the radar, everyone would expect a crime syndicate’s boss to flaunt his superiority around, so this was apt for the man I’d come to know. Did the Association even know who he was? Era never said, and I haven’t bothered to ask.

“Should we get Xavier and Rafayel to come too?” I asked as I pulled the seatbelt across my chest and plugged it into its receptacle.

“Give them a call, we’ll pick them up along the way.” Sylus responded as he entered in the GPS the directions to Whitesand Bay, “Xavier lives in Era’s building, so we’ll grab Raf last.” With that concluded, I grabbed my phone and dialed Xavier’s number. Since we’re picking him up first.

I listened to the dialing, and then the call sound. Once… twice… three times, and then a click. “Hello?”

I sighed, “Hey, Xavier. Its Zayne. You home right now?”

“Yes, what’s up?” I heard a sound in the background, a shuffling like he’d just sat up out of bed, or off a couch.

“Sylus and I found something, we need to go out to the N109 Zone, we’ll be by the apartment building in ten. Can you be ready?” I glanced over at Sylus and saw that he was also on the phone. He must’ve called Rafayel.

“Yes, absolutely.” I heard him shuffle around for a moment before he huffed into the receiver. “Honk when you guys are outside.” Then the line cut off with a beep. Okay then. Bye to you too.

When I dropped my phone back into my pocket, I looked over at Sylus, who’d put the vehicle into gear and was now reversing out into the road. “Xavier said to honk when we get there.”

“Got it.” Sylus palm steered the vehicle into its lane and pressed the gas as we started heading north. I watched as he thumbed a button on the steering wheel and the display screen halved, separating into a music screen and a maps screen. The speakers started playing I believe what was once a popular song, the words Maps by Maroon 5 clipped by on the screen before fading out to black, allowing the map side to take over the rest of the display.

“You listen to this?” I asked, a little taken aback, again by the enigma that was Sylus.

“I listen to anything.” He said as he eased on to the main drag, turning off the exit that led to Era and Xavier’s apartment building.

~~~

Sylus laid on the horn once he’d pulled up along the curb leading to the gated area off the walk from the apartment building. I took a timid glance at the clock, it’d been about an hour since we left our little picnic table spot, plus the drive. “C’mon, Xavier….” Sylus tapped the steering wheel before he reached down and tap the door lock. I leaned forward and saw the young blonde man sprinting from the main door with a bag over his shoulder, in a heavy light-colored hoody and faded blue jeans. “Get in, kiddo.” Sylus said through his open window, I saw Xavier roll his eyes before heading to the rear driver-side door. When he was in, as soon as he shut the door, Sylus pulled out of the lane back on to main road, more music filling the silent space. I glanced at the screen again as it flashed to life in the darkness of the cab. Man on a Mission by Oh the Larceny cycled across the screen before fading out like before.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and pulled it free, holding it up. It was a message from Xavier. I quirked a brow and opened the message panel.

Xavier: I wasnt expecting a vehicle like this…

Xavier: didnt Era say he was LOADED?

Xavier: Sidenote, his taste in music isnt half bad.

Xavier: Considering….

I smirked, in the last 6 months, Xavier had been the one to hang around Sylus the least. In those six months, none of us had seen what Sylus drove, or listened to his music. All we knew was that he was supposed to be absolutely loaded to the tits, and had a vast musical collection, instruments included. I’d seen his vinyl collection, which was baffling. An entire room dedicated to storing what Sylus had called a lifetime’s worth of music. Aside from Xavier being the least privileged of us to have hung out with Sylus for any extent of time, my guess was because Sylus was the boss of the N109 Zone and a Wanted individual in the Hunter’s Association, Xavier didn’t seem to like Sylus all that much. Maybe it was the ‘kiddo’ thing.

I felt my back press into the cushion of the seat as Sylus stepped on the gas. We were now, headed south, judging by the GPS display. Lights blinked by as we sped over a couple overpasses, then suddenly it was complete darkness as we sped over a lightly lit bridge. I leaned towards the window, and saw that the clouds had cleared slightly, allowing the moonlight to fall over the solid black water below us, shining over the crests of the frozen peaks of the waves.

We arrived at Rafayel’s studio fairly quickly once we’d passed that bridge, and again Sylus laid on the horn once we stopped outside the building’s gate. We saw the brief light of a door opening, and then shutting again, a brief silence before we heard a soft ‘What the fuck’ come from the darkness.

“Other side, fishface.” Sylus said, jerking his thumb back over his shoulder. I wondered idly as we waited for Raf to get in, why between Raf and Sy, did their nicknames get weirder every time they saw each other? Might need to inquire about that later. I felt the rush of cold air over my neck as Raf’s door opened, the sound of him jumping in and then the door shutting as the vehicle wobbled slightly.

“Seriously, dude, I figured you’d just hire someone to drive you. That fucking jet you rode in on out to Maui clearly said you are beyond wealthy.” Rafayel’s voice said, amusement and a mild curious edge slid off the tone. “Hey, don’t look at me that way, you driving just doesn’t follow the rich vibe, neither does this awful music.” I checked the display in the middle of the console and saw a song title I’d never seen before, something called Gone (JSapp Remix) by a band called Red. I reached over and turned the dial to the right, watching on the screen as the volume indicator rose along the edge. I glanced at Sylus as he scoffed and pulled out of the drive and back on to the road.

“You know my music likes, fish fry, I like just about anything with a tune.” I had to admit, the Red song was catchy, and I found myself tapping my index finger along the armrest of my door to the beat. “See? Even the stoic doctor likes it.” Sylus smirked over at me before returning his red gaze to the darkened road ahead of us, the feel of the vehicle picking up speed while my back pressed into the back cushion was now the only indicator of our movement. Outside the window was a glare of light and then a dense fog. He does like to live dangerously, doesn’t he.

~~~

“Wait, so you saw her… and she’s not with you?! What the fuck, lizard tongue!”  I sat on one of the black leather couches Sylus had in one of the main living areas of his mansion. Rafayel, even being a whole 6 foot stood eyeing the taller man down.

Xavier didn’t seem much happier about this turn of events after Sylus had explained what had happened when he’d met up with the odd character who’d claimed to be a potential client in Charon. I was vastly curious as well. The blonde had leaned forward on to his knees, fingers dangling between his legs as he glowered at the silver haired mob boss. “Look, this fucker has her under some sort of… manipulation. I got through to her, at least once….” I couldn’t help but notice he didn’t mention the part where she’d subdued him with my Evol… although, I was sure that was coming. “She… used Zayne’s evol on me.” There it is.

Xavier and Rafayel’s eyes widened to saucers as they both turned to look at me. I held my hands up in surrender, “Was news to me too.”

“Wait… how did she use his Evol?” Xavier asked, clearly having forgotten when she consumed a portion of my power all those months ago.

Rafayel answered that one, “Remember? She, like, ate his power that night when she’d woke up after we’d basically resonated with the bonds, we shared with her.” He looked at Xavier, seeing the confusion clearly on his face. “Dude, remember? She’d let it slip that she’d spent time on the street, and it pissed Mr. Green eyes off enough that he nearly lost control of his evol and blew up her living room with snow and ice?”

Xavier narrowed his eyes, his jaw popping open, “Oh, shit! Right,” the blue-eyed man turned back to Sylus, “How did she use it on you though?”

“She froze me, mid stride.” Sylus stood behind the couch I sat on, a crystal looking whiskey tumbler in hand. “Also, something else was… wrong about her.” I looked up at him, he hadn’t offered much else to me about what happened, so I was immediately interested. “Her hair was long. Nearly down to her cute butt kind of long, and she was thinner, almost a sickly looking thin.” I watched as Sylus’ gaze drifted off into the distance as he recalled her image.

Again, Rafayel spoke up, “In six months her hair couldn’t be that long… unless,” He’d crossed one arm over his middle while the other bent at the elbow while he pinched his chin between thumb and forefinger. “It might not be as far fetched as we think it, remember Sy, she shares a similar Evol to you. That black smoke thing she and you have, you can manipulate your forms, yeah? While we were in Maui, she managed to change her appearance entirely.” I canted my head, really? Xavier seemed to adopt the same posture as we both leaned forward some more, engrossed in the idea of her changing her form.

“How so?” Xavier asked, voicing my own thoughts.

“She… turned herself into a mermaid, I’m totally serious.” Rafayel seemed only slightly reluctant to share this information, but I felt my skepticism arch a brow at him and I saw Xavier snicker behind his hand. “She was… copying me.”

Whoa, hold on. Copying him? “What? We are going to need a little more context, Raf.” I said, turning when I felt a hand on my shoulder, Sylus was offering me a bottle of water, I nodded at him as I took it, twisting the lid as I turned back to the artist.

Sylus spoke up after that, “Our little artist here has a big secret, don’t you fishy.”

Raf narrowed his eyes at the taunt, “Blub, blub. You two must promise you won’t tell a soul!” I felt my back straighten as Raf directed a pointed finger at both Xavier and me. I motioned with my own finger as I made an X over my heart, while Xavier mimicked locking his mouth and tossing away the key. This sounded like something no one would believe even if I did tell them….

Sylus rounded the couch and took a seat next to me, tumbler in hand as he crossed one leg over the knee of the other, running his free hand through his hair. “I… I’m a… I’m a Lemurian.” In the time spent with the generally pouty and spoiled artist, this was the first time I’d heard him sound so nervous about saying anything to us. Lemurian… that rang a bell, sort of.

“A Lemurian?” Xavier asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked over at Rafayel who’d stood up and was now pacing beside the two couches. “Like… you’re a real-life little mermaid?” Sylus snickered into his whiskey tumbler before holding up a hand when Raf shot him a glare.

“In a way, yeah.” He looked at me with his multicolored eyes and his eyebrows turned worrying as I mulled over what he was saying. I could feel the disbelief and being among present company I could also feel my expression matching my thoughts. “You seem skeptical.” His purple hair dipped over his eyes as he tilted his head. I only nodded before leaning back in my seat, my back pressing into the soft cushion while I adopted a similar pose to Sylus, one leg swung over the knee of the other.

“Lemuria was only just recently rediscovered, yes? From… hundreds of years ago, you are… what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?” I voiced my thoughts on the topic only to watch Rafayel’s cheeks darken, “Unless you are in fact immortal, I have a hard time believing your statement.”

“I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” Raf crossed his arms over his broad chest, fingers curled against his forearms, narrowed eyes locked on mine. They were captured for their scales, their tears and their fins… if he really is one, I can understand the intimidation act.

“It does seem like something from a fairytale.” Xavier offered, seemingly taking my side on the topic.

“Now that, that is out of the way—” Sylus started, but I cut him off.

I spoke up this time, my curiosity rivalling my desire to ask more questions regarding Era, “If he’s a… Lemurian. What does that make you? The names you give each other, obviously there’s something about you too, Sylus.” I pointedly looked over at him.

“This ought to be good.” Raf said, releasing the tension from his shoulders as he smirked across the coffee table at the bigger man, who was now glaring at me. “Do tell them.”

“Can we not and say we did?” Sylus asked, his own shade of pink flaring to life across his cheeks and into his ears. That bad?

That’s when Xavier piped up, “So… we know we all have had past lives with Era, does that have anything to do with these topics? Like Raf being… a fish and you being whatever you are?”

Sylus almost beamed, apparently being semi overjoyed for the interruption. “You could say that yes, I’ve had past lives with her, whether she remembers them will have to be up to her. Same goes for all of us, I can only surmise.” Xavier nodded, seemingly placated by this information. Past lives… it’s hard to believe, but… the dreams… those fields of jasmine flowers… it’d make logical sense, unless my mind was just projecting, then what?

“We’ll get into the past lives thing later, for now… Sylus, tell us more about what happened in Charon.” I said, canting my head to look over at the man beside me, who was mid sip of his whiskey. “We talked about the lists Xavier and Raf sent… and how one named seemed to stand out on both their lists and our own.”

“Yes.” He put down his glass, standing briefly to pull a wad of folded paper from his back pocket before sitting down again on the edge of the couch cushion, “Here. I took the liberty of printing out all of our respective lists.” He unfolded the papers and laid them out over the low surface of the table between us. Each list looked almost identical, save for a few names here and there. We all leaned forward, towering over each list as we looked between them, “See anything similar?”

“You might need to clarify, dude. I see a lot of similarities.” Raf said, tapping his chin as his brows pulled together.

I heard Sylus sigh exasperatingly beside me before he pulled a pen out of thin air and circling one name from each list. The same name I’d gotten stuck on when the two men had texted me their lists. Xavier leaned forward and tipped his chin to the side as he read the name upside down.

“Belial.” We all looked at each other before Sylus, again, pulled a laptop from wherever magic void he kept his belongings from. This man may as well be Loki using seidr….

“Who’s Belial?” Rafayel asked as he picked up one of the lists and traced the letters of the one name.

Sylus tapped away on the keyboard a few times before looking up at the screen and reading off something obviously from a wiki page. “Belial. Master of Deception. Lord of Arrogance. Lord of Pride. Described here as having a deceptively smooth and beautiful voice but emits a foul odor of death or decay. Apparently, he can make himself look like an elegant but large man or a looming creature with massive black feathered wings, void like eyes and a striking number of teeth. He is mainly associated with lies, treachery, and he is dedicated to creating immeasurable levels of guilt.” Sylus’ eyes skimmed over the screen as he listed off the littler things about this demon that clung to us all like a thin layer of sweat as the rest of our silence stretched into uncomfortable levels. Belial… a demon has been haunting her, both physically and mentally since childhood, as we thought. Why though? What was in it for the demon?

“So, it has been a demon the entire time, but why? What could Era possible be to him?” Rafayel spoke up, bouncing his eyes between each one of us. We’d all latched on to this idea after Era had pointedly called that mental presence as a stygian companion all those months ago. To finally have confirmation on it being accurate, I wasn’t sure what to think, and it seemed clear that the rest of them were in similar mind sets.

Xavier’s brows were pulled together tightly between his eyes and stared at the circled name on the lists. “What if… What if this demon was promised a child… but only when the child was ready.” I blinked, she’d mentioned how the presence had told her while on that hunt with Xavier that she wasn’t ready at the time, and how while it held her against the tree that it had gotten alarmingly touchy feely with her. Why does that make sense?

Sylus snapped his head up to look at Xavier. As did Rafayel and I.

“When she was trapped in the cage of her mind… do you remember seeing a woman speaking Latin? She promised the demon she was summoning an offering.” Sylus’ voice had taken on a low and shaken tone, his fingers curling into fists atop the keyboard of the laptop.

It all started clicking, “Era’s mother promised this demon her own child?” I felt the dry patch at the back of my throat catch my words, forcing them to break as they left my mouth.

“Era was a sacrifice.”

~~~

[dyradoodles]

Hiiiiii! 💕 I was just wondering….. what are your preferences for Zack & Seph? Do you ship ‘em, is it up to circumstance, does the age matter to you/do you consider their age and their gap? Why not even throw in how you fell in love with Zack & Seph to begin with? Do you have sources?? MLA format for Zack’s fandom page???

*plops down on floor*

Details plz! ❤️

Ah yes hello person that I definitely do not know, who definitely didn't see me say I could write an essay about this very subject on discord LMFAO

I'll put the actual essay under a cut for people who don't want to scroll through my Many Feelings about these two lol As a TLDR to your questions:

Yes I ship them, but also Yes it's up to circumstance! Yes I consider their canon ages/the age gap (which most visibly manifests in me only drawing them platonically if I'm drawing Zack as a Second/with the puppy hair, or writing a fic taking place during CC)! I was actually into Aeriseph first and stumbled into ZackSeph fics, and realized it was a similar dynamic, but with someone who spent time with Seph canonically before he went bananas! All of this was before CC came out and I've been loving these characters for 20+ years!

To borrow a phrase (from crylin iirc), honestly, I like just seeing them standing next to each other, romantic or no LMAO <3

NOW, FOR THE ESSAY.

So to expand on what I said earlier, I think it's obvious from my blog and ZS server that I ship these two LMAO That said, the way I ship them is based heavily on the era of fandom before CC was a thing. I got into FF7 around 2002 (possibly earlier, I just don't have the dates on drawings that old), five years before CC came out. At the time, we knew next to nothing about Zack beyond the very short clips of him in OG. So, fandom did what fandom does best, and tried to fill in the blanks!

Some of the efforts to figure out who Zack was went all the way down to his name, because it's Zakkusu in Japanese. So you'll see him as Zax, too - There were heated debates on whether to use Zack or Zax. And no last name! Fandom had to come up with surnames themselves. We also didn't have much of a reference beyond his polygon model, which seemed to have darker skin and, (as many fics described it) violet eyes. It was also assumed that, since he was a First who worked closely with Sephiroth, he was probably around Sephiroth's age. You likely already see where I'm going with this, laying all that out lol The Zack I draw and write is very much based on that time period, and if I'm honest, that's the character I really ship with Seph. I still joke in my fics sometimes that Zack's last name might be Donovan or Darklighter, etc., which are old fandom surnames!

Now, obviously CC came out and threw all this on its head, because we finally got a whole GAME about this (important!) minor character. I have many beefs with CC's writing and Square's insistence that so many of their characters need to be child prodigies (they can't ALL be prodigies, Square!!!). With Zack going from an assumed early 20s to suddenly being 16, and all the craziness of CC's plot, the way I approached the ship changed as well.

This is where I would firmly say my stance is: I don't think Seph had any interest in Zack romantically, in CC. Because that's a kid lmao If I'm engaging with the Compilation as a whole, I definitely lean way more into the mentor/mentee relationship for the two of them. As a personal rule, I only draw them platonically if Zack's got the puppy hair, because that was the most obvious visual cue I could think of that could draw that line between Zack's teen years vs. adult. If Seph managed to not go insane, then yeah, later in life I could still see them getting together! But clearly that's already AU territory lmfao

Ultimately, what I like best about Zack & Seph is how they treat each other (while Seph is still sane lol). That goes for platonically and romantically. Zack is so genuine and kind, and treats Seph the way he always wanted to be treated - like he's human. He can joke around with Seph in a way most people simply can't. Meanwhile, Seph treats Zack's feelings with respect, even during the times he's laughing at Zack for being ridiculous. He's also honest with Zack. He answers truthfully when Zack asks what's wrong, and it's clear that it's because he knows Zack is not a threat; Zack will take Seph's feelings seriously, too. I can enjoy the drama of the trauma and heartbreak that comes with Sephiroth's descent into villainy, but my favorite stuff definitely involves a lot of Nibelheim fix-it fics lol

Despite all the changes CC made to Zack and his relationship to Sephiroth (RIP Second in Command Zax Donovan/Darklighter/Knightblade, my beloved), their actual dynamic with regard to how they treat each other stayed, miraculously, intact. That's the real reason they're still my favorite characters, and how my enjoyment of FF7 has remained as strong as it is after literal decades. Square can retcon as many things as they want in the Compilation, but they'll never stop me from making art and fic of the characters I grew up with. Unless I get a C&D for some reason LMFAO Until then, I'll keep enjoying my AUs (and if anything, I have even more reason to enjoy them now that AUs themselves are canon - you bet your ass I'll be in the AUs where ONLY OG happened and I can ignore everything else LOL)

Thank you for the questions!! It was fun to get all my thoughts written down in one huge chunk, as opposed to my typical disjointed ramblings to my friends. Hopefully it was an interesting read!

Sources:

Fanlore. “Zack Fair.” The Organization for Transformative Works, 2 Jan. 2023, fanlore.org/wiki/Zack_Fair.

Doodles, Dyra. "Way Too Much Fandom Lurking." Dyra's Childhood to Adulthood, Copious Amounts of Fanfiction, 3 Apr. 2024

[no-gram]

ACT1 Bizarre Poems

Hey, you. You know, don't you? Outside of this dream system of ours. A character that doesn't exist. A curse. A little tea party. This is a kind of boundary that is about to break.

Thinking back, it might have been the same at that time.

In the middle of the night My heart pauses for a moment That's when I have scary dreams.

There is a wall between me and those girls. I'm not talking about distance. There is a literal wall. I've been here so long, it feels like I've been here since birth, but I still clearly remember being brought here by her. Today I dream again that tomorrow I will be killed.

One day, there was a crack in this wall. Another day, the crack got bigger. I don't know what is beyond this crack, because there is only a mercury lamp here. But I can see the glittering neon lights on the other side. Maybe it's heaven on the other side.

When you want to kill one person When you want to kill someone You're the only one? and you come to me

the sound of something cracking in my head. 　I wish I could go on and on and on and on and on and on …… and …… the sound of me laughing

'ohohohohohohohohoho' 'yihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihihi' “hahahahahahahahahahaha” “huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh.” Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle. Rumble-rattle-rattle-rattle. Rumble, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle. Serves you right

From the corner of the blue sky “from the corner of the blue sky “who's staring at me and wondering what I'm doing. You did it with flair. I would have died otherwise. What are you going to do now? I'm gonna kill all the xxx except you. I'm not gonna stop you. I'm not a admin. What are you going to do with this? Let's get her in there. I won't help you. She's not that bad. She's the one who locked me in there, and more importantly, she won't have it herself. She deserves at least a parting gift. I see.

Why didn't you say so earlier? Because it wants you to be whole. I can't go against that. Then I've done the worst thing I could ever do to them. Not really. I'm just optimizing it over and over again. What about you, what do you do? I'll just optimize. If it brings you peace. Well, I guess this is goodbye. Maybe we'll see each other again soon. We are not the cause of this ＿＿＿＿ hatred, and there is no one here to hate. “Happy birthday to you, even though it's not what I expected at all.”

Oh. What a horrible torment. This beautiful, delightful island is now a skunky hell. Oh, God. Oh, God. Why don't you just kill us both at once? …………

…… everything is a fetus's dream. …… that little girl's scream… …… this dark ceiling… …the sunlight on that window………No…no………Everything that happens today is like that……… ……I'm still in my mother's womb. I'm suffering from algae scratchings from this horrible “fetal dream”. ……

……How about it……Do you remember……your name…… ……huh Still don't get it……? ……. AHAHAHAHAHAHA. That's because you still stuck in the habit of thinking with my brain's marrow.

The real prelude went something like this, and the next time I woke up, I knew what I had to do. The number of precious things lost will crack, and the idol will be broken. I don't want that anymore. Even if no one understands me, I won't make a mistake next time.

So, so please… don't make a mistake. We have done nothing wrong. No one has made a mistake yet. The hatred that needs to be directed is in your world.

The one-winged angel, the one who doesn't want to be saved, the one who was burned by her fallen love, the one who tormented me, they were not wrong. There must be a way.

A revisionist and monstrous work, based on a quote from a monster who speaks the name of a certain dream and an afterimage from a bygone era.

jp file

[lee-sanghyeok]

bonedo? lol

Thank you Allison!! something really bad will now occur!! (talking about bonedo at length)

fan or not:

Well, I stayed up last night to liveblog an event they barely attended and gave zero fucks about, so I'd say I'm a fan.

how long i’ve been a fan:

Since the first promos of debut started, so pre-debut, which is embarrassing

first song i heard by them:

"One & Only"

first mv i saw:

"Only & Only" MV

first bias:

For a good chunk of time I had no bias, but then Riwoo dyed his hair cherry red, he showed off more of his personality, and it was game over for me.

current bias and why:

Still Riwoo. He's not only a great dancer, but he has proven to be a great singer as well. He has such a distinct voice and tone. His cover of Taeyang's 'Darling' was also, like... a cultural shift. Something seriously went wrong in my brain when he performed that.

Beyond the performance, I've always appreciated how he makes the distinction between 'Sanghyeok' and 'Riwoo' and that he seems very aware of his role and function as an idol. And he also just seems like a really kind person. So yeah.

bias wrecker(s):

All of OT6. There are certain performances where one member shines more than the other, which obviously then grabs the eye. I think I'm most often taken aback by Woonhak, but that's because he seems like the coolest teenager to ever exist.

favourite song:

If we were to look at my Spotify stats, it would be "Fadeaway" (their OST for a basketball webtoon😩), but from their actual albums, I'd say it's currently "Amnesia"

favourite mv:

"But Sometimes", I really liked the combination of on-location filming and exaggerated sets, and how the MV broke reality in various ways. The kitschy grunge look was also spot on for what they were going for. Jaehyun's rap part felt the most inventive to me in terms of the videography complimenting the storytelling.

favourite era:

As of right now, "WHY", because we got some iconic stages at award shows with "But Sometimes" as the main feature. I think we all remember them going, "BOY to the NEXT to the DOOR! Remember!" and just. how iconic that was. Leehan b-boying. Dozens of dancers going crazy with them. Taesan sitting on a throne. Riwoo's hats getting crazier and crazier. So many cool moments during awards season.

favourite choreography:

"Serenade" for sure. K-pop underestimates the power of a good tableau and "Serenade" gives us plenty of those. The choreo just really works well with the story they're telling.

who i think is the best-looking:

Riwoo. I'd prefer not to go in depth.

who i think is the cutest:

Woonhak, of course. He's absolutely adorable.

best singer:

I'm undecided still. We haven't heard the full range and scope of their voices, so I really don't know yet. Right now, I think Sungho is pretty much the best singer, though I'm still waiting for a song using Leehan's lower register.

best dancer:

Riwoo, without a shadow of a doubt. He goes crazy.

best rapper:

In terms of tone and voice, I prefer Taesan, but Jaehyun has the better verses and flow in my opinion.

an unpopular opinion about the group/members (if i have any):

Their styling is always hit or miss, but I'm just a fashion snob. And I'm of the opinion that a slow, gradual growth will always be better than skyrocketing fame. I see a lot of people on Twitter begging for that shot of ultra fame for them, but I don't think that benefits any group in the long run. So, let bonedo grow slowly.

send me a kpop group and i'll answer 🗣️‼️