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solrabi · 2 months ago

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Lucid Submission - chapter 3

(feudal lord!sukuna x reader)

Synopsis:

The fearsome demon king, Sukuna Ryomen, is reborn as an immortal human man as punishment for ruining the balance of good and evil in the divine realm.

To lift his curse and return to his original form, Sukuna must complete the condition bestowed upon him by the deities.

However, it requires him to have a child with the street thief who stole his coin pouch.

fanfic masterlist

You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep that night. You could feel each tired vein in your eyelids latching on to every bit of rest they could get every time you blinked. You looked down and cursed yourself for being so fearfully compliant with your new husband. His heavy arms encased around you like he was sure you would run away.

He chuffed like a stallion every time he snored into your neck, terrifying you to your core as you tried to make as much space between yourselves as possible. Of course, your efforts were in vain as he made sure that you would not be able to move an inch while lying next to him. Much too paranoid about his ‘pearl disappearing.’

The rest of the day after the wedding was dull. Uraume had left with Sukuna for some urgent merchant business (apparently, he controlled many ports around the area), while Yuuji and Megumi went to train little children at a local school. Nobara wasn’t much of a conversationalist, only choosing to observe you–possibly to see how you could plan to escape.

Your life as a thief wasn’t as exciting as being a rich wife, but at least you had the repugnant thrill of constant aversion. All the riches that came with being Sukuna Ryomen’s wife made you cautious, like your new comfortable lifestyle would be snatched away as soon as you got used to it.

But it wasn’t like you planned to stay that long anyway. Any kind of freedom was going to be better than staying as an egotistical rich man’s wife–a life so suffocating and mundane that even the poor wouldn’t dare dream of living it.

The claustrophobia was now in its final course of setting into the core of your chest. You scratched and slapped the arms that held you, hoping for some kind of relief. Mental or physical. Sukuna grunted and simply turned, taking you with him. Your body now splayed on top of his, arms holding you still against his chest as your face mushed against his collarbone. His scent enveloped you even more, now becoming the air you breathed. If you didn’t crave worldly freedom so much, you would’ve held your breath and surrendered to a supposed afterlife.

“Lord Sukuna, I wish to ask you something,” you mumbled into his neck. The man didn’t even let out a grumble of acknowledgment. “I also cannot breathe.”

Your husband yawned loudly as he mumbled incoherent words. The deep rumble in his chest managed to jolt you like you were a feeble doe. Legs quivering and heart racing. He wasn’t much different from an animal, either. A monstrous bear, tiger, or any uncomfortably large and loud beast would suit him best.

He rolled you back down to the mat you two were sleeping on. However, before you could get up and finally breathe air that didn’t smell like herbs and possibly blood, the man rolled on top of you, pressing his heavy frame on your body. You were afraid that he would be able to feel your racing heart with the way his chest pressed flat against yours. At least his eyes were closed, so he couldn’t see your sheer terror.

“You must take me for a fool if you think that I am falling for your little thief tricks. Lying and scheming are your forte, are they not?”

“Lord Sukuna, please, let your wife at least live for a few days before killing her. It will give you more satisfaction,” you quipped, prideful even during your panicky state. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

“Tongue still sharp as ever, even in the dead of the night. Had I been in my former glory, you would not have been so quick to reply like that.”

“My sharp tongue comes with my body that you have forcefully married.” His tired red eyes rolled at your response. “What is it that you wished to ask me, wife?” You try not to shiver at his reference to you.

“I wish to… relief myself.”

He silently blinked at you before groaning and pulling out a small pebble from underneath his side of the tatami mattress. He threw it across the room, hitting the paper sheet of the sliding door. Curious, you frowned at the sound of slight rustling outside your room.

The door slid open to a grimacing Nobara. “At least warn me before I see something like this.” You could see her blench as she rubbed her eyes.

You gasped as you pushed your husband off, who was now more compliant with you. You yanked the covers off you and threw them at your husband, who was lying with his arms across his face. “You are lucky I am tired, wife.”

Your chest ached slightly when you saw the tatami mattress right outside your bedroom door. Your years of hardship may have turned you a little selfish, but you still had a heart. It felt like seeing a bleary-eyed little sister waiting for you after your long journey.

“Were you cold?” you asked as you followed her out to the water closet. “I have not felt even the chill of spring nights under the care of Master Sukuna,” she responds curtly.

You stop in your tracks, and so does she. The snow blankets everything—all your thoughts, worries, and concerns. “I do not actually want to go to the water closet. I just wished myself a moment. If it is possible, can we sit outside for a few minutes?”

It felt strange asking someone younger for permission, but you let it slide. It’s not like living as a thief made you a stickler for the rules. “Few minutes.” She walks you back to the estate’s courtyard, and you both sit side by side, covered in warm robes, watching the snowfall. The large cherry tree in the middle of the courtyard was now almost entirely white.

You didn’t expect any kind of camaraderie from Nobara. Your cases were wildly different–you were a ratty and uncivilized thief picked off the street to be Sukuna Ryomen’s wife, while Nobara was a uniformed…soldier. To be quite honest, you weren’t sure what to refer to her as. Her skills as a fighter were too sharp for her to be called a simple maid.

There was something more to her; you were sure of it. Her tone was too harsh to be a nobleman or aristocrat’s daughter–perhaps a merchant’s daughter. Her taste in clothes was great, and her sword’s sheath was of impeccable craftsmanship. Even an austere like you could tell.

You wondered if someone had taught her all these things. She sure looked like she was well-loved as a child. So were you, but there was always a chronic emptiness in your heart. No parents to dote on you after work, only a sick and tired grandmother who tried to give you everything she could before taking her last breath.

You even thought you could have a chance at having a family when you met your first love, but you soon gave up that hope after nearly being sold off as a wife to an old rich geezer. It had taken you ages to run away from him, to run away from a forceful marriage, only to land back in the same predicament but with a different person.

“I do not understand him,” you speak out in the silence, echoes of your voice getting swallowed up by the snow. Not even your murmurs could leave the estate. “Nobody does. That is just how he is.” Nobara doesn’t look at you as she replies. “No, he could just take the marble from me–if I even have it. Why does he need to marry me for it?”

“He believes you have it, but you are just unaware. He plans on coaxing it out of you sooner or later. And as long as the townsfolk know you are his wife, you cannot leave Seion.”

So you were trapped. If not under Sukuna Ryomen’s thumb, then under the people’s watchful eyes.

Unlike divine beings and spirits, human beings usually follow a daily routine. Sukuna Ryomen was surprised to learn that they meticulously followed everything–even down to how many bundles of firewood they would collect for the day. So, to make his life more comfortable, the former demon king also devised a routine.

His day usually starts with a quick exercise regime to keep himself strong. Should the day come that the Deities have finally returned to their senses and want him back, he can easily fight them in his human form. However, the four demon companions who followed him to the mortal realm out of their loyalty to him would beg to differ. Uraume, Nobara, Yuuji, and Megumi were well aware that even the most swole of humans would be like a small piece of twig for the weakest of deities. Sukuna Ryomen just enjoyed imagining the ones who punished him in pain, including that no-good Divine Judge, Higuruma Hiromi.

He would then eat a hearty meal and set off for business meetings. After his first hundred years on Earth, Sukuna learned that the only way to earn respect and power was to be rich. So he did exactly that: he spent decades earning money and bought out most of the shipment ports around his town. The fact that people forgot who he was every ten years immensely helped him. Divine punishment magic and all.

And at last, he’d end his day by meditating beside his old statue. Getting to the abandoned shrine was a bothersome journey, but the peace he felt there was unlike any other. It was the closest he felt to his former life.

His new wife, however, was ruining everything. He couldn’t exercise with his normal concentration because he needed to always have his eyes on her. He did trust Nobara, but he needed self-assurance. He could easily take her with him for errands for the day, but he didn’t want the old bastards he traded with to land their leery gazes at her. She was still very jumpy, and something about another man, even a few feet in her presence, made him want to burn his hair. Other than his trusted bodyguards and servant, of course.

“She just won’t sit still, and even refuses to eat. I’ve tried everything. You deal with her,” Nobara huffs as she smacks fresh new clothes on Sukuna’s unclothed chest, which was redundant because they had soaked in some of his sweat. He didn’t bother dressing up after his workout and charged to his quarters, noticing his wife had taken solace in the furthest corner from the door.

“I am not going to eat you,” Sukuna sighed as he walked over to her, making her only pull her legs closer to her chest as she scrambled to throw what was closest to her–a lacquer box pillow. Sukuna, of course, easily dodged her attempt to attack him. He veiled his amusement at her discontentment.

“Who’s to say you won’t? After all, you said you were a demon,” she tried her best to sound assertive, but her shivering body gave way to her veracity. Brave woman. She quickly dragged herself across the floor of the room, hoping to make it past Sukuna to get out, but he grabbed onto her ankles and pulled her to him. No grunt or sound of effort escaped his lips. She could only groan as he grabbed both her wrists and sat her up.

“I am here to give you clothes, woman. Calm down!” he reasoned as he sat on his haunches, giant hands still holding her wrists. His wife wriggled, trying to throw off his balance, but his exercise regime had made him sturdier than a raging bull. It wasn’t a shock to him that he was much bigger than her, but the sight of his arms being much larger and stronger than hers stirred something dire in him. Snow falling like dust before the avalanche.

“I don’t need clothes. I am already wearing them. I’ll change when these get dirty. You rich folk sure do love draining every single resource you have–warm water for baths–”

“Which you clearly enjoyed. I could hear you groaning and moaning like old wood yesterday.” Maybe it had been a while since he had a woman in close quarters, but he barely held himself together when he heard her across the estate.

“That was because your little servant scrubbed me so hard that I bruised everywhere!” she yelled as she tried to wriggle some more, but his grip was taut. He pushed her down on the ground, her back hitting the wood with a thump.

“Your stubbornness will simply not do. I always considered myself a patient man, but now I am unsure. I will put you to work and exhaust you so much that you won’t have the strength to even think about escaping.” And with that, he dropped her clothes on the ground and lightly shoved her to the side. Only to remind her of his strength.

And not because the sight of her being dragged around made him feel light-headed and lecherous.

After calling for Nobara to dress his wife up for the day, he called on Uraume to allot his new bride her wifely duties for the day. “She’s been on the street for most of her life so I doubt she knows how to cook. I also do not want her near fire, blades, arrows, or anything that can be a weapon. Have her organize my accounts by name. Nothing too extensive, but enough to make her want to lie down as soon as she’s done.” Uraume quickly nods before packing his things and handing them to him.

He never enjoyed working anyway. It was a good thing he had her to help out now.

“How long will you be meditating for, master?” Uraume asked as he walked Sukuna to the estate’s main entrance. Sukuna left with a swift response, “I expect to be back before sundown.”

The scenery around his statue was always beautiful. Stalky bamboo trees made everything look like a maze in this part of the valley. A stream nearby always had small foxes drinking from it, and the sun shone perfectly for their red fur to glitter.

Three hundred years ago, this place was bustling with people, buying talismans and offering fruits at the foot of the statue. Now, it is just a husk of what it used to be–weathering and moldy wood turning to dust as soon as one touches it. His statue had all smoothened out, his extra pair of eyes were invisible and his horrifyingly glorious mouth on his abdomen was gone too. There was not much difference between his human form and the statue.

Time stood still when Sukuna Ryomen was at his abandoned temple. He touched the smooth, worn gravel of his face and sighed. After a little more time, this statue would return to being taken care of. Offerings and people would return. So would his former glory. But where would his humanity go? Would he take it with him? Or would his sudden return to his former form make him forgo everything he had learned as a human being?

Most importantly, how would his return affect his wife?

“I see you finally found her,” A familiar voice echoes in the forest. Sukuna already knows who he is before turning around. The Tengu spirit was here.

“Why do you suddenly show yourself when I found my path of return, Geto Suguru?” Sukuna still didn’t turn. The spirit laughed, velvety rich voice raising hairs on the back of Sukuna Ryomen’s neck. He hated how humans were so expressive; it was no wonder they never had the upper hand with Deities and spirits.

Cool air blows all around Sukuna as the sound of wings flapping gets closer to him. If he turned around, he’d be face to face with someone he could’ve easily snapped in half if he were a demon again. “Because you haven’t.” Sukuna shivered as the tengu spirit whispered in his ear.

“What are you talking about? I saw her eyes; she has the marble!”

A dark claw digs into Sukuna's shoulder as he is ripped from his spot, and is turned around to face Suguru. He looked the same as he did hundreds of years ago–long black hair falling around his shoulders, dark pools of obsidian that never had a hint of good or evil behind them, and his signature smirk. Sukuna Ryomen hated tengus–they played around too much. Ambivalent creatures. They never lied, but they weren’t the friendliest company either. Only came around when they were bored.

“Are you still angry that I told you about the souls passing by your domain?”

“You said they were rejuvenating!” Sukuna exclaimed but caught himself when Suguru dug his nails into his shoulder. “Careful with your tone. Remember, you are a mere human now, and I could easily end your pathetic little life right this moment.”

“Do it. I’ll only come back to life within a few mere minutes. I am cursed, remember?”

“Oh, I know, which is why I’ll keep killing you, making each death more painful than the last. It’ll keep you stalled long enough for your little bride to run off or die with time. Human lives are just so frail, you see.” Suguru stretched a wide, ugly smile, baring his pointed teeth at Sukuna. A loud message.

Sukuna was sure the spirit could hear his pathetic human heart beating rapidly along with the sound of his blood rushing to his face. The veins in his neck bulged out as he tried to restrain his anger. The mere thought of someone taking his marble away from him angered him.

“Tell me what you are here for and leave me immediately.” The sooner Suguru left, the sooner Sukuna could go and protect his wife.

“You are a foolish demon.”

“If you’ve come all the way to the mortal realm to tell me that, then I believe you are the foolish one,” Sukuna’s attitude angered Suguru as he shoved him, his taloned foot slammed on Sukuna’s chest as he cemented him to the ground. Sukuna groaned as he tried to grasp onto the spirit’s foot, but his hands went through them like he was trying to catch onto the air.

Right, humans couldn’t touch spirits, but they could do whatever they wanted to them. No wonder folktales and legends were such a big part of human culture.

“You have become even more bold. I was only here to say that you asked the wrong question at the trial.”

“What are you waiting for then? Tell me,” Sukuna could barely wheeze out the words with the pressure on his chest. Taking pity at the pathetic man’s state, the tengu spirit lifts his leg off and clutches Sukuna’s collar, sitting him up against his will—a man at the mercy of myth.

“Your pearl–she doesn’t have it. Don’t bother torturing it out of her.” Sukuna wasn’t surprised that the Suguru assumed he would’ve done that. But something about his newfound humanity irked him enough not to perform needless acts of violence.

“What are you talking about?”

“The pearl is from the Divine Realm. A human cannot fathom its existence. It only exists as dust in her blood as in yours,”

The former demon’s pathetic human heart beat rapidly like thunder trapped in a cage. He let out an aching sigh as cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. “You want me to kill her to get the pearl?”

“No, all you need to do is mix your blood with hers, and you will have the complete marble.”

“I cannot make her go through bloodletting–she’s too weak.”

Suguru laughs loudly and the ground beneath Sukuna’s body trembles. Fresh snow is shaken off the bamboos.

“There are less…practical ways of mixing blood. One of them will surely give you your complete marble.” Still confused, Sukuna could only squint at Suguru’s all-black eyes.

“A child, you daft demon. You must have a child with her to return to your original form.”

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taglist: @sukubusss @lady-of-blossoms @gradmacoco @cheriiepies @brunnetteiwik @poopooindamouf @miakxn @emochosoluvr @sunasgf1

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tales-of-wocdes · 13 days ago

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I just read one of these sad stories where a child invites their friends to a birthday party and is super excited and uses their own money for goody bags etc and then no one showed up.

Naturally I had to think about this IF (as one does because it lives rent free in my head). So I doubt that the caretakers would let it something like this happen but how would they react if a child just isnt liked by the other no matter what they do? Its not like they can force the children to like each other or spend time together but also having a child being constantly reject is not really a good option either and would cause a lot of damage too.

Like how would Havard and Lexia react if MC genuinly tries to befriend the other children at the orphanage but they just dont like MC and dont want to play with them?

See this previous post for similar theme.

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Havard was conflicted. He could not force children to like each other, but still... It did not feel right, but what was he supposed to do. What could he do? Other than just be there for MC.

He went over to sit by MC, and placed a hand over one tiny shoulder.

"Don't worry. I am sure you will find your people." He said gently. "For now, what would you like to play?" He asked, smiling.

MC looked up.

"Or perhaps you would like to make a plan how to best make friend?" Havard asked... It might not work out, but they could still try. And if it did not work, they could consider other options.

Like... puppies.

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Lexia considered if she could pay kids to play with MC... but that was likely a poor idea. Not probably the best way to build friendships, and she doubted the kids could keep a secret anyway...

So she put on her best smile. "Come on, MC. Let's go play!" She said, beaming while offering MC a hand. "Let's go visit the city, see if we can find a puppy or something to play with." She said, a plan forming in her mind.

Fine. She could't force kids to like kids. She could accept that. But a puppy, or a kitten... Animals make for good friends, right? Might even help with the other kids too.

She wondered if there were any magical beasts in the city....

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I imagine this then leads to this snippet with Lexia.

#tales of wocdes #the silver protector #interactive fiction #wip #twine game #twine wip #fantasy #interactive novel #twine story #snippet

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arcaneacolyte · 1 year ago

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May I Present: The Ghouls as Quirks My or My Close friends' Animals Have Exhibited:

**Alpha**: Favorite game is "oh look how sneaky I am, stealing the thing you're doing/playing with so I can play with it" but gets SO mad when it's done to him.

**Omega**: Can't help but make the "stinky" big cat face when he smells something he doesn't like. He can't hide it if he tried.

**Mist**: If she touches a texture she wasn't expecting, she basically jumps out of her skin and onto the nearest elevated surface.

**Zephyr**: Despite having good night vision, has *terrible* lowlight vision, so if they see something at dusk that's unfamiliar? Instant hackles up and growling. Turns out it's just a garbage bag.

**Ifrit**: Upon first meeting someone, is all guard dog and grumpy and "Don't touch me", but once you scritch around his horns and ears, he loves you forever and will trail after you wanting more pets, tail wagging.

**Aether**: Very friendly, but if someone he knows puts on a hat or changes their silhouette in any way? Stranger Danger, who the fuck are you?!

**Dewdrop**: Must be in an hot bed, in an hot house, in an hot climate. Will steal any coals he finds to either eat or rub his face against.

**Mountain**: If he hasn't worn shoes in a while (which is usually any time outside of touring) and he has to put some on, he waggles and high steps weird for a while because he can't feel the ground.

**Rain**: Thunder and lightening or fireworks? No problem, unbothered and can sleep like the dead. Balloons in any form? Pure Evil and must be destroyed.

**Swiss**: Literally an escape artist, cannot be contained if you tried. They put a camera in a containment room to try to see how he escapes and they still can't even figure it out.

**Phantom/Aeon**: No eye self preservation. Doesn't close his eyes when water gets poured on him, will not shut them when you threaten to poke them. It's so bad that he's had multiple eye tests to see if he has poor vision, but his vision is perfect.

**Cirrus**: Got one of her nails cut down too close to the quick ONE time and now refuses to get her nails trimmed and will run or fuss if its determined she needs a trim. Has to be asleep or put under sedatives to get them done.

**Cumulus**: Is completely fine with getting a bath or shower, but hates going out in the rain. Also, to her, water is water no matter how gross it is and she WILL try to drink it if she's thirsty enough.

**Sunshine**: Will get excited and get all up in other peoples' faces, then suddenly panic and get upset that their face is too close to hers. She might snap at them because of it.

**Aurora**: Has very sensitive ears and gets very upset at loud noises, but has a hard time self regulating and the only thing that will help is the Ghoul version of a happy hoodie. Unfortunately she doesn't think she can move her neck while she's wearing it, so she turns her head like 1989 Batman.

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fxtalitygod · 1 year ago

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VIII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

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

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pet names (Little Flower used 5-6x) implied harsh parenting {on Sukuna's end), mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies (both human and animal), child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), NOT PROOFREAD YET (sorry ;-;)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: For starters, I want to clarify that I am choosing to purposely not mention the names of the twins. Although this makes it difficult on my end, I wanted you, the reader, to decide on the names of your choosing while reading.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I have written. Sorry it took so long but I hope it proves well and worth the wait. (╥﹏╥)

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

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their body contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were left to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollars of distress with its rapid thumping.

“Mama, look!” Two voices sounded.

Your breath hitched as the familiar calls rang through your head. The pounding in your chest quickened and strengthened when the footsteps got closer. Hearing their giggles and whispers caused your form to tense– not having the strength to say or do anything. How would you explain your current position? How would you tell them tha-

“Mama, are you alright?”

You snapped out of your daydream to see you were in front of the stream, taking care of your personal tasks, this chore being the cleansing of garments. The query of when you arrived there was unknown, but you would assume it had been for way longer than you should have resided in that area. The dreams you would endure during the solace of night, despite those nights being anything but comforting, had begun bleeding into the day and becoming more prevalent and gruesome. It was becoming quite the distraction.

"Mama?"

Before you could allow your thoughts to consume you, you focused your attention on your son and daughter, who were awaiting your reply with innocent eyes. Yeah, their virtue never ceased to amaze you. They were too good for this world– their empathy brought light to your soul that you believed had burnt out long ago– pride and joy.

You looked at your twins with an awaiting gaze as you watched their expressions turn into excitement at the realization they had caught your attention. You blinked once before being met with a piece of parchment littered with ink. It did not take long to realize that the twins had made you something in their short time away. Blinking up at the two, you gave them a fond grin before looking back down at the material. Upon viewing the parchment, you saw an image of what you assumed to be an image of a bird, and next to the picture was a small note.

" To show gratitude to our dearest mother," you read aloud before holding the small gift to your chest, "Thank you, my loves, it is lovely."

The joy on their faces from the small compliment warmed your heart, referring to your previous statement of them being too good for this world. There were moments when you could not believe that the twins were a product of you and Sukuna– that was a reoccurring thought you had often. They were, without doubt, your most significant and last blessing as things around the temple had not been going as smoothly as they once had been the first few years you resided in it, and it was clearly starting to take a toll on everybody, including you.

"Mama, guess what we learned today?" Your son exclaimed excitedly, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

"Was it penmanship because the both of you are getting better. Have you been practicing like I have told you to?" You joked, poking at their bellies, causing them to giggle.

"No, Mama, Father taught us about Jujutsu!" your daughter shouted enthusiastically.

"Hey, I wanted to tell her," the boy pouted.

"Sorry," your little girl apologized as she turned to look at her brother with an apologetic look.

The sibling tried to look upset, not wanting to give in quite yet, but when he turned around to look at his sister's guilty expression, he launched to hug her. If you had said it twice, you were to state it a third time– the world did not deserve this pair– you could not stress that enough.

"Did he now?" you breathed, your anxiety slowly creeping to the back of your neck like it did so often.

You were aware of the agreement you made with Sukuna all those years ago, and as of things so far, you both were holding up to your ends of the deal. The twins continued to be educated under your supervision and occasionally your attendant. Your little girl and boy were now at the ripe age of six, at which they would begin manifesting their cursed energy, so they were now taking lessons under their father's supervision– that notion made you apprehensive of your deal.

As you previously mentioned, things were not going as smoothly as they once were. Your village has become slightly non-compliant recently. The traditional wedding ceremonies had stopped a little over a year ago as families started refusing to hand over their kin to Sukuna. Despite the disrespect, Sukuna had no care as he had plenty of women to satisfy him; however, to say that he was taking the rebellion lightly would be a complete lie. Over the last few years, more guards were posted for precautionary reasons. Nothing major had happened yet, only the occasional distant and muffled voices chanting in protest.

With such circumstances, emotions were running high, and the crowd only seemed to get bigger as the days passed. You could admit that some days were worse than others, but it did not change the fact that these events could cause a catastrophic resolution at the hands of your husband. Viewing the situation, there was no question that Sukuna would be more occupied than usual; however, it was not amid meetings or trivial tasks but with his children instead.

Sukuna could hardly be viewed as a legitimate father but rather a mentor– a cruel one based on the round, tear-stained cheeks that would walk into the garden after they had spent their designated time with their dad. The only children who seemed the slightest bit content with their learnings were your son and daughter. Your twins have not been training for long, but they had outlasted most other kids regarding their spirits breaking. The first day your little boy and girl had left to meet with Sukuna, you could not help but feel nervous; however, when they came back, they were all giggles and smiles as they told you of their time with the man they call father. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but despite that astonishment, you were simply glad they left a good impression and walked out unscathed, their spirits still intact.

"So, have your studies with your father come to fruition yet?" You asked, not thinking of your wording as the question effortlessly slipped from your tongue.

"Come to fruition?" your son repeated, looking at his sister to see if she understood the meaning of your words.

Despite your children being clever, they were still young and naive, and that naivety could not help but make you laugh gently as you watched them whisper to each other as they tried to decipher the saying. They paused in their little hushed conversation at your breathy giggle, flustered as they looked at you, hoping you would grant them the knowledge they wanted.

"Mama, stop laughing. What does it mean?" the two whined in sync as they looked at you with awaiting eyes.

"Alright," you managed to say between your little fits of giggles, "It means to succeed in the progression of a goal. In this case, did you reach the intended goal of your lessons today?"

Your twins thought over your words for a minute before a look of realization washed over their faces. The two looked at one another to make sure the other understood, finding they were both on the same page before turning to your now-awaiting gaze. Smiles were once again plastered to their expressions of proudness.

"Not exactly," your daughter stated.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" you questioned with a raised brow as you looked for an answer.

"Well...we do not have cursed energy yet, but Father said it was okay because we will..." Your son trailed off before looking at his sister for assistance, trying to remember the exact words Sukuna had used.

"Manifest!" your daughter shouted in revelation after a moment of thought.

"Oh yes, manifest! He said it was okay because 'we will manifest our cursed energy soon enough,'" your son finished, ignoring the distant whispers and tiny gasps that had suddenly emerged from the surrounding women and children.

"And you both will, I am sure of that– my intuition is never wrong," a deep voice resonated behind the twins.

You froze as you looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you, a proud grin on his face as he let the words settle. Your smile had long disappeared, your lips forming into a tight line as you met his gaze. His presence was not what had upset you as you had grown familiar with his company and unexpected visits, but rather the fact that you knew he was right.

"Father!" the twins shouted, bowing before going in to hug his legs, looking up at him with their innocent doe-like eyes that shone the color of your own hues, little flecks of what seemed to be crimson could also be seen if the light hit them just right.

Your heart stopped for a second as you watched your four-armed companion freeze on the spot at the sudden attention. Although you knew Sukuna could not lay a hand upon his children due to the contents of the pact you had made with him, it did not eliminate the uneasiness you had, worried of the thought he would grow to distaste them. The curse-user was not a man of tenderness nor liked to be presented with such fondness, especially from his offspring. There was no room for weaklings in his realm, in hid brigade of suitable heirs.

You sit there, waiting for his reaction, chewing on your lip to the point it draws a small amount of blood. The man stood stiff, looking down at the two smaller beings that clung to his legs in a warm greeting before moving to bend down, causing your heart to spike in rhythm. The questions flooded your brain once more like they often did when it involved your significant other's actions. Sukuna took a set of his arms, placing one on each twin's back before meeting their eye level.

"Did I ever indulge either of you with the story of how I found out about your mother's conceiving of the both of you?" Sukuna asked, an arched brow with a devious smile as he switched eye contact from one twin to the other.

"No," your son replied honestly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

With that short answer, Sukuna looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes before redirecting his focus on his kids once more.

"I knew that your mother would one day bear the fruit of her fertility, but there was one particular evening where I could sense an odd presence. I immediately called upon your mother, and when I was met with her physique, I could tell she was with child. It would have been unnoticeable, but my perception is unlike the average man. Looking at your mother, I could see her stomach was softer and slightly rounder, her ankles somewhat swollen, and her breasts enlarged."

You held back the bile rising in your throat as your husband explained his side of the story you knew all too well, remembering the exact events that led up to that day. His vulgar description of the event sickened you to the core.

"Your mother was unaware of her condition, but I was. The moment I felt her stomach, I could feel the presence of not one but two essences in her womb. I remember the look on her face when I told her– pure shock."

Sukuna's words offended you because pure shock was an understatement. You were undeniably mortified that day, but you would never admit that to your children. For their happiness's sake, you were willing to push the bitter memories of your pregnancy aside. They did not need to know your previous disdain for them– you had not even met them yet. What they did not know could not hurt them.

"How could you sense both of our essences?" Your daughter questioned, tilting her head as Sukuna focused his attention on her.

"Always the curious one, aren't you?" Sukuna noted, a teasing grin forming on his face.

"Mama says it is always best to stay curious because you will never learn anything new if you are too stubborn or scared to keep asking questions."

"Did she now?" Sukuna's grin grew wider as he drew his attention back to you, "And what do you believe that is a lesson of?"

"Fearlessness?" your daughter answered hesitantly.

"Close, but not quite," Sukuna started, "She is teaching you confidence."

"Is that not the same thing, Father?" your daughter questioned again.

"Not exactly, my child," The curse-user paused, looking at you for a fleeting moment before continuing, "being fearless is alright in certain circumstances– something as frivolous as a mouse is something to lack fear of, but there are certain things you should fear. Fear, my child, is what keeps you alive; however, it can be crippling at times. It is the confidence to overcome those fears that lets you survive."

"Why have you come here, Sukuna?" you suddenly asked, becoming tired and uncomfortable with his lingering presence. You knew that the man had not come for idle conversation and to share invasive stories nor explain your teachings.

Had your twins been any older, they would have caught onto your passive aggression as you addressed their father, staring at him blankly as he drew his attention to you. You were aware of the line you were crossing, aware of the hostility you were presenting in the presence of your children, despite the obliviousness of it, but with high tension in the temple and his sudden visit, you felt you had every right to feel uneased. Sukuna's gaze turned from teasing mischief into a grave look.

"Well, Y/n, I wish not to sully our bonding with grave matters," the man spoke, returning your passive-aggressive tone, "we'll speak of it later."

"So why did you come, father?" Your boy asked, looking up at the tall man.

"Must I have a reason to visit my kin?" Sukuna teased.

"Well, we do not see you much outside of lessons," your daughter jumped in with her own comment.

"Observant as well, huh?" Sukuna huffed, pausing for a moment before speaking up once more, "I was wondering if you both would accompany me on a hunt?"

That question caused their little orbs to light up, their little heads turning to you, silently begging for your approval. Looking at their pleading eyes, you could not say no, giving a nod of approval. If they were cheerful before, they were exhilarated now. These kids were to be the death of you if a simple pair of puppy dog eyes could make you cave like this, and you were okay with that.

"Can Mama come too?

Your blood ran cold at the mention of your name. There was no particular reason to be troubled, but at this point, it was a habit for these tense feelings to rise whenever your name was mentioned. So, as you look at your supposed significant other, you could feel yourself about to explain how you had other activities to attend to.

"I do not see why not."

Now, that was unexpected.

The words you were going to speak paused in your throat, swallowing them down when your little boy and girl rushed up to you after hearing Sukuna's approval, hugging you as they tugged on your hands to stand. What was he playing at? Despite the inquiry of his intentions, you had to push it aside as you saw the thrilled look on your children's faces–they most likely wanted to show off what they had learned while spending time with their father. They always returned with smiles of pride after spending time with their dad. You would give up your life to see them smile at you like that for as long as you lived, so you followed them as they walked beside Sukuna despite your own apprehension.

Time slowly passed as you trekked quietly through the nearby woods, watching Sukuna's movement as he led the three of you through the brush, pausing when something caught his eye. It took only a moment for a bow to appear in his hand, but when you had expected him to use it, he motioned over to your son, giving the child the weapon. Every motherly instinct told you to confiscate the bow, but quickly reminded yourself of your pact both in regards that Sukuna was bound to protect your children from harm and that you had accepted he could use any training methods he deemed necessary– this being one of them.

Sukuna was crouched the lowest he could get, arms hovering over your boy's form, guiding his son while speaking in a low voice as the two focused on the prey ahead. Looking into the small clearing, you could see a few grazing rabbits, clueless and defenseless to the threat before them, nibbling on the dewy grass. The bow's snap and the sight of an impaled rabbit caused you to return from your light daze, turning over to see your son smiling in excitement.

"Did you see that, Mama? I did it!" the boy beamed, maintaining a hushed voice.

You gave your son a warm smile, nodding in reassurance before watching your son switch places with your daughter. The rabbits that previously remained in the clearing had run off, but one straggler emerged from bushes, unaware of what had occurred, clueless about its impaled companion. In a mere few moments, the creature suffered the same fate as the previous one, bringing joy to your little girl. She turned to you with the same smile as her brother's– it frightened you.

You had no doubt that you loved your children for who they were. You loved their innocence, passion, and joyful nature, but a realization had dawned upon you in these moments– one that made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Mama, you try!" your daughter called out, grabbing your hand as she led you toward a better spot to shoot from, that spot closer to Sukuna.

Their reason for upbringing would be to take their father's place, to be his heir, and Sukuna was not giving that role to a charitable and naive son or daughter. Things seemed pleasant for now, and your children might keep their nature through adulthood, but one thing was for sure. Whether they stayed that way or not, they would feel justified in their actions– believe what they were doing was good because that is what their father was teaching them, and you were enabling it.

"Darling, I'm not sure that it would be wise for me-"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," Sukuna interrupted, standing from his crouched position and grabbing your waist.

You felt the man's hands slither up your body, messing with the material of your clothing before touching your flesh. Your skin burned unpleasantly as his hands settled, a faux attempt to adjust your form when you were capable; however, with your twins present, you would not dare cause a stir. Looking at the clearing, there was nothing seemingly there as all the critters that previously inhabited it ran off.

"There's nothing for me to target, so maybe we should end this," you suggested, trying to excuse yourself from this activity, keeping a low tone.

"If nothing is there, why do you whisper, Little Flower?" Sukuna responded in a hushed voice, feeling his smirk form as his face rested against your cheek.

Before you could respond, the sound of fluttering was heard. Without thought, you lifted the bow's angle, shooting the arrow into the air– a thud sounded shortly after as whatever you had shot hit the ground. Looking down, you could see a bird skewered with an arrow, blood pooling from its limp body and staining the grass surrounding it.

"Mama, you did it!" the twins exclaimed, thrilled you had participated.

Their sounds of excitement were drowned out by the ringing of your ears as your gaze lingered on the deceased animal. What had you done? Yes, you had viewed death without so much as a flinch, but you were not the one with blood on your hands. You were unaware you could perform such an action– you had never held a weapon before, only a mere kitchen knife.

It disturbed you.

How did you kill the helpless creature so instinctively? So effortlessly? The worst part is...

It felt good.

The ringing eventually subsided as the bow settled to your side, turning your head toward the two-faced man you called 'husband' and handed it to him. Thankfully, Sukuna took the item with no smug remark or wicked grin, giving you one of his infamous blank looks before moving his gaze toward the kids, motioning for them in the direction of the temple, settling one of his hands at the small of your back as you all started the walk back.

Making the hike back, you settled on your earlier realization regarding your children. You would love them until the end of time, and you had no doubt about that; whether they were inherently good or bad– you would love them. But now, as you continue to think, all you can think about is the future. Where would you and your twins be standing in the years to come? What kind of life would you three indulge in if you were all to live? How many bodies would have to pile under your feet before you were guaranteed genuine safety for you and them?

For the years under the same roof as Sukuna, you had been focusing on your mother's words, the promise you had made to her.

"I promise I will survive– longer than anyone."

Your life had been summed up by that promise. So far, you have kept faithful to it because you have been surviving. From your wedding day to your pregnancy, to the many inspections you attended, all up until now, as you approached the temple, you have been surviving. You played all the right cards to get you here and made all the right sacrifices to keep your children alive– what more could you ask for? You were alive and breathing along with your children, and that is all that truly mattered, right?

No.

You may have been playing this game of survival and have been successful thus far, but there was one thing you had failed to do...

Live, you had failed to truly live.

You have played your part in your husband's sick game. You married him, gave him your purity, gave him children, and now you were done. You were more than aware of the pact you had made with your husband, but almost every contract had a loophole whether it could be seen or not.

"We are relocating."

Your heart rate accelerated as Sukuna bent down to whisper those words into your ear, the words taking a moment to register. Was it out of fear? Anger? Possibly both? No. It was excitement. You had given your word that you would never leave the temple unless it was under Sukuna's supervision and say so. Unless he accompanied you outside those gates, you would remain here; however, you had never given your word to stay by his side.

You had given your word to stay at the temple.

The curse-user had just given your confirmation of freedom without being aware he was doing so.

"May I ask why?" you dug, trying to keep your composure to not seem suspicious, as if he could tell what you were thinking if you had shown the slightest emotion.

"I have simply grown bored of this place, plus I have got what I needed from these people, and they all stand right here before me," Sukuna explained, the last part of his statement being clear that he was referring to you and the twins.

"Where would that leave my village?"

Now, that was a genuine question. You were not as concerned for your village but rather your family instead. The four-armed beast of a man was not known for leaving a town so quietly– you had heard plenty of notorious stories from survivors to prove that.

"What of it?"

"Will it remain in one piece, or will it be returned to the dirt?"

"That entirely depends on them, Little Flower."

The answer was vague– it was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but you could understand the meaning behind his words. For the sake of your family, you hoped that the village elders would not perform anything stupid. You hoped they could shove their egos aside and let Sukuna leave the town with what minimal disturbance he was willing to make. Everything you have worked so hard to achieve would be ruined without their cooperation.

Approaching the temple, you could not help but feel the delight swell in your chest. After years of this torment, this unjustified punishment, you are finally going to be free. You have survived, and now you will live. The journey has been difficult, but now you will achieve the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Your children will have the chance to live a standard and carefree life, unlike the competitive and tiring one they would achieve with their father.

It was finally over.

Arriving at the temple did not feel as bitter this time, watching your children running to your attendant as she greeted you all, giving a respectful bow before taking off with the children, most likely heading off to eat. It was quiet as you stood in the garden; everyone else had gone to fill their appetite– it was just you and Sukuna.

"What has you smiling so brightly, Little Flower."

You had not noticed it, but you had plastered a broad, foolish grin onto your face. Usually, your partner catching this would have brought you anxiety as you thought of the right words, but you did not feel that way– quite the opposite. You were proud that he had noticed, allowing your smile to grow wider.

"I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and I cannot wait to leave this place."

"I am glad I could bring such relieving news and bring a smile to your face," Sukuna responded, smiling down at you before taking your chin between his fingers and bending down, "Once you put the children to sleep, come seek me out as we have much more to discuss."

You could only smile stupidly, nodding and allowing Sukuna to kiss you before heading to your children. You did not care what the two-faced monster had to share with you, but you would indulge him because this would be the last time you would ever have to.

You were free.

"Oh, hello, Y/n-sama! We were just finishing our meals. Should I fix you something as well?" your attendant offered, keeping a light-hearted tone.

The young woman had grown more confident with you over the years. The two of you had grown quite close after the birth of your children– she was the only person you full-heartedly trusted with your kids. Maybe you would take her with you in your escape; she was far too good to serve ungrateful and bitter women.

"No, thank you, I am not that hungry; however, I have grown rather tired, meaning it is time for bed."

"Awwwwww," you twins whined in unison, looking at your attendant with puppy dog eyes, hoping she could convince you, only to receive a shake of her head.

The twins stood begrudgingly, approaching your awaiting stance, giving you the same desperate eyes. You gave your own silent response as you offered a warm smile and a quick shake of your head before having them follow you down the halls. In any other scenario, you would have in, but things were different now. Your children need to be well-rested for the upcoming events. You were going to give them the life they deserved.

Arriving at their sleep quarters, you slid the door open, allowing the twins in first before following. Before closing the door, you took a peek out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. Once you deduced nobody was coming, you slowly and quietly slid the door shut, quick to approach your kids' bedside.

"Mama, do we have to go to bed?" your daughter whined.

"Yeah, do we really have to?" your son followed.

You could not help but lightly chuckle at their resistance to sleep. Your heart filled with warmth as you remembered sharing a similar moment with your mother. There were many occasions they reminded you of yourself, and you could not wait to see more of those similarities manifest when you leave this temple. You could not wait to give them a regular and well-deserved life.

"Yes, you both have to rest. You two need to preserve your energy for the days to come."

That statement piqued their interest, their faces perking up with intrigue.

"What is to come, Mama?" the twins sounded in unison like they did so often in these moments. Sometimes, it was almost as if they shared the same mind.

"Well, soon enough, you will get to meet your grandparents," you whispered, "you cousins, aunts, and uncles, all from Mama's side of the family."

"Really?!" the two shouted, settling down when you gestured for them to lower their voices.

"Yes, but do not tell your father, it is..." you trailed, picking your words carefully, "a surprise visit just for the three of us, and I do not want him to feel left out."

There was no doubt that you despised Sukuna in every sense of the word, but you did not wish for your children to hate him. Believe it or not, you wanted your twins to paint a good picture of their father, and whether that picture remained clean was up to Sukuna himself– you would not tarnish his name for him.

"Okay, Mama, we promise we will not tell." your son spoke for the two of them, his sibling nodding in turn as she motioned to seal her lips.

You smiled, whispering a small thank you before kissing the top of their foreheads and letting them rest. You stood quietly, blowing out the candles illuminating the room before leaving. Once you stepped foot into the hallway, you were startled to see a guard, a familiar one at that, though he had clearly aged with time.

"Y/n-sama, I have been instructed to take you to your sleeping chambers," the male spoke before swiftly turning on his heel to lead you to your room.

The man's voice was cold and almost distant as he spoke to you, but his voice was familiar. You were acquainted with most of the staff within the temple, but you could not remember where you had met him in particular, though he seemed familiar and significant. Your face contorted as your mind pondered, trying to recognize his face in your personal timeline, but nothing came to mind.

"Your wedding night," the guard spoke suddenly, noticing your expression of thought, "I held and guarded the door during your wedding night."

You thought back to your wedding day, and it suddenly hit you. The guard was the same one Sukuna had forced to watch the consummation of your marriage. You quickly grew flustered at the memory, clearing your throat before speaking.

"I recall now," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Y/n-sama?" another unshakable tone as he questioned you.

Why was he asking this?

"Yes, I'm happy."

You did not know what this man was playing at, but you did not want to fall into any traps, so you gave the preferred answer when this question was presented to you on many occasions.

"Even though you have suffered all these years, bearing and raising his offspring?"

"Excuse me?" you grimaced at the guard's words.

"Nothing, I am sorry, I have overstepped my boundaries. I will leave you now," the man uttered, leaving you at the doorway to your sleeping quarters.

You narrowed your eyes, staring as the male's figure grew smaller in the distance. What did he gain from that interaction? No matter– it was no longer your problem to deal with. Collecting yourself, you entered the room and immediately faced Sukuna.

"Come and close the door. We must speak of these urgent matters in private," Sukuna muttered as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.

You did not question the man and slid the door closed, approaching him as he turned to you. Before you could speak, Sukuna placed a pair of hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. His gaze held no emotion you could directly name, but you could sense an urgency in his tone as he spoke to you.

"We leave tonight. The others have been informed and are gathering their belongings– I advise you to do the same."

"What?! Now?! Sukuna, what is going on that you are not telling anyone?" you urged, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Now is no time to be questioning me, Y/n. Hurry, we are leaving shortly."

"No."

The word slipped out without thought. You did not care when you left because your plans would not change, but your partner was acting strangely, and you could not help but be curious as to why. The curiosity is what led you to stand there motionless as your husband stared you down.

"Stubborn as always, I see," the curse-user muttered, "Fine, you want to know, huh? We made a pact, and I'm upholding the bargain. You told me to protect those children, right? Well, for their interest, we are leaving, so be grateful."

You stood there silently, looking into Sukana's unwavering gaze.

"What is going on?" you repeated the question.

"Your village plans to lay siege, and we are leaving to not get caught in the firing radius."

That explained the tensity and whispers among the temple. That explained the extra protection. Everything now made sense and you could not help the feeling of something rising up your throat.

Laughter.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to cover your mouth to muffle the outburst, but to no avail. Nothing about the situation was logically funny, but you could not control yourself.

"After years of torment, they only now decide to lay siege?" you cackled, "And the best part is that Ryomen Sukuna is fleeing with his tail between his legs."

You should have seen what was to come next when you made that last statement, feeling your hair being tugged to look up at the man you had insulted. Your laugh quickly subsided, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stared into his orbs. You had crossed a line this time, but for once, you were not scared of the intimidation; however, what had shocked you was Sukuna smashing his lips against yours.

"I am the most feared man in Japan– I have no reason to be scared, at least for myself. I am doing this for us and our creation because I love you, Little Flower."

"You do not love me. You love what I can do for you, Sukuna."

"I see where our children have gotten their observance." Sukuna joked, "But you are not entirely wrong. However, that does not change the fact we are leaving right here and now so collec-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

The deformed man paused mid-sentence at the high-pitched scream, storming out of the room to see the commotion. You wasted no time in following him, walking down the hall before being met with the stench of blood. Had one of the pregnant wives gone into labor? Was someone injured? Or was...

Before you could finish that last thought, you were met with the sight of a lifeless body surrounded by its own red fluid. It was disturbingly familiar, and that was because it was the body of the guard that had escorted you earlier. You were shocked at his mangled state, his face just barely beyond recognition, but before you could allow the shock to settle in, another sound of screams was heard in the opposite direction.

Without thought, you bolted in the direction the screams came from. You flew past those blank walls faster than you knew you were capable of before landing at the sight of another body surrounded by women. It was your attendant, her face frozen in fear, her body almost in the same state as the previous one. This death hit you harder than the earlier one as you covered your mouth, keeping the bile from rising up your throat.

Despite the grief and sickness you were feeling, you could only think of one thing, and that was your twins. You lingered for a second longer before running to your twin's bedroom. You had not noticed, but Sukuna trailed behind you closely as you sprinted through the temple. Your breath was running ragged, but you would be damned if you were to leave your twins behind in this gruesome mess.

You made it to the door, sliding it open and rushing in, your eyes scanning the room for your twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your heart hammered against her chest as you began to panic, turning to Sukuna to see that his face was once again blank as he looked into the room from the doorway. Why did he have that look on his face? It did not matter– you had to search for your children. You turned to look back into the interior room, looking up from the bedrolls to be met with the wall, and heard the sound of a scream once again, your heart dropping.

You had found your twins hanging from the wall, a message written above them that was written in their own blood.

"Bring back our daughter."

Taglist:

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#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death mention #tw dead body #tw suggestive #tw child murder

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littledeathdove · 6 months ago

Text

Rain and Games

I love this header I made of MM so I just HAD to use it for this. This is just a peak of a Mother Miranda x Reader story am planning to write, and me trying to write to get better lol 😭

Word Count: 1714 Words

Pairing: Mother Miranda x Reader

︶︶꒷︶︶୨ৎ︶︶꒷︶︶

Rain pours from the sky, clouds now gray and the sky dark, a direct contrast to how bright and sunny it was only hours ago. Thankfully you are under one of the large trees in the hidden spot you had found in the village’s forest and claimed as your own. The spot you have been having little encounters with Mother Miranda in, but mostly just her crows.

Hmm, speaking of the priestess, you wonder if she will come to the woods today. Likely not, you shouldn’t even be out here yourself, but you got stuck out here when the rain started pouring down all of a sudden and didn’t want to risk getting sick from being rained on. While the rain was very calming as the sound of it hitting the grassy ground mixed in with the gentle playing of you playing your guitar, you wished it wasn’t raining for then Mother Miranda – or even her crows could make an appearance.

The woman’s presence was quite nice to be in, especially when she was in that crow form of hers. You couldn’t particularly say she was nice to be around when she was in her humanoid form that most of the villagers are used to seeing. It was actually pretty awkward to be around her when she was in that form since she would just stand near you and stare, not putting much effort into the small conversations you would try to start with her.

You probably shouldn’t be wishing for her presence out of all the people in this village, since she was one of the most dangerous people in the village. Someone that should strike fear into you, not someone that you should feel comfortable around. However, it wasn’t like she was actively acting as someone who is above you in all aspects – which she definitely was.

The way her crows acted around you, how they would ruffle their feathers and wait for you to feed them with what you will assume to be excitement, how they would fly around you – that would look like they were mimicking dancing – as you played your guitar and told them stories, couldn’t ever help you think of the priestess as you should.

You look up toward the sky as you hear something from the trees around you. It sounded as if something was coming out of them. You slowed down your fingers, which made the sound coming from your guitar quiet down, as you listened for the sign that anything dangerous could be making the sound.

You love the hideout that the woods provide for you, but it has its downsides seeing that it is deep in the woods. Like dangerous animals hiding between the trees, or even worse lycans being out there in the trees, stalking you and just waiting to strike.

A shiver ran down your spine at your thoughts. Though there was nothing out there in the trees when you gave them a look through with your eyes, which was a relief. You looked back up at the trees and this time you saw a black feather falling gracefully like it was in slow motion. Your eyebrows knitted together as you watch it fall, and you feel your chest get hit with a small bit of hope that it could be one of those cute crows feathers. You completely stopped playing your guitar at this point as you put a hand on your chest and mentally pushed down those hopes, not wanting to be disappointed.

Once the feather finally hits the ground you twist your body to reach for it. Just when the tip of your fingers gets close to touching it and possibly being able to drag it closer to you, you hear a loud caw next to the right side of your ear. Startled, you let out a yelp that turns into a groan as you hit the ground next to the bench you were sitting on. Thankfully your arm guards you from getting mud or the feeling of wet grass on your face, but you couldn’t say the same for your clothes, specifically your shirt. Sitting up on your knees, you look down at your shirt which now has mud and small wet spots here and there on it.

You let out an offended huff as you look over at the crow who is perched on the back of the bench, its head tilted as it looks right back at you. You both continue to stare at each other, no blinking, no movement, nothing. After a few more seconds of the staring battle, you just accept being the loser and look away, standing up from your knees and wiping your hands over your shirt. A stupid idea since it smudged the mud around even more.

Great, now it’s going to be even more difficult to wash the mess out.

You look back at the crow with a grimace, deep down though you were quite happy to see the crow, especially since it is one of her’s.

“Why did you give me a scare like that, hm,” You questioned the corvid as you walked back over to the bench, not sitting back down just yet. The crow just let out another caw – that isn’t as loud as the other loud it just let out moments before – before it ruffles its feathers and shakes off the droplets of rain on them.

As it does, the worry of your clothes being messy left your mind as the question of why it, no, why she is here. You turn around and sit back down on the bench, placing your guitar next to you as you do so. You lean your head back and look at the rather big bird again, waiting patiently as it continues to shake itself off completely.

Once it was finished, it fluttered down to your guitar and stomped its feet a couple of times, finding its footing on the instrument. You put your hand a few inches away from the crow’s body, ready to protect it from slipping off of your guitar if it somehow fails to get good footing.

You move your hand back when you are sure the crow won’t fall, and finally ask the question that has been poking at your curiosity. “Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be…I don’t know somewhere warmer?”

The crow looked at you, giving you what you would think would be a flat look if it were human. It lets out another caw as it turns its whole body towards you, looking at you like you have done a crime. Funny how expressive you make these crows out to be in your head.

“I mean I probably shouldn’t be talking, since I am also—” You are cut off by another caw — wow, the audacity! — that you immediately picked up to mean the crow was agreeing with you. You frown as you look back at the crow and cross your arms over your chest.

“Cut me some slack. I was out here before it started pouring, and if I tried to run back to the village grounds I'd get sick from the rain.” You let out a huff finally deeply understating the situation you’re in, “So I really don’t have a choice but to stay out here.”

You look back to the place the crow was just to see two crows there now. What the fuck. Why is she bringing more crows out in this rain? Doesn’t she care about them getting sick…wait can crows even get sick?

While you're staring at the pair of crows in front of you and questioning your knowledge of birds, you see from the corner of your eye something flying down to the other side of the bench and perching there. You snap your neck around to see what it could be only to be met with another crow.

“Ok, what are you doing?” Confusion and suspicion in your voice as you look back and forward from the crow who was standing on the back of the bench, and the two other crows who are still on your guitar. The crow – that you assume was the crow to show up first – sturts towards you, its eyes looking into you as if it is trying to hypnotize you to keep your eyes only on it.

You hear a sound just as the adorable-looking crow places one of its feet on you, stepping into your lap. The sound of air whooshing, a distant sound, even though you can swear that the sound was so close to your ear. You try to turn your head to see what that sound was made by, but this crow that is staring at you so intensely is just not letting your attention free.

Why does it feel like this crow is doing this on purpose? You open your mouth to question the bird but you are left to close your mouth like a fish as the corvid spreads its black wings – such a gorgeous sight, you note – and takes flight suddenly. Eyebrows furrowed, frown on your face, and an odd feeling of disappointment in your chest, you look up to where the bird could have gone but you are just met with the sight of multiple feathers falling from the sky and the tree covering you from the sky.

“What the hell was that? I know crows play games, but why is her crows playing games?” You huff out in confusion of this whole situation.

With no expecting sight to see upwards you start to lower your head back down, but are stopped by the feeling of someone's hand wrapping around your throat. Besides the feeling of cold skin on yours, you also feel the coldness of jewelry on your neck as an unknown person presses rather sharp nails – that might as well be claws – into the side of your neck.

“I didn’t know you were one to complain about someone playing games.” Amusement is laced throughout her tone, and the sound of that voice is one that you will never be one you can miss as long as you live this life of yours. Seems like your wish to have Mother Miranda here with you today has come to fruition.

︶︶꒷︶︶୨ৎ︶︶꒷︶︶

Just something short since this is just a peek, Mother Miranda didn’t get much part since am still trying to figure out how to write her in the way I like.

If you like please do give feedback cause am going to turn this into a full-blown story after I outline/plan it 😋🙏🏾

#mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8 #re8 #mother miranda x reader #a little dabble #ILOVEMYWIFE

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maiko-san · 11 months ago

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The Chain + TP! Reader (4/?)

< Part 3

Plot : You are Twilight's childhood best friend, who like Twilight can turn into an animal, that is a crow. You just happen to follow Twilight into the portal in your crow form and meet the Chain.

Reader's clothes - A grey long sleeved shirt, frilled ribbon and a black overall dress.

Note : You and Twilight went out on a small date and being cute.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Look out!"

Clang!

You watch as the group of heroes fighting off the monsters, the attack was sudden but these people were quick on their feet to retaliate. You're flying high up in the air, circling around and observing the battlefield.

You see a moblin creeping up behind the younger hero, 'Wind!' you caw out to him alerting the boy who turns around and blocks its mace. "Hyah!" the boy pushes the moblin back as Warriors comes in, plunging his sword into the monster's chest.

"Are you alright?" he asked the boy, Wind smiles. "I'm fine, captain!" he said, his blue eyes look up to you and wave. "Thanks for the heads up, (Y/n)!" he shouted.

It didn't take long for them to clear out the monsters, leaving none to escape their sight. Everyone is exhausted and drenched in monster blood, "Ah, great. My clothes are ruined" Legend sighed as he cringed at the sight of blood on his tunic.

"Guess, we have a laundry day" Hryule smiles, wiping away from blood from his hand.

"The monsters have gotten stronger faster than I expected" Warriors said, swinging his sword to get rid of the blood. "Even if they are getting stronger, their numbers have increases too. I'm worried that we might get overwhelmed in the future battle" Time said, turning to the group "Might as well resupply important needs, especially potions" Time said.

"I will handle the potions" Hyrule said. "Then, I shall start sharpening everyone's weapons!" Four said before trailing off, "After I get myself clean off, hehe" he said. "Alright, after we wash ourselves. We will head to the nearest town. Hryule will handle the potions and Four with the weapons as always. Twilight, Legend and I will rent rooms for all of us and the others will find much needed supplies" Time said. "Yes, sir!" they shouted after receiving their duties.

Twilight looks up to you and holds out his hand, "(Y/n), come here!" he calls out, you shake your head as you eye his blood covered hand. 'I am not landing on that!' you said. 'and you smell too! All of you!'.

True, the smell of blood is everywhere and you don't want to be near it, not wanting to have that scent of you.

'Anyways....I can see a huge waterfall from here, follow me!' you said to Twilight, turning around and flying towards the waterfall. "What did she say to you?" Sky questioned Twilight, the group always sees Twilight talking to the bird and understands her crows. "She sees a waterfall not far from here and wants us to follow her" Twilight said.

"Let's hurry up before the blood dries up" Legend said as he walked ahead.

After they washed themselves up, they headed towards the nearest town and split up into groups. The inn keeper doesn't allow pets in the room much to Twilight's dismay but you assure him that you're fine with it, you told him that you want to take a look around the town.

"I'm going to take a stroll around and see what the pups are up to, Time" Twilight said, making an excuse so that he and you can walk together. "Sure, tell them to return before sunset" Time said. Twilight nods as he walks out the inn with you as he enters an alleyway so you could transform back into a human. You close your eyes as you feel your body shifts and you return into your human form.

"This place looks amazing, let's check everything out!" you smiled up at him. You were excited, it has been days you haven't been to Castle Town— no wait, this one is a different kind of Castle Town! You wonder what stuff they have around!

Twilight hesitates a bit, but seeing you this happy makes all of his worries melt away. "Alright, let's go" he said, holding out his arm for you to hold. You giggle and hug his arm, "Let's go!" you cheered. You drag the blonde to the town centre and see all the stalls, the music is playing and people are having fun.

Twilight's keen sense of smell picks up the others, well mostly Warrior, Four, Wind and Sky. He sees them through the window of a tavern and are enjoying themselves, they seem to be occupied with betting against each other on a drinking competition.

"Link, look! Look!" your voice caught his attention, you're tugging on his arm as you point out that sells twinkling trinkets, colourful pins and more. "They're so pretty and shiny!" you said, eyes sparkling at the sight of the trinkets but something caught your eyes. "Oh, look at this one!" you said picking up a cute wolf brooch pin and showing it to Twilight. "It's cute, right? Just like you" you said, giving him a cute smile.

Twilight couldn't help but cover his face with his hand, hiding his red face. As you're occupied yourself admiring the brooch in your hand, his eyes land on a box that has a beautiful flower hairclip. "Ah it seems you have a really good eye, ay?" Twilight looks up to the clerk.

"Hm, do you want to buy it as a gift for the lovely lady?" the clerk questioned. "It's really beautiful isn't? It was crafted by the finest smith in town! A very delicate process, the jewels are 100% pure!" the clerk explained as he leans close to Twilight, causing him to lean back. "All women love these things! Just imagine how happy she be!" he said. "Here, take a closer look!" the clerk holds out the box close to Twilight.

His nose twitch as Twilight narrows his eyes, 'A fake....' he thought. He smelled a lot of jewellery and can now differentiate between a real and a fake. Clearly this man is scamming people to buy them....

"How much does it cost?" he asked the clerk. "That would be 10,000 rupees" Twilight gawk at the price.

"I think I pass. I'm just—" the clerk suddenly takes Twilight's hands, "Oh no! There is more for you to see! Come, come!" Twilight tries to hide his irritation, "Sir, please. I am not interested in buying" he said sternly as he pulls his hand away. "Besides we're here to have fu— (Y/n)?" as Twilight turns, you were nowhere in sight.

"(Y/n)?!" he said in panic.

"Oh, no. It seems the lady ran away" the clerk mocks, "Shut up!" Twilight barks at the clerk as the man cowers in fear at the rage in Twilight's expression. The blonde looks through the crowds trying to find the (h/c) haired.

You stand here, quite awkwardly. Your (e/c) eyes clashes with blue ones. 'I thought he was my Link....' you thought, sweating bullets. His sharp blue eyes stare at you, his gaze looks down at your hands linking with his arm. "Hey, miss. Are you looking for someone?" he asked raising an eyebrow, Legend was it?

"I-I...uh..uh- umm..." you stutter as you slowly release his arm, about this Legend, he's quite intimidating and doesn't have a really welcoming aura but you know that he's kindhearted.

"I-I got the wrong person! I am so sorry!" you said, before sprinting away, leaving the vet quite confused.

You hold your chest as you try to calm yourself down, your face is red from embarrassment. Oh, Hylia. What were you doing? You didn't realise that you stray away from the trinket stall and went to another one, you thought you followed Twilight but it wasn't him!

"This is so embarrassing— gwuh!" you suddenly trip yourself on a small pebble which causes you to fall on the ground. You lay there, "Gyaaaa! I am so stupid! What kind of a wife who can't recognize her own husband?!" you cried, punching the ground repeatedly.

"Hey, miss. Are you alright? Are you hurt?" a voice said, you slowly lift your head up. Your eyes are brimming with tears, "I'm fine...I just..." your vision clears and you finally see who's right in front of you.

Hryule, his eyes are laced with worry. "Here" he said with a gentle smile holding his hand out for you to take. You take his hand as he helps you on your feet, you hiss in pain and look down to see that you scratched your knee.

"Let me help" he said as he kneels down. You wave your hands around trying to stop him, "Please, it's just a little scratch! You don't have to—". He takes out something from his bag, a small container that has a medicine cream. "I insist, I can't let a beautiful lady like you walking around with an injured knee" he said, your lips went flat as you let him do his job. "I hope this helps! I made this one myself from the herbs I found during my travels" he said. He wipes the cream gently on your scratch knee, it was cool and it makes the pain goes away. He takes out a bandage and wraps it around your knee.

You look at him, "Thank you so much!" you said, "No problem! I'm happy to help!" he said. You shift on your feet as you slowly turn around, "Thank you again!" you said, walking away like a mechanically and as you turn around the corner, you finally loosen yourself up.

'I hope I don't encounter any more of them, if so I will lose my mind—' suddenly the window near your crashes causes you to let out a scream of fear.

A man sprawls on the ground, clearly drunk. You turn your head slowly and see that the tavern is on full brawl mode. "Come on me!!!!" a scream was heard and you see Warrior, who is quite drunk and is brawling with a random person. Sky is passed out on the table, Wind is cheering on the brawl chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight!", while Four is spurting nonsense while holding a mug full of beer.

"Hey, lady!" the hair on your body stands up and you turn your head to see a man, looking down on you. He's reeked with alcohol and cigarettes. "You're pretty, let's hang out. I'll pay for your drinks and *hic* make you have a good time" he said, winking at you causing you to cringe. "No thank you" you said as you try to slip past him, but he grabs your arm tightly. "Hey, where are you going? I'm offering you a free drink!" he said, trying to tug you close to him.

"I said, no! Let me go!" you said, trying to pry his hand off but he kept a really tight grip. "Come on~!" he tugs you harshly causing you to yelp in pain, "Let me go!" you shouted, kicking the man's leg but it didn't affect him that much.

Out of nowhere, someone punches the man and knocks the teeth out of him, he collapses on the ground with a loud thud. "Leave her alone!" it was Legend. He turns to you, "He didn't do anything to you, right?" he asked as you shakes you head.

Legend let out a sigh, "It's dangerous to be close to the tavern especially that..." he pointed out to the chaos inside the tavern. "Thank you for saving me, I appreciate your help" you said. "Hmpf.." Legend huffed, turning his gaze away. "Be careful next time okay...." he said quietly. Your eyes lock with his, you couldn't help but give him a smile.

"You're really sweet of you!" you said. Legend blinks as red blush dusting his cheek, he looks away. "Shut up and just go before more weirdos come out! I ain't saving your sorry ass, ya know" he said. He opens one eye to you still standing there, smiling. Legend clicks his tongue, "Geez..." he said as he walk into the tavern.

You make your way to a more crowded area and away from dark alleys, "(Y/n) there you are!" it was Twilight. He let out a sigh of relief once he finally found you, he pulled you into a hug "I thought I lost you....you were missing for an hour" he said. "Did I get lost that long?" you feel like minutes but didn't think you were missing for about an hour.

"I'm sorry for straying away" you apologize to Twilight, "It's okay, love. You didn't do it on purpose" he said, gently tucking your behind your ear. He cups your chin and tilts your head up, "How about we have a little dance?" he asked as you smiled, "Sure!". Twilight pulls you to the center of the town where people are dancing to the music.

Both of you have a fun time together, at the same time you told him what had happened. Twilight didn't like what he heard when you told him about the creep.

"Where is he? Let me give him another punch!" he said. You assure him that Legend saves you and you are fine.

"Still, I want to punch him for hurting my wife!"

[ End of Part ]

#linked universe x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu x reader #link x reader #linked universe time #linked universe wild #linked universe twilight #linked universe wind #linked universe hyrule #linked universe sky #linked universe legend #linked universe four #linked universe warriors #linked universe #Twilight and Reader are a married couple #various x reader

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fox-guardian · 2 years ago

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I am still thinking so hard about artist Jon.

Like. It's a hobby for him, purely, he doesn't plan to make money off of it. It's just for fun. He doodled a bit in his free time and then took life drawing classes in uni because Georgie insisted he needed to get out and do something more than studying so he. Kept studying. But just art this time.

He would describe his style as a kind of realism, but its definitely stylized in colors at least, as he's impatient and goes for bolder colors for lighting pretty early in his process so he doesn't lose the feeling of the piece, especially if it never gets finished. He wants to keep the vibes, just in case he wants to go back to it, so he doesn't forget.

He kinda falls of drawing after he starts at the institute, but I think during season 4 he picks it up again to cope with. Everything. He's not using his fancy drawing supplies since he doesn't have them anymore, just office pens and pencils. It's a lot of Martin, of course. But also Tim. He wishes he could ask Melanie to describe Sasha for him so he could try to draw her too, but he figures that wouldn't go down very well. Besides, telling his coworkers he draws is too much vulnerability anyway. Sometimes he even draws The Admiral, but he doesn't often draw animals so it never does him justice in his eyes.

Then at the safehouse, he works up the nerve and asks if Martin could sit for him for a bit. He doesn't need to pose or anything, just stay right there, Martin, keep reading that book, just don't move too much for a while, the lighting is perfect, he needs to capture it. He needs to map it with pen and paper. His phone camera could never catch the golden light on Martin's hair, and besides, the photo could lie to him later. But muscle memory and scratches in paper are harder to change, surely. He needs to record the moment like this. Hold it to his heart. Feel it in his wrist as he swipes strands of hair across the page, in his shoulder as his arm arcs down the curve of Martin's stomach, in his fingertips as he smudges the pigment he bought from the local craft supply shop to form a reddened cheek.

And Martin's cheeks are red. After everything that's happened, all the distance, his heart wasn't prepared for the intimacy of sitting before the man he loves being lovingly analyzed and having his likeness put to paper. It's exciting and agonizing at the same time, feeling eyes on him for hours as Jon stares down every curve, maps out every freckle, mole, and blemish. And when Martin sees the final image as Jon sheepishly presents it to him, he cries. He remembers feeling the fear of statement givers as he read their stories, living it through the words written. It was kind of like that, only instead of fear, he felt the overwhelming love pressed into every line on the page. Every stroke, every smudge, even tucked into the negative space, filling him up until it couldn't be contained, and he burst into tears. (Which worried Jon greatly until Martin reassured him with a hug and a kiss.)

He doesn't ask Jon to stop drawing him. How could he, when it was always with such love behind it? Not to mention Jon was getting back in the swing of it, oiling his rusty skills, and he was so happy doing it. But he will admit it was mildly mortifying seeing their home fill up with so many portraits of him, steadily increasing in their flattering composition. Jon was drawing from his imagination now that he had memorized most of Martin's form, and it was getting out of hand. He once caught a glimpse of a work in progress of Martin lounging and being fed grapes by cherubs. Good lord.

#ramblings with major #the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #artist!jon #this got out of hand. its fine. akdjsksjs

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gingerteawrites · 8 months ago

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Drabble: Summer dates

Where Nanami is the most attentive to you.

A/N: I’m so glad to bring you this new drabble. I’ve been thinking a lot of more characters to write about on the blog, but as always, Nanami comes out on top. I have not edited this very thoroughly, so, apologies if it’s a bit clunky.

Please feel free to suggest ideas you would like me to write about, as well as characters from various anime and games you would want to see. I truly love reading your thoughts more than anything.

Content: fluff, established relationship, Nanami X reader. Reader is described in a more feminine manner but no pronouns used.

You and Nanami did not go out together nearly as much as other couples. Between your jobs/studies, jujutsu, and the general fatigue that adulthood seemed to be tied with, most weekends were spent at home, where you shared soft touches and home-cooked meals.

This weekend, however, Nanami had decided that you deserved to get out of the house for things other than just work obligations. As you ate breakfast beside each other, he explained how he planned a day outside for you two.

“This spot has very good pastries. And I know you’ve been wanting to explore the new shopping district in Roppongi,” he said, his voice a smooth rumble, enveloping you in its warmth as you felt your heart squeeze in affection.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, your lips forming a light pout as you reached out to squeeze his hand. He smiled at you and pulled your chair closer to his in one swift motion to deliver a feather-light kiss to your lips “Of course I had to. You deserve everything, my love.” He whispered against your lips, and if you had not been sitting already, you would have crumpled to the floor with the way it made your knees go weak.

With the summer heat hitting Tokyo in insistent waves, you settled on wearing a light sundress that fit snugly at the top and sprawled out until your knees, which had caused you to almost not make it out of the house with the way that Kento had squeezed your waist and kissed your exposed neck, mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

Nanami had ditched his usual suit and tie for a pair of loose white slacks and a brown polo shirt. He locked the door behind the both of you and as you stepped into the sweltering heat, you squinted your eyes at the bright sun. But before you could even comment on its intensity, Nanami pulled out a parasol from the bag he carried, splaying it open above your heads.

His eyes met yours with a knowing look, and you smiled back in silent thanks.

Walking through the streets hand in hand made you feel all giddy. Nanami had never been one for PDA, feeling that Gojo invaded his personal space enough. But being with you had caused him to want to feel a part of your body at all times. Knowing you were in his hold put him at ease, like he could protect you if anything came up.

You finally made it to Roppongi, exiting the train station with the rush of other people out for the weekend. Lunch consisted of cold noodles and refreshing shaved ice, and you bought pastries to eat as a dessert for dinner later in the evening.

“I saw a new bread recipe online, I think it’s called focaccia?” You said as you exited the bakery “I’ll try my hand at it tomorrow.”

“I am sure it would be perfect. We can use it to make sandwiches.” He smiled at your enthusiasm, carrying the conversation toward what to include in the following week’s work bentos.

Your eyes wandered a bit, gasping in excitement when you noticed a new stationery shop in the square, which Nanami gladly led you two to, entering the store with the tune of a small bell’s jingle. You were browsing their sticker collection when Nanami’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

His eyebrows knit at the intrusion, and his finger immediately went to reject the call, wanting to focus all his attention on you. But you, noticing the caller ID insisted on him picking up the video call. He turned away from you and pressed the green button.

“Nanamiiiiiiiiiiiin” Yuji’s voice greeted loudly, with a wide grin pulling at his lips, causing Nanami to wince slightly at the boy’s energy. “Fushiguro you owe me, see? He actually picked up!” He snickered, flipping the camera towards a scowling Megumi.

Nobara peered from behind Yuji, gripping onto his shoulder and pulling at it roughly so she could see the screen better “Oh! Are you in Roppongi!?” she exclaimed, immediately recognizing the surroundings. Yuji’s own eyes went wide, as he brought the phone closer to his face “Oooooh, Nanami-san is enjoying himself without us!” the boy added.

Nanami grunted lightly, raising an eyebrow at his students’ shenanigans “If you all don’t have anything to say, I’m hanging up,” he announced.

You snickered lightly at the scenario unfolding before you, but accidentally dropped a roll of washi tape you had been examining. It rolled towards Nanami’s feet and before you could bend down to pick it up, your man beat you to it, causing you to inadvertently come into view on the video call.

“Is that Y/N-san??” Nobara asked, catching a glimpse of your face “You look so pretty today!” she said, and Yuji greeted you enthusiastically. “I told y’all not to call. See, they’re probably on a date.” Megumi scolded his mates, lips pressed together.

You waved at the group, Nanami moving aside so you took most of the screen. “Hi everyone, I hope you’ve all been enjoying your break,” you said, the melody of your voice prompting them to go on about their summer break activities.

You chuckled when they explained their antics, revealing that they had grown bored and bet on which one of their teachers would pick up the phone off-duty. Surprisingly, even the ever-available Ichiji had turned off his phone, causing the students to almost lose all hope.

Nanami watched your face as you effortlessly conversed with his students, his initial irritation easing, replaced by a fond look. You eventually waved your goodbyes, not wanting to neglect your date.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Megumi said sheepishly. “I’ll send you a picture of me trying on that shade!” Nobara added. “You should try the revolving sushi! Byeeee!” Yuji waved off, before cutting the call.

“They completely forgot I was even here,” Nanami commented, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You chuckled at his words, your hand finding his as you softly intertwined your fingers.

“Shall we get the kids some souvenirs?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked up at your lover. He melted under your gaze, a small smile gracing his features as he brought your hand to his lips. How could he ever say no to you? “Of course my love.” You did not realize just how weak this man was for you.

#jjk x reader #anime #jjk #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #jjk fluff #fluff #drabble #jjk drabbles #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #nanami x reader #gingerteawrites

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gallowdancingmuck · 2 months ago

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Analyzing W(e)yler Part Four:

(I was going to talk about Tyler’s arc but got super excited about this analysis and found it’s best to explain this in detail to make Tyler’s analysis more concise.)

Y'all its time to talk about the significance of Frankenstein. As soon as Laurel presented the book to Wednesday I knew she was behind it all. What I didn’t realize was how this whole show is an ode to Frankenstein, or I dare even say the creators own fix it fic?

Tyler:

The most obvious correlation is Tyler as Frankenstein’s Monster. The monster is “assembled from old body parts and strange chemicals, animated by a mysterious spark” (Sparknotes) much like Tyler’s hyde is genetic, activated by Laurel’s plant derivatives, and animated by his spark with Wednesday. I am giving credit to Wednesday for animation because I speculate the hyde did not develop his snarkiness and personality with Laurel (she would not nurture him to have any sense of self) but rather developed it after spending time with Wednesday and her quirks. The monster displays humanity and gentility, but due to his appearance, is shown disdain from his creator and is isolated from society. Tyler is a kind boy who displays compassion and friendliness, but due to his mother’s death, father’s neglect, and master’s abuse, he is faced with estrangement from every parental figure in his life. Add to this the knowledge of the hydes stigmatized nature even within the outcast community and he is predisposed to becoming monstrous. While I can’t say for sure, I think next season we will hear more about Tyler’s guilt and anger over what he is and what he has done which is exactly the way the Monster feels throughout the novel, regretful over his own monstrosity.

Wednesday:

Wednesday I believe is an amalgamation of Victor, Walton, and the Monster’s companion. I combine all three because I think in an effort to mend the original storyline, the creators need to “fix” these characters' fatal flaws. While Laurel is the obvious equivalent to Victor, Wednesday shares a lot of Victor’s characteristics (ambitious, obsessive, reckless) and is meant to resolve Victor’s flaws. Victor is so concerned with being successful and assuaging his curiosity he often fails to see the impact he has on other people. Wednesday struggles with this as well because she often equates her life to being all about her (“every day is about me”) that she neglects the fact her life is interconnected with her loved ones. Victor begins the story ignoring his family in pursuit of his goals much like Wednesday is disconnected from her family due to her actions, and continues to miscalculate the repercussions her actions have on her friends (Eugene going to the cave alone, Enid and Tyler getting hurt at the mansion, Thing being stabbed). Like Victor, Wednesday currently has no active empathy towards Tyler’s experience (She makes a few offhand comments but she is not acting with empathy yet) and makes judgements based on only her perspective.

The divergence of Victor and Wednesday comes when Wednesday begins to take accountability for her the risk she puts her loved ones in. Unlike Victor who continually blames the monster and never admits his part in the chaos, Wednesday takes the blame (sometimes too much) and begins to make compromises to protect her loved ones. These compromises come in the form of forming partnerships with Tyler, Enid, Weems etc. Another difference is that while Victor hates and fears the Monster, Wednesday is not horrified or disgusted by Tyler, merely disappointed. A contributing factor to why I think Wednesday is able to do all of this is she has courage and a sense of justice that Victor does not. Victor, despite all his grandiose beliefs still seeks societal validation (this is the main reason he does not tell the Judge about Justine’s innocence), and places himself over any morality.

Wednesday acts as Walton because this story is told through her narration. Walton also is meant to be a more grounded Victor, evidenced by his decision to turn back when his voyage became too dangerous. Theoretically, if Wednesday is only one character she is Walton, because Walton does exemplify Victor, but it is harder to parallel specific events since Frankenstein explores Walton’s perceptions more than actions and because Walton does not have the same personal connection to the Monster as Wednesday has to Tyler.

I say Wednesday is also the monster’s companion because once we remove the emotional conflict between her and Tyler concerning his betrayal, Wednesday and Tyler are the same (refer to part one of my analysis series). While Shelley never had the Companion come to fruition, the Companion was meant to act as a source of comfort and relatability for the Monster, and Wednesday is that for Tyler. She is all the things Tyler is afraid to accept about himself, and she does it in a way that is encouraging to Tyler. The Companion could have calmed the Monster's loneliness and remedied the narrative if she came to life and accepted him, and since the creators are using the show as a conduit to fix this narrative, I firmly believe Wednesday will come to accept Tyler.

Based on Frankenstein and what snippets we've seen of season 2 (I’m geeking over the teaser), this is what I expect moving forward.

If it is not a circumstance that requires Tyler’s help, Wednesday is going to go see him out of revenge (you know she will taunt Tyler). Much like Victor meeting the Monster in the mountains, Wednesday will meet Tyler at Willow Hill. In this meeting I think Tyler will blame the loneliness and manipulation and probably be just as abrasive as Wednesday is towards him. At some point however he will express remorse and even ask Wednesday to not help him escape but perhaps to kill him. Tyler is going to be in such a bad state he will fluctuate between rage and depression. When Laurel is brought up he will lament her the same way the Monster lamented Victor’s death, with relief but loss at a solid connection. Wednesday will strike a deal with Tyler. What this deal is I don’t know, but it will act as Victor’s deal of making a Companion for the Monster. The deal between Wednesday and Tyler will be a more concrete, logical deal, but in working together to make it happen she will become his companion (source of understanding, support) and their relationship will reconcile. This will diverge from Victor turning away from the Monster and rescinding the deal. While this already steers us in the direction of resolution it won’t be that simple.

At the end of the season, after Wednesday has fully forgiven Tyler and their relationship has grown attached again, something will happen that causes Tyler to leave or distance himself from Wednesday. It will either be in a soul searching pursuit or Tyler thinking he is better off alone. Either way it sets up for next season to focus on their reunion, Tyler’s self actualization, and hopefully Tyler’s admission to Nevermore.

A few other parallels I want to include but don’t have the energy to integrate eloquently:

Enid as Henry Clerval

Enid represents Henry Clerval, Victor’s best friend who dies at the hand of the monster. Clerval is the more socially acceptable version of Victor, they share ambition but Clerval is able to express himself in a more socially digestible way. Victor sees Clerval as his equal and closest friend. As we see the show progress we see Wednesday begin to connect with Enid and see her as an equal. Both relationships are meant to show the importance of companionship and allow Wednesday and Victor to find comfort and connection.

Enid did not (and will not) be killed by Tyler, but she did suffer an attack from him. Frankestein used Clerval’s death to traumatize Victor and cement his hatred for the Monster, so I think the fight with Enid will serve as a reason for Wednesday to prolong the bad blood between her and Tyler.

Xavier

Xavier doesn’t represent a specific character but more so his relationship with Wednesday seems reminiscent of Victor and Elizabeth’s. I personally don’t hate Xavier but I do not like his relationship with Wednesday. He seems to project an idea of her rather than seeing her, and when Wednesday fails to match this image, he blows up. It correlates because Victor does not truly see Elizabeth and only relegates her to his possession ( “I[…]looked upon Elizabeth as mine.”). If Xavier’s character remained in the show, I think it would only amount to him blaming the state of his and Wednesday’s relationship on Tyler, just as Victor blamed Elizabeth’s death on the Monster, when in reality it stemmed from his own neglect and lack of consideration.

Eugene as William Frankenstein

Since Puglsey was not at Nevermore, Wednesday adopted Eugene as a surrogate brother, and much like William, Eugene has a cheerful and childlike presence that acts to represent innocence. In the book William is the first victim of the Monster, and is what is symbolic of Victor’s loss of innocence, naivety, and control. Eugene being attacked was the event that turned the mystery of the hyde into a serious and personal pursuit, and just like Willaims death, Eugene’s attack is what “sealed fate” and made it so our protagonist would not stop until the monster was confronted.

Gomez & Morticia as Alphonse Frankenstein

Alphonse is Victor’s loving father, who acts as a contrast between Victor’s fragmented relationship with the Monster. Morticia and Gomez are extremely devoted and affectionate but despite this Wednesday has trouble in her personal relationships. In terms of her and Tyler, it shows how despite having a healthy relationship modeled, Wednesday and Tyler’s relationship will remain complicated until the two reconcile their family dynamics.

Francoise Galpin as Caroline Frankenstein

Caroline and Franocise are two characters that haunt the narrative of the story. Caroline’s death affected Victor and could be cited as the root of his obsession with death and the creation of life (mommy issues). He even so much has calls his mother’s death an “omen” of his “future misery”. Francoise’s mistreatment and death is what triggered the events of Tyler’s unlocking, if she had been accepted and lived, Laurel would not have been able to manipulate Tyler’s love for his mother and Tyler would probably be more empowered instead of confused and isolated. Caroline is also reduced to a maternal figure who died so her child could live (she dies from taking care of her sick child) and I think Francoise will be revealed to have admitted herself to Willowhill and died there or to have killed herself to protect Donovan and Tyler.

Why Fix Frankenstien?

I personally think that Tim Burton is rooting for Frankenstein (and implicitly Wyler) because he is a horror lover! I love consuming media that analyzes horror and interviews the people that make it happen and I’ve noticed that a lot of the people who make horror don’t blame the monster and actually wish for its happy ending. After all, the monster in movies is typically only meant to act as a focal point for the true monsters, people, society, etc. to act against. If we look at Tim Burton’s work, he tends to empathize with the monster (Corpse Bride, Frankenweenie, Beetlejuice). As for other horror moguls, you can look up interviews by Guillermo del Toro and Stephen King where they reference the Creature from the Black Lagoon and talk about how they wanted the monster to get the girl. This is what inspired the Shape of Water. A quote that I think exemplifies this mindset is “the creature only gets deadly when threatened by man, and is desperately in need of companionship” (David Konow, author of Reel Horror). Horror is a genre that focuses on the underdog overcoming terrifying circumstances. What could be scarier for an outcast than being taken advantage of and thrown away? What could be more vindicating than defeating the naysayers and winning the companionship of a pretty girl? I just feel like Wyler makes the most logical sense for the genre and would be a lot more satisfying because Frankenstein is universally seen as such a tragedy and the genre is all about glory and gore and love and horror and Wyler really exemplifies all of these qualities!

#wyler #analysis #the addams family #tyler galpin #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #weyler #frankenstein #enid sinclair #xavier thorpe #gomez and morticia #francoise galpin #eugene ottinger #wednesday season 2

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aretheyqueer · 9 months ago

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Is your blorbo gay? trans? ace? Does no one else see the vision?

Then welcome to @/aretheyqueer where we vote to determine who's lgbt and who's not. Everything decided through this will legally become canon. (Unless you don't want it to be).

The blog is run by an agender bisexual-ish person. My pronouns are they/them. I also run @do-you-ship-it-polls and @do-you-know-this-baby (way too many)

I have anonymous asks turned off, but feel free to dm me if there's something you'd like to ask/say privately.

Clarification:

With lgbt+, I include anything you can think of basically. Lesbian, gay, bi, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, intersex, xenogenders. However, this is only for non-canon identities. If they are canonically lgbt, then I highly recommend @do-you-know-this-queer-character and @douknowthisgaydisabledcharacter . You can also put canon trans characters into this spreadsheet!

This is all meant in good fun. Providing a reason for your claim sounds more exciting, but you can submit based on vibes or because you want to. A character can take part in multiple polls. A man can be headcanoned as a lesbian. If you believe it in your heart, it can become reality.

Credit:

I use the pride-themed hearts dividers made by @cafekitsune (link).

Submission rules:

Submissions are currently open. When they are closed, if you see a character in the queue that you'd like to send propaganda/reasoning for, you can dm me or send me an ask with your addition. I won't publish these asks.

Submit through the form above please!

No real people unless its funny (things like BSD and the Hamilton musical is ok)

They cannot be confirmed to be the identity you're requesting - but they can show traits for it. A wlw character can get a poll as a lesbian or bisexual, for example. An unspecified non-cis character can get a poll as nonbinary. Etc.

This will not be followed 100% because I am dumb. don't kill me

No Harry Potter, Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss. Sorry!

Here is a spreadsheet of submissions i've received, in case you don't want to submit something that's already submitted, or want to add additional propaganda/reasoning.

It doesn't update automatically, so your request won't shop up immediately.

Similar blogs:

(none associated with me)

@are-they-gender-fluid

@aretheybisexual

@are-they-trans

@is-the-character-aroacespec

@are-they-a-faggot

Fandom jail

None!

Tags:

#gay , #lesbian , #trans etc for each label. exception is intersex which is under #intersex headcanon

You can also use #[identity] headcanon

#anime , #tv shows , #video games etc for each media.

#asks , #not a poll

Updates:

Submissions are currently open.

Please behave <3

#gimmick blog #lgbt headcanons #lgbtqia #lgbtq+#lgbt+

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 2 months ago

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🎄 Strictly Research

Strictly Research: Visiting a strange place every night in your dreams, your questions are endless as you promptly forget about the dream when you wake up. That is, until you cross paths with a strange man more than willing to assist you in some research.

Warnings: Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: Morpheus x AFAB!Reader

Prompt: Anonymous Sex

Word Count: ~10.2k

You find yourself in a weird, but beautiful place. The air shimmers with a surreal quality, making every breath feel like inhaling a mystery. You're standing on the edge of a vast field of flowers that seem to whisper secrets as they sway in a non-existent breeze.

"Back again, I see," a voice murmurs from behind you. You turn and face a bird perched on a low branch of a gnarled tree. His beady eyes fixate on you with an uncanny awareness.

"Who are you?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. You are fairly certain you've never met a talking bird before.

"The names Matthew," the bird tells you before muttering underneath his breath, "for the thousandth time." You feel a sense of déjà vu as Matthew's eyes bore into yours, but shrug it off.

"Matthew? And where exactly am I?" you ask, scanning the horizon for any familiar landmarks.

Matthew flaps his wings, settling more comfortably on the branch. "You're in the Dreaming, kid. Place where dreams and nightmares come to life. It's kinda my beat."

You glance around, taking in the fantastical landscape. "So, this isn't real?"

"It's real enough," Matthew caws. "But don't worry about it too much. Dreaming's got its own rules."

"Why am I here?" you press, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and unease.

"Cause you're asleep," Matthew replies, a bit of a 'duh' tone in his voice.

You blink, trying to process what Matthew has just said. "Asleep? But I don't remember going to bed."

Matthew hops from the branch, flapping his wings until he lands on the ground before you. "Most don't, but I wouldn't worry about it… so, what do ya wanna see first this time?"

This time? Again, you have no recollection of ever being a place like this, but you shrug, your mind was filling with questions and you wanted answers.

Your curiosity bubbles over, and you start peppering Matthew with questions. "So, what exactly is the Dreaming? Is it like a different dimension or something? Are there other creatures here besides you? Can people get hurt in their dreams? How do you even know I'm asleep? Do you talk to everyone who comes here?"

Matthew ruffles his feathers, seemingly overwhelmed by the barrage. "Slow down, kid. One question at a time."

"But there's just so much to know!" you exclaim, barely able to contain your excitement. "Like, what kind of creatures live here? And why can you talk? Are there other talking animals? Oh my god will I be able to talk to fish!?"

The raven hops closer, his beady eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. You are like this every damn time you visited. "The Dreaming's got all sorts of beings—dreams, nightmares, gods, myths, you name it. Some are friendly; others... not so much."

"Gods and myths?" Your eyes widen in astonishment. "So like... Greek gods? Norse gods? Pagan gods? Are they all here?"

"Yeah, yeah, those types and more," Matthew replies with a dismissive flap of his wings. "As for why I can talk—well, that's just part of the gig."

You lean in closer, fascinated. "And do you always look like a raven? Or can you change form? I know some species of birds can talk but your pronunciation is awesome! But birds don't have vocal chords…"

Matthew seems to sigh, though you’re not quite sure how a raven manages such an expression. "Always with the questions. Look, kid, I'm here to help you navigate the Dreaming, not give you a biology lesson on birds."

"Right, sorry," you mutter, trying to rein in your excitement. "So, where to first?"

The raven tilts his head as if considering your request. "Well, there's Dream's castle at the heart of the Dreaming. It's got this eerie beauty that you'll never forget."

"Dream's castle?" you ask, curiosity piqued once again. "Who's Dream?"

Matthew flaps his wings and takes off, hovering just above your head. "Dream of the Endless, also known as the boss. He's the king around here."

You watch him circle above you before he starts flying in a particular direction. "Come on," he calls back to you. "Follow me if you wanna see something cool." Matthew knows you geek out over the village full of dreams, nightmares and denizens every time you see them.

You follow Matthew as he flies low, leading you through a winding path that twists and turns, each step feeling like an adventure. The scenery changes fluidly—trees morph into towering spires of crystal, streams turn into glowing ribbons of light. It’s like walking through a living painting.

“Here we are,” Matthew announces, landing on a cobblestone street that appears out of nowhere. You look up and see a village bustling with activity.

Your eyes widen in amazement as you take in the sight. Beings of all shapes and sizes go about their day—some human-like, others so fantastical you can't even describe them. A creature with the body of a lion and the wings of an eagle carries a basket of what looks like glowing fruits. A woman with hair made of flames chats with a small, translucent figure who seems to be made entirely of water.

“Oh my god! This is incredible!” you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement.

“Every night,” Matthew mutters under his breath but you don’t hear him.

“Look at that guy!” you point at a being who seems to be a walking cloud. “Is he made of mist? How does that even work?”

The cloud-being turns and waves at you, accustomed to your nightly enthusiasm and questions. “Good evening! Yes, I’m composed mostly of vapor.”

“And you?” You rush over to a tall figure with eyes that glow like embers. “What are you?”

The figure chuckles warmly. “I am Ignis, a dream forged from fire. It's nice to see you again.” Ignis chuckles at the brief confusion in your eyes before excitement overshadows it.

“Wow! That’s amazing! Do you ever get cold? How do you stay warm?” Your questions spill out in rapid succession.

Ignis smiles kindly. “In the Dreaming, we don’t worry about such things.”

You dart over to another creature—a tiny being with wings that sparkle like diamonds. “And you? Are you a fairy? Do you grant wishes?”

The fairy giggles, her voice like tinkling bells. “Something like that. We help shape pleasant dreams.”

Matthew flaps his wings and lands on your shoulder. “See? Same questions every night,” he says, but there's an affectionate note in his voice. "I am surprised none of you have gone bat shit crazy yet…"

"That's because the mortal is too adorably excited about our home," A dream grunts from where he is washing the front of his shop.

You barely register his words as you continue to marvel at the village around you. "This place is just... unbelievable!"

A tall man with horns and eyes like molten gold passes by, giving you a nod. "Welcome back," he says with a knowing smile.

"Thank you!" You beam at him before a puzzled look crosses your face. "How do I know you?"

The tall man with molten gold eyes chuckles softly at your puzzled expression. "Never mind that," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "There's much more to see at the palace."

Matthew, still perched on your shoulder, gives you a gentle peck to get your attention. "He's right. We've only scratched the surface. The boss's palace is where the real magic happens."

You nod, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, let's go!"

As you follow Matthew through the village, you can't help but marvel at the vibrant life around you. The cobblestone streets are lined with shops selling everything from enchanted trinkets to bottles of captured starlight. Dreams and nightmares alike go about their business, some waving at you as you pass by and greeting you like an old friend. Much to your confusion but you smile and wave back.

Finally, you reach the edge of the village and find yourself standing before a grand gate guarded by a Gryphon, a Wyvern, and a Hippogryph. They stand imposingly, their eyes glowing with an ethereal light.

Matthew flutters off your shoulder and lands in front of them. "Hey guys, it's me. Let us through; we have an eager visitor here… again."

The Gryphon nods solemnly and steps aside, allowing the gate to swing open with a creak that echoes through the air.

You step through the gate and into a lush garden filled with flowers that bloom in impossible colors. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers and something else—something unnameable but intoxicating.

"Welcome to the boss's palace," Matthew announces as he takes to the air once more, leading you into the palace with statues that seem almost alive.

The walls are adorned with tapestries that seem to shift and change as you walk past them, depicting scenes from dreams and myths. Chandeliers made of glistening crystals hang from the ceiling, casting a soft, otherworldly light that makes everything look almost magical.

"This here is the Hall of Dreams," Matthew says, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "It's where some of the most significant dreams are kept."

You gaze around in awe, noticing pedestals displaying various objects—an ancient book glowing with a soft blue light, a crystal ball swirling with mist, a golden key that seems to hum with energy. Each item feels alive, as if it holds a story waiting to be told.

"Wow," you whisper, hardly able to tear your eyes away from the wonders around you.

"Yeah, it's pretty neat," Matthew replies nonchalantly, though there's a hint of pride in his voice. "But remember, don't touch anything unless you want the boss himself to appear outta nowhere."

As you're about to ask more questions, you hear a soft cough behind you. Turning around, you see a woman standing there with an air of calm authority.

"Matthew," she says, adjusting her circular glasses. "You are needed in the hall of mortal inventions."

Matthew flaps his wings and lets out what sounds like a resigned sigh. "Duty calls," he mutters before turning to you. "Listen, kid, I gotta go. If you need anything or have more questions, just find one of the palace staff. They'll help you out."

You nod, still absorbing everything around you. "Okay, thanks."

You watch them go for a moment before turning back to the Hall of Dreams. You have so many questions, but no one to answer them. Shrugging to yourself, you continue walking.

You wander through the grand halls of the palace, your footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors. Each turn reveals new wonders—paintings that seem to breathe, corridors lined with statues that watch you with eyes that glint like stars. You feel a magnetic pull, drawing you toward a particular hallway.

As you turn the corner, you see him—a tall, thin man with pearl-white skin and black hair that contrasts starkly against the shimmering background. His blue eyes twinkle with stars, focused on his work as he appears to be redesigning a section of the palace. Walls morph and shift under his gaze, creating intricate patterns that seem to defy logic.

You can't contain your excitement. "Whoa! How are you doing that?" you exclaim, running up to him. "Where does all the matter go? Does it just disappear into thin air? Can you do this anywhere or only here? How do you decide what to change? Do you have to think really hard about it or does it just happen?"

Morpheus turns his star-filled eyes toward you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Calm yourself," he says softly, his voice like the whisper of leaves in a gentle breeze. "One question at a time."

You take a deep breath, trying to focus your thoughts. "Okay, okay. So... how do you change things like that?"

"In the Dreaming," he begins, "matter is not as rigid as it is in your waking world. It bends and flows according to my will."

"But where does it go?" you ask, your eyes wide with wonder.

"It doesn't go anywhere," Morpheus explains. "It transforms, takes on new shapes and forms."

"Wow," you breathe out. "Can anyone do this or just you?"

"Only those who understand the nature of dreams can manipulate them so freely," he says, his gaze returning to the shifting walls.

You watch in awe as intricate patterns continue to unfold before your eyes. "So, do you have to think really hard about what you're changing?"

"It requires focus and intent," Morpheus replies. "But for me, it is as natural as breathing."

You nod eagerly, absorbing every word. "Can I learn to do this? Or is it something you're born with?"

"It is not something one can simply learn," he says thoughtfully. "It is an intrinsic part of the realm."

Your lips pout and you mumble out about the unfairness of such a thing. Then a thought occurs to you, if you are here, there has to be others.

"Are there other dreamers here?" you ask, your curiosity still insatiable.

"Yes," Morpheus replies, his eyes glinting like distant stars. "Many dreamers wander these lands, each experiencing their own unique dreams and nightmares."

"So, they can't see each other?" you continue, your mind buzzing with questions. "Like, are we all in separate bubbles or something?"

"Precisely," Morpheus says. "Each dreamer exists within their own sphere of dreams, rarely intersecting with others unless I will it so."

As you ponder his words, a big question pops into your mind. You hesitate for a moment before blurting it out. "What happens when dreamers have sex in the realm?"

Morpheus' expression remains calm and unperturbed. "Sexual dreams are common among mortals," he begins, his voice as steady as ever. "In the Dreaming, such experiences can feel very real to the dreamer. The sensations and emotions are often heightened, reflecting the nature of dreams themselves."

"Matthew said that the Dreaming has a ruler, the creator or whatever," you say, your brow furrowing. "Does that mean he gets sucked into them as well? Matthew mentioned something about the Dreaming being a part of the boss or whatever…"

Morpheus blinks, the stars in his eyes dimming for a fraction of a second. "Yes," he says simply. Your eyes widen with a mix of curiosity and confusion. Then yet another question pops into your head.

"Wait! Have I had a sex dream!?" You gasp, your eyes round. "What is that even like? I mean if my mind is here what is happening to my physical body? Or it just like a mind fuck? Can you feel the same sensations in your dreams?"

There is a pregnant pause as you think and Morpheus tries to understand where all your endless questions constantly flow from. Your mind and dreams are nearly impossible to navigate. Your curiosity gets the better of you once again, and you find yourself asking yet another question.

"So, if someone has a sex dream in the Dreaming, does that mean the king experiences it too?" You blurt out, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. "I mean you said that he gets sucked into it, but does he like just stand there and watch?"

Morpheus regards you with an expression that's hard to read, his starry eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement. "In a manner of speaking," he says, his voice as smooth as silk. "When dreamers experience such intense emotions and sensations, it resonates within the realm—and, by extension, it's creator and ruler."

"So basically every sex dream outside of masturbation is, by default, at least a threesome," you muse, tapping your lips with your fingers in deep concentration. Morpheus blinks at you in surprise, and then he too thinks about your words. You are technically correct. You stand there, absorbing everything, the wheels in your mind turning with even more questions. But before you can voice any of them, Morpheus's gaze locks onto yours, his star-filled eyes shimmering with a strange intensity.

"Would you like to find out?" he asks, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of something deeper.

You blink at him, your curiosity piqued once again. "Find out what?"

He steps closer, the air around him seeming to pulse with his presence. "What it is like to have an intimate dream involving copulation," he says, each word weighted with meaning.

Morpheus steps up to you, the space between you rippling with an electric tension. His hand reaches out, fingers cool against your skin as he cups your chin. The pads of his fingers are soft, tilting your head back so your eyes meet the endless expanse of his. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, a sensation that feels both foreign and familiar, as if you've been waiting for this moment in the deep recesses of your dreams.

His thumb traces the contour of your lips, a feather light touch that ignites a fire within you. The texture of his skin is like nothing you've ever felt—smooth as silk, yet with an undercurrent of raw power that courses through his veins. You part your lips slightly, tasting the essence of dreams on his flesh, a flavor that defies description, an intoxicating mix of starlight and shadows.

He leans in, his breath a whisper against your mouth as he speaks. "This is but a glimpse of the pleasures that can be found in the realm of dreams," he murmurs, his voice a melody that resonates deep within your body. Specifically, your cunt. Your thighs clench and you resist squeaking. Hot dream guy with a killer voice is asking you if you wanna sleep with him to find out what it is like to have dream sex? The answer is rather obvious despite your addled brain.

"Yes please," you whisper against his touch.

As you breathe out your assent, Morpheus' lips crash against yours in a searing kiss that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. His kiss is all-consuming, a possessive claiming that leaves no doubt about his intentions. His tongue teases the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you yield to him, welcoming the intrusion with a soft moan of surrender.

His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with an artist's touch. Each caress, each stroke of his fingers, ignites a trail of fire across your skin, making you squirm with need. He pulls you closer, your bodies aligning perfectly as he deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate duel that leaves you breathless.

He breaks away only to move to your neck, his lips tracing a path of devastation along your sensitive skin. He sucks and bites at the junction of your neck and shoulder, causing you to whimper with pleasure. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelmingly real, that it sends you spiraling into a world of ecstasy. Each nip, each suckle, sends waves of pleasure straight to your cunt, making you ache with a longing that is both primal and profound.

One of your hands finds itself in his hair, the strands silken against your skin. You tug at the black locks, pulling him closer, as your other hand claws at his back, desperate to feel the contours of his form. Your nails scrape along his scalp, eliciting a low growl of approval from him. The sound vibrates against your neck, adding to the symphony of sensations that threaten to overwhelm you.

Morpheus' hands move to your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as he grinds his hips against yours. You can feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, a tangible reminder of the power he now holds over you in which sudden wicked dream.

Your breath hitches as Morpheus scoops you up into his arms with an ease that shocks you. The world blurs around you, the grandeur of the palace's halls melting away into a backdrop of liquid shadows and starlight. You're barely aware of the transition, your senses too overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

When the world solidifies once more, you find yourself in a bedroom that defies the laws of reality. The walls pulse with a soft, silver glow, and the ceiling is a canvas of twinkling stars that mirror the ones in Morpheus' eyes. A large, canopied bed awaits, its silken sheets shimmering with an iridescence that beckons you closer.

Morpheus sets you down gently, your feet sinking into the plush, velvety carpet. You're about to take in the splendor of your surroundings when his fingers tilt your chin up, capturing your attention once more. The moment your eyes met his once more your heart stutters from the swirling silver blue. The color is always shifting, flickering with stars that take your breath away. Yet another thought flickers into your mind.

"I don't know your name," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You may call me Morpheus," he replies, his voice a velvet caress that makes your body quiver. Morpheus, that fits him.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you towards him as his lips crash against yours once more. The kiss is fierce and demanding, a hungry claiming that leaves you trembling with need. His tongue invades your mouth, exploring and tasting with a fervor that makes your head spin.

You cling to him, your hands roaming over the firm planes of his back, tracing the contours of his muscles through the fabric of his shirt. The texture is unlike anything you've felt before—smooth yet resilient, like the surface of a dream.

One of Morpheus' hands move to the hem of your shirt, his fingers skimming along the sensitive skin of your abdomen. The touch is electric, sending jolts of pleasure straight up your spine. You arch into him, a silent plea for more, and he obliges, his hand slipping beneath the fabric of your clothing to cup your breast through your bra. You moan against the tongue curling with yours and lean into his touch.

Morpheus' lips move against yours with an urgency that takes your breath away. Each stroke of his tongue sends waves of heat coursing through your veins, setting your body alight with a desperate need. His kiss is a fervent claiming, a mingling of lips and breath and desire that leaves you dizzy and wanting. You can taste the stars on his tongue, an explosive taste that spins your mind up into a tizzy until you can only think about him.

His hand on your breast is a brand, his fingers kneading the soft flesh with a skill that leaves you gasping for air. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin exposed by your bra, each caress sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your clit. You can feel the hardened peak of your nipple straining against the fabric, a silent plea for more that he seems all too willing to answer.

The sound of tearing fabric fills the air. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in the sight of you. The cool air of the room kisses your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. His fingers trace the edge of your bra, a soft caress that mirrors the hunger in his gaze.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that curls around your body. His fingers deftly unhook the clasp of your bra, peeling the fabric away to reveal your breasts to his hungry gaze. The cool air hardens your nipples further, and you can't help but arch into his touch as he cups your breast once more.

His thumb circles your nipple, teasing the sensitive bud until you're whimpering with need. "Morpheus," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. He responds by pinching your nipple gently, the slight sting of pain mingling with the overwhelming pleasure to create a sensation that leaves you breathless.

Morpheus' lips recapture yours in a bruising kiss that sends your senses reeling. His tongue delves into the depths of your mouth, exploring with a hunger that leaves you breathless. The taste of him is intoxicating, an intoxicating mix of darkness and light that makes your head spin and your heart race. His kiss is a storm, wild and untamed, and you surrender yourself to its fury, kissing him back with a fervor that matches his own.

His hand continues its assault on your breast, fingers tweaking and rolling your nipple until it's a hard peak of arousal. The sensation is exquisite, a delicate balance of pleasure and pain that sends jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your body arching into his touch as you seek more of the delicious torment.

His fingers skim down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before dipping lower to the waistband of your pants. You twitch against him, your body a taut bowstring beneath his touch. His spindle-like fingers trace the curve of your pelvis bone with an artist's precision, each stroke of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure through you. It is nearly unbearable, the sensations he elicits from your body, a symphony of desire that threatens to overwhelm your senses. Your breath hitches in your throat, a breath that Morpheus gladly drinks from your lips, as you surrender to the exquisite torment, your hips canting forward in a silent plea for more.

Morpheus breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck as he trails a path of fire along your jawline. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, nipping and sucking as he marks you as his own. You moan and tilt your head back, granting him better access as you revel in the sensation of his mouth on your flesh.

"Morpheus," you gasp, your voice a mere whisper in the twinkling silence of his room. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia.

Your breath catches yet again as Morpheus' fingers dance along the waistband of your trousers, his touch a whisper against your skin. His starry eyes lock onto yours, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. "Let me show you the wonders of dreams," he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress that brushes your skin with reverence.

Morpheus' starry gaze never even wavers from yours as his nimble fingers work at the clasp of your trousers, each movement a tantalizing dance. His touch is gentle as he guides the fabric down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your underwear—a flimsy barrier that seems to taunt the anticipation building between you two.

Your breath hitches as the cool air of the Dreaming kisses your newly bared skin. The vulnerability of the moment is intoxicating, getting naked in your own dream. He continues takes his time, his fingers skimming your thighs, the back of your knees, the curve of your calves, until you stand before Morpheus, practically trembling with need and curiosity.

Trickles of embarrassment try to worm their way through your veins, a flush of heat crawling up your neck. Morpheus' sees your embarrassment before you have the chance to physically express it yourself.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, the word a soft whisper that seems to echo through the vastness of the room. Well, your embarrassment most definitely grew, but not because you were naked, but because of the look in his eyes. His eyes rake over you, their silvery glow shimmering with stars. The desire in his gaze is palpable, a tangible force that wraps around you, drawing you closer to him. You can feel his physical desire for you.

He reaches out, his fingers tracing your lips to appreciate them, before drawing down a path of tingles that delights your senses. His touch seems to know exactly where all your most sensitive places on your body are. They glide over your shoulders, down the slope of your chest, tracing the contours of your breasts. You shiver under his touch, your nipples hardening even more, if that's possible, under his gaze.

Morpheus' fingers dance lower, skimming over your abdomen, causing your muscles to twitch and contract beneath his touch. Then he sinks to his knees before you, his softly glowing eyes never leaving yours. The sight of him kneeling at your feet is almost too much to bear. How did you have someone so beautiful kneeling before you? His hands settle on your hips, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumbs stroke the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your underwear, the last piece of clothing separating you from complete exposure.

Morpheus leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your stomach. His lips are cool and soft, a stark contrast to the growing inferno between your legs. He places another kiss, lower this time, just below your navel. You can't help but let out a soft whimper, your hands instinctively reaching out to tangle in his dark hair. Soft and silky. With agonizing slowness, Morpheus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. "May I?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, your breath hitching in anticipation. He smiles, a small, knowing smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. With deliberate care, he begins to slide your underwear down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin as he goes. The cool air of the Dreaming brushes against your exposed flesh, and you shiver. Morpheus' eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, completely bared to him.

Morpheus eyes are now glued to your body, and places a delicate kiss on your inner thigh. The touch of his lips sends a jolt of electricity straight to your cunt, causing you to gasp softly. His fingers dig gently into your hips, holding you steady as he begins his slow ascent towards your aching flesh.

His lips trail a path of fire along your skin, each kiss a promise of the pleasure to come. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your sensitive flesh, a tantalizing preview of what's to follow. He nuzzles the junction between your leg and folds, his nose brushing against your mound in a gentle caress that makes you shiver with anticipation. His tongue darts out and swipes at your flesh, making your hips jerk in his grasp while you whine in the back of your throat.

Morpheus looks up at you, his starry eyes filled with a hunger that takes your breath away. "You are exquisite," he murmurs, his voice a low growl that reverberates through your very being. "It is an honor to have the privilege of adoring your body." His words, combined with the adoration in his gaze, send a flush of heat coursing through your veins. You can feel your desire for him dripping between your legs, a slickness that begs for his attention.

With a reverence that borders on worship, Morpheus finally lowers his mouth to your cunt. His tongue darts out, tracing the length of your slit with a feather light touch that makes you whimper with need. He teases you, his tongue flicking over your clit before retreating along your inner folds, a maddening dance that leaves you trembling with frustration.

"Morpheus, please," you beg, your voice a desperate plea in the silence of the room. He responds with a low chuckle, the vibrations from his throat sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

"Patience, my dear," he chides gently, his breath ghosting over your wet folds. "Good things come to those who wait."

His words are a promise, a vow that he intends to make good on. He better. He delves into you with renewed vigor, his tongue delving into your cunt with long, languid strokes. He laps at you, tasting your arousal with a fervor that leaves you gasping for air and clawing at his scalp. His hands slide up your thighs, his fingers spreading your lips open to grant him better access to your most intimate places.

Morpheus' tongue circles your clit, each stroke sending waves of pleasure continually running down your thighs. You can feel the tension building within you, a coil of desire that threatens to snap at any moment. His fingers join in the exploration, slipping inside you with an ease that speaks of your desire. You can't help but squeal, tugging harshly on the strands of black, silky hair within your grasp.Pleased by your reaction, Morpheus curls his fingers forward, pressing against that secret spot within you that sends your senses reeling.

"Oh, god,” you moan, your hands fisting in his hair as you grind your hips against his face.

"I am no god," Morpheus growls, the sound vibrating against your clit and sending you spiraling towards the edge. You whine as your head drops back and you squirm against his mouth.

Your breath comes in short, desperate pants, the sound echoing in the room. His tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, each flick and swirl sending you spiraling closer to the edge of ecstasy. His fingers pump in and out of your cunt, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room and mingling with your soft whimpers and moans.

"Morpheus," you whine, your voice a mere whisper in the twinkling silence of his realm. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia.

In response, he increases the pace of his ministrations, his tongue circling your clit with fierce determination. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that sensitive spot that makes your feet rise off the cool, marble floor. The sensation is almost too much to bear, a delicious torment that threatens to consume you entirely.

Your legs begin to tremble, the muscles quivering with the effort of holding you upright. You can feel the tension coiling within you, a tight spring that threatens to snap at any moment. You want it to! Morpheus senses your impending release, his fingers and tongue working in perfect harmony to push you over the edge.

With a final, desperate cry, you fall apart. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, the force of it making your legs give out beneath you. Stars explode behind your eyelids as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins, leaving you boneless and gasping for air.

Morpheus is there to catch you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he rises to his feet. Your body melts against his, your arms dangling over his shoulders, trembling from the force of your release. He cradles you against his chest, his touch gentle and soothing as he carries you across the room.

Morpheus gently places you on the bed, your body sinking into the plush, velvet covers. You look up at him with a dazed expression, your eyes still glazed over with the aftershocks of your orgasm. He hovers over you, his starry eyes filled with a hunger that seems to have grown rather than abated.

He cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin in a soothing rhythm. He leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that is both a claiming and a promise. His lips move against yours with a quiet urgency, coaxing your lips to part and grant him entry. You open for him, your lips parting with a soft moan as his tongue delves into the depths of your mouth.

You can taste yourself on his tongue, a taste that is both foreign and achingly familiar. It is a mingling of sweetness and heat, a flavor that is uniquely yours. The knowledge that he finds your taste as intoxicating as you find his sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your veins.

"Morpheus," you breathe against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. He responds with a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your own. His body shifts, his knees nudging your legs apart as he settles between your thighs.

As he kisses you, you become aware of a strange sensation. His clothes, which had seemed so form-fitting and solid only moments before, begin to disintegrate beneath your touch. The fabric turns to sand, swirling around him in a vortex of shadows before dissipating into nothingness. You pull away from the kiss, your eyes wide with wonder as you watch the transformation.

"That is so amazing," you whispered, your fingers reaching up to touch his bare chest. Morpheus gazes down at you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of this lips.

"That is only one aspect of the nature of my abilities" he murmurs, his voice a deep, seductive whisper that makes you moan. Certainly when his lips brush along the pulse of your neck. His body, now completely bare, is a sight to behold. He is all lean muscle and smooth, pale skin, a living embodiment of beauty and power.

You reach out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen. His muscles contract beneath your touch, a silent testament to his desire for you. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors the feeling of your hands on his body.

"You are so beautiful," you say, your voice filled with awe and raw desire. Morpheus opens his eyes, the stars within their depths shimmering with raw emotion.

"And you, my beloved dreamer, are the most captivating creature I have ever laid eyes on," he replies, his voice husky with desire. He leans down to kiss you once more, his body pressing against yours as he claims your lips in a passionate, all-consuming kiss. When you feel something hard, smoothing, throbbing, you nearly whine and buck your hips the moment your brain realizes it's his cock. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer as you kiss him with a fervor that leaves you eagerly breathless. The feeling of his skin against yours is intoxicating, a sensation that ignites a fire within you.

Morpheus reaches between your legs, his fingers stroking your slick folds until you are writhing for his touch. You moan into his mouth, your hips arching off the bed as you seek more of his touch. He teases you, his fingers circling your clit before dipping lower to stroke your entrance. Your body now feels like it is on fire.

As the heat between you two grows, you can't help but beg. "Morpheus, please, I need you inside me," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation. His fingers continue their relentless teasing, circling your clit before dipping back down to your entrance.

"Patience, little one," he chides gently, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through your body. "Good things come to those who wait."

"I can't wait any longer," you moan, your hips bucking against his hand in a silent plea for more. Morpheus chuckles softly, the sound a delicious torture against your sensitive skin.

"As you wish," he murmurs, his starry eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. He positions himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock pressing against your slick folds. You hold your breath, your entire body tensing in anticipation of the moment he'll finally fill you.

But Morpheus doesn't just thrust into you. Instead, he enters you with a slow, deliberate precision that makes your head spin. You feel every bit of him as he slides into your tight, wet heat, his girth stretching you in the most exquisite way. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for air.

Morpheus stills once he's fully sheathed within you, allowing you a moment to adjust to the feel of him inside you. His forehead rests against yours, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps that mirror your own. You clench his cock in the most painfully exquisite way.

"You feel incredible," he whispers, his voice filled with awe and raw emotion. You respond by wrapping your other leg around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside you. A low growl rumbles in his chest, the sound vibrating through your body.

Morpheus begins to move, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward in a slow, languid rhythm. Each stroke is a study in controlled passion, his body worshiping yours thoroughly. His hands roam your body, tracing the contours of your curves with a reverence that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The feel of Morpheus inside you only grows more exquisite, each thrust a delicious friction that sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. You cling to him, your fingers digging into the firm muscles of his back as you writhe beneath him. His skin is cool and smooth under your touch, a stark contrast to the heat that radiates from your joined bodies.

He moves with a deliberate grace, his hips rocking against yours in a rhythm that matches each ebb of pleasure. With each thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delightful way. You can feel the head of his cock brushing against that secret spot within you, a sensation that makes your toes curl and your breath catch in your throat.

Your body responds to his with an eagerness that leaves you breathless. You meet each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room, a symphony of wet, slapping sounds.

"Morpheus," you gasp, your voice a mere whisper in the silence of his realm. His name is a plea, a prayer, falling from your lips like sweet ambrosia. He responds with a low growl, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your own. His pace increases, his hips slamming into yours with an urgency that sends you spiraling towards the edge once more.

Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, your heels digging into the firm muscles of his ass. You can feel the tension coiling within you, a tight spring that threatens to snap at any moment. Your fingers claw at his back, the motion leaving thin, red lines across his pale skin. A kiss of pain Morpheus finds he enjoys.

"Let go," Morpheus whispers in your ear, his voice raw with desire. "Give in to my passion."

His words are all the encouragement you need. With a loud cry, you finally reach your climax, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, each one more intense than the last. Morpheus' name falls from your lips like a mantra, a prayer to the god who has brought you to this exquisite peak.

Morpheus' mouth drops to your throat and he runs his teeth along your tender flesh. His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, his entire body tensing as he thrusts deep within you one final time. His cock buried deep within your body, you moan and whine as liquid pleasure fills you. You can feel his seed spilling into every part of your womb, a hot, wet rush that makes your thighs shake against him and your toes curl into the soft, velvet covers of his bed.

You gasp for oxygen, feeling like you are no longer in control of your body. Then his pelvis grinds against yours, his cock twitching with each spasm of pleasure that wracks his body. Shards of pleasure ricochet up your spine and spots bloom in your vision. Softly glowing silver eyes are the last thing you see before slipping into a deeper sleep.

You bolt upright in bed, the remnants of your dream still clinging to your skin like a lover's caress. The room is bathed in the soft glow of dawn, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting long shadows across the floor. Your heart pounds in your chest, the echo of your rapid pulse reverberating in your ears as you try to catch your breath.

The sheets are a tangled mess around your waist, the fabric twisted and damp from the heat of your body. You can still feel the ghostly sensation of strong arms wrapped around you, the phantom touch of calloused hands skimming over your bare skin. The warmth of his seed filling your body. The memory of his voice, low and husky with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

"So that's what it's like to have a sex dream," you murmur to yourself, the words little more than a whisper in the stillness of your room. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, your cheeks flushed with the remnants of your dream-induced arousal. "Dude was brutally passionate and hot..."

You flop back onto the pillows, your mind replaying the vivid images from your dream. The way his eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, the feel of his body moving against yours in a dance as old as time. It had been so real, so intense, that you could almost believe it had actually happened.

Your hand drifts down to the hem of your shirt, your fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of your stomach. A small gasp escapes your lips as you recall the way he had touched you, his fingers exploring your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. You can't help but wonder if anyone in the waking world could ever match the raw, unbridled passion of your dream lover.

The room around you slowly comes into focus, the hazy edges of your dream giving way to reality. You take a deep breath, the scent of your own arousal still lingering in the air. It's a potent reminder of the pleasure you had experienced in the dream realm, a pleasure that had been so vivid, so all-consuming, that it had left you breathless. How can you still feel such sensations when it had been a dream?

As you lie there, the events of your dream still fresh in your mind, you can't help but feel a sense of longing. The dream had been a fleeting escape from the mundane reality of your everyday life, a glimpse into a world where desire and passion reigned supreme. But now, as the morning light continues to spill into your room, you're left with the nagging question of whether you'll ever experience anything as intense in your waking life.

You close your eyes, allowing yourself one last moment of indulgence before the demands of the day pull you from the comfort of your bed. The memory of your dream lover's voice echoes in your mind, a soft whisper that sends a final shiver down your spine.

"Morpheus," you sigh, the sound little more than a breath of air. It seems almost cruel that such a being could exist in your dreams, yet remain just out of reach in the waking world. But for now, you're content to bask in the afterglow of your nocturnal encounter, the memory of his touch a sweet balm to the solitude of your morning.

With a reluctant sigh, you push back the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. The cool air of your room brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of your dreams. As you rise to your feet, you can't help but glance back at the rumpled sheets, a small smile playing on your lips as you remember the passion that had unfolded in the realm of sleep.

You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you make your way to the bathroom. "Only in my dreams," you murmur, the words a wistful acknowledgment of the fantasy that had felt so real. But as you step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of sleep, you can't help but hold onto the hope that you'll see him again tonight.

You walk through the winding corridors of Dream's Palace, the walls shifting with each step, alive with the whispers of a thousand dreams. Beside you, a subject of the palace chatters away, their words a cascade of information that you're trying to absorb.

"So, the Dreaming can change form at will?" you ask, glancing at the flickering shadows on the walls.

"Exactly," they respond, nodding eagerly. "It's all a reflection of our lord's mood and intentions. Every corner, every room, every plant can transform depending on his desires."

You marvel at this revelation, your mind racing with questions. "And what about the denizens? Are they all like... people who fell asleep and never woke up?"

The subject shakes their head. "Not quite. Some are created by Dream himself. Others are born from the collective subconscious of humanity."

As you walk, the palace seems to breathe around you, its structure fluid and ever-changing. You turn a corner and see the grand entrance to the library ahead. The towering doors are carved with intricate patterns that seem to shift and change as you approach.

"And Lucienne," you ask, "what's her role here again?"

The subject smiles. "Lucienne is the chief librarian and guardian of all knowledge in the Dreaming. She keeps everything in order."

You push open the heavy doors to the library, stepping into a vast hall lined with endless rows of bookshelves that stretch up into infinity. The scent of old parchment and ink fills your nostrils.

In the center of the room stands Lucienne, her circular glasses perched on her nose as she sorts through a stack of ancient tomes. Perched nearby on a reading desk is Matthew, his dark feathers gleaming under the soft glow of lantern light.

"Oh, hi Matthew!" you call out cheerfully.

The raven's reaction is immediate and frantic. He startles, wings flapping rapidly, knocking over a few papers on the desk. His eyes are wide, and he screeches, "You remember!?"

You blink at him, confusion knitting your brows. "Uh, yes? Was I not supposed to?"

Matthew face palms with a wing, feathers rustling. "Oh, for crying out loud," he mutters to himself, voice filled with exasperation. "Of all the things to remember..."

You look at Lucienne, hoping for some clarity. She glances up from her stack of books, her expression calm and composed despite Matthew's antics.

"Lucienne," you begin, trying to divert the conversation to something less confusing, "what are your favorite books in the library?"

She adjusts her glasses thoughtfully. "There are so many to choose from," she says. "But if I had to pick, I would say I have a fondness for the ancient texts from lost civilizations. They hold so much history and mystery."

"Really?" You lean in closer, intrigued. "Any specific titles come to mind?"

Lucienne's eyes light up with enthusiasm. "One of my favorites is the 'Codex of Lumeria.' It's a beautifully illustrated manuscript from a civilization that vanished millennia ago."

You nod, absorbing her words. The library feels even more magical with each story she shares.

Matthew hops back onto his perch, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbles under his breath. "Books and mysteries... great distractions."

Lucienne gives him a knowing look but continues. "There's also 'The Chronicles of Faerie,' which details the history of various faerie courts across dimensions."

"Wow," you breathe out. The idea of such knowledge being within reach excites you. As Lucienne speaks, you notice Matthew seems calmer now, albeit still muttering to himself occasionally. Something about memory problems?

"Maybe you'll get a chance to read them someday," Lucienne adds with a gentle smile.

"That would be amazing," you reply with a glowing grin. You're about to ask Lucienne if you could take a peek at the 'Codex of Lumeria' when the air in the library shifts, becoming thicker. You feel a shiver run up your spine, making you quiver, shortly before he appears.

The moment you take in Morpheus striding confidently over to your little group, you have immediately flashbacks in your mind of the prior night. A night you spent beneath him. Heat crawls up your neck.

Lucienne, ever the attentive librarian, straightens up and pushes her glasses back up her nose. "Oh, do you require a book, my lord?" she inquires, her voice a perfect blend of respect and curiosity.

Morpheus spares her the briefest of glances before his gaze returns to you, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not quite, Lucienne," he says, his voice a low, melodious hum that seems to resonate with the very walls of the library. Lucienne looks between her lord and you.

"Have you met Y/N, yet? They are a nightly visitor to our great halls," Lucienne explains before peering at your over her spectacles. "Y/N, this is Dream of the Endless, or Lord Morpheus as he is better known within our realm."

Holy fuck. You had literally asked the king of the dreaming what it was like to have sex in his realm. Then he proceeded to humor you with mind blowing dream sex.

You are never going to live this down.

The heat crawling up your neck now sears your cheeks as Matthew, now perched atop one of the towering bookshelves, cocks his head to the side, his beady eyes filled with curiosity. "Hold on, you two know each other?" he squawks, feathers ruffling in agitation. They way his boss and you were looking at each other made it painfully clear that you had met before… but didn't you always forget about the dreaming upon waking up?

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat as you struggle to find the right way to explain the unexplainable. You clear your throat and chew on your lip. Morpheus, however, seems to find amusement in your discomfort, his smirk widening.

"Indeed, we do," he says, the amusement evident in his tone. "I've had the pleasure of assisting this one with some... research the night prior." His eyes gleam with mischief before they dip down to your, thankfully, still covered body.

Your cheeks burn as you struggle to maintain eye contact with Morpheus. His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. Oh yes, he certainly helped you out with some research the prior night… Lucienne's eyebrows raise slightly, but she remains silent, ever the professional.

Matthew caws from his perch, his beady eyes narrowing. "Research, huh? Sounds... thorough."

"It was very informative!" You announce, trying to quell the heat in your cheeks. Morpheus' eyebrow raises and the stars in his eyes twinkle. He seems to savor your discomfort, as if it is a fine wine meant to be enjoyed sip by sip.

"I see you are still intrigued by the Dreaming," he says, his voice as smooth and dark as velvet. "Perhaps you would like some further assistance with your... research?"

Your pulse quickens. The memory of last night's dream flashes in your mind again, and you feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement. You can swear your cunt clenched on his last word.

Morpheus extends his hand towards you, the movement both elegant and commanding. "Take my hand," he offers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. "I shall show you more of what this realm has to offer."

You glance at Lucienne and Matthew, who are both watching the exchange with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion. But their presence fades into the background as Morpheus' eyes draw you in.

Without thinking, you reach out and place your hand in his. His touch is cool, yet it sends a jolt of warmth through your entire body.

"Good," Morpheus murmurs, his grip firm but gentle. "Come with me."

He leads you away from the library, through corridors that seem to shift and change with every step. The walls ripple like water, and doors appear and disappear as if by magic. You barely have time to take in the ever-changing scenery before he suddenly spins you around, pressing your back against a cool, solid surface.

His lips find yours in a fierce, passionate kiss that steals your breath away. You're caught off guard, but you can't deny the allure of the him, and you eagerly respond. His arms encircle you, pulling you closer as his kiss deepens. His tongue tangles with yours, once again indulging in your sweet taste but with such ferocity you whimper.

Morpheus devours that sound right up, lips tugging and pulling against yours until your mind is spinning. Then he pulls away, leaving you breathless. His eyes, twin stars, pierce through the dimness. He traces a thumb over your quivering bottom lip, the gesture both tender and possessive.

"Your curiosity about the Dreaming," he begins, eyes glowing soft silver. His forehead drops against yours and he raises his hand to your chin, his thumb pressing against your lower lip. "Is endless."

"Should I apologize?" you question breathlessly, already yearning for more.

Morpheus' eyes narrow slightly, and he lets out a low chuckle that reverberates through the space between you. "Absolutely not," he replies, his voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. "Curiosity is to be encouraged, not stifled."

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours once more. The kiss is more urgent this time, as if he's trying to convey something words can't express. You melt into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his coat as if holding on for dear life.

You gasp as Morpheus deepens the kiss, his hands wandering, exploring the curve of your waist. The world around you seems to ripple, the walls and floor shifting with your shared desire. Your mind spins with the intensity of the moment, each touch igniting a fire within you that you didn't know existed.

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping your lips. His touch is both demanding and tender, a paradox that leaves you breathless and yearning for more.

"Morpheus," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above your skin. His eyes meet yours, filled with a mix of longing and determination. "Yes?"

"I want to see more of the Dreaming," you manage to say between ragged breaths. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Only after I have my fill of you, my dreamer,” he replies, his eyes glowing with possession.

You nod, breathless, unable to tear your eyes away from Morpheus. The desire in his gaze makes your heart race, and you feel a warmth spread through you as he leans in closer. His lips find yours again, and the world around you melts away into nothingness.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you through the shifting corridors. Your hands grip his shoulders as he navigates the halls of the palace with ease. You barely register the doors and arches that pass by, your mind consumed by the feeling of his touch.

Finally, he stops before a set of ornate double doors. With a wave of his hand, they swing open to reveal a grand chamber bathed in soft, golden light. The room is opulent, with high ceilings adorned with intricate frescoes and a massive bed draped in luxurious fabrics.

Morpheus carries you inside and gently sets you down on the bed. His fingers brush against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "This," he says softly, "is where I will show you the true extent of what the Dreaming has to offer."

You can only nod in response, your breath coming in short gasps as anticipation grows within you. He removes his coat, revealing the sculpted lines of his body beneath. The sight leaves you entranced.

He climbs onto the bed beside you, his movements fluid and graceful. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring every curve with deliberate slowness. Each touch sends sparks of electricity through your body, making you arch into him.

His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slow and sensual. His tongue teases yours, drawing out soft moans that fill the room. You lose yourself in the sensation, forgetting everything except the feel of him against you.

Morpheus' hands roam lower, slipping beneath your clothing with practiced ease. You shiver at the cool touch of his fingers against your skin, feeling an ache build deep within you.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with reverence. The sincerity in his words makes your heart swell.

Your hands find their way to his chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle beneath his skin. He groans softly at your touch, his eyes darkening with desire.

As he continues to undress you slowly, every piece of clothing removed feels like shedding a layer of reality itself. The room around you seems to shift in response to your rising passion—the frescoes on the ceiling coming alive with scenes from dreams past.

When you're finally bare before him, Morpheus pauses to drink in the sight of you. His eyes glow like twin stars in the dim light as he lowers himself over you once more.

The world outside fades away completely as Morpheus begins to make love to you with a tenderness that leaves no doubt of his deep connection to every dream and desire you've ever had.

In that moment—between gasps for air and whispered names—you understand why people revere him so deeply within this realm: because Dream doesn't just rule over dreams; he embodies yours entirely. And damn if you are going to forget him anytime soon!

Date Published: 2/10/25

Last Edit: 2/10/25

Morpheus Masterlist

12 Days of Smutmas 2024 Masterlist

#dream of the endless #the sandman netflix #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #lord morpheus #dream the endless x reader #the sandman #morpheus #dream the endless

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aihoshiino · 8 months ago

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Rie Takahashi Interview (Oshi no Ko Anime Guidebook: First Report)

In the recently released First Report guidebook, a number of key staff members from the Oshi no Ko anime project were interviewed about their work on the show - so you can imagine my excitement when I saw that not only was Takahashi one of those interviewed, but that she had a lot to say about her performance as Ai and how she interpreted her character. I just had to translate it!

I will say up front that I have no intention of translating the other interviews in the book - this one took me long enough as it was and I fully admit it was pure blorbo bias that kept me going the whole time lol. Given that an English release of Glare x Sparkle is already in the works at YenPress, I imagine an English version of First Report might not be far behind so be sure to support it when it comes out. I'm just impatient lol.

As usual, this TL is a combo of my own comprehension, various online dictionaries such as Jisho.org, some MTL and me collapsing, weeping into smarter people's DMs to beg for their help. If you catch any mistakes, please let me know!

Anyway, enough rambling. Check out the interview behind the cut!

Please tell us about your favourite scene and line from episode 1.

Since Ai only appears in the first episode, I really wanted to make every moment count, so each and every one of her lines are special in their own way. It's hard to choose just one, but as a fan of the original work, the line "lies are an exceptional form of love" was one I was especially particular about. Since it's the line that truly encapsulates everything about Ai, I wanted to make sure that one stuck in people's minds.

You've said in the past you were an 'Oshi no Ko' fan even before being involved in the project.

While I was reading the original work, I actually admired Akane-chan the most. Obviously, I loved Ai as well, but being a voice actress myself, I was particularly interested in how a genius actress like Akane-chan prepared for her roles and what performances she'd go on to give. The chapters where she rises above all the online harassment especially left a huge impression on me. Anyone who's worked as a creative or even just in the public eye probably knows what a pulse-pounding experience it can be when you see slanderous comments about yourself - feeling like all of society has turned its back on you and you have nowhere to belong, and not being able to talk to your parents about it. It was depicted with such care and detail that I ached with her as I read it. But then, seeing her rise back up and declare "I don't want to quit like this" gave me a lot of strength. I wanted to become an actress like Akane-chan, who could come back to acting no matter what struggles I went through.

Since I loved Akane-chan so much, when I heard there were auditions for 'Oshi no Ko', I thought "I want to play her!". I even had the thought of 'Since the original work touches so deeply on what it means to be an actor, if they don't get a good actor for this, I might end up hating Oshi no Ko!' (laughs)

As a result, when I was cast as Ai, I knew I had to step up my game. I told myself, "If I'm going to play Ai, I need to give it my everything. Anything less won't do." I gave it my all with that in mind.

Did you audition for the role of Ai?

Yes, I did. But I couldn't get Akane-chan out of my mind, so I gave her a shot at the table audition. When I was preparing, I went over the manga at home and tried voicing each character and scene and there's a part in episode seven where Akane-chan mimicks Ai as she says "I sure am sleepy. We record way too early". When I tried that scene, I went "Hold on, maybe I really am the best fit for Ai?"

I guess my hunch was right because I didn't even make it through the first screening for Akane (laughs). Because of that experience, I'm deeply grateful to (Iwami) Manaka-chan for playing my beloved Akane-chan. I love both her work and her approach as an actress, so I'm thrilled to be working alongside her. I started off as a troublesome hardcore fan thinking "If they don't cast good actors for 'Oshi no Ko,' I might end up hating it!" but now I'm just like "thank you, voice actors!!" (laughs)

Were there any scenes you thought would be particularly difficult to perform based on the script or the original work?

So, I prepared for the role by going over volume 1 of the manga, the scenes where Akane-chan channels Ai and the short story, but there wasn't much more material at the time (laughs). So just preparing for the role was tough. During recording, I sometimes checked in with (Akasaka) Aka-sensei about Ai. Now the story has progressed and Ai's character has become more defined, I secretly get a little nervous every time I read a new chapter. "I hope my performance in episode 1 wasn't off... I hope...!" (laughs) Obviously, Aka-sensei and the team were present during recordings, so my portrayal was probably fine but a revelation about her could still catch me out (laughs)

What sort of things did you hear from Akasaka-sensei?

There's a scene where Ai talks to her ex on a public payphone. I had to make sure there was the right amount of distance between them, and whether or not Ai still had any attachment to or fondness for him. I'm the sort of fan who enjoys analyzing the original work so I had mixed feelings about getting told the answer (laughs). But because I knew all the ins and outs of her backstory, I could contextualize her behaviour and the things she says and does.

Another scene was when Ai was scouted off the street and talked about her past, mentioning being abused by her mom. She wasn't saying it with the sense of "it hurts, I can't take it, I want to die" but instead she weaponizes it like "look at what I've been through, poor little me, right?". I tried to make my performance a balance of resilience with her vulnerability.

Also, I was directed to keep the monologue before Ai gets stabbed "emotionless", so I ended up giving a much more detached and matter of fact performance than I'd initially planned.

Were you mindful of the differences between Ai in her private life and Ai on stage when performing?

The tricky part of portraying Idol Ai is that if I make her too distinct, she'll stop being Ai. For example, if I play her as an innocent, optimistic idol, she'd be Ruby, not Ai. I focused less on "what to do as Ai" and more on "what not to do". In "Viewpoint B," Ai says, "The "idol" Ai is pretty much the complete opposite of who I really am, but she's the person I'd like to be." so that was the feeling I used as my reference when portraying Idol Ai. Incidentally, in my work as a performer, I purposely try to avoid drawing a line between my public and private self. So for Ai as well, the switches between the real Ai and the idol Ai feel surprisingly seamless to me. It's not that there are two distinct faces, but that Idol Ai exists inside the real Ai so it's more a question of which side of herself she shows at any given moment.

Ai’s fans in the original story only know the Idol Ai. What do you think draws them to her?

Like in the lyrics of YOASOBI's song "Idol," she's nonchalant, carefree, and easygoing. I could've portrayed Idol Ai as more cutesy, bubbly and flirtatious, but I felt that wouldn't have a convincing appeal to characters in the story like Gorou-sensei and the otaku who support her. I wanted to make sure it was believable that idol otakus in this world end up falling for her. I think it's her more laid back vibe, not the hyper energetic or "look at me!" type, that charms people.

So what would you say is the appeal to fans in the real world who know her full backstory?

Firstly, Ai-chan's overwhelming visual appeal. When you think of shocking pink and purple, you think of Ai! (Yokoyari) Mengo-sensei’s art is so powerful, and the glittering animation is also fantastic. I also find Ai's professionalism in her work really appealing. While she has the cuteness of an idol, she's not just cute—she works with an incredible level of dedication and professionalism. I admire and love her for everything, including her behind-the-scenes efforts. It's impressive, she’s really cool!

I’ve ended up with a lot more respect for the word ‘idol’ as a result. In the past, when my voice acting involved singing, dancing, and participating in unit activities, being described as an "idol voice actress" didn't quite sit right with me. But now, I realize how honorable and responsible that title is. Idols work hard behind the scenes, constantly smiling while singing and dancing, and performing so brilliantly. If there are moments when I'm called by the same title as those incredible idols, I feel I need to make an effort to match their quality, or it would be disrespectful. It really motivates me to do my best.

There’s a line in Ai's monologue where she says "I wanted to love someone, I wanted someone to love." Why do you think Ai wanted to give love rather than receive it?

It could be that she's looking for somewhere to belong, hoping that "if I can love, I might be loved in return". Ai's history of abuse and mistreatment likely made the love she received feel very different from the love most people experience. I think it all stems from Ai thinking of herself as an abnormal person - she might have believed that to be loved, she needed to become someone who could genuinely love others. It’s a bit of a chicken and egg situation with a lot of complex feelings. That’s just how I interpret it, though.

And in the end, she realizes her love for the twins is not a lie.

I think that Ai loved the twins all along, not just in that last moment. But the word “love” was like a curse for her, so she couldn't actually say it. That feeling only intensified after I watched the anime. There's an anime original bit where Ai kisses the twins on the foreheads and says, “I'm off,” when she leaves for work. That's the kind of thing you can only do with love - she was just too scared to actually put it into words. Though she was able to express her love fully in her final moments, it’s still sad it took such an extremely situation for her to be able to say it. If it’d never happened, or if she’d simply put the door chain on, she might never have said it. She might have always struggled to say those words. But it’s thanks to the twins she learned how to love. Even the love she has for her fans, that she derided as a lie, was always true. And when she told Ryosuke-kun, “I want to love you,” I think she was already loving him even then.

In the audio commentary included on the Blu-ray & DVD bonus disc, I was struck by the mention of Ai being so nervous before she says “I love you” to Ruby and Aqua, that she takes a deep breath. What sort of direction were you given for that line?

There wasn’t any direction, actually. During the recording, my focus was entirely on expressing Ai’s breathing after being stabbed, how much blood she was losing, and the urgency of conveying her final words. It was an intense experience. It’s a rare moment as a voice actor to feel like me and the character I'm playing have our hearts beating in sync, but this was one of those times. I think I was genuinely nervous myself as well. I could feel my heart pounding and my chest clenching like when you’re about to make a confession. That feeling still hasn’t left me.

Additionally, in the last monologue of episode 11, where Aqua reflects on Ai's words after she was stabbed, we couldn't use the original recording from the first episode. The recording from the first episode captured a raw and genuine emotion, as Ai was gasping for breath. So we re-recorded it with the intention that the more it resonated warmly within Aqua, the more unforgettable those words would become for him. I wanted to make sure that Ai’s final words would leave a lasting impact, something Aqua would revisit in his mind over and over again. Personally, I approached the recording with a deep sense of love, like passing the baton and saying, “Thank you, everyone, for your hard work in the first season.” There was a lot of warmth during that session, not just towards the twins, but towards the entire cast, staff, and the "Oshi no Ko" project itself.

What were your thoughts upon reading 45510?

I got to the end and I was like “Don’t delete the blog! I want to know more!” (laughs) The entire story felt like a box that really shouldn't be opened. Everything from the meaning behind the password numbers to the fact that Ai left behind a blog wanting to reconcile made it feel like Ai really, truly wanted to love the other girls in B-Komachi even when they were jealous of her.

In the anime, we only get a brief moment of interaction between Ai and the other members - that moment during dance practice, when one of them says, "You look kinda down, Ai-chan" and Ai replies with a smile, "That’s not it. I didn’t get to eat lunch!" So I was careful that Ai’s response didn't feel sour at all. If the sigh she let out before they spoke to her had even a hint of annoyance, it would’ve been a reason the other girls took offense with her. I felt like Ai’s invincibility should’ve been the main factor for their issues with her.

It’s just a brief interaction in the anime, but ‘45510’ really fleshed out that distance between Ai and the B-Komachi members. I based my understanding of these boundaries in her relationships on ‘45510’ and ‘Viewpoint B’ and I also read ‘Oshi no Ko: Spica, the First Star’ to get a fuller picture. The more I read, the more I understood - Kana Arima’s got the right idea!

YOASOBI’s song ‘IDOL’ closes out episode one.

The music itself was impactful, but the music video that was released after the first episode aired was something else altogether. We watched the first episode together with the cast, and then, after seeing the music video, I felt overcome by Ai’s presence all over again - I was left speechless by how powerful the experience was. "Oshi no Ko" really is an immersive experience. I mean, you willingly open YouTube and relive Ai's death yourself. Even after everything was conveyed in the main story, the music video introduced new layers of emotions and concepts. Seeing how YOASOBI's song "Idol," which was about Ai, resonated with so many people really made me realize all over again just how significant Ai's impact was!

And then you yourself sang IDOL at the Strawberry Productions☆Fan Thanksgiving Festival 2023 (FanFest).

For me, "Idol" is a challenging song to sing even at karaoke. So, when they asked me to sing it at the FanFest my initial reaction was, "Oh, that might be too much!" (laughs). It’s not a song that you can easily perform live (laughs). It's a song that only an incredible artist can pull off, so when I thought about singing it live on stage, I was like, "Really? Me?" But when I saw the setlist for the live part of the FanFest, I started feeling like, "Actually, I think I should give it a shot." As a performer, I had some reservations about whether I could deliver the quality it deserved, but the "Oshi no Ko" fan in me couldn't resist. I was like, "Everyone wants to see Ai's voice actress sing 'Idol'" (laughs). After a lot of back-and-forth, I decided to go for it. I understood how Kana Arima felt when she joined the new B-Komachi. The joy of being relied upon by the team and the desire to meet the expectations of the work won out in the end.

Between “Our Sign is B”, “HEART's♡KISS” and “STAR☆T☆RAIN”, which is your favourite B-Komachi song?

That’s a tough one since they’re all A-side quality! (laughs) It was like, "Wow, B-Komachi is seriously awesome!" You can really feel the passion from the music team, like they were determined to bring the world of "Oshi no Ko" to life through these songs. It was also surprising to see how the series expanded from the manga into this whole new realm of music.

Was there anything specific you focused on while recording the project’s songs?

I tried not to change my tone just because it was a song. My focus was on making sure that when people listened, they could immediately recognize it as Ai's voice. At first, it was really hard to come up with a solid idea of what "Ai singing” sounded like. Usually, she's a pretty laid back and carefree, but she can’t exactly sing like that during a live performance. Ai’s a pro when it comes to entertaining the audience and enjoying the moment with them so I was constantly trying to find the right balance between Ai’s characteristic nonchalance and the high energy of a live idol performance. The first recording I did was for "HEART's♡KISS," and honestly, I ended up putting too much force into the opening line, "I'll send you a cheer." Since the song's theme is about sending everyone good vibes, I got too intense with my delivery. I got an ‘OK’ on that take but when I listened back to it, I felt that it wasn’t quite right, so I asked to redo just that part. If people didn’t immediately sense Ai at the very start, I worried that they wouldn't feel her presence throughout the entire song.

If you were to send a message to Ai, what would you say?

There’s so much I’d love to say to her, it’s hard to pick just one thing. Still, I think Ai was really happy in her life because she got to say "I love you" in the end. Even though her life might seem tragic to others, the feeling that stuck with me from playing her was a sense of incredible contentment. So, I’d probably just want to have a casual chat with her and watch over everyone together. Oh, but I’d definitely tell her to keep that door chain locked!

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #ai hoshino #hoshino ai #rie takahashi #takahashi rie #onk translations

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eddiestightywhities · 10 months ago

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“Eddie, you do know that I'm—that I'm yours, right?” Buck's eyes are holding Eddie's gaze like the fate of the world is suddenly at stake. “I mean, I'm yours for whatever you want, y’know? ‘Cause there is nobody else in my life that is... that's you, as in what you are to me, for me, and I'm—I just want you to know that I wanna be that person for you, too; need you to know that I am that person, and that I can be whatever else it is you might need me to be. Or maybe want me to be.” Eddie feels like all the oxygen has suddenly been sucked right out of his kitchen. “You—you get that, don't you, Eds?”

Christopher once wondered out loud about which beast from the animal kingdom, other than human, would represent each of the three of them and their different personalities, and when Eddie had thought about Buck he'd pictured excitable Golden Retrievers and bounding Dalmatian puppies just as much as the next guy. But the proxy creature he'd been more sure of—and more hesitant to admit likening Buck to—was the Hummingbird, with its astonishingly strong heart that beats at something like nine-hundred times per minute (which Eddie knows about because Buck told him, of course).

Eddie has never known anybody quite like Evan Buckley, with his supercharged and forever-bleeding heart that's pinned so earnestly and so prominently to his shirt sleeve that Eddie's sure it's sometimes visible to the naked eye.

Bar his son, Buck is the greatest person Eddie's ever met.

They weren't always what they are now, though, Buck and him. Not back at the very start. But somehow, one day, somewhere along the line, they just—were.

They became Eddie and Buck. Buck and Eddie.

And this… something, that's simmering between them, it's a thing Eddie couldn't put his finger on for the longest time, couldn't quite make out whenever he attempted to look at it, trying to parse it out and see it for what it really was. It's an emotion he hadn't thought he'd be able to describe, even if he'd wanted to. A brand new feeling for Eddie's collection that he felt forming in the space behind his ribcage, something that bursts forth whenever Eddie looks over to Buck on the job, or at weekends when they take Christopher for days out at the park or the zoo, or whenever Eddie thinks about Buck when Buck's not around. Buck: this long-legged, loyal to a fault smiling guy who has become the best friend Eddie has ever had. Hell, he just feels it all the time. Invisible yet almost tangible, this unnamed something first sprouted like a sapling the day the two of them dug a live fragmentation grenade out of that retired third-grade teacher's thigh, springing up and growing branches that get bigger every day, reaching outward towards the sun to bathe in its warm rays, seeking out life. It grew within Eddie, and it's still growing, spreading out through every part of his life, now, not with the speed or ferocity of a wildfire but a thing similar to climbing roses; slow and steady, delicate yet hardy and strong.

Its true nature has always been just a little to the left of Eddie's range of understanding, though, an almost ethereal thing just slightly out of his reach. For a while, he hadn't dared to examine it all that carefully, or at all. Hadn't known how to, honestly. He now thinks that talking to Frank and embarking on his journey to figure out Who Am I?—trying to find out who Edmundo Diaz is as a person—was probably the start of him working out what this ever-expanding something between him and Buck actually is.

Eddie came to the conclusion pretty quickly after that, that Evan Buckley, this kind-hearted, wide open, supremely loving giant puppy dog of a person with the heart of a Hummingbird, has become his person. Before Eddie even had the opportunity to notice that their relationship had started to change and morph into something different than what it was at the start, Buck had simply become his partner. In all ways, seemingly. Not just at work, but in life. And Eddie—well. Eddie realised at some point that he was somehow, amazingly, now apparently one hundred percent Buck's person, too.

The only other soul Eddie has ever gotten close to in that way was Shannon, and sadly everything about their relationship had been so profoundly situational. Eddie thought he'd needed a girlfriend in high school, and Shannon was so, so lovely and had wanted to be that person for Eddie. Then Christopher had unexpectedly come along when they were both still so young, and they'd got married because that was the right thing to do, what Eddie thought he was supposed to do. He then ran away scared, by enlisting, and his life ended up spinning out of control and heading someplace he wasn't old enough to have even imagined, a life he'd somehow acquired and felt he had zero control over.

Not that he'd change any of it. There was happiness in the love he and Shannon had for each other, even if it hadn't quite been the right kind of love, and they'd made a beautiful baby together, a beautiful boy. And after coming home to Christopher after his last tour, at long last, Eddie knew he wouldn't, couldn't, be without that kid ever again.

Christopher was and is the one true shining light in Eddie Diaz's messed up life.

Until Buck.

Eddie and Buck, they have chosen each other as partners. And as parents, too—that's the truth of it. And they've gotten so close to each other in such a quiet, gentle way that Eddie hadn't been able to see the wood for the trees, it seems, hadn't realised their dynamic had shifted quite as significantly as it has over the years. Infinitesimally, then bit by bit, but so vastly and so dramatically at the same time.

He and Buck are together. All of the time. Because they choose to be. Because it just feels so damn right for them to be that way. Together, they are what Eddie believes partners are supposed to be.

At some point it had dawned on Eddie that the two of them, he and Buck, had moved beyond just friends and into… that something. Something else. It had just happened so softly and so seamlessly, and with such unprecedented ease, that even after he'd clocked it, he hadn't really thought to question it because it happily became a thing that just was.

Yeah, Buck and Eddie just kind of... are.

Eddie also doesn't know when exactly it was that the grounding touches they so often share became increasingly more frequent, more important to Eddie, and then softer and more lingering, warm and comforting and completely different to the way either of them touches anybody else, Eddie thinks. Buck has been Eddie's person for what feels like forever, but Eddie started to find more recently that this thing in his chest that is constantly reaching out for Buck, this bond, this something special that they share, it was becoming something that pines and wants and needs, something fragile but at the same time something unerringly and amazingly steadfast.

Like the Hummingbird.

They're an immovable thing, Eddie and Buck. They're Buck and Eddie. They're Eddie and Christopher and Buck. And the three of them, together, are the one thing in Eddie's life that is so assuredly grounding, and so real, that Eddie often feels his chest might burst right open with the force of it.

Together, they've become more.

Eddie learned that when you find your way to that person—your person, the one who makes you feel like even when everything really isn't okay, you having that feeling is okay as long as they are here, with you—it's an unwavering thing, an absolute thing.

The real thing.

Eddie looks across his kitchen table at Buck, his Buck, right here and right now, and realises that this something between them is the thing that all those poets throughout the ages have been writing their sonnets about.

Sunshine. Wildfire. Climbing roses.

This something—this person, Eddie's person, Eddie's Buck—is standing in front of Eddie, having taken root in Eddie's chest while wearing his Hummingbird heart on his sleeve and offering Eddie a share in his sunshine world.

This something; it's a thing called love.

Maybe Eddie got there first. Maybe Buck did. Maybe it dawned on them both at the same time, but Eddie knows that they both know it now, he knows it with the way all of Buck's love is radiating out of his body and flowing into Eddie's, like a shared life-force or magic or some cosmic shit Eddie knows he doesn't really need to comprehend.

I'm yours, Buck told him moments ago.

Eddie takes a breath, and begins.

“I'm yours, too, Buck. All yours. It's you and me, man. Together. You and me and Christopher, because I know just how much you love him...” and he doesn't dare add what is the hopefully implied ‘too’ at the end of his declaration, but only because he doesn't know how to say it out loud, just yet.

Until he very much does, barely a second into Buck nodding and beaming like Texas sunshine and saying, “You do get it,” and Eddie knows absolutely that he can say it, now.

So he does.

“Yeah, Buck. I do. Because I love you, mi Colibrí. I love you.”

Buck surges, becoming that wildfire as he rounds Eddie's kitchen table, their table, and Eddie stands to meet him, his Buck, his unstoppable force, his best friend, his heart, and Eddie's chair is clattering to the floor as they grab onto each other, big handfuls of shirts and arms and faces and napes of necks, gripping tightly and hanging on for dear life because maybe the fate of the world, their world, really is at stake after all.

Yet stood here in Eddie's kitchen, together, holding each other, Eddie somehow knows they both understand that their world can't actually be tipped on its axis so easily, not by injuries or natural disasters or even The Great Unknown. Buck and Eddie can't be shaken so hard they come apart at their seams because like everything else in their lives, they're in this together.

Eddie and Buck, Buck and Eddie. They'll figure this thing out.

Together.

Buck is standing so close that Eddie can feel warm breath on his cheeks, a definite panting that mirrors Eddie's, both their chests now heaving with the air that's crackling between them, eyes roaming all over each other's faces and then Buck's baby blue's settle on Eddie's mouth and Eddie's follow suit, and he's amazed at just how pink Buck's lips are this close up and all he can comprehend in this moment is that he doesn't think he's ever wanted a person so much in his entire fucking life, has never felt the pull of want and need and home as strongly as he does right here and right now, for his best friend. His partner. His Colibrí.

His Buck.

“Buck, I want—” Eddie's yearning is so loud he can't even finish his sentence.

“Me too,” Buck helps, and he's leaning in a little further, tentatively and so damn slowly that Eddie wants to scream at him to get on with it but also wants to freeze-frame them in amber because this is the moment that he knows, really knows; the moment Eddie has been trying to uncover; the rose bush and its branches, the fire, the sunshine; the moment Eddie finally understands what it is that he feels for this man now in his arms, knows exactly what their something is and what it was all along; the moment Eddie has been unknowingly and unbelievably hoping, hoping, hoping would arrive someday.

Today, Eddie thinks, and he can't wait any longer so he kisses Buck and Buck kisses him back and Eddie knows, then, inherently, that Buck loves him, too.

[END]

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

inspired by and a tribute to one of the loveliest fics i've ever read: OF HUSHED WORDS AND HUMMINGBIRDS by the hugely talented procannibals on ao3... you should absolutely click the link to go read it and show it all the love it deserves! btw the themes of hummingbirds as a metaphor, plus eddie's question of 'who am i?` here belong entirely to mo (procannibals) and the fic linked that i've just mentioned.

this is also on ao3 HERE (published as 'Today') if you'd like to be so kind to pop across there and leave me a comment xp

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