#i just needed to. put that in writing. for my own self to comprehend.

[whorelaud]

꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 hushed fantasies ¡

pairing brother's best friend¡nicholas chavez x fem¡reader

summary thinking you were messaging your friend, you accidentally sent your brother's best friend a thirsty paragraph about him, with Nicholas opening it before you get a chance to delete it. what you were not expecting was the leading conversation, causing realization to wash over you as he hints your desire is not one-sided after all.

contains suggestive, sexual tension, a bit of dirty talking, a brief kiss, flustered reader, cocky nic, hes also very freaky (uhh???)

a/n this is the silliest thing ive ever written i was giggling the whole time while writing it. likes and reblogs are v much appreciated!!!

word count 1.7k

You: the amount of self control i have is insane because why do i not have this mans dick in my mouth rn please i need nic so fucking bad its not even funny anymore he is everything i want in life id let him use me any day morning afternoon n night im available ugh i dont even get the ick when its him he was acting like a dad earlier yelling at us to grill the meat right and it was so adorable ill call you daddy u want me to call u sir i dont kink shame im down for whatever king omg stop he got hurt earlier and he GROANED???? i almost fell to my knees YAHOOO he definitely whimpers #needthat 10/10 i just know its thick ooh tip pink shade #d97e77 thats insane till my knees are bruised and my throats scratched my panties fell tears are rolling down my thighs OMG PLS can you feel my pain hes so bodangshis how does my brother look at him and not wanna fuck him id be all over him if that was my friend gahhhd!!! hes actually so sweet he kept speaking to me earlier so i dont feel left out of the conversation and i find that adorable do u think he slaps it before he cums oh my his girlfriends so lucky im ab to put her in a headlock ahaha this is gross no man should have this much of an impact on u unless their dick is big and the sex is absolutely amazing yooo what he probably knows how to please a lady id be hard if i had a dick rn STOPP he has a happy trail im gonna lose it hahah lets find out where it leads i dont wanna think ab that im going crazy literally pulling my hair out that should be u baby GIVE ME A CHANCE?!!!! thinking ab him makes me so nervous this is getting a little too srs ahaha okay im sorry hows life?!? i miss u :(

Sending that message, you were anything but expecting the response you got in return, not from the man himself, that’s for sure.

nic: oh?

nic: i think you got the wrong person

You audibly gasp, realization washing over you as you read over the message. That was, in fact, not for Nicholas, nor was it for anyone but your friend to see.

You panic, putting your phone down to process what happened, needing a moment before responding. Right, you needed to do that.

But why did he see it so fast? He didn't even give you time to comprehend your message, the text switching to read in an instant.

Hell, it was midnight, and it’s been a long, tiring day for the both of you, having been out the whole afternoon, merely to come back to the hotel and spend more time with your other friends.

Everyone decided to end the night off early; early being a bit before midnight, with you heading to your room afterwards. Your brother and his best friend shared the room taking place next to yours, making it easy to reach out to him.

And for that, you were grateful since Nicholas was with him; meaning you got to see more of him throughout this trip.

You’ve had a crush on Nicholas for god knows how long, with it starting the moment your brother befriended him. You’ve technically gone through all the phases he experienced, hell, you saw him more than your own parents.

He was sweet, a little too sweet, perhaps it bothered you. Nicholas was very known among women, he knew how to attract a lady, showering her with praises until he eventually got what he wanted.

That made you extremely jealous, knowing you couldn't have him. He was forbidden, off-limits, someone you could only admire from afar.

And that stupid crush of yours led to this conversation, one you didn't want to discuss.

You: i didnt mean to send that to you

The text switched from delivered to read right away, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

nic: clearly

nic: i dont have a gf btw

Why did he feel the need to clarify that, and why were you relieved over hearing it?

You buried your face in your pillow, feeling heat reduce from your body. You’ve never been this embarrassed before, not around Nicholas. While you were weird sometimes, it was never this bad.

He wasn't supposed to know about this, nor discover it the way he did.

You: cover your eyes pls

You: this wasn't for u

nic: you sure?

nic: are there any other nics in your life?

Your stomach twisted at the message, hand coming up to cover your mouth as an audible gasp escaped your throat. How could he say that?

You felt all sorts of emotions wash over you, unable to process each one of them as you read the message over and over again.

You: what if there is

The question was risky, it could either end with him telling your brother, or him teasing you over it and brushing it off. Either way, you couldn't have him, so why not just fuck it and go with the flow?

nic: then that would be disappointing.

Your breath caught in your throat, vision going blurry as Nicholas’ bubble kept appearing and disappearing.

nic: id really hate that you feel this way about someone else

Oh my god, were you dreaming?

You could not believe your eyes. You turned off your phone, letting the dimness of the room seep through for a moment before you unlocked your device once again, heart skipping a beat when you realized it was real.

Nicholas, your brother’s best friend, might have been flirting with you, but that’s just in your head, right…?

You: ??? wdym

nic: you first

nic: was this about me, doll?

The pet name made you weak to your core, spiraling you over the edge as you put your phone down for a second. You took a deep breath, feeling your face heat up at how suggestive the boy sounded.

He sounded so desperate, you weren't sure if it was the tiredness, or him being genuine. Either way, you’re fucked, because you’re willing to do anything for him, even if it means breaking your heart.

You: what if it was

You: what will you do ab it

You felt nauseous as you waited for a response, groaning when the boy disappeared for a minute. Did you say something wrong? Why did he suddenly leave?

nic: then id risk it all

Speechless. Your mouth hung open, chest filling with lust as a breath heaved out of you.

You: are you saying this because you’re tired

nic: no

nic: god no

There was no ounce of self control in your body left. You almost screamed, overwhelmed by a new sense of emotions.

Is this how it felt? Because fucking hell.

You: it is

nic: it is what?

You: this is so embarrassing

You: why are you making me admit it you know exactly what im talking about

nic: baby

nic: jus tell me

You: no you suck im going to sleep

nic: WAIT no come here youre so cute

You blushed at the message, unable to suppress the smile forming on your lips. God, he’s such an idiot. And you were totally swooned for him.

You: i literally just sent you a message talking ab how much i wanna suck your dick what about that is cute

nic: oh? so you do admit it

You: …

You felt nervous, realizing how serious this has gotten. From a silly message turned into you contemplating whether this was a good idea. The last thing you were anticipating while typing that message was a confrontation, one from Nicholas; at that.

nic: you couldve told me yk

You: do you hear yourself

nic: ? what

You: nic you know this is wrong

You: youre gonna wake up tmr and forget all ab it

nic: you knkw

nic: yoirw so fucjinf hot

You came to a halt, noticing the amount of mistakes the boy was making. Your mind wandered somewhere else, feeling heat crawl past your neck, all the way to your face.

You: what are you saying

nic: fucking hell

nic: take the hint baby

You froze in your spot, tongue coming out to wet your lips, suddenly feeling heat travel to in between your legs. Don’t give in, don't give in, don’t give in.

You: what

nic: you couldve asked me if you were curious

nic: i wouldve happily showed you

That sent you over the edge. Your mind went fuzzy, unable to process the last few texts you received from Nicholas. He was being serious, dead serious, you were sure of that.

The texts you exchanged always revolved around your brother; usually Nicholas asking whether he was home or not. However, this one was different.

He was hinting something, something very risky that you were unable to resist.

You: dont say that

nic: what, you don't believe me?

You: nic

nic: give me five

You stared at the message on the screen, confused on what he meant. Your eyebrows furrowed with puzzlement, awaiting a message, merely to get nothing in return.

As you were about to shut your phone and go to sleep, it pinged, the notification startling you awake. You clicked on it immediately, mind going hazy as you read the message over and over again.

nic: open the door

nic: im outside your room

You didn’t hesitate as you got up, swiftly walking your way to the door. You unlocked it with haste, vision going blurry as you caught sight of Nicholas, who was standing inches away from you now.

He looked just as desperate as you were, maybe even more. And that was it, it was all you needed to pull him by the collar and cease the distance between you two.

The moment his lips collided with yours, you realized that maybe it’s worth ending up with a broken heart, because Nicholas tastes fucking addicting, and you found every way to make good use out of that obsession.

The possession of knowing he’s off limits, yet here he was, eagerly kissing you numb.

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

[mononijikayu]

cure — ryomen sukuna.

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

GENRE: alternate universe - alien stage au;

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

WORD COUNT: 16k words

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

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then there was Ryomen Sukuna.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Of course, Ryomen Sukuna was quick to notice. 

With those sharp eyes of his, he always noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows furrowed. “But I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just wanted to sing together with Sukuna forever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you did. You always trusted him.

How could you not trust him?

He was all you had in this wretched place.

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just a moment ago, he was something.

And now, he lay there dead, nothing.

Nothing but a pile of blood and death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a death sentence.

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

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

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

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

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

"But... why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ryomen Sukuna never listened when it came to you.

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

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

Sukuna was truly bitter about the failure.

Grievous because you were still here, trapped.

Mournful because both of you could have been free.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The word hit you like a blow. 

Separately. 

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

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

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

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

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

And then he was gone.

His guardian follows behind him.

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

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

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

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that someone was you.

He chose you, only you.

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

The votes quickly came in.

He turned to his opponent. 

And he watched, his eyes cold.

The red spilled on his face.

Ryomen Sukuna had won the round.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

Then came the announcement.

The one that would change everything.

You were going to face each other.

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

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

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

You and Sukuna were going to face each other.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you.”

“For what?” You asked him softly. 

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

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

But there will never be enough time. 

There will never be another time.

You cannot escape this time, not like this.

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

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

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To him, this only ends one way. 

If someone must survive, it has to be you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stage completion.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

epilogue 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled back at him. “Good.”

[nectardaddy]

YOU'D NEVER KNOW . . . k. sugawara + f! reader

♬ mentally exhausted // she don't recognize herself yet // and it's getting too much to bear // but it's hard to tell by looking at her // she seems so well put together // you'd never know

                   ✩ you'd never know, evan honer 

₊˚. notes/CWs : hurt/comfort, depression + anxiety, panic attack, nausea/feelings of wanting to vomit, feelings of self loathing, reader is a teacher, not proofread, self shippy as fuck I'm sorry, this felt good to write so just…don't perceive me

 Her fingers hurt from the tight hold on the sink. Knuckles tensed and hands in an ironclad grip on the porcelain; the chips and dings on the side dug into the exposed skin of her hand, leaving small indentations and bruises from holding on for dear life.

Her chest was sore, her throat scratchy and hoarse, as each deep breath hurt worse than the last. In and out - what her therapist taught her. But she didn't believe her therapist had ever taught a room full of ten year olds, nor did she believe the professional would ever be stupid enough to do so. The deep breaths never worked. Filling up exhausted lungs with hot air could never be the solution to her problems.

Too many things to do, and not enough time.

For a moment she thought this was time wasted, bent over the sink heaving for air. Gasping and gulping for just a single, peaceful, deep breath. But she let the thought pass as soon as it came - she was always wasting time.

‘You're an asshole.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Why can't we do anything fun?’

‘Do we have to do this? Is this for a grade?’

‘Are your plans done for next week?’

‘What did you do for that child to act out like that?’

‘Remember your why.’

‘My child would never do that.’

‘You need to get a 70% passing rate or we'll lose our accreditation. We're counting on you!’

A never ending slew of questions, insults, assumptions, and standoffish statements landed her to the chasms of her own mind. Hunched over the bathroom sink, and fighting the urge to vomit. A swirling, dark, nauseating pit fell to her stomach like a rock in the morning and remained there all day; only now was she allowed to feel it. Only now, in the comfort of a rundown apartment bathroom, was she allowed to set the emotion free from a happy-faced facade that made her skin crawl, that felt wrong in every regard, and was a complete and utter lie.

She had gotten home five minutes ago, held the pulled taught feeling so strongly until the moment she stepped through the threshold. It was a crumbling tower from there on out. Cracked, broken, and out right destroyed as soon as she managed to push herself to the bathroom. Tears slipped down hot, frustrated, cheeks until the stream became a broken dam. Gushing and never ending - a nightmare to those in its wake. She cried in anger, in sadness, in grief - pure desperation to feel something other than exhausted.

She didn't hear the door open and shut softly, too focused on the task of taking a full inhale (that she never could get) to hear it. Didn't register the thud of a bag hitting the ground, or the confused call of her name. Her mind too warped with a sense of self loathing to even comprehend that there was a gentle knock on the door before it creaked open.

Her appearance was lackluster and bleak; jostled professional attire now wrinkled and blotted with tears. But Sugawara knew the feelings the woman felt all too well: a deep pit of loathing and wanting, teetering the line of desperation and outright giving up, just before the last crack feathered out and caused chaos and mass destruction.

Her eyes flickered up to the mirror in front of her, dusty and speckled with dots of dried water - neither of them had the energy to clean it in weeks, and locked eyes with familiar brown ones. Brown ones that swam and dipped in concern and adoration, feelings she wished others would look at her with.

She watched him look over her a moment, brows knitted together before his eyes softened. “Hug? Or not yet?” Asked softly, and in second nature. The pair had a prior agreement to leave the fleeting touches for later, when they both had time to settle back into their own skin. Nothing was worse than an argument caused by overstimulation, and words spoken in anger that could've been resolved by a simple question such as this.

“Hug.”

A single word was all the man needed to engulf her in warmth.

Sugawara taught second grade, while she taught older. And to this, she thought as if the lingering smell of crayons and glue would always be a part of him. Stitched into the seams of his clothes every time he got home, soaked into his skin the moment he walked in the door until he showered. But it became a smell she associated with peace, with serenity - with love.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, like a missing puzzle piece that had finally been found. And he remained stationary, unwavering, as she closed her eyes and tried to hide herself amongst his sweater. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It'll turn into a two hour rant if I do,” she whispered, voice almost incoherent as she spoke into the fabric above his chest.

“You could go on for four and I'd still listen.”

She paused, and for a split second the nausea disappeared. His words flipped the breaker in her mind before it turned off once more, and the need to spill her guts punched her in the stomach again. Her hands gripped the wool fabric of his sweater tightly when the feeling returned, and fingers went numb as she remained tense.

“I don't know if I can keep this up, Kou. I'm so tired.” Her voice wavered and broke, another crack in her overall appearance that made his heart sink further.

“I know,” he breathed. “I know you are.” A blanket statement that he knew right down to the roots. An exhaustion that, really, no one could understand unless they too were in the profession. A tired that swam in shallow veins, and dipped into the psyche - driving one mad.

“Everything I do, and every choice I make is wrong to someone and I'm just so sick of it.” She groaned, “and I'm so sick of being told to ‘remember your why’ to legitimate concerns about something.” He hummed before she continued on, “I don't feel appreciated at all.” Her voice dropped once more, before she let out a shaky sigh, “by anyone.” She felt him rest his chin on her shoulder, and he let out a gentle sigh. Not knowing what to say to make the situation better, as he knew nothing truly would - a broken system would remain fractured whether he despised it or not.

“I appreciate you more than anything.” His voice was quiet, knowing if he spoke any louder it would rile her even more. “And I don't need a why, I just need you.”

taglist

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks 

@yogurtkags @bakery-anon @totallytatum @mollyrolls @aozui 

@jadeoru @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @sandwhitches 

@angelichwv @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @crypt-0rchid

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 7 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 (here)

It’s been around a few good months since the attack on the hotel, everything has been quiet around the hotel and you’ve been adapting well to the residents of the hotel. Since you were technically a staff member. Plus, since you’ve confessed to Alastor, things didn’t change much

Was what you wanted to say

You find yourself pulled out of your comfort zone when you’re set to have some form of duty. Then there was your little self-imposed obligation to go on dates with Alastor that suited him. While you were happy Alastor was enjoying your time, you can’t help but find yourself drained by the end of it

Not to mention Charlie’s insistent of your inclusion in her various activities. You really really preferred to be in the comforts of your room watching aime and reading manga or manhwa or whatever they are called

Still though, Alastor always knew when you were burn out from socializing and would put a stop to your suffering. Followed by a relaxing cuddling and anything you prefer. His attitude and behaviour towards you didn’t change all that much if you don’t count the increased intensity and the easiness of making him flustered

Because you and Alastor were a ‘confirmed item’, there were a lot of teasing from the hotel members to which Alastor prides himself on blocking off and you let him. Though there was an odd dynamic between Alastor and Lucifer

What you could describe as a parent or father judging his child’s lover type of deal. An example was you leaning against Alastor while on the lobby couch then Lucifer comes sitting next to you as well and moved you so that you were leaning on him. Or another where they were both preparing your meal and had a contest over, but because they took too long, you made your cup noodles

It was all weird and all, though nothing to stress over. You like staying at the hotel all the same, even though your friendship with them isn’t all that strong compared to what you share between Alastor or Lucifer

“You know, Pager, it got me thinking.” Lucifer started. It was a random quiet and slow day, as rare as it is, Alastor was out in Cannibal Town to gossip with Rosie. Of course he told everyone else he had important business to attend to.

“Yeah? You’re not thinking of making another library themed duck collection, right?” You gave him a suspicious gaze, looking up from your novel. “I’m not accepting those. I have like… a whole shelf of them back home.”

Lucifer awkwardly chuckled, “Okay, I mean, no! Of course not.”

You gave him a look of pure doubt. “If you gave me some and Alastor knew about it, you bet he’ll burn it.”

“Just gotta make them fireproof or something.” Lucifer whispered, but he shook his head and cleared his throat, sounding more professional. “Okay, this is serious! Very!”

Without warning, he suddenly dragged you into a portal of his own and you two arrived in a realm of his making. A realm where everything was golden. You hugged onto him tightly when you realized it was a gold sea below you two. Naturally, you yelled at him for doing this out of the blue

You had him held onto your while you wrote ‘wings’ on your page to form a pair of them behind your back to keep you afloat. You went back to yelling at Lucifer before he gestured to you, saying this was the point

Unable to comprehend, you said of course because you were no angel. Nor did you expect him to just drag you into another realm out of the blue

“What if you didn’t need to write on your pages to get things done?” Lucifer suggested, his wings flapping from time to time to remain in the air over the flowing golden liquid below you two.

“Then I can’t do anything. I’m nothing without my quill and pages or at least a surface to write on.” You answered, pointing to the wings that magically appeared from your words alone. “You know that.”

“I mean as in you don’t use them. Maybe start small, like don’t use your pages and only your quill to write.” Lucifer cryptically explained, you gave him a raised brow and he groaned, “Oh, come on! You watch your little shows, you know what I mean! Writing it in the air and poof!”

You laughed. Yes, you’ve seen these things happen in TV shows and anime, but you never got the chance or want to try it out. You see, you don’t exactly see yourself to have something so overpowered in your skillset or ability list

From what Alastor told, his immense power came from the evil deeds he has done in his years alive. His ticket to Hell had his name when he first killed. Then his power slowly built up from the serial killings he did. Adding to that, there was fraud, manipulation, and corruption. His twisted moral of how a hunter make good use of their prey was way too concerning for you

Cannibalism. He ate his victims as a method of exposing the bodies, well, only the ones he saw were healthy. But still. Then he told you like a storybook before bed how he dug up graves in the bayou where he dump the bodies or put it somewhere noticeable on purpose to catch the attention of the public

Afterwards? He speaks through the microphone in his booth while the radio all over his hometown state listens, he sympathized with the victim and their family and friends, he warned listeners to be careful, he wished the authorities to make quick work in finding and arresting the killer. All while a sick smile was on his face as he made those broadcast

It’s times when he tells you his cruelty that you’re reminded with who you rescued, sure Hell was a piece of work, but Alastor was another story. He’s something straight out of a serial killer movie, but in real life. You can’t question enough how Alastor fell for you and turned to a yandere type as well, but not like you’re regretting it now. He grew on you far too much

In contrast to Alastor’s build-up or something like a pre-register in Hell for power, you’ve done doing to that degree. You didn’t kill others, you aren’t even manipulative, and you definitely wasn’t brave enough to commit some other crimes. If anything, you were a victim

You already can’t understand why you had the power you do now. Alastor theorized before it was due to the fact you love books, but then the question changes to how your powers were this unique. Why were you any to summon and conjure items you understand? 

Alastor can do something similar but it’s just that. Similar. He snaps his fingers and things just appear. There were limits, but something he can’t do was summon angelic steel or weapons like you can

Once you joked how you were actually destined to be in Heaven. That got Alastor into a frenzy. Immediately pinning you down and patting your back to see if there were wings

“A joke! It was just a joke!” You shouted at him, there was that crazed look in his eyes that sent a chill down his spine. Even though you have his soul and limited his powers, he was still the more powerful one between you two.

Alastor blinked and got off of you, his eyes narrowed as his smile shrank, “A poor joke, Darling. Even if you’re destined for Heaven and taken away from me… I will find you and drag you back down to Hell.”

You got Lucifer to bring you back to your room and leave thing as that. You don’t think you can do it, it was a pleasant thought, to be able to do that you’d be more powerful. Then again, you’re not seeking to be powerful. There was nothing for you to fight for. You had Alastor, that was enough

Not in Lucifer’s case though. He kept pestering you on learning, randomly bringing you to his golden realm that you got used to it and just prepared pages with the word ‘wings’ written on it. His persistence caught Alastor’s attention

At first, Alastor was annoyed that Lucifer was trying to spend time with you and to your delight chased Lucifer away, but after you told him what it was about, he was interested to see your power grow as well. Claiming that it was a great opportunity

Of course, he added that it wasn’t due to him doubting he can’t protect you in times of needs, but he didn’t want what happened on that roof to happen again

What if you didn’t have a surface to write on? What if you didn’t have your book with you? What if your pages were wet? What if your quill was taken away from you? What if you were put into a situation where you can’t rely on your pages and quill?

In that sense, Alastor was all for Lucifer’s idea. Since Lucifer was the one to see how your power developed, he was the better supervisor than Alastor. As much as your love hates to admit it. Though he wanted what’s best for you and he thinks you needed this now that you were staying at the hotel where sinners and demons can roam freely

“Fine…” You sighed, “I’ll try your little idea…”

“Yes! Come on! We’re starting training!!” Lucifer opened up the portal with his apple cane. 

“Have a productive time, My Beloved!” Alastor hugged your good luck, kissing the top of your head, “I’ll have your favourites ready when you return.”

And so started with your little power upgrade project

Lucifer spared no expenses when it came to dragging you out of bed from your comfort activities to do more trial and error

It felt like the days when you were back in your living years, having to study and work. The twist was that you enjoy it since it was your first friend from Hell that got you to work. If anyone was in doubt about Lucifer being the King of Hell. He was a hellish tormentor for you

Turns out, that golden realm he has was all under his control and that golden sea could have been dry land. Oh you were so pissed when you learned that. Sure it helped with exercising your wings ability but he could have told you in the first place!

You’re very very tempted to just smack him in the head. But you told yourself not to give into temptation and just be good and get this over with. Lucifer is still the King of Hell and a powerful fallen angel that was leagues above you. You can never compare or try to win over

Alastor, the sweet thing, was always there for you when you needed some comfort or when you didn’t have motivation to continue

He provided you with so much that you thought back to your time alive

When you were down in the dumps and burn out, you longed for someone to be by your side to support you through thick and thin. You thought you had it, but it was a lie you told yourself. You thought that was happiness, it was nothing but a joke you drown yourself in

You truly enjoy your time with Alastor and all that he has given you, devoted to you. You can’t thank him enough

In the end, there was truth to Lucifer’s little theory. You started with plainly writing in the air with your quill, nothing happened naturally. Later on, you started to envision writing on something and it worked just a smidge. You soon learned to see the air as your surface, treat it like there was a hologram of a page there and write on it. Like all those sci-fi movies and TV shows you watched

Letters started to appear in a neon glow, coloured in your signature colour of your aura. In no time, the letters appeared more constant to your writing, then words formed. That was a big step, your next goal was to actually summon something

That took more time to perfect, but you got it since you were past the big goal of writing on nothing or air. The items you summoned grew in size and weight, then you barely managed to summon your angelic weapon. You fainted right after it appeared

You lacked stamina and energy to maintain it after using so much to summon it into existence. A short break was taken before you pushed yourself to continue. Lucifer and Alastor both supported you while reminding you that there was no pressure

No pressure. They actually mean it. It wasn’t a tactic to guilt-trip you into working harder. Figures appeared in your mind but you shook it away. No, you’re doing this because Alastor and Lucifer believes you can do it. You’re doing it not because you were forced. You want to do it

It was when you finally managed to summon an angelic weapon and maintain it for a good while that Lucifer deemed your powers successfully upgraded. Him having to act like a system congratulating your work, it left Alastor confused, but he too praised you for your achievement without giving up

Next step was to not use your quill to write, you already had an idea to use your fingers like a particular anime’s protagonist from long long ago. Maybe you should rewatch it for some more ideas. But there was something else that you never got around to ask

“Oh yeah, why is it that you keep bringing me to this goldy realm of yours?” You poofed away some random objects you summoned with a wave, “Can’t we just do all this in the hotel? It’s big enough for it and we didn’t actually use much space anyways.”

Lucifer groaned, “Oh, no. No~ No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Thats, uh hah, no. Bad idea.”

Your head tilted, “Bad idea? That’s the hotel you rebuilt with the others, right?”

Lucifer would be banging his head from that movement, sadly and unfortunately for him, there was no wall in sight in this weird golden realm. “Yes, but now Charlie let Vox’s people install these screens all over the place and… Arghhh… I had to destroy the TV in my room cause of all the heebie-jeebies I got from it.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, it was like the day before I asked you if you thought of that power upgrade thing.”

No wonder Alastor was more pushy about you staying in your shared room or his radio tower recently. Never letting you away from those areas. Now you understand what it was about. You did wonder why Alastor didn’t tell you, but then you recalled how it was you that have been stressing about the deal with Lucifer and your power, so there was never a chance for him to tell you that

And naturally the other hotel members would assume Alastor told you so they never approached you. Ohhh… You feel like a jerk now

You quickly made your way down to the lobby, easily finding everyone you needed

“Charlie!”

“Oh! You want to join our activity? We’re gonna do some online competition with this new—”

“No, Charlie, why did you accept VoxTech’s stuff?” You questioned immediately, stepping between the group and the large screen. 

“Vox was sponsoring us! He gave us so much help! He even had his employees install everything around the hotel.” Charlie praised, though you noticed how her eyes stayed glued to what was behind her. The others all nodded in agreement, seemingly in a trance.

Your eyebrows furrowed, you looked behind you, just a peek was enough to see that Vox had been hypnotizing them to say good things about him. You glared at the screen, showing Vox and his hypnotic eye. This doesn’t work on you. “Alastor!”

“Darling!” Alastor appeared through the shadows, immediately turning you away from the screen as his hands held your face so that you stare at him, “Did he do anything to you?”

“It’s okay, hypnosis has no effect on me.” You spoke through squished cheeks, you squeeked when Alastor stole a peck before releasing you. You blush, never will you get used to this, you peeked around your lover, seeing the group recover. “Alastor, destroy all VoxTech products in this hotel. No matter how big or small.”

Alastor’s grin grew, “With pleasure.”

You wrote ‘recovery’ on your pages and restored the gang back to conscious minds. You would try your newest technique, but this was more concerning since it was on someone other than you

When the group snapped back to their senses, Charlie and Vaggie shouted at you for what you told Alastor to do. You argued back that they weren’t even aware that they were mind controlled by Vox, it was a matter of time before they were mere puppets. You pointed over to Angel who’s boss, Valentino was Vox’s partner, and Angel backed you up easily

Lucifer offered his thoughts on the matter as well, claiming that’s why he doesn’t watch TV that often. He didn’t want to say anything because the hotel was Charlie’s and it was her decision on what she does with it

You went on to warning them how controlling and unseemingly evil Vox could get, he truly is manipulative with that perfect CEO outlook he gave everyone around him. When things don’t go his way, he was sure to retaliate like a baby throwing a tantrum. You relate with Alastor on how you two view Vox. Truly, you wonder why he was accepted as an Overlord with that personality of his

From this the group honestly saw how you were once an informant for Lucifer. You speak your mind, acting swiftly and precisely. Your knowledge on other demons, Overlords even, was a deadly weapon at your disposal. Your secretive nature made things more complicated since you wouldn’t be one to share unless necessary

Alastor praised and sang you words of flattery at your action, even though he was the one that did all the work. You merely had to drag him to your level and kiss him to shut him up, then you two went back to your shared room to cuddle while having your movie night

Charlie and Vaggie cut all contacts with Vox and his company, warning him to stay away from the hotel if and when he has ill-intention to associate with it

“F**k!” Vox slammed his fist onto the table, his screen face glitched with error messages as his rage continued to raise. All his cameras and speakers in the Hazbin Hotel was gone, the connection wasn’t merely lost, it was completely gone. 

He didn’t expect someone with authority to make Alastor destroy them all. He thought the bleeding princess will keep him at bay, and he was so close to finding out about that figure on the roof that day. Someone that protected Alastor and removed all the eyes he had to watch that battle.

“Pages…” Vox mumbled, he tugged on a chain that suddenly appeared. A contract chain. “You better stop meddling in my plans!”

“It wasn’t me! I swear!” The pulled in figure cried, her long hair covering her crying face, “I’ve been here all this time! How can I do anything!?”

Vox glared, pulling on the chain until it was choking her, “Well, it’s not everyday you see a sinner with the power to command pages to do their bidding, right? Who else if not for you? Huh?”

The female demon cried and sobbed more, “It wasn’t me, it really wasn’t… Don’t punish me…”

Vox eyed his giant tank with aquatic creatures, his grin grew, “Yeah, I think you need some reminding.” He told his little weak contracted soul to his eye level, “Who it is that owns you, you don’t get to decide. Copy-Kat.”

Note: Hi hi everyone!! This is back from a bit of a pause (as you can tell, I've been working on another series). Though this part might not be as good as you'd like. But necessary for the future parts. Haha~

The requests sent a long time ago on the Reader's/your past acquaintances and interaction with Vox will be added to the parts after this! Or treated as trivia when direct contact is made!

Give this series a warm welcome back~

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 1700+

Warnings: some swearing, but otherwise a dripping sugar

Really, in this chapter nothing happens, yet I got overheated just writing it and had to refill sugar bc this sucked all the sweetness from my system. It's too much fluff for me🤯😵‍💫

Part XXIV | Part XXVI

After both of you calmed down, Tamlin insisted on carrying you back, claiming that it was too dark and you could get hurt. You were in awe of his strength. It was quite a long walk yet he wasn't panting, not even broke in sweat. It seemed as if he was carrying a feather, easily jumping over fallen trees and shallow holes you didn't see. He seemed to be unmoved by what just happened between you.

However, you were a different case. Only mere minutes passed since you basically told him you loved him, despite the mess in your head and heart, not fully comprehending the weight of such words and what it would do to you. Every nerve in your body was tense, sensation of his body touching yours leaving you breathless. Your heartbeats were too loud even to your own ears, your palms were sweating. You clenched them into fists where they were resting on Tamlin's shoulders, praying you wouldn't sweat through his shirt. You were so nervous that you couldn't enjoy this moment at all and when he finally put you down at the threshold of your cottage, you were happy it was over.

Too embarrassed to look him in eye, you swiftly walked in, washed your hands and once again picked up the knife to finish the cutting. You were relieved to find out that he made sure to remove the pot from the fire and cleaned the blood before he ran after you.

Tamlin watched every your move so intensely that the tingling sensation on the back of your neck was almost unbearable. You took in a deep breath, readying to get back to work.

Tamlin's long fingers wrapped around your hand, gently taking the knife from you.

"Let me do this," he murmured near your ear. His rich deep voice combined with tickling of his breath on a sensitive skin of your neck made your heart miss several beats.

You blinked, trying to get over the fog of your hazy mind. Whatever you felt around him before, grew suddenly more stronger. It wasn't the first time you were in love, but this was so different from what you'd experienced in the past. Could it be because he accepted your feelings but didn't share them? He said he needed you, yet needing someone wasn't the same as loving them. And he didn't say he loved you.

You just speechlessly nodded, gazing up at him. He chuckled. Another wave of heat climbed up your neck, settling down on your cheeks. It was a long time since you heard him laughed like this. It was hard to believe that just mere minutes ago he was broken and full of self loathing. This situation, it was so..confusing.

High Lord watched you with eyes full of mischief, corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

You quickly stepped aside and putting the pot back on fire you pretended to be too engaged in mixing and adding seasoning.

"That colour suits you," Tamlin cooed while cutting carrots. You even forgot how to stir the contents of the pot.

"Carefully. Don't burn our dinner," he teased you.

This was the Tamlin who danced with you on Solstice, who liked to tease you and laughed happily and often. Although his smile still carried a hint of shadows and caution was present in his bright gaze, he seemed to be really back. On one side you were happy for that, but on the other hand, it was too nerve-wrenching.

You didn't know how you managed to finish cooking the soup. Not remembering what you actually put in you sceptically took a spoon to taste it, expecting the worst. You were pleasantly surprised that despite your absent-mindedness it was edible even delicious.

"May I taste it too?" Tamlin suddenly stood next to you with bowls.

"Sure," you stuttered, offering him the spoon, but he didn't take it. He just stood there waiting with half-open mouth.

Shakily exhaling you filled the spoon again, cooled the hot liquid and offered it to him. Without breaking the gaze he leaned in. Your sight fell to his perfectly shaped lips, the way they closed around and smoothly slid down the spoon leaving it clean.

"Delicious," he licked a droplet from his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you sighed still gazing at his mouth. He grinned. Realizing how it sounded, you blushed fiercely.

"Would you set the table? I'll bring bowls," he purred playfully.

Welcoming the offered way out, you took spoons and glasses and put the distance between your bodies. Room suddenly felt too hot, so you opened window and looked out.

Cool night breeze caressed your burning face and you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. What was wrong with you? Why your heart couldn't calm down? It was just Tamlin, the very same person you had spent months with before your life turned upside down. The very same person you held when he felt bad and needed help. The same male who held you at night after nightmares haunted you, who smiled at you, caressed you, hugged, danced with you... You hid face in your palms, scolding your mind.

"Everything alright there?" Tamlin asked softly, watching you.

"Yes, I just need fresh air," you called back over your shoulder.

For the rest of the evening he didn't tease you anymore. He helped you clean up after the dinner and then you two spent some time sitting in your separate armchairs, sipping the tea and reading. It was so relaxing moment that you wondered whether you were only imagining all the things before.

However when the time to go to bed came, Tamlin didn't bid you goodnight. He stood up and trailed after you to the stairs. You were too tired and noticed it only once you were halfway up the stairs. You spun to face him and found him hesitating with hand on railing and one foot on the step.

"What's wrong?" you asked him, wondering why he didn't go to his bed as usual.

His eyes looked you up and down and then wandered behind you to the door of your bedroom.

"I-.." he bit on his lower lip. Your brows rose, you blinked waiting. "I wonder if I could sleep with you tonight."

"Sleep with me?" you repeated, your mind already giving you all kinds of ideas, one more embarrassing than the other. You felt warmth pooling between your legs and you shifted uncomfortably.

Tamlin probably felt the change in your scent. His eyes widened and he..blushed. It was very adorable sight. It was just a slight pink tint of his cheeks, but it caused your body heat rose even more. You again shifted and looked down suddenly finding your feet to be very interesting.

"I-.. I didn't want to imply anything inappropriate," he stuttered, ashamed. His scent grew stronger now.

"I meant to sleep together like sleep together. Fuck," he swore under his breath, stumbling over the words. He ran fingers through his long golden strands in frustration and inhaled deeply.

"What I meant is," he started slowly, taking time with his next words, "to sleep next to each other, with space in between us if it makes you more comfortable."

"Or as until now," he added in a smaller voice.

Tight embrace, enveloped in his pleasant scent, his hands on you, warmth of his body seeping into yours. Yes, that's what you wanted. You didn't even need to think about that.

Your mind brought out the imagine of his lips. How would they taste like? What would they feel like? You shook your head, convincing yourself that that wasn't what you really wanted.

"Fine," you whispered to the empty space between you and ran up the rest of the steps. "But give me a moment."

You'd never been this nervous. After changing into the nightgown which was already quite challenging because your hands wouldn't stop shaking, you brushed your hair and then again and again.

You were going to just sleep, nothing else would happen. You had to repeat this words in your mind at least thousands time, but it didn't work. With wildly beating heart you climbed to the bed, covered yourself with blanket and called to the too silent house.

The door opened and closed, mattress dipped under his weight. Slowly he slid under the blanket next to you. Your bed was too narrow for two people, so whether you wanted or no, your bodies were touching. Tamlin was lying on his side facing you, you were facing the window, your back to him.

Even without seeing him, you were aware of his every breath, his broad chest brushing your back. You felt his eyes on you, heard his every swallow and his heart racing just as fast as yours.

You were certain you wouldn't be able to fall asleep like this and wondered how you could sleep so soundly every previous night.

Sheets rustled when he moved, lightly touching your shoulder.

"May I?" His deep but soft voice vibrated through your body, your eyes closed with delight on its own accord.

You just nodded. He so slowly wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you closer to his front. You had to bite down on your lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape you.

His other arm slid under your head, replacing the pillow.

"This way it should be more comfortable." His breath fanned over your hair to your face. It smelled of tea you drank before going to bed.

He started humming a soothing melody, his hand lightly running up and down your stomach in lazy small circles. It worked wonders and you finally relaxed.

"What you said back in the forest, did you really mean it?" he asked when your eyelids became heavier, sleep slowly overcoming you.

"Yes, each word," you mumbled sleepily.

You could feel his face in the crook of your neck, gently rubbing against your skin. You chuckled when his breath tickled you.

"Thank you," he whispered to your hair, now both arms embracing you firmly. "I.. like you, too."

Those were the last words you heard before drifting into a dreamless sleep, smiling happily. Tamlin followed you soon after.

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania @talesofadragon @ceoofyearning

[casuallivi]

The Shadow Between Us

Hello, ladies. Long time. Long, long time. I began writing this for elriel month 2023 (sheesh) and it was supposed to be a sequel to Three is a Party 🤭🤭. Unfortunately, I never finished, but today I felt like posting it anyways, trying to feel that flame of having active hobbies and all that. It's not perfect, but it was born from passion. Let's hope for the best. Love yall ❤️❤️

Summary: Elain is no strange to the possessiveness of the fae, especially when it comes from an Illyrian male. Yet, nothing could prepare her for the calling of the Shadow. For a Shadow needs his Seer, as a Master needs his Flower.

Warnings: Listen, this will be NSFW. Will not be giving explicit warnings because the act will built itself, so just imagine that any sexy thing under the sun can happen, along with curses and graphic description. Read at your own risk. (this warning makes no sense now, but that's where old stabilized me was hoping to go to 😬. enjoy anyways.) Post ACOSF.

~~~

“Oh, mother!”

The freshly-cut bouquet of chrysanthemums slipped through her hands coloring the hardwood floor red. Elain quickly turned around, palms hiding her spoked eyes, skin turning crimson as the flowers at her feet. A feverish heat crawled up her spine as her mind replayed the scene which she came across:

Azriel, half-naked, pinning what appeared to be, a very naked, Shadowsinger to the mattress. The slip of a rough groan sounding awfully sensual in her sensitive ears.

“I’m – I’m so sorry,” she stumbled an apology. "I didn't know you were," she stopped mid sentence, looking the right word to say. "Here."

All Elain wanted was to put fresh flowers on his nightstand, so he'd come back from Dawn to a cozy bedrom. Instead, she found Azriel already home, looking like he was playing with himself. Quite literally.

She tried not to fan herself.

They’d shared a bed before: Azriel, Elain and the beings concealed inside themselves that noone else knew about; the Seer and the Shadowsinger.

A forbidden and painfully delicious experience that left her insides sore and sensitive enough to get legs to stop working for the rest of the day. Not that she would go anywhere being knocked out for 24h straight. Elain never thought she would let two men – male and shadow, really – dominate her completely, use her at their will, but she had let Azriel and the Shadowsinger explore and command her, fill every hole in her body. Even the Seer she trapped deep inside had surfaced that day, eager for a taste of the darkness calling her forth.

Elain peered over her shoulder, not feeling bold enough to confront the males tangled in the sheets.

She knew the Shadowsinger was prone to roam the land when Azriel’s shields presented the smallest of crevices for him to slip through, she just didn’t expect for them to indulge in this type of activities without the intention of seducing her fueling them. She turned to the pair, heart thundering with an emotion she could not comprehend.

“Why is she reacting like that?” The Shadowsinger broke the silence first, sitting up to better look at her.

Azriel took his time to appraise Elain, the harsh murderous glint of anger that had been there a second ago being replaced with curiosity.

“She’s getting creative.” He said with the hint of a sneer.

Deadly talons, which spiked on the wall behind the bed to give him stability, retroceded slowly, black leathery wing span. “Is not what you think." He bursted her bubble, hands back on the Shadowsinger's neck. "I'm locking him back.”

“He is naked,” she blurted. Remembering later that it was not proper to be commenting on another male’s nudity in front of him. Even if the male was him. But not quite.

Snorting loudly, the male under him pumped his hips upwards, catching her attention. “Little flower, where you looking at! My eyes are up here, love.”

“He does it to spite me.” Azriel spoke over him, vexed shadows blurring in and out of existence as his shadow-self strugled to remain outside his body. "Enough now.” He snarled, being ignored. “Go back.”

“Come on! I have not been out in months! I need a breather.”

“You do not breathe.”

“Semantics.” Came the Shadowsinger strangled hiss, wings misting away in tiredness.

With a warcry he tried to throw his master away, the movement a mere diversion to his true attempt to escape by mystifying. It was no easy feature to trap a shadow. Bright cobalt shackles glowed in Shadow’s wrist, his hiss of pain unsettling Elain. Azriel fought his urge to sooth her as he registering her soft whimper, his concentration flickering, making him struggle to reabsorb the tendon of darkness stealing his shape.

The thief was reluctant to go, scraping at the walls, grabbing to gates of his mind hurling insults at Azriel, who shut him down, shoving him in. A battle he was losing to fatigue. Reluctantly, quivering shadows began to climb his hands, then his arms, the dull ache of sentient shadows sinking back into the tattoos a comforting promise of solitude. Still, his shadow-self refused to go.

A swarm of shadow covered Elain seconds before The Shadowsinger burst through the power-shackles with a raging howl, a blue wave explosion sweeping the bedroom.

“Fuck me.” Azriel heaved.

The Shadowsinger merely wheezed a laugh, punching the male in the gut, who collapse to the side. Shadows fluttered in and out of existence under the electrical haze of unusual power, the otherly being molding his body back.

Elain lowered her hands, having covered her head by pure instinct, watching the havoc in disbelief. He winked at her.

"Elain, dear, if you were waiting to give me a feverish kiss there's no better time than now."

Deep inside, there was a small part of her worried for being here, in the middle of this peculiar struggle.

The problem is the rest of her was shimmering with excitement at the sight of her males’ display of power, drunk by the dangerous enticing atmosphere. Elain cut her gaze to her Azriel, who swiped a hand over his face, finding him beautiful even amidst his frustration. Curls damp by sweat clung to his forehead, his heavy breathing provoking memories of other activities who caused him to be in similar shape on same bed. Prone on top of her, or under her, his hard body pounding–

Beside him, the Shadowsinger sat up straight as an arrow, startling Elain, who had forgotten all about him, too busy fantasizing.

“Shit, she’s dripping.” He sneered.

Too tired to sit, Azriel braced himself on his elbows, observing her with all the scrutiny usually reserved for the hidden dungeons in the mountain. Elain did not buckle, in fact, she smiled at him; a shy smile nestled between bright red cheeks, glowing doe eyes blinking a little too quickly, betraying the direction of her mind.

He cocked his head, Elain feeling the cool wisp of shadow grazing her neck, curling at her ear.

I can practically taste your thoughts. Came Azriel’s muffled deliver, relied by one of his many assistants. She batted them away.

"Busybody." She mumbled absently, knuckles turned white where she clutched her peach sundress. Elain had no idea cotton could suddenly feel so restrictive and stuffy.

Who would have thought that flowers would put her in such delicate situation? The flowers in Azriel’s room were nurtured with so much love and devotion they turned spelled, ever-bright, never-withering, flowers capable of intoxicating poor Cassian out of existence. Elain didn’t care, she’d grow them anyways, exchanged the batches – even when they had no need to be replace – to match them with the little notes she desired to pass along. It was a great shock to open his door and find Azriel, not only in the room, but accompanied of his counterpart, rolling around in bed – not that the purpose of said rolling was recreational, but her mind didn’t bother with details. All that mattered was the image of Azriel straddling his shadow-self, battling for control, the cedary musk of power dominating her attention.

Shadow back-handed Azriel's shoulder.

“She’s so easily aroused these days.” he commented casually.

Azriel cut him a glare. “How’d the fuck would you know?”

“You think you are the only one who can feel her?” Shadow smirk was evil, “Please, I can feel her. I can feel her, too.” He complemented, giving Elain a knowing look. “Writhing on the inside, clawing to break free. I can give you all that little head of your is painting. All you have to do is ask; get on your knees and ask me nicely and I give you it all."

"Come here, love." He tapped the bed.

Goosebumps tingled her arms, a subdued ring of white encasing her brown eyes. Unknown to herself, Elain took one step forward, shadows swirling beneath her feet.

“Are you fertile, love?” Black lit eyes dropped to the v between her legs, as if he could see the ruining that remains of her undergarments. “Is that little garden of yours ready to be seeded?”

He palmed his hardening dick, hands going up and down the length of it. “Want me to put a baby on you? You’d look good with a child swelling your belly. My child.”

She turned her head to the side, wide-eyed “You can sire children?”

The question was shy, whispered with wonder. Like most fae, Elain had no idea of true the extension of Azriel's abilities. Let alone his shadows.

The Shadowsinger smile was feral, predatory, oozing confidence. A smile that was vanished by a kick on the ribs, the strengh of it sending him flying out of the bed.

One second more and hands were grabbing her waist before Elain had time to gasp, Azriel throwing her over his shoulder to carry her to the door. His action was enough for a moment of lucidity to hit her. Remains of human embarrassment sparkling under the surface of her skin, the quiet demure lady she no longer was feeling taunted by his crude words. Elain gulped the thick lump clogging her throat down, feeling self-conscious. At times like this, she hated how well they could read her.

Azriel dropped her back on her feet outside the room, giving her a quick peck.

"Wait here for a minute."

[...]

[rorja]

synopsis. you, suguru, and a window left open— or, the soothing lullaby of springtime.

a/n. very much self-indulgent and probably with a lot of mistakes (be patient please, i’ll correct it first thing in the morning!) but i really needed to write a moment of peace after a troubling week…….. also, i’ve been very sick and this is my first attempt at writing after a long time so i apologize if it’s not that good TT — 🐣

it was comforting, watching the thin but sturdy branches of the plum tree stretching to the glittering dots adorning the sky. regulus's fiery mane moving delicately as the evening breeze's note echoed in the air. waking up every sleeping blossom, cradling in a motherly embrace each of its sons and daughters that were yet to be awakened.

spring. where your eyes landed you could spot significant signs of its long awaited arrival, from the night sky to the grass steadily growing inches in your neighborhood's garden. it made a smile bloom on your lips, the same way pink and whiteish buds littered every branch of the plum trees.

you traced the astronomical asterism one more time, drawing an imaginary line that connected the three luminous stars of the evenings to come. an invisible triangle that linked arcturus with spica, just to finish on the other side of the sky and meet with the last component of the brightly lit trio: regulus. many people (and internet. mostly internet) would argue with power points at hand and scientific theories that the white star of denebola was a better choice than regulus. more suited to close the imaginary triangle, resulting in a nearly equilateral one at the price of brightness.

but you didn't care. that place belonged to regulus because that is what you saw the first time you used a telescope. and no one could've made you change your mind, of that you were sure. stubborn just as much over something that wasn't even real but dear to you.

your chest danced slightly— a breathy chuckle finding its way out as you eventually lifted your growing aching arms from the windowsill.

(you know a person who would've found that stubborness of yours endearing.)

a yawn parted your lips and the door cracked open. it had been a long day— a long week even, for both of you of course. but this time around it had been particularly rough for suguru. he was the one to come home with an aching back and tired limbs, though it was not that hard to see how fatigue latched on his body. a voracious snake that found a comfortable nest in between his chest, refusing to leave him alone.

it was the main reason as to why dinner was made a little earlier today and the dishes were left on the counter to dry for the night. you will put them back in the respective cupboard tomorrow as the first thing in the morning. for tonight, you decided to prioritize your rest.

it was also the reason why suguru took a longer-than-usual shower and got out of it only now. the noticeable difference in his shoulders made relief bloom in your chest— no more slumped, or a tad bit droopy but instead relieved, back to their natural stance as if the weight holding them down had been lifted. a minuscule change that probably would have gone unnoticed by others.

he walked toward the bed, phone steady in one hand while typing an answer to satoru and ieiri. it was easy to tell who suguru was writing to. you noticed overtime that when he texted the two of them he wiggled his nose a lot and (if gojo ended up saying something stupid or sending weird memes) his frown lines became more wrinkled, like a child trying to comprehend the meaning of a new word. it was adorable.

you followed his steps, raising the duvets and moving away the excessive amount of pillows on your side of the bed. suguru did the same on his own half.

"satoru giving you a hard time?" a breathy chuckle. he didn't answer, simply shaking his head in resignation and placing the phone on his bedside table before collapsing on the bed with a content exhale. you took that as a sign to join him.

"just satoru being satoru," you didn't fail to notice how his eyes softened when looking at you, "i think yuji should stop teaching him about internet slangs. he's been doing the deez nuts thing for two weeks already"

though there were traces of hopelessness heavily lingering on his words, you couldn't help but notice something else— something that you recognized immediately after as fondness. a familiar feeling that he reserved only for the few people he truly cared about. you didn't even try to stop the laughter bubbling in your chest.

(suguru watched as your eyes crinkled in amusement. the sound of your laughter lulling him to further relieve- soothing away every stubborn trace of stress still sitting heavy in his bones.

spring waltzed from the opened window, attracted by your presence. he couldn't blame it; you were the spring he eagerly looked forward to seeing each day.)

when your laugh eventually dimmed, his phone lightened up with new messages to read. suguru retrieved it and you did the same with yours, wordlessly shifting in a comfortable lull and a familiar embrace. a satisfied hum broke momentarily the blanket of silence falling on the room when you felt his free arm around your shoulders. fingers playing absentmindedly with the strands of your hair, messily splayed on the pillow.

you nuzzled closer to his chest, your cheek now resting on the thin fabric of his white shirt he had been recently using to sleep with. phone clasped in one of your hands while you scrolled mindlessly through the feed of your favorite social media.

and it's gentle. serene. a moment of shared complicity that carried the veiled scent of blossoming flowers and stardust. a needed addition to the relationship that brought somehow a welcomed sense of mundanity.

when suguru eventually fell asleep first, his chin resting on top of your head, you didn't have it in yourself to get up and close the window. too pleasant, too cozy to even entertain the thought of leaving it for a few seconds. you will close it tomorrow, first thing in the morning. as of tonight, you'll let yourself be cradled by the sweet lullaby happening outside that very same window.

(suguru's arms never felt so much like home before.)

[loquarocoeur]

are you a bit ashamed of posting some stories sometimes because you’re aware it’s like 99% smut ? or do you know we’re as crazy as you are and will enjoy anything you give us ?

Hm, well, considering the things I've read (and enjoyed) in my lifetime as an ao3 enthusiast I don't think I can really be ashamed of what I've written...

But I do sometimes get a tiny bit self-conscious, I'll admit

It's less than you'd think though, because it's actually only when it's something that's like really oh okay this does something for me, and I'm really sorry to admit, but I'd say a good 80% of the smut I've written weirdly does nothing for me, I was just fucking around tbh or it was all just there to allow me to put in that one line or thing that actually means something to me

Also a large part of me not caring is that you guys aren't really real people to me, you're just pixels in my screen

Like idk how other people perceive their readers, but you guys aren't real. I can't comprehend you until someone is a serial commenter or someone dm's me as a real human and I'm like uh what. And fandom policy is don't like don't read so if there's ever an actually negative comment the writing is like so not the biggest issue there

Also you have to consider I've stared at my docs and my fics so much at this point that I am very desensitised and I only realise oh wow this was a bit wild like.. after I've posted it at which point there has always been someone who said they liked it and I'm like okay idc anymore as long as 1 person is weird with me I'm like yep cool immediately no longer self conscious

But yes sometimes I do need to hold my own hand and be like hey, it's okay, you're allowed to put e rated things on the website.. which is dedicated to e rated things. That's like.. the point.

Anyway yeah some fics waayyy more than others, but it also depends on lots of things so like yeah

And also there is always someone in the inbox that is in fact so much worse than me which is so comforting actually

I'm realising now that this ask probably did not require an essay but it's too late now you got the essay

[redscreendarkwin]

You would never shift with that mindset All you do is complain and argue with everybody else. You will be forever stucked in this reality grow up and learn what shifting reality is. You're doing more effort in being a limiting person than doing an actual work in shifting. You don't understand how in every reality it's a different past for every race. You sound very inexperienced you mini shifted once and act like you know how this universe works. You are stuck in CR circumstances. This is why your account is flopping instead of posting motivational stuff you complain and create discourse. The universe won't give you award for best in morality you are just nothing(in void way). Too woke you're not educating anyone you just add more problems and limits. But I understand because you're too young and never experienced shifting for a long period of time. Stop focusing on cr. If you affirm you're not in 3d then do it ignore post about race changer if you hate them. I used to be like you before I call out everyone cancel them because we don't have the same moral values but as time passes by I notice I don't see any improvement with my journey all I do is argue with everyone in the comments and not changing my mindset. I tried changing my mindset I accept if I'm consciousnees being aware I can just shift anywhere else where I like it there's an infinite amount of realities don't focus on what you perceive as negative if they race change or date minors you can post about calling them out but that wouldnt change them although you can manifest these type of people won't exist in your reality but in another they still will so all your efforts of calling them out and you're proving them wrong are just a waste of energy and efforts. It is better to pour this effort with shifting and changing your mindset. Try improving your mental health and separating your self with contents that ruin your motivation block everyone else that disagrees with your opinion simple as that don't interact with their energy never post them dont acknowledge them just observe and block these people won't change. You're the one need to change. What i meant by you need a change is to change how you view this people see them as temporary and you will never interact with them once you shift to your desired reality. Don't get attached with the cr circumstances they're just temporary problem of your cr self but you're already living as dr self. The feeling of pain is the memory of past live in pleasure and happiness because you live now as your future dr self already. Tumblr is just an app that helps you communicate and interact with your community it's just an app all this opinions of people don't matter to you because yours matter the most use this app for love about shifting and your dr. these hating negative people can dissappear in just a tiny click of block button choose your moots well.

HELLLPPP, I can't even take you seriously. @mywitchyblog, going on an alt account just to write this shady ass anonymous comment is just well, I would say low but the bar is already in hell.

First off, thank you so much for my first hate ask. Didn't know you were this obsessed. 🤭

Now I'm beginning to realize how you saw my post a while back when I blocked you. You do know you can take your own advice and block me as well instead of getting on an alt just to hate? Better yet, put on your big boy pants and address me directly without anonymity.

And again you fail to comprehend my point but then again this behavior isn't anything new from you. I said that anything can be classified as a limited belief. Just because someone believes one thing doesn't mean they aren't going to shift. Which is why the whole "limited belief" concept is stupid. I don't see race changing or aging yourself down to date minors as morally right because it isn't. That’s my belief. I can call it what it is which is racist and pedophilic. Doesn't mean I'm not going to shift because I minishifted on multiple occasions and there are people out there who hold the same beliefs as me who have shifted for years.

For someone who acts all high and mighty about their journey, you fail to realize that everyone is different and everyone shifts at a different pace. This is how I know you barely know anything about shifting. You just go around saying the popular opinion and never have once had an original thought in your entire life. You're also talking about shit like the universe when it's widely known that the universe isn't gonna make you shift, you do.💀

I also love how you called me woke because I said I didn't want adults to fuck children. I would rather "flop" than have a whole bunch of pedophiles and racists agreeing with me. You're really making a case for yourself. I hope to god I never find myself bragging about how “successful” I am on TUMBLR of all social medias. You’re averaging 12 notes per post, how exactly are you not “flopping” also? I genuinely believe this is the only thing you’ve got going for you.

I'm not stuck in my cr circumstances, I just have morals. Your morals shouldn't change once you get into a different reality. Even if I saw people as temporary that doesn’t mean I can’t address them. With this logic, why should I care about world issues or anything for that matter. I could off someone but guys guys, don’t worry it doesn’t matter because this reality is temporary going by your logic 😱

And even if the limiting beliefs thing did exist you shouldn’t change your morals just to shift. That just says a lot about you and how flip floppy your morals are. There are realities where murder is seen as perfectly ok, doesn't mean I should follow. Me believing that murder is wrong isn't me being stuck in my cr circumstances. Any shifter with a murder dr could turn around and say that you’re wrong for thinking that murder is wrong and you’re “stuck in your cr circumstances”. Do you see how stupid your argument actually is? Can you get that through your skull? I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall here. One thing going in one ear and out the other.

Doesn’t matter how many people you send my way (like last time) because unlike you I actually stick to my morals. You can hop off my tip now. I am a minor after all.

Realize that I BLOCKED you for a reason and going on an alt because I blocked your main is ACTUALLY insane.

You and the counselor are twinning btw:

[arcanavoid]

About Julian

In my post About Dorian I mentioned how people in the fandom typically reduce the M6 into one or two personality traits. I’ll be talking about Julian today and the fandom's treatment of him!

I'm going to try and keep this factual and not opinionated, nothing like “he should only be like this” and more like “this is what he is in game, but people show him like this” 

It's gonna be a long post so if you don't want to get into the topic, or don't feel like reading something long then go ahead and scroll by! I don't mind! 

And if you want to make this a civilized discussion then i don't mind talking and hearing others points out either!

So let's go!

Julian is a Doctor who went to Parka to learn medicine and got most of his experience on battle fields while he apprenticed under Nazali. He started up his own clinic in Vesuvia and ended up being hired by the palace to work on the red plague cure, eventually treating Lucio himself. 

After the apprentice died he was stricken with grief, eventually he had an affair with Asra but it didn’t exactly last. He soon found a cure in the form of killing Lucio through sickly hallucinations of the hanged man. 

Julian is a smart man, who often blames himself for things that were not his fault, even putting himself at risk with no evidence simply to save others or because he feels guilty. He loves people with his whole being and yet doesn't trust himself to be around them as he thinks he’ll hurt them with again no evidence. 

So tell me why most of the Arcana fandom will portray him as, for lack of a better word, idiotic and whoreish. 

I know Nyx Hydra poked fun at Julian a few times, mentioning that he likes to use leeches or make him kinky, but that is simply not his whole personality.

Yes, he can be flustered easily, and easy to arouse, and a masochist. But he is also lovey dovey, and soft and mushy and loves with his whole heart not just his dick.

And he literally went to school, i know its a big joke that he simply doesn't know what a medical school is but he literally went to one… and even if he didnt and there's no evidence of that he was at least mentored by Nazali who definitely did go to school. 

Now again i'm not saying he can't be horny, oh on the contrary he is horny, for someone he loves, not just a stranger. And by all means he's not the smartest man in the world, he actively struggles to comprehend magic and the Arcana realms but that's because he is smart with science and medicine! 

And yes you can write porn without plot with him, he doesn't have to show off his undying love in every single thing he's in. and yes you can make him marvel and question magic and still show his smarts in reality. He literally tries to use logic in the tower's realm and figures out that the realm is looped by testing out his hypothesis. 

All I'm saying is that a lot of people reduce his character when he really is rich in personality, and hopefully this will help bring some light as to what his character might look like more fleshed out. 

Another point I want to touch, is Julian as a background or side character. I’ve written a fanfic that was focused on my Mc, Asra, my friends Mc, and Julian. But my friends Mc and julian were supporting cast, so Julian wasn’t as fleshed out as Asra, but i didn’t reduce him to only horny or kinda dumb whenever he was “on screen” his traits just didn’t show as much as it would if he was a main character.

So what should we take away from this? 

Well, Julian can be horny and isn't the smartest man in the world, but he is much more than that! He's loving and cares so much about the people close to him, he's smart and doesn’t know much about magic but is willing to try and figure it out with the knowledge he has. He gives his whole self to someone, his heart and body. And he does not need to constantly show these traits in depth especially if he's mostly a side character in someone's story. 

Julian is a lovely character, and I would love to do an analysis of him after I re-do his route, but I think this is good enough for now.

Of course you can all do what you'd like with him, but when it becomes prevalent that the fandom is mostly thinking of him in a reduced state it becomes a little saddening, and it's good to remind ourselves that he's not all horny and unknowing! 

Feel free to give your reasoning for making him more horny, since i’ll be honest i don't think as many people think they’re dumbing him down. If anything I think Lucio might be dumbed down more, but I definitely notice the dumbing down of Julian too.

[seriousbrat]

Seriousbrat… I admire your commitment to preaching the word of Mid Remus Lupin in this website… but you go so hard I’m starting to think you hate the guy… so I dare you to throw the stans a bone and tell us what do you think were the guy’s best qualities and compile a small list of things that he was above average at, if you can muster it. I double dare you!

LMAo it probably does seem that way! I definitely don't hate Remus. In fact I like him quite a lot. I also enjoy writing him and his plotline for this next part of my fic has been a lot of fun!

Honestly, I tend to cut Remus a lot of slack, especially as a teen. I'm not sure if you're referencing this post but believe it or not that was a list of things I find interesting about him because flaws are a good thing for a character to have in my book! I also feel like I defended him in that post or at least empathised with him haha.

The thing is, being a werewolf just seems so awful, in a way that's obviously difficult to comprehend in real life, that I find a lot of his behaviour much more understandable than I do the other Marauders/Snape. Everything he does has to be viewed through that lens. And despite everything he manages to be kind, thoughtful and brave and I do find that very admirable!

Moony's best hits:

Bravery: he's avoidant, sure, but I don't think this is out of true cowardice. Or it might be cowardly in a sense, but I don't think this precludes him from being brave in other ways. It stems from his self-hatred; Remus would rather be miserable himself than inflict himself on others. VERY SAD. But he's willing to put himself into danger, fight for the Order, risk his own life, live in terrible and dangerous conditions for the cause. I don't think it can be said that he's not brave at all, even if he displays cowardice at times. He isn't scared of dying for what he believes, but he's terrified of himself, which is a totally different type of fear and requires a different kind of bravery to surmount.

Kindness: I do see Remus as very kind in nature. He immediately identifies Neville as having potential but needing a little extra guidance. It's him that befriends Peter and includes him in the group, and I see it as the same thing. The moments that Remus seems less than kind (ignoring Snape's bullying, for instance) I think he is actively going against his own nature, but unlike the other Marauders he's aware of that and it does cause him internal conflict. He has to choose between possibly losing the only friends he might ever know, or doing the right thing, and that's a more difficult choice than I think we realise, particularly for a teenager. But I see him as essentially very empathetic. As an adult he expresses remorse for the way they treated Snape, much more than Sirius does when Sirius has more to feel guilty about, and does his best to be civil and respectful even when Snape gets him fired and is horrible to him lol. Which is something.

Cleverness: He is very smart, although I imagine at school this was somewhat overshadowed by James and Sirius. But he has a different kind of intelligence imo, one that's more understated and thoughtful. I also think his own brand of unassuming yet witty humour is what drew James and Sirius to him initially, once they spotted it. If you don't know Remus very well, you might not think he's particularly funny but he is. Similarly, I think he was a good, hardworking student, and particularly adept at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Again, he was overshadowed by the flashiness of James and Sirius- I don't think Remus totally minded, though, as he would have wanted to fly under the radar for the most part.

Thoughtfulness: I know this is kind of similar to cleverness, but where Sirius, and to a lesser extent James, is very driven by instinct and recklessness, I see Remus as much more circumspect. He thinks about the impies (implications) of things. In fact, he thinks a LOT. The Lupin brain is constantly turning, and his inner world is very complex with a lot of conflict that he's constantly sorting through. I think in part he longs to be carefree and careen through life the way he sees Sirius doing, but obviously his condition means he has to be very cautious. And this also means that he's very considerate towards others. He picks up on suffering around him and thinks about how his actions might affect others. A little too much, but there it is.

Honesty: This might seem strange given he has to lie and hide things throughout the books, but again I think this is him going against his true nature. The way I see Lyall and Hope, I think Remus was raised with honesty as a core value. I also think he was a BAD liar lol, unfortunately for him. This is in complete contrast to Sirius, who is an excellent liar because he was raised in a way that necessitated it. I know I keep comparing him to Sirius but that's just the kind of juicy wolfstar #Dynamics that I live for. I think Remus values honesty and the fact that he can't practise it causes him turmoil. It must have been a huge relief when his friends discovered his secret and he could stop lying to them; for this reason I think Remus would have been reluctant to get close to anyone outside of their group.

I know a lot of these are "Remus is X but he doesn't actually do it" but that's the point of his character!!! Remus is constantly at war with his own nature, and this is made literal through his being a werewolf. The contrast between who Remus is (mild, polite, thoughtful, kind) and the violent beast he carries around within him, the complete opposite, is the whole point. That's why I can't stand fanon Remus being this swaggering aggressive alpha male lol. but anyway

Hopefully that's enough! I also think he was loyal, obviously, particularly to James and Dumbledore, who had shown him unprecedented acceptance, and later, Harry. His speech about Harry on Potterwatch after parting on bad terms is always a touching moment for me. But I think his loyalty has to be won, and it is rarely bestowed. He just can't trust like that 💔

[distortedclouds]

Can you really explain in detail what black water Annie’s dad has against Armin is he just “nobody can love my daughter more than me” and controlling cause hes a narcissist or is there another reason? Cause we know the hate is obviously mutual between armin and annies dad but Armin is a good guy for annie, he’s literally a commander why wouldn’t he be happy knowing he treated her horribly?? Sorry for it being so long but i had been thinking about this for a while

Well sorry this took FOREVER for me to answer, anon, but here I am! (promise im not dead)

I think one of the hardest characters to write in BW was Mr. Leonhart. because it's so easy to make him a two-dimensional villain with very little nuance. So it does help to try and see things from his perspective a little bit, even if we're ignoring the selfish/self-centered accusations made by me numerous time. 10 years ago, him and Annie made a promise that it's them against the world, that neither him nor Annie need anyone else to rely on as long as they have each other. This is when he said that she can make the whole world her enemy but he'd still be on her side and that's all that matters

By the end of the series, you can see Mr Leonhart kept good on his "promise" he seems to still be only focused on her returning, keeping to himself because that's what he told Annie to do. But now she's back, and she hadn't kept her "promise" of it just being the two of them, she now has friends she can rely on, people she trusts and loves and who love her back

I think there is a sense of betrayal on his end, but I don't see him turning against Annie after 10 whole years of waiting for her and believing she's alive. Instead, it's much more realistic of him going the route of "it's other people" who are taking her away from me so that starts causing some resentment even towards Annie herself

I've also pointed out before that I don't believe he actually knows Annie as a person. He never got to know her before he "changed his ways" so it's really hard for him to comprehend why other people may like her, especially since his own "paternal feelings" are primarily guided by guilt, rather than something more inherently positive. So, of course, anyone who's trying to get close to Annie, must have some nefarious reasoning and ill-intent towards her, so he must protect her now, unlike when he "failed" from protecting her from Marley

Armin is the target of his hatred because he is successfully taking Annie away from him, because hero of the final battle, commander in the army, and an ambassador important worldwide, surely he doesn't have an interest in a "damaged" girl beyond the fact that she's easier to take advantage of

Also, while not a part of BW, I can totally imagine his passive aggressiveness towards anyone (but especially Armin) trying to take Annie away from him if he found out that it was Armin and her friends who put her there in the first place would turn into hostility

This is all my trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, but the characterization I apply the most to Mr Loenhart is the one I have pinned on my blog of him focusing on his own redemption and making up for his mistakes, with being Annie's father till his last day as the only way he could do it and anyone taking Annie from him is dooming him into irredeemably. Though that's more subconscious

[nocturniashifter]

Hi Lucien 💕

I am leaving this review for you and anyone who is considering getting a reading from you. I'm going to be completely honest. I am someone who is a bit sceptical when it comes to readings, but I thought why not give it a go. After all, I have nothing to lose. 😁 First of all, I ordered the whole package about my DR s/o and also the NSFW package and I was overwhelmed because I got it so fast!!!! I really thought I would have to wait longer. I've read everything you wrote a few times now because it was so much and it took me some time to comprehend it all.

Here are some points I would like to share with you and everyone else:

Lucien, everything you said in the reading is exactly what I look for in a relationship and you proved to me with your reading that my s/o is really the one for me. For example, the way my s/o reacts when I'm feeling down or mentally exhausted is exactly what I really appreciate in a relationship.

I never told you anything about my personality, but the way YOU JUST KNEW. I am shocked. There were subtle hints about my personality, for example the traits that only my s/o and I know (one of them being my love language), but you read me like an open book lol 😳

There was something that I didn't even write down in my script, but just had a random thought about it briefly. I was thinking about how I don't need my s/o and that I consciously choose to be with my s/o, but I can be on my own too. I don't need anyone else to feel complete. Then you wrote how incredibly important exactly THAT is to my s/o and that I don't need to rely on anyone to define my sense of self. HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT? I'm really speechless.

My script is pretty short, but YOU even managed to mention a few things from my script that I have never told you about….

And for the NSFW part: I know WE ALL have those little spicy scenarios that run through our heads before bed, and honestly, Lucien, you literally said ALL the things I was thinking and wanted to hear about my s/o. I'm still giggling to myself. I even had to put my phone down twice.

And to all those who are still thinking about ordering a reading from Lucien. Go for it. You definitely won't regret it, I promise.

-Moonbeam 🌙

Hellooo! Thank you so much for your review, it really made my day! I’m really happy you decided to give the readings a shot, especially since you were a bit skeptical. Believe me when I say that I'm as shocked as you are lol, I'm very happy that I managed to read everything as if it were an open book - okay, okay, I admit that I'm spying on your scripts LMAOO /j. And about the NSFW part – I'm so glad it made you giggle, I love when people have fun with that lol. Thanks a ton for recommending my readings! I’m here whenever you want to chat or get another reading <3

[aroyaltailor]

semi-hiatus (vent warning)

Currently failing Spanish 102 and things are not getting better. In a move that I'm sure will surprise none of those who follow this blog, I am going to be taking a hiatus from any writing. Yes, another break! Another hiatus, putting off work on this blog and leaving the replies I owe to rot in my drafts. The words simply do not come out of me, and I'm still struggling with perfectionism that blocks any genuine attempts at getting anything done. I basically have to learn the entirety of Spanish, or at least the relevant information for the class, because if I fail I won't be able to graduate this semester.

It's the same damn thing every time. I've submitted a request for the counseling service provided by my college, but they have a two week waiting period due to the huge influx of students needing mental health help these days. I genuinely believe that I've reached a point where I need professional help with my writing, and that I have somekind of OCD that prevents me from simply writing the first draft without needlessly fussing over every word.

I really didn't want to have to make this post. I was holding on to the hope that things would be alright. I was hoping that everything would be okay. That I'd be able to create legitimate routines, learn how to comprehend Spanish, and that I would be able to have the time to sit back and focus and work on building this blog.

The first exam of the class is next Tuesday, September 10th. I won't lie, I'm basically spiraling at this point. Self-care is at a total minimum, and I haven't really been taking care of my health either. I'm not eating much, both out of lack of hunger and the simple fact that my household doesn't have any food available. Today alone, I've been slouched over the table in the upstairs study rooms of my college, staring at this damned screen all day. Suicidal thoughts, a bit of self-harm with a pen, it feels just as bad as organic chemistry. And the genuine possibility that I might be kicked out the house if I fail Spanish 102 isn't helping matters. I don't really have anyone to talk to either, not in-person at least. Not really even online either, but that's probably too jaded for me to say. Doubt anyone will even read this, but that understandable I guess. Everyone has their own problems, so many people do, and they can't pause and stop when they have their own concerns to deal with, especially for someone that hasn't really produced anything.

Let's just say it isn't getting better. It's not. It's getting worse. I can't be on here as much as I want to, and I'm beginning to think that I've been damaged permanently by what happened to me. My dad had lung cancer, I did everything I could, but that's all I can say about it. Even just typing that sentence has me bawling now.

I'll either pass Spanish 102 this semester or I won't. If I don't, I definitely won't take it well. I'm sorry for everything I've said about how I'd made progress, or that I'd be around to do replies only to post nothing at all. I'm not doing well and haven't been for awhile.

Hopefully things will get better. But then again, I've said that before haven't I? Time will tell. I'm sorry to everyone for the times I've wasted their time with starters or replies I haven't responded to yet. Blog isn't even finished yet, but if I pass I'll try. I promise I'll try.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Epic Novel with Historical Context

Anonymous asked: I'm working on a novel with one of its major themes being historical and transgenerational trauma. I have three main characters in the present day, who are suddenly faced with war. Their fates, natures, and reactions parallel those of their ancestors who lived under WWII, whilst the experiences of their WWII ancestors often mirror the personal, smaller scale backstories and traumas of my main characters. Now, my issue is, I could write this tale in two drastically differing manners. I could cut out the backstories and prolific details of the ancestors, but keep the parallels as the stories of unnamed/unrelated historical figures, making it a shorter, more symbolical tale. Or, I could go the "Victor Hugo direction" and keep everything, including the elaborate family tree of brilliant, vibrant characters that feel too real, and the arcs that go with it. The bigger issue is I don't want to make this into a series or spin-off. I could technically write a whole new book about them, but it would cut them off from their contexts. And I'm afraid if I just mention the characters and give them one or two characteristic scenes, the readers would wonder about the significance of these characters to the main story, which is close to none. Is there a compromise?

[Ask edited for length]

First, thanks for putting the highlights in bold. It did help me comprehend everything. ♥

As for which route you take, it really depends on your situation and intentions with this story. If you're just writing it for yourself and maybe to share with friends, I think you can definitely go the Victor Hugo route and have fun exploring the whole epic story.

If you plan to pursue traditional publishing, you'll have a difficult time finding an agent and/or publisher who are interested in an epic from a debut author. Bigger books are a bigger financial investment, which makes them a bigger risk, and readers are trending toward shorter books anyway. That said, the longer your book, the harder it will be to find a publisher. Right now, the sweet spot for debut authors is around 90k words. Yes, you can certainly go higher than that--and many do--but again, every 10k above that you go, the more you decrease your odds of finding a publisher. No matter what, you would want to try to stay under 150k words or so. Fantasy novels have been known to debut at 200k, but it's really rare and always a case where every single word is absolutely needed.

If you plan to self-publish, you have a little more leeway, but the higher your word count, the higher your base price will need to be. There are also limits on length through various POD publishers. E-books have size limits, but you'd be unlikely to come up against those even with a super epic length book. So... ultimately, if you're okay with self-publishing this book as an e-book only, the sky is the limit in terms of length. That doesn't mean people will buy it, though.

Ultimately, I do think finding a compromise is your best bet, and one way you could do that is by zeroing in on one or a few of the ancestors for the parallel rather than a whole family tree worth of people. If your three characters are closely related--a mom and two children; a grandmother, mother, and child; or three siblings--you could easily focus on just one ancestor belonging to all three of them. If the characters are less closely related or not related at all, you could probably do one ancestor for each of them. And if you want to delve more into the ancestor's stories to explore more of those family trees, you can do a companion novel which isn't a brand new book or a sequel/series, but something in the middle... almost like a spin-off TV show where it takes side characters from one show and gives them their own show.

Happy writing!

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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