#really frail and sickly

[likesdoodling]

Just an au idea I thought up a while ago :D

[meringuejellyfish]

[witchblade]

genuine book of hours review: i like it a lot because of my problems (emotional, psychological), i like that there's no real failstate SO FAR just because it would be so overwhelming with the sheer amount of shit you have to keep track of, i STILL haven't healed my brain injury from reading that one book at the beginning too hard but it's okay guys. um i got an ouppy dog and two snakes which i guess is fine but they're useless to me beyond glaring at me from the garden i put them in. um i ate a potted house plant and it didn't do anything for me but im glad i could do it. it really is just slightly more relaxed cultsim and it has the same bugs as well so it feels really cosy and familiar when i have to load an autosave real quick to keep myself from softlocking because a card got stuck on the board and became uninteractable

[sillylittleshows]

i can’t deal with discourse i need to watch a show that’s last episode aired ten years ago

[adispit]

a short drabble of a sickly (?) master and you, his beloved bodyguard

bttm male reader, feminisation, age gap of 10 years, dubcon, cream pie, overstimulation

note: this is unedited and I’m so tired so uhhh enjoy

He has been pampered since young due to his constant bouts of illnesses, hence his parents, both successful CEOs of a huge corporation hired you when you were 20 to take care of their precious heir who was barely 10.

You just turned 20 back then, desperately looking for a job after your military service and thankfully they hired you! You were rather huge, having gained quite some muscle and beefed up during your time in the army,,,,

When you first saw his sniffling and fragile form in bed, you felt your heart melt! So adorable, you simply just had to protect him! Always catering to his whims whenever he pouts, those big, sparkling eyes turning you soft…Soon, you were more than his bodyguard, always picking him up from school, cooking for him and taking care of his every need.

When he turned 20 and took over his family's business, you were so proud of him. Watching him slowly grow up from a small and frail boy to a capable man, you swore he could almost make you swoon! Unfortunately you were in your thirties now and this job was rather taxing and laborious on you…you were no longer youthful anymore, so you decided to resign and go work a bakery you had been eyeing for quite some time.

He was furious. Demanding that you never leave him no matter what, calling you his "wife"? What was that all about? You had never seen him so angry, absolutely seething with fury…Stuttering out your apology and blabbering, you tried to explain and quickly leave…not before he grabbed onto you with almost inhumane strength.

His grip almost bruisingly tight as he shot you with a gaze that almost seemed to devour you on the spot. Although you towered over him, he seemed to overpower you! Pulling you to a bed in his office, wait, when had been there? He crouches on his knees on the floor, pouting and begging for you to not leave, his eyes shining with a sheen of unshed tears.

Maybe you should stay- No. You had to be firm! He was an adult now and didn't need your protection, you tried to patiently explain. You see him silently shaking as tears run down his face and on cue, your heart softens and you pull him into a hug, trying to comfort him. He chokes out a sob and asks if you could at least let him do one final thing before you leave and you nod. One last time anyway, right?

The waterworks stop suddenly and immediately you’re flipped on your back, the world whirling around you disorientedly. He has an almost feral grin on his face, muttering darkly to himself that you weren’t allowed to leave him as he tears your clothes apart. Confused, you blink at him as he fondles your flaccid cock. You did agree to one last thing…but this was so embarrassing! You were a virgin…never really having done anything sexual since the past few years were spent on taking care of him.

Hot breath brushing against your sensitive tip, you feel blood rush down to your cock as it stiffens up, erect. His pretty face adorned in an amused smile, when had he become so beautiful? Before you can even comprehend what happened, he swallows your member in one gulp. A ragged keen leaves your throat as you involuntarily buck your hips up into his warm mouth. His tongue experimentally swiping over the length as you feel him sucking with a force that leaves your knees weak. You come undone strangled moan, your ropey cum splattering all over his face.

Shame immediately paints your face as you immediately rush to wipe his face, flushing at the obscene sight of his expression. When had he learnt this!? He says nothing, pushing you down against the bed as he peers down at your naked body like a man starved. His warm hands come and fondle your chest, satisfied sighs leaving him as he teases and pulls at your nipples, making you shiver. He calls your pecs, “tits”. An address that leaves you both embarrassed and highly aroused. You try to correct him but only to be cut off by the circular motion of his fingers at your rim.

They push inside immediately, coated with a cold substance, most likely lube. It’s an invasive feeling almost, as his fingers prod inside, unpleasant but full. Suddenly, stars flash before your eyes as your breathing quickens and a tight knot forms in your stomach. His eyes narrow into slits as he relentlessly pushes and pokes at your prostrate, leaving you breathless. Another orgasm overtakes you again as you’re left reeling and trying to collect yourself as you pant wetly. It should be enough for him right? However the telltale bulge that grinds against your twitching hole says no.

He strips, his body pale from staying inside all day long and a lean but muscular physique from both your workout sessions together at the gym. You catch yourself staring a tad bit too long, his body like the starry night, dotted with stars that are his freckles against the canvas that is his naked form. Noticing your piercing stare, he lets out an amused huff, asking if he looks good. You don’t respond, attention now drawn to the pretty cock that lies stiff against his stomach, slightly curving to the right and you swear you see a freckle mischievously peeking out.

It’s thin, not particularly girthy but yours pale in comparison to his in length. You almost forget the boy you raised is now going to fuck you when he grabs your waist, snapping you from your train of thought before thrusting into your waiting hole in one go. You barely register the thin ropes of cum that immediately splatters onto your abdomen as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Loud slaps of skin against yours is accompanied by your hoarse cries and momentary sobs as he mercilessly pounds your prostrate over and over again.

Your walls clench around the burning cock that seems to sear his shape into your hole with his repeated thrusts. Your cum is almost water now with your mouth agape as you wheeze at the tandem of his length driving into you. You’re barely conscious, the burn of the pleasure seems almost discernible as you cry for him to stop. He doesn’t. Hot cum taints your insides as he continues to thrust into you, fatigue no where to be seen, his pace never stuttering.

Soon, you’re just staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes as a momentary twitch or squeal is incited as a response from you from the constant stimulation. You’re gonna die! You cry out in a rare moment of clearheaded despair. He stops and pulls you into a sweaty embrace as you feel hot tears slide down your tear-stricken face. You feel him crying too. Shouldn’t you be crying?! He asks again if you’re going to leave him. Exhausted and out of your mind, you make a mistake you will regret. You nod. His lips pull into a delighted smile and you fall into the welcome embrace of sleep, last thing you hear is the promise that you can’t run anymore. Oh boy.

note: this is my basic indulgence of the trope pretty top x buff bigger bottom 😰 let me know if I should make this into a fic

reblogs are appreciated!!! ^^/

[charliemwrites]

Part 2!

Finally finished moving house so hopefully I’ll be updating semi-regularly again.

Content: brief and non-descriptive explanation of Rasputin’s backstory (injury and illness)

Agatha is over again.

You don’t know why. She doesn’t like you, your cats, or anything as far as you can tell. It seems her primary motivation for talking to you at all is to exercise her role as neighborhood matriarch. She “keeps tabs” on everyone, but especially you - the unmarried woman living alone that keeps odd hours.

A rebellious part of you wants to roll your eyes and make snarky comments whenever she sniffs at your life choices. The same part of you that would make scenes at holiday dinners or slam doors when you were a teenager. That girl has long been smoothed and polished - or maybe just worn down. It’s so much effort to make rude, nosy, traditionalists clutch their pearls. Much easier to smile in their face and do what you want anyway.

Still, that part of you itches at the surface sometimes. Makes your eye twitch.

“I know your generation is different but that’s just not the type of neighborhood we live in,” she’s saying.

You’re a bit foggy from a late night patching plotholes and haven’t registered much of anything she’s said. You really just want to go inside and stare at the TV until words make sense again.

“What do you mean?” you ask, for once not feigning your confusion. But of course this is the one time she doesn’t buy it.

She looks down her frail little nose at you, cornflower blue eyes baleful. You don’t feel scolded, but you sense that you’re supposed to.

“Now you know just what I mean. People will talk.”

People always talk, it’s an unfortunate byproduct of the human condition. Like a deaf bird, you’ve never understood all the chatter.

“Talk about… the buttercups?” you wonder, pointing at the blossoms. You’re quite proud of them actually.

Agatha puffs up and hisses out a breath. “You ought to keep to this side of the street. Away from those men.”

You blink. Men…?

A bang comes from across the street, followed by rough German cursing. (At least you think it’s cursing.)

Ah. Those men.

“I was just welcoming them to the neighborhood.”

It comes out of your mouth automatically, innocent excuses for something you remind yourself you don’t need to justify.

“I’d rather they didn’t feel welcome,” she snips. “Better they sell that awful house and go somewhere else.”

You flick your eyes over her bony shoulder. Konig passes by a window, massive biceps on display as he lifts something outside of view.

“They’re nice,” you say. Nice to look at. Krueger’s face alone quite makes up for his conversational shortcomings.

“The only reason men like that act nice is because they want something,” Agatha snaps. “This is a respectable neighborhood.”

Yeah, soooo respectable when Bertram rifles through your mail or Lisa looks into your backyard.

“Well,” you muse, “better to be on good terms with them, I think. They're not the type you want to piss off.”

That defiant streak lights up at the way her face sours. If only she knew what sort of words you use when it’s just you and the cats.

“You’ve just proven my point. Those are not the type of men young ladies should associating themselves with.”

You have to try very hard not to scrunch up your face. One blessed day, people will stop referring to you as “young lady” in that insufferably condescending tone. You can’t wait for that day.

Some of your mounting irritation must show on your face because she takes on a sickly sweet “teaching” tone.

“Neighborhoods are like gardens. Everything grows best when the rows are kept separate. That’s why the farmers plant them that way.”

You glance pointedly at your own yard, where the flowers are blooming in haphazard sprigs wherever you tossed the seeds. Agatha’s lips get thin.

“Best that you stay on this side of the street, missy. That’s the last I’ll hear of it.”

She spins on her heel and stalks off like a particularly drab bird. You stand on your porch for a second longer, face contorted in annoyed confusion. You don’t even have strong feelings about the three men; the simple act of someone - Agatha of all people - labeling them as “Off Limits” makes them instantly more appealing.

Maybe you should see someone about that or something. Then the pathetic cries of Guy through the window lure you back inside.

It’s nearly sundown when there’s a knock at your door. Still agitated from your talk with Agatha, you puff up like Shithead when Rasputin sits on her favorite toy. March up to the door, fling it open - and come up short when you see the three men looming on your doorstep.

Before you can recover, a little gray blob scrambles past your ankles, crying like the sky is falling.

“Oh!” Konig gasps in pleasant surprise. “Hallo, Bubchen!”

And all 6-foot-plus of Austrian instantly folds to scoop Guy up. You’ve barely managed a now-useless shout of alarm when Shithead wedges her fat head between your calves. Behind you, Rasputin politely screeches his little chainsmoker call.

And somehow, in the chaos of fumbling for furballs, you end up with all three men in your foyer.

Guy is purring away in Konig’s thick arms. Shithead is attempting to scale Krueger’s tight cargo pants. And Rasputin is pawing the air at Nikto, visibly calculating the jump to his wide shoulders.

Which leaves you with the clean serving platter you dropped off just yesterday. You blink at it for a moment, then glance at them.

“So… the cookies were good then?”

“Very good!” Konig rushes to say. Krueger and Nikto each nod, almost comically solemn.

“We have no baking or cooking skills,” Krueger continues, “so tell us what needs fixing.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means. The house. He wants to fix your house. It’s surprisingly sweet, and you laugh a bit, shaking your head. “You don’t need to do that, I was just-“

“Is custom,” Nikto interrupts.

Konig nods with all the enthusiasm of a bobblehead as Krueger crosses his arms. (Whatever effect he’s going for is ruined by Shithead clinging to his pocket and screaming.)

“In our country, we bring gifts as guests. Our gift is repairs,” he explains.

You arch your brows playfully. “I don’t remember inviting you to be guests.”

He arches his brows right back. “We did not invite you either.”

Well shit.

“Okay, okay. I guess there’s a couple things…”

Konig perks up. “We would be happy to help, Biene!”

It’s strange having men in the house. You think you should be more nervous about it, can’t remember the last non-family man allowed into your space. Especially alone.

There’s a sharp awareness, of course. Hard not to be aware of them. It’s not just that they’re big, dwarfing all of your you-sized furniture. There’s a presence to them, something felt but not seen by your untrained eye. Maybe it’s in the set of their shoulders, the way they stand with both boots firmly planted. Maybe it’s the precise way they speak and move, not just separately but as a unit. Acting more like a collective consciousness than as individuals.

Whatever it is, you couldn’t ignore them if you tried. And you’re definitely not trying.

You set Krueger to work on the kitchen cabinet you’ve been meaning to replace. He clicks his tongue at the tape-and-lean method you’ve been using to keep the old one in place. Shithead immediately sets to work helping by gnawing at his shoelaces.

Konig is stationed in the guest bathroom, where the sink doesn’t run right. Guy comes mewing into your arms when he’s set down, effectively tattling that his new friend is mean and awful for withholding affection for even a moment.

You try not to visibly hesitate when you corner yourself in your own laundry room. Nikto has followed you right in, seemingly unaware that he’s invading your personal space. He’s not even looking at you though, eyes zeroed in on the dryer you point to.

“It’s not heating up, so the clothes stay wet or take forever to dry,” you explain.

He grunts in acknowledgement, then nods to Rasputin, who has taken up residence on the washer. His one golden eye blinks slow and serene at the two of you.

“What happened?” he asks.

You hum, softening in pleasant surprise at the question.

“I’m not sure how he lost his eye. It was infected when I found him. But I know for sure the tail and leg are from getting hit by a car.”

You sigh, scratching at Rasputin’s chin. A rusty purr starts up as he tilts his head, revealing some nasty scars around his throat.

“The vet said that that’s probably from a fight with another cat,” you add.

Guy steps from your arms to cuddle up to Rasputin, shoving his face into his ragged ear. Grooming time, then. That’s as good an indication as any that Nikto’s probably safe enough.

“I ran down from an office building to save him.” You blink hard, eyes stinging just from the memory. “But anyway, he gets to rest and be pampered now.”

When you glance up from Rasputin’s happy little face, you almost startle at the sharp blue eyes pinning you in place. Your face feels warm, even though you’re not embarrassed.

“I’ll, um, get out of the way,” you say, clearing your throat. “Keep an eye on things, Ras.”

With the men occupied, you find yourself once again at loose ends. You drift towards the den, but it feels awkward to sit on your ass watching TV while your neighbors fix your house.

You check the time on your phone - ignoring the text from your mother - and figure it’s not too early to start dinner.

“Will I be in the way if I start cooking?” you ask Krueger.

He flicks you a dimissive glance. “A little thing like you?”

You scoff and cross to the fridge. “You could have just said no.”

“Nein,” he snorts.

Rude bastard, you think - though not without fondness, unfortunately. The surly attitude is already growing on you.

There’s meat and spare boxes of pasta and veggies - that’ll work. You start tugging out ingredients, mentally doubling portions for your guests. They look like they work out even beyond the construction labor, hopefully you’ll have enough to satisfy their appetites.

“So what’s the plan with the house?” you ask as you get to work. “Just fixing it up to sell or…?”

“We will live there, the three of us,” Krueger answers. He swipes a screwdriver from Shithead’s batting paws. “Somewhere to stay when we are not working.”

You hum, biting back the next obvious question, loathe to become as nosy as the rest of your neighbors. Still… getting to know people, right?

It sounds like they expect to travel a lot. You can’t imagine them as business types - not in the traditional sense anyway. Though the image of Konig sitting in a tiny cubicle does make you smile a bit. Between their statures, their clothes, their shoes, and the occasional nasty scar, you take a guess.

“Are you guys military?”

“Contractor,” Krueger corrects.

You perk up. “Wait, really?”

He scowls. “Does it sound like a joke?”

You huff and turn back to the veggies you’re cutting. “No, no. I just - you know about guns and knives and things, then?”

He pauses. You shoot him a curious glance, only to quickly look away at the intense scrutiny directed your way.

“Yes,” he answers slowly.

“Then… could you maybe answer some questions…?”

His eyes narrow. “Questions?”

You keep your gaze on the cutting board. “Okay, wait, it's not suspicious. I’m a writer and it’s hard to google very specific questions sometimes. It’s just easier to ask an expert in person.”

Never mind that majority of your readers would never know the difference. It bothers you when things aren’t accurate.

He makes a considering noise. “A writer?”

You flush. “That’s what I do. Why I’m always home? I publish fiction.”

He stands, brushing his hands off on his pants. You peek his way, shocked to see a task you’ve been putting off for weeks already done. Hell, it looks sturdier than the rest of the cabinet doors, too.

“And your fiction requires knowledge of guns and knives and ‘things’?” he asks.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “Sometimes…”

“Fine. I will answer your questions,” he allows.

You beam. “Thank you!”

He grunts, snatches a slice of pepper and pops it into his mouth.

“What else needs doing?”

Dinner ends up much more pleasant than expected. Nikto abstains from eating, you assume because he doesn’t feel comfortable removing his ever-present mask, but he sits at the table with Rasputin in his lap. He speaks little, and has that intense gaze that prickles at your freeze instinct, but you grow used to it as the meal progresses.

Konig, however, becomes chattier with food in his belly. He’s much more forthcoming when he answers your polite and totally casual questions - though you notice Krueger kick him under the table once or twice.

You suppose he gets you back by effectively announcing to the others what your career is. Which just kicks off the usual line of questioning about how and why you got into writing. Still, there’s no judgment from these men that make their living in labors of blood and sacrifice, where you expected censure. You only find genuine curiosity and intrigue, good-natured questions. Not even Krueger makes backhanded comments about it not being a “real” job.

Before you know it, the moon is high and you’re sending the three of them off, bellies full and a little friendlier than before. Nikto nods to you (and Rasputin) as he leaves, a big Tupperware of his dinner portion in hand.

You tell yourself it’s not anticipation that goes through you, knowing they’ll be back with it soon.

Previous | Next

Masterlist

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[lolita-lollipop]

Iron

YANDERE BARBARIAN BAKUGO X READER

The king of the most violent and powerful tribe in the eastern world is captured during battle by a small farmers village. What does a violent man like katsuki bakugo do upon meeting a kind servant girl like you?

WARNINGS: reader gets hurt by villagers (bakugo saves her)

He couldn't remember how long he had been here, he just knew it was cold, dark, unsanitary, and painful. He remembered the battle that put him here, getting shot with a poison-laced arrow, feinting on the field. Heh. imagine it, the great barbarian Bakugo, the children's slayer, the village burner, the soldier slaughterer falling because of one puny arrow from one puny kingdom. When he first had woken up he could feel the slick of his blood under him mixed with the dirt and grime of the cell, he had giant iron cuffs wrapping his wrists and legs, binding him to the floor. He couldn't blame these people, truly, they knew that once he woke up if he were to get out they were all as good as slaughtered.

It was a small stone dungeon, with only a couple of stalls, he occupying one of them. There was a small barred window, along with a wall of iron bars serving as protection from him and the rest of the world. Iron, he hated the stuff, and banned it from his country, it burned him, burned his people. There was a thick, damp smell of blood and rust, a musty smell he could easily recognize as death. He would carve every person in this building up, then burn every building in the village, and he would let the fire spread to their fields and watch as their lives work shrivels up into ash. But for now, He would wait for the perfect time to strike, all he could do was wait really, watch the guard rotation, see which ones were talkative, and which ones were cruel.

Many of the guards would beat him, carve his skin, and watch him bleed, they know of all the gruesome things he has done to so very many people, and supposedly the bastards feel some kind of idiotic vengeance or justice for those people. They would pay in the long run, who exactly do they think they are? he is a king, royalty, the highest of the highest, the strongest too. If he doesn't kill them his people will, they'll see. All the king could do was watch, wait, and plot the splattering of this village.

That was, until you came along.

Little you, in your flowy little skirt that was all torn up, with no shoes and a dirt-covered face. Little you with your oh-so-innocent smile, and your callused hands. Little you with your malnourished body, frail and sickly. Little you, who had no idea who he was. Little you who snuck in when no guard was on duty, a small bowl of soup in your hands, and a cup of water.

“I-im sorry that this is all I have, I know you haven't eaten in a long time I just- I’ll have more tomorrow” you whispered, and he swore he fell in love right then and there, you were too frail, too weak to be giving out food that you surely needed. Yet here you were, shakily handing him the bowl and the cup. He stared at you for a solid second, not even his own mother was this selfless, and you don't even know him. Who were you? You did not seem like aristocracy, too kind, maybe a farmer? Maybe a maid, a servant even.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was, not until the entire bowl and cup were gone, and he was left to stare at you. You were ethereal, dirt-covered and all, your eyes, your hair, your hands, everything, absolutely stunning. You had a look in your eyes. Something hungry and fearful told him that you were not happy, not safe and sound, not as you should be.

“I don't have anything to treat your wound, but- I'm sorry. Nobody should be treated this way, not even prisoners. I'll be back tomorrow, please don't tell the guards that I've done this. They will kill me.” you whispered, cautiously reaching to grab the glassware from his grip, waiting to see if he would snap at you. He didn't, only stared, grunting in response to your plea. You stared back with those sympathetic globes of yours, as if you could see the anger in his soul. Before turning on your heel, and quietly sneaking out of the dungeon room, you gave him one last glance before disappearing.

He was left in the quiet, in the cold, falling head over heels in love with you, a mere human. A peasant at that. Strange. You were too sweet, too kind, you clearly needed the food, clearly were starving and malnourished, yet you still stood here and offered your only food to him, a prisoner of war, you were so sweet. So kind. His people were not like you, they were not soft or sweet, he loved them for it, but you, oh you. You were soft and supple and sweet andso sickeningly kind. He would protect you, he has too.

The next couple of nights went similarly, you sneaking in during the dead hours following midnight with varying foods, sometimes a stale loaf of bread with milk, sometimes some leafy soup and water. He was grateful every time, thankful that he wasn't starving, still burning with absolute rage towards the mere peasants who believed that they could contain him. But you, in the very few days that he had known you, had wormed your way into his heart with your soft hands and pretty smile.

He can just imagine you adorned in stolen jewels and furs, dressed in the finest silk, or better, the clothes of his people. something soft like you, something pretty and supple and shiny and light. Something that reflects you, he would take you out of those rags, clean you up, teach you what luxury truly is. and you wouldnt have to lift a finger. he dreamed about your future everyday that you would visit, asking your favorite color or season or jewel.

That was, until you stopped showing up. No more quiet hours gazing at each other, no more shared food and drink, no more listening to you quietly talk about your life, no more sympathetic glances, no more questions about him from you, no more answers from him. It was like you had disappeared entirely, and back to his old routine of watching and observing the guards had begun once more. He had to admit it kind of hurt, having the only good thing here disappear entirely, he resented this place more, resented you.

He hated you, how could you leave him? You, a servant girl abandoning a king. Funny, hilarious, he sat in a pool of blood and hatred thinking about you, about this town, about the people who put him here, who chained him to the floor and watched him bleed out, this city will burn. And burn and burn and burn and burn and burn, his people would tear it apart until it was nothing but ash and blood-

What tore him out of his internal monologue was a pained scream, but not just anybody, he didn't know anybody in the town, it was yours. With that whispery rasp that you had from overexertion, and that neverending fear that dripped from your tone. He stood up to stare through the small window, only to see you on the ground, surrounded by many people, all bigger and stronger than you, yelling and screaming.

“It's her, the traitor!”

“She has been feeding the enemy, treason, treason I say!”

“She should be beheaded, the traitor.”

You let another scream ring out through the town center as one of the men brought their boot down on your bare foot, he could hear the crunch followed by another scream. The first kick sparked more from other men as they brought their feet down on frail little ou, you slowly reverted into a fetal position, lying in the dirt as they beat you relentlessly. He saw red, crimson blinding him and overflowing all of his senses. How could they? You did nothing, you knew nothing. You were just a sweet, innocent little human who knew no better, who were they to punish you, to beat you so cruelly? You were thin and frail and he could hear each one of your bones cracking and breaking into pieces.

He saw bright ruby red, anger wasn’t the word, absolute rage is a better way to put it.

Red red red red red red red red red

He didn't even realize he had broken from his chains till his legs were moving,

Red

He didn’t even feel the burn of the iron till the bars holding him were bent out of shape and twisted

Red

He didn’t realize they were all dead till his hands were stained with that bright crimson color he loved so much- you guessed it, red

He killed them all, so painfully, knuckles crunching skulls and tearing off limbs, pulling people apart faster than any wolf or bear could even try to. The thrill of freedom mixed with rage and pure anger let him revert to the ways of his homeland, back to the thrilling violence and electrifying feeling of tearing another apart. He enjoyed it, enjoyed tearing them limb from limb and watching them bleed as they had done to him. He cackled as they screamed in terror, relishing in their fear.

You watched deliriously, you had lost too much blood in too short of a time, and you were positive that you had many many broken bones, pain overcame you as you watched the bloodshed in front of you, your vision was blurry and shaking but you could tell that somebody was strong, and enjoying violence. Fear budded in the back of your brain, he was enjoying this, enjoying their pain, he would hurt you just the same, kill you, and relish in it.

You hadn’t known who he was, you swore to the village leaders, swore that you just felt bad for the poor starving man in the dungeons who seemed to gentle and sweet, they hadn’t cared. You were to be burned or drowned or noosed they said. But a death like this, at the hand of a man you had been fooled to be sweet? That was worse. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god you were going to die

Your breath became shallow, both because of what was surely a punctured lung, but also because of the slowly approaching footsteps crunching on the dirt. A small whimper escaped you as the figure towered over you, and your hands came up to shield your face from the blow that was surely to come.

But Instead of a painful ending blow, arms wrapped under you and hoisted you up, you never realized how tall this man was. Naturally, you curled into his warmth and tried not to think about how sticky his hands were with blood. your breath hitched as he squeezed you closer with calloused rough hands. Tears washed down your face, you were quivering, shaking in fear.

“P-please-“ you quivered out. Hand moving up to push him away, your statement had many meanings, to beg for your life, to beg him to put you down, to beg him to leave you and your village alone, to beg him to forgive you. He stared down at you with crimson eyes, a sudden softness overcoming them, more than he thought he could have.

“Don’t you worry baby,

I’ll take good care of ya”

���——————————————————————

Cute

Anyway enjoy, I noticed a lack of barbarian bakugo content on here so I figured I would add some fuel to the fire.

Love you all, make sure to have a great day!

[d3cay1ngst4tic]

contents. suguru geto x gn!reader. obsessive themes. grotesque imagery (<- as always). dark undertones to worship. they’re both equally sick in the head LMFAO.

★ jiah’s notes. so i’m very normal about this. NAE. kisses your knuckles you are soooo smart. i hope you don’t mind me adding my own brainvomit to this well.

deity!suguru, who only ever lets you worship him. treats others like dirt under his feet who deserve nothing but to be scrapped off completely for being utterly, unbearably foolish. you, on the other hand? he’d let you braid flowers in his hair if you asked.

deity!suguru, who finds it amusing how eager you are to take care of him. you can barely keep track of your own meals, yet here you are, tasting each and every fruit to check if they’re sweet or not, only then handing it to him. (<- he doesn't mind how your marks fill the sickly sweetness like some sort of careless claim over him.)

deity!suguru, who revels in your devotion. you’re like a dog who always comes back with a wagging tail, teeth closed ’round shattered bones, with devout eyes which glaze over when a praise or two slips from his cooing lips. oh how he loves the fact that even though his hands reek of blood, you nuzzle into them like something too rapturous to touch— how his divinity is all you see, leaving out the sharp, cracked edges for the other commons to gape and run away from.

deity!suguru, who says nothing but gaze down at you with a sardonic smile when you kiss his knees with bloody lips and hushed prayers on your tongue. he’d said the earlier words with a careless lisp, that even though you’re his most beloved worshipper, you wouldn’t dare kill for him. but here you are, dropping the one he’d wanted dead like some sort of twisted prize at his feet, tilting your head up to look at him with wobbly lips and a burning fidelity in your touch that didn’t flicker once.

deity!suguru, who only ever gives you his blessings— placing his hand on your hair and smoothening out the tangles that’ve built over in your utterly devoted haze, murmuring sweet little nothings into your ears and filling your head with soft, condescending promises. he finds it amusing how your eyes never light up when he blesses you, almost as if you’re hurt by the faintest possibility of wanting something in return— as if the greatest gift that you could ever attain is his holy presence, and nothing else. (he blesses you because you’re the only one who doesn’t crave it.)

deity!suguru, who only sleeps with his head on your lap. your frail fingers run through his hair— he’d never let anyone else touch them— eyes wide in awe, betraying the exhaustion that clings to your bones. he adores it, he really does— the way you look at him as though he’s this unspeakable, unattainable treasure— like a mere whisper of his purity will give you all the salvation you need. (he loves the crippled reverence that stains your hands red.)

deity!suguru, who loves that you always have some sort of excuse for his actions. like he could never do wrong in your eyes. such a naïve little lamb you are, licking the blood off his teeth even though you cough and splutter from the burn in your chest, (choosing to be blind to the fact that it’s not his but someone else’s.)

deity!suguru, who alters your fate without you knowing, so you’d have to worship him in every lifetime. who said gods couldn’t be corrupted? and he’s a little greedy like that— greedy for the reverence you bring that’s a tad bit rough ’round the edges, greedy for your hands on his face when you praise him for the tales of nobility that’d never existed in the first place, greedy for how you tuck your head under his chin and shiver from the overwhelming serenity of his being. he thinks he’ll die if he doesn’t get to be your god all over again.

deity!suguru, who loves, loves being the ache between your bones and the fatal light-headedness of your innocence. <3

original idea by @sugurusladyknightt . added on by @d3cay1ngst4tic. do not copy or post any of my works.

[peggythestrange]

Shen Jiu was the only family Shen Yuan had.

Or it would have been better to say that he was the only family he had in that life.

It didn't matter to him because, after all, after reincarnation, the only brother Shen Yuan knew was his twin. And for the first half of his life, he couldn't even remember he was a transmigrator and spent his days exactly as his brother did.

When they were younger, they had the same childhood and A-Jiu took care of his A-Yuan the best way he knew, protected him, and helped him when he was sick or sad.

A-Yuan was born with a sickly body and frail condition and the actual Shen Qingqiu, the fearsome Shen Jiu, worked so hard to get them out of the awful condition they lived in. Shen Yuan knew it was mostly to prove that he was worthy, but sometimes A-Yuan liked to think that his brother did all of that also for him. This was true indeed, but Shen Jiu would never tell, and Shen Yuan was fine with it.

When the younger twin remembered who he really was, he was so shocked that he stopped talking for a week. And Shen Jiu was so worried he almost thought A-Yuan had been struck by a curse and tried his best to heal him.

A-Yuan eventually started talking again after a while and he promised that he would have saved his brother from his fate. He knew the future. He was ready. The "scum villain" was his family and now he knew he wasn't so evil. He wasn't so easy to deal with, but did not deserve such a horrible death.

His whole life, A-Yuan kept the secret from his brother working on his personality only because he wanted the other Peak Lords to appreciate him enough to forgive his brother's harsh words, and always tried to help him when he was near qi deviating.

His brother. His wonderful, smart twin. He did not deserve his future. He wanted to save him.

Shen Jiu taught him a lot of things. He helped him with his cultivation and helped him learn all the things he needed to know to protect himself when he wasn't around. And A-Yuan tried to reciprocate his kindness by protecting him in the shadows, smiling and acting like the perfect little brother, living a second life behind his brother's back only because he wanted his well-being.

Shen Yuan remembered when A-Jiu taught him to hold his tears because showing their vulnerable side to the world would expose them to danger. And his A-Yuan was so frail and weak that he couldn't afford to fight back.

A-Yuan smiled when his brother wiped his tears and patted his head. It was fine. He didn't need his family to know his double face, because if A-Jiu knew, he would have stopped him too worried that he would get hurt.

He worked his whole life.

He worked all his life.

He worked so hard.

So why.

Why.

Why??

When Binghe came into their life he tried to help him several times and eventually, he grew fond of him preventing his brother from hurting him, he... changed a lot of things in the plot, A-Jiu knew about his special care and affection towards that young man and tried to not show the same hatred he wanted to show.

Shen Yuan always thought that his brother didn't liked him only because Binghe reminded him of when he used to be poor and unlucky. But... but he worked on their relationship and it was tense, but not horrible like it was in PIDW.

So why.

Why.

Why???

What happened? What had slipped through his fingers? What had he forgotten? It was not fair.

He worked his whole life.

Only to kneel in the snow now, looking at Binghe's scary smile, blood all over his face and hands. Not his blood, of course.

A-Yuan chest hurt. His breath was laboured. And between his hands, he was holding A-Jiu's heart still pending. Blood was dripping through his fingers soiling his white robes.

He couldn't believe that.

He couldn't believe something like that happened. And he just could ask why.

Knowing that he was going to be the next victim.

[octagava]

BSD: SUNRISE NAVIGATION POST

About: This is a role and age reversal AU, Atsushi, a former Mafia assassin, saves a suicidal young adult, Dazai, from drowning. Now, not only must he juggle mentoring Dazai, but also keeping his other mentee, Kunikida, safe as the Mafia grows more dangerous than ever.

CHUUYA

Chuuya used to be Atsushi’s mentee back when the older was in the Mafia. But unlike Atsushi, who was groomed into obedience, Chuuya was strong-willed, defiant, and never wanted to be a Mafia tool. However, despite his resistance, he was ultimately forced into the organization, largely because of Atsushi.

For years, Chuuya believed Akutagawa killed him. As the man hated Atsushi enough, and he even claimed being responsible. So Chuuya never doubted it. Until he runs into Atsushi again, alive, working for the ADA, and mentoring not one, but two damn students.

That leaves Chuuya reeling. The betrayal still lingers, but so does the bitter realization that Atsushi got to leave while he stayed trapped in the dark. And the fact that Dazai and Kunikida (Especially Dazai. He hates Dazai), Atsushi’s newest student, exists at all? That just makes his resentment burn even stronger.

AKUTAGAWA

Akutagawa and Gin were orphans, just like in the original. They had a small group of friends, barely scraping by until one night, the Mafia tore it all away. His friends were slaughtered. And Akutagawa, in a desperate, rage-fueled retaliation, barely managed to kill the men responsible before collapsing from exhaustion.

That’s when Kyouka and Atsushi found him.

For some reason, Kyouka took him in. And where Akutagawa went, Gin followed.

At first, he hated the Mafia. He hated everything about it. They took everything from him. But somewhere along the line, in a twisted way, he found his reason there.

One thing, though. He never got along with Atsushi.

Mori kept pairing them up, but they were like oil and water. Atsushi was too soft, too merciful, too weak, and Akutagawa refused to be second to someone like him. The competition was fierce, their clashes constant. No matter how strong Akutagawa got, Atsushi was always in his way.

Then Kyouka died. And Atsushi left.

Akutagawa caught him in the act. Tried to stop him. Failed.

And yet, in a moment he still doesn’t fully understand, he covered for him. Let everyone believe he killed Atsushi with his own two hands.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That it was for the best.

Then he sees him again.

And everything he buried? That ugly, seething resentment? Yeah, it comes back full force.

NOTES:

When it comes to Chuuya’s design, I wanted to keep it somewhat close to the novel's appearance while also making sure it felt unique to this AU. Because of that, in the end, I settled on a more strawberry-blond-leaning ginger hair and brown eyes (like in the covers of the novels), with blue specks that give him a dark greenish eye color overall. I took a lot of inspiration from both age 15 Chuuya and his Dragon’s Head Conflict design, which resulted in the red hoodie and dark green jacket.

I especially wanted to make sure Chuuya looks good and fashionable while incorporating more of his tough looks. His haircut was also a recent addition, as he cut it after the death of his close friends about a month ago (for reference, this is about a month before the "start" of the story, where Atsushi meets Dazai).

When it comes to Akutagawa, he stayed somewhat the same? Still rocking that Victorian orphan style. Sadly, I am always unable to do my man justice </3.

In this AU, he wears more layered clothes, a white classic shirt, a black vest, and on top of that, something like a frilly shrug blouse or shrug bolero. Plus a huge black coat. So, like always, he's fancy as fuck.

I also wanted to make sure he looks much more frail and sickly, so he's really pale, has bags under his eyes, and overall looks lanky and a bit sunken.

[isagrimorie]

One thing I want clarification on. Did Agatha use other witches' life forces to prolong Nicky's life?

Nicky's colicky and maybe sick, and they both haven't eaten for days. I don't think Agatha could produce a lot of breast milk because of that.

If Nicky had grown up, would he have inherited Agatha's siphon powers?

After that, Nicky's settled and even looks a little better.

Six years later, Agatha uses Nicky to lure unsuspecting witches to kill them, but they comment on how sickly and frail Nicky looks:

Then later, Nicky asked Agatha why she killed witches:

How does killing unsuspecting witches help you survive, Agatha? Or how does killing witches help Nicky survive?

And why does Agatha say that witches would kill them if they stayed long in their company?

The one time they don't kill witches when Nicky is sick... was the time Rio fetched Nicky from Agatha.

Nicky was not alarmed by Rio's presence and even went to her willingly without a fuss. This tells me, that when Agatha is not around, Rio and Nicky have met. Enough for Nicky to go to Rio without hesitation.

Rio reminds Nicky to say kiss Agatha goodbye.

Agatha loved Nicky so much.

Agatha can't heal, not for long. She can just stem the bleeding.

might have been right, if they stayed with a coven they could be safe and the coven could help Agatha with Nicky. But Agatha let her mistrust and fear of her fellow witch rule her.

Agatha and Nicky had six years. Really, though what is six years in the 350 years Agatha lived? A drop in a bucket. But it's a wound that's never healed because Agatha refuses to even process that grief.

Ghost!Agatha claimed that the Ballad she and Nicky created didn't mean anything.

The self-delusion and the lie. 'The song doesn't mean anything. It never did.'

The hugest of lies.

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | i.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Bitterness burns in your gut as you watch the yellowed pages of one of your favorite books curl and blacken amidst the weak flames of the hearth.

You want to cry. You really do. But it wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last. The winters of District 8 are infamously harsh and long.

You wouldn’t have survived it. So you stare with dry eyes and an empty chest as your childhood memorabilia turns to ash.

A wheezy cough tears through your melancholy. Panic rips through you as you get up and whirl. You dash to a small bed across the room and hunker down near your cousin.

You hold her hand, despising how tiny and feeble it feels in yours. 

It wasn’t always like this. She used to drag you around the cabin, eager to play, her high-pitched laugh bouncing off its molded walls.

Tears you managed to quell before now rush to your eyes.

You cup her face. Sickness has drained the color from it.

“You’re gonna get better, I swear.”

She gives a weary smile, but it’s interrupted by another fit of wet coughs that makes her entire frail frame shake. Your stomach plummets at the sight. Even you struggle to believe the words that crossed your own lips.

Everyday your younger cousin seems worse off than the one before it. Her medicine has long since run out. So has the food. Your modest wages from working in the factory won’t come for another fortnight. And there are little to no wares left to trade in the rickety wooden cabin. 

Nothing except you. 

The mere thought sends a shudder through you.

Though the virtue of some lowly district 8’s guttersnipe isn’t worth much, you bet you could easily find a buyer. A warm body is as good as any after all. Besides, you haven’t missed the lascivious glares wandering your way sometimes when you hasten through the streets of the city at night. 

You shake your head.

No.

While your virtue isn’t worth much in this awful world, you will hold on to it for as long as you can. Some modicum of dignity. Maybe it’s too much to ask for someone like you, too…greedy. But it’s the one thing you get in this life. Your one gift. You belong to yourself and no one else.

“Hungry…” your cousin whispers between pained exhales. The orange glow from the chimney outlines the sickly grayness of her skin and the sweat dotting her forehead.

You squeeze her hand, rubbing her fingers against yours. Maybe some of your warmth will seep into her. You can only hope.

“I know, Tilly… but there isn’t any food left anymore.”

At the mention of food, your shriveled up stomach reminds you of its unfortunate existence. Hunger twists your insides, vicious and relentless. As always.

Determination sparks inside you, tiny embers shifting into a furnace of iron hot will.

You rise to your feet. 

Tilly will not die. You will not die.

You plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Her eyes flutter closed as she drifts away, her glassy gaze finding the cracks and webs scattered across the ceiling.

She seems to look at nothing at all. It worries you. Tilly’s all you have left, the rest of your family having succumbed to disease, failed uprisings or some accident at the factory.

“I promise to bring food, and something to cure your cold.”

A cold. 

Another lie. For her or for you… who knows this time. Deep inside, you’re aware no common cold lasts this long or is this nasty. 

But you cling to the lie. Because you need it. Because without it you have nothing. 

Nothing to wake up for, nothing to go work another unending, grueling day at the textile factory, nothing to suffer another day in the hell that District 8 is. 

A few minutes later, you’re at the door. 

Outside, the winter winds swaddle you in their cool embrace. White clouds surround you as you unleash a deep breath. Through the thin soles of your shoes, you can feel the icy stones with each step. You slither through the narrow alleys, hood low on your brow as you ponder the plan you hatched less than an hour ago. 

It’s beyond stupid. You could get thrown in jail if caught. Or worse. 

But what else is there to do? 

You’re past the age to sign up for tesserae, and you’d never subject your cousin to the disturbing possibility of being chosen in the next reaping just to fill your stomach. 

You finally reach the grand marketplace. It’s crowded with folks, like every morning. You remain hidden by a brick wall, a strategic spot where shadows engulf you, where you can survey the place as you wish. The perfect way to begin enacting your stupid plan. 

Anticipation has your fingertips twitching against the stones.

You note how easy it’d be to mingle with the crowd, how some of the merchants don’t keep a perpetual eye on their wares.

And most importantly, you note the lack of peacekeepers. You squint, seeking a glimpse of the terrifying blue uniforms. Disbelief flutters through you at the realization none of them is here.

Such a chance never presents itself…yet it’s prancing right before you today. 

As your eyes land on a luscious spread of colorful fruits sitting on a stand a few feet away, your mouth waters.

How easy it would be.

When’s the last time you ate anything solid? You can hardly recall.

Slow, ginger steps drag you right before the stand. Busy chatting with a customer, the merchant doesn’t see you. 

Hope blooms inside you. This is your shot. You just need to be quick, so quick he won’t even notice before you’re long gone.

Your tremulous hand creeps out of your coat. The uproarious drumming of your heart fills your ears, louder as your fingers get closer to the tantalizing skin of the fruit.

Just a few inches. 

“What are you doing, little bird?” 

Startled, you release a sharp breath. Long, pale fingers cinch around your wrist, causing you to drop the fruit. It hits the wet cobblestones with a soft thud, sending your hopes crashing down alongside it.

You whirl to the stranger beside you.

“You little thieving whore…”

Numb with fear and shock, the merchant’s irate curses dwindle to a faint echo. 

The stranger’s towering frame forces you to lift your gaze to the sky, and you are met with eyes bluer than its expanse. 

Lost in his unsettling stare, you take entirely too long to notice his uniform. The gear is unmistakable. You have threaded your fair share of the fabric over the years, sewn hundreds of uniforms just like the one before you.

A peacekeeper. 

A wave of snow ripples through your back. 

Your entire body turns to stone in his grip, your eyes as wide as plates.

This is exactly what you feared would happen. And now it has.

As stormy irises take you in, you see your miserable life melt in a smoldering sea of blue.

Run.

It’s the only thought in your head as you jerk your hand away from his fingers.

Your body leaps into action, adrenaline pumping through your veins. White puffs of your short breaths flow around you as you dive into the nearest dark alley, hoping to disappear through a drain hole and lose your pursuer. 

But you don’t get far. 

Only a few minutes into your panicked race, the hard sole of a boot connects with the back of your knee. A shriek of pain tears from your throat as you tumble to the floor. 

Wincing, you lift your head.

The tall, lanky figure of the peacekeeper looms over you. Your chest seizes. He holds up the bright red fruit you tried to steal in his right hand. Sunlight limns his frame, threading silver in his white hair, making him appear almost angelic.

How deceptive when he is your doom.

If it weren't for him, you’re convinced you’d have gotten away with it. 

“Hey, I think you forgot this,” he deadpans.

Your brows knit at his casual tone. You wonder if he’s toying with you.

“Please, I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Mirth illuminates his cerulean gaze as he scoffs, “So you meant to pay?”

Unsure what to respond, you choke on your words.

“I…”

Silence expands, its oppressive weight clogging your airways. 

You could lie, or try to. But he saw you, stopped you. He knows exactly what you attempted to do.

So instead of stating your case, you bolt to your feet. Ignoring the needles pricking at your knee where he kicked you, you attempt to flee again.

This time it’s barely seconds before he catches you.

He picks you up and slams you against the wall with frightening ease. Fighting him would be for naught. There is no strength left in you. Still, you try.

The pitiful attempts to claw at his bicep leave the peacekeeper unfazed.

His deathly grip on your neck doesn’t relent.

“Where do you think you’re going, birdie?”

“Please, my cousin needs me.”

He studies you and your stomach sinks at how empty his eyes are. An errant tear makes a slow descent down your cheek.

He plucks it, the soft pad of his finger tracing the salty trail.

“Stop crying. I’m not like them. You can trust me.”

“You’re a peacekeeper,” you retaliate, forehead creased in confusion. Peacekeepers exist to enact the Capitol’s will by any means necessary. Their name couldn’t be more misleading, as peace is rarely how they go about solving an issue. 

The blond’s cheek flares ever-so-slightly.

To your utter shock, his hold on your neck slackens.

You gulp a wide lungful of air, rubbing your throat where he held so tight. It’s sore. You wouldn’t be surprised if it were to bruise the next day. 

“My name’s Coriolanus. What’s yours?”

While he backs away, he’s still crowding your space in a way you don’t like. 

Stubborn lips remaining sealed, you glare at him. He steps away from you.

“You don’t want to say?” The corner of his plump lips twists upwards. “I’ll keep calling you bird then, since you keep trying to fly away from me.”

You gasp when he suddenly tosses the crimson fruit in your hands.

“Eat.”

His steely inflection is more order than suggestion. You scowl down at the fruit. Every cell in your body longs to take a bite of it…but you don’t.

“What?” you reply dumbly.

It has to be some kind of trap. Is the apple even safe to eat? Maybe this peacekeeper is the sadistic type and he wants to watch you wither in agony for his sick pleasure.

Still, the longer you peer at the luscious, colorful flesh of the fruit, the more your stomach growls, begging you to just take a bite even if it means running headlong towards your possible death.

Coriolanus heaves out a deep sigh.

“I can tell from the way you were eying that apple earlier that it’s been a long time, right?” he guesses, all too accurately for your liking.

His gaze holds yours.

“I know what it’s like to be hungry, sweet bird…” You go statue-still as he bends over to whisper in your ear, “So hungry, you’d do anything for it to stop.”

The faint scent of roses tickles your nose. You smelt it once before, on a lavish dress you spent hours sewing meant for one of the fancy ladies at the Capitol. You recall shoving the tiniest piece of the silk in your pocket and smelling it every chance you got. But the nice scent quickly faded.

Yet that same scent, that crisp, delicate, slightly dizzying aroma…It clings to the boy in front of you.

You glower at him.

“How would you even know? You’re one of them.”

His jaw ticks as his eyes flicker.

“Eat,” he insists, this time more firmly.

Your insides wrench. You could fight him on it, again. But you have an inkling that this boy, this Coriolanus, usually gets his way.

So you bite into the apple. 

The sweet juice that coats your tongue and chin afterwards is heaven. The savors explode in your mouth. You could weep. It’s been an eternity since you ate something this fresh and delicious.

But once you realize his curious stare is on you, you stop eating and hastily wipe your mouth and chin. 

“See? Isn’t it better?” he inquires smugly.

You don’t tell him how good it felt, especially after so long. Days, maybe weeks. You don’t know anymore. Every day tends to blend into the other here.

Instead, heated words pour out of you.

“Why are you helping me?”

He shrugs. “Why not?”

You don’t like his cryptic demeanor. Nor his nice smell. Nor his striking eyes. Nor his sharp, handsome features.

Everything about Coriolanus seems so out of place in District 8.

After a few minutes of silence, he nods and walks away.

“See you around, sweet bird.”

A shiver travels along your spine.

You wish for the opposite, to never ever see him again. And though the words never escape the confine of your lips, it’s as if he could hear the unspoken venom sizzling the tip of your tongue.

Coriolanus smiles at you as he leaves.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hello first timer here, Can I request for hcs for Gojo, Nanami and Choso wherein their frail darling manages to escape but not so far because they end up getting a fever from all the stress

No Escape

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

REQUESTS: OPEN

warnings: obsessive behavior, kidnapping, delusional mindset, choso breaks your leg

taglist:

If you would like to be added to the SFW Yandere!JJK taglist, please comment a ❤️(red heart emoji). You must have your age in your bio and have a tagable/mentionable blog!

Yandere Prompt List

Gojo

-He doesn’t keep you too locked up considering you’re not very strong, even a bit frail.

-You are usually left alone in his home when he’s busy, just with the front door locked. He’s already made you well aware that no matter what you do, he’ll always find you

-Unfortunately, you’re tired of being imprisoned and want to go outside. It wasn’t your attempt to escape really, you just wanted some fresh air and time in the sun.

-You didn’t expect it to be so cold. You only had on a pair of socks and slippers, along with a tshirt and pajama pants. As you walk around, you notice how out of the way your “home” is. Even if you wanted to run to someone for help, you couldn’t. If you did happen upon someone, Gojo may just kill them for trying to help you.

-After walking for 30 minutes, you collapse in the snow from fever. It doesn’t take long once Gojo comes home for him to find you. He’s nearly distraught with worry, taking you back to his home and calling Shoko to come take a look at you.

-When you wake up, instead of a punishment or yelling, he pulls you into his arms. This is the first time you’ve seen Gojo cry. “Please… never worry me like that again. I was terrified that I lost you…”

Nanami

-Now, even despite your condition, Nanami is much more careful keeping you confined and safe. It’s almost obsessive with the way he fawns over you, making sure you’re comfortable yet also being gator you’re not very capable of escaping.

-Even though you’re treated well, being locked up is boring. One day, you decide to attempt an escape, wanting your freedom.

-You don’t get very far before you collapse, your frail body and midn too stressed to continue. When Nanami finds you, he picks you up as gently as possible and carries you home.

-for your bad behavior you’re now forced to wear a chain on your ankle when he leaves, but to nip the problem of your boredom in the bud, he allows you to watch TV and buys you new books to keep your mind occupied. Nanami isn’t evil and he knows what he’s done to you is wrong, so he tries to be understanding and keep you comfortable.

-He is more cautious and paranoid for the next few weeks though, barely leaving you home alone for more than thirty minutes. It’s not that he thinks you’ll actually have a successful escape attempt, no, he doesn’t want you to get yourself hurt from over exertion.

Choso

-You are very much infantilized by Choso. He treats you like a sickly child, trying to feed and bathe you when you’re feeling tired. He never thought you would even think of escaping his grasp. In his mind, you desperately need his care and attention to survive.

-So when he finds you collapsed in the middle of the woods a few yards away from the small cabin he put you in, let’s just say he goes full on insane with worry and stress.

-He carries you back of course, making sure your fever is down before he settles on what he’s going to do. Choso’s delusional mind has been confronted with the fact that you’re not as innocent and frail as he thought. He’ll need to take drastic measures to insure you don’t get out again.

-he has tears streaming down his face when he breaks your leg, sobbing out apologies while you scream in agony. “So sorry princess, it’s for your own good, I promise. Shh, shh, don’t cry. It won’t hurt for much longer.”

-He has always called you princess, but after breaking your leg you are treated like one more than before. He does everything for you, making sure you take your pain medicine and eat well. Choso even bathes you, and is glad to see your need to escape vanish once you’re all healed. He only has to remind you of this experience when you’re being bratty once for you to fall in line.

-Choso hates that you fear him, but he’s happy you’re more compliant now. It means you’re safe, and if he has to be the villain to maintain your safety, so be it.

[yourownutopia]

Chapter 3: "The Price of Protection"

When the Shadow Monarch adds you to his ranks, he has no idea what he's in for. Not only are you uncontrollable, but you also harbor a secret that even the System keeps hidden from him. As he searches for a way to bring you under control, it becomes clear that your existence exposes a flaw in the perfect structure of the shadows—one that no one could have foreseen. Why don’t you yield to his will, and more importantly, why doesn’t the System want you to remember? [Jin Woo x fem! shadow! reader]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Chapter Index :

[Prologue], [1] ,[2] , [3ʰᵉʳᵉ]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Song: Shadowborn - Hiroyuki Sawano

Calm before the storm - It's me they all are coming for

Be my shadowborn

We're back to take the pain - My soul is indestructible

I steal you from the grave - So cursed to be a slave

»»———-»--•--«———-««

make sure to read the previous Chapters!

Notes: I want to clarify that English is not my first language. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes or if I sometimes use incorrect word

Hey there! Sorry for the long wait T-T I went through a creative slump and just couldn’t come up with anything good! I hope you still like the new chapter though <3

Chapter 3: The Price of Protection

"[Y/N]!!" The voice rang muffled in her ears, the pain in her head sharp and unpleasant. Why did this feel like déjà vu? Only this time, it wasn’t a warm voice warning her—it was a worried one, belonging to none other than Jin-Woo, who was supporting her upper body and calling her name again and again. What had happened?

-‘๑’-

"Arise."

Jin-Woo’s voice vibrated softly, ominously, as the word left his lips. The way he said it sent chills down [Y/N]’s spine. Her whole body reacted instinctively, the fine hairs on her neck standing on end. Her grip around Baruka’s Dagger tightened ever so slightly. She felt it before she even saw it—the way the energy in the room shifted, the electricity in the air, just before the floor gave way to an ocean of black, inky shadows from which Jin-Woo’s army began to rise. Hundreds of creatures emerged from the darkness, their forms slowly taking shape. Right next to [Y/N], Igris rose from the shadows, while Beru—the Ant King—materialized beside Jin-Woo, clicking his claws menacingly. Perhaps it was due to their shadow connection, but [Y/N] could feel the raw desire of the other shadows to serve their master. Even though she knew just how powerful Jin-Woo was, she could barely believe her eyes as she looked around his army - and found herself locking gazes with Igris. His expression—or what passed for one beneath those glowing eyes—remained unreadable. But for a split second, [Y/N] sensed it… that piercing glance of doubt he threw her way. It wasn’t telepathy. Not really. It was more like… she knew what the others were thinking.

Aeternus watched it all unfold, and despite his skeletal, expressionless face, there was calmness about him. With a twitch of his bony index finger—frail, almost sickly—his soldiers began to move.

[URGENT QUEST: DEFEAT THE ENEMIES] [There are enemies nearby who intend to kill the player. Eliminate all threats and secure the player's safety. If you fail to comply, your heart will cease to beat. Enemies remaining: 426 Enemies defeated: 0 ]

The system window floated in the air in front of [Y/N] and Jin-Woo. No one else seemed to notice the transparent interface—none of the shadows, at least. But it clearly told [Y/N] that she would die if Jin-Woo did. It made sense—if he died, the shadow extraction would vanish too—but the realization that her life was entirely bound to his felt bitter. Her eyes flicked to the black-haired monarch, who was already preparing to attack. The tension in the air was almost tangible. His eyes had changed color, his aura colder—sharper, almost slicing through the atmosphere. A shiver ran down her spine. This wasn’t Jin-Woo’s aura anymore. This was the Shadow Monarch’s. But this time, that crushing presence wasn’t directed at her—it was focused solely on Aeternus, whose army was already on the move. [Y/N] adjusted her grip on her dagger and took half a step forward— —only for Jin-Woo’s arm to block her path.

"This fight isn't yours" Jin-Woo said sharply, not even sparing her a glance. His voice was low, serious—carrying an authority that allowed no argument. [Y/N] parted her lips, but no words came out. Something in his tone held her back. She wanted to protest, to fight by his side, to prove herself… But Jin-Woo was already moving. In a flash—so fast the normal eye could barely keep up.

The moment their powers clashed, she realized the truth—she wouldn’t have stood a chance.

The first impact shook the very structure around them. The ground trembled beneath her feet as Jin-Woo charged at Aeternus with inhuman speed. His shadows danced like flames in a storm, his silhouette blurring in the chaos of darkness. Aeternus rose slowly—measured, dignified—as though he had all the time in the world. Runes glowed along his bony chest, and a thunderous boom echoed through the chamber as he raised his arms and conjured a magical barrier to block the Shadow Monarch’s strike.

The resulting shockwave was massive, tugging at [Y/N]’s clothes and nearly knocking her off her feet—if not for Igris, who stepped in front of her protectively. The dark knight had driven his sword into a crack in the floor, his cloak whipping wildly, the metal of his blade groaning beneath the immense power of his master. Jin-Woo moved in jagged zigzags through the air, slamming relentlessly into the magical barrier.

[Y/N] saw nothing but blinding flashes of light and cascading shadows leaving tears in the air. The raw energy between the two combatants was overwhelming. Every blow, every movement shattered the floor, extinguished runes—or reignited them in furious bursts of magic. She held her breath for a second. And when she looked again, her [E/C] eyes widened in awe. She stood frozen, unable to look away from the infernal duel. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from sheer reverence.

Jin-Woo was faster, more precise—a storm of darkness and steel. But Aeternus was immovable, like an ancient law of nature that refused to bend.

Each of his movements carried millennia of experience, and the magic surrounding him followed no known rules of mana or logic.

“You are in the way.”

The strange voice snapped [Y/N] out of her trance. She turned her head—only to see the massive ant pushing aside one of the skeletal soldiers, his claws clicking ominously.

"THE ANT CAN TALK?!" [Y/N] exclaimed in disbelief, jumping to Igris’s side. He cast her a sidelong glance, and strangely, she felt safer near him than that insect.

Beru looked offended by her blunt comment, his antennae twitching. "Useless female", he said coldly. [Y/N]’s eyes narrowed. What the hell did that pest just say?

She opened her mouth to fire back, but before she could, Beru leapt past her—straight at a soldier who had tried to ambush her from behind.

The ant tore the skeletal warrior apart effortlessly, clearly enjoying himself in a grotesque display. That’s when [Y/N] noticed the floating name above his head.

[Beru. Rank: General]

The question of why he could speak could wait. Beru turned back to her, green blood dripping from his claws.

"How about not standing around, useless half-shadow?" he hissed, moving forward again. "Let’s see if the rest of the battlefield finds you worth the trouble."

That was apparently enough for Igris, too. He turned to engage in battle—but [Y/N] stopped him in his Tracks.

"We have to support Jin-Woo" she said, glancing at the chaos still raging nearby. The structure continued to tremble under the sheer power of their clash.

Beru let out a sound that almost resembled a laugh—but wasn’t.

"Show some respect to our master. If he doesn’t call for us, we have no place there" , he replied coldly before vanishing into the fray.

[Y/N] wasn’t so sure. How could Beru be so certain?

Her gaze flicked from the two blurred figures locked in combat to Igris—almost pleading, as if silently asking for his opinion.

But the knight only spared one last glance toward his master… …and then turned and followed Beru into battle. [Y/N] was torn. On one hand, she understood why the two were acting this way – it was their Master's command – but on the other hand… But she couldn’t finish the thought as the ground trembled once more and the two Monarchs clashed. Shaking her head, [Y/N] muttered: “Nope, definitely not.” She didn’t belong there. Spinning on her heel, she followed Igris, swallowing the lump in her throat. These soldiers weren’t as easy to defeat as the spider creatures, and yet – despite her racing heart and the uncertainty she felt – there was something else that grew within her as her eyes swept across the shadow army. Confidence. She had a feeling that, together, they wouldn’t have too much trouble destroying Aeternus’ army.

With fire in her chest, her grip tightening around Baruka’s Dagger, she picked up her pace and threw herself into the battle.

Number of Enemies defeated: 57

With every passing minute of the battle, the counter of defeated enemies increased. The room was filled with smoke, rubble, and the continuous sounds of combat between the shadow soldiers – and not to forget, Jin Woo and Aeternus. But the thick cloud of dust made it nearly impossible to see anything more than glowing flashes of light.

Number of Enemies defeated: 109

[Y/N]’s attention, however, was focused on her own fight. Her steps were light yet deadly as she darted back and forth between enemies, repeatedly striking them with her dagger – only to spin on her heels after landing to strike the next one.

Number of Enemies defeated: 211

It was a strange sight – she moved with such grace and deadly precision, as if she had never done anything else in her life. Mana surged through her veins, and her [H/C] hair whipped through the air as she jumped from the back of one of the bone soldiers and landed calmly on her feet. Her breath was fast but not uncontrolled, her heart pounded hard in her chest, and a bead of sweat sparkled on her forehead.

“At least you’re still alive. Or something like that” [Y/N] suddenly heard a deep voice beside her. Her head snapped around just as Beru landed next to her, retracting his wings and looking at the young woman who straightened herself up and wiped the ‘blood’ – a strange green goop seeping from the bone creatures – from her blue dagger. Beru’s tone was mocking, and yet [Y/N] figured that this was probably his way of giving a compliment? “Uhm… yeah?” she replied, glancing at the transparent window hovering in front of her.

Number of Enemies defeated: 345

“Not too many left…” she murmured, more to herself than to Beru, as her eyes scanned the battlefield. Not just the soldiers – even the shadows had thinned out considerably. She had no idea what happened to the shadows when they were “killed.” In the distance, Tusk was currently blasting one of the bone creatures away with a fireball, the heat hitting her face and sending her hair flying – only to be cooled again by the chill of the room.

“Do you hear that?” Beru asked, his antennae twitching slightly. She had been so engrossed in the fight, she hadn’t noticed anything around her. At his words, she paused and listened. There was nothing unusual.

“No,” she finally responded, about to get back to work when the realization struck her. Aside from the sounds of the few remaining shadows, it was silent – far too silent. She had been so focused that she hadn’t spared a single thought for Jin Woo and Aeternus, whose mana was still present – but less overwhelming than before. But she couldn’t see anything trough the thick dust. Without thinking, [Y/N] took a deep breath and yelled in the opposite direction:

“TUSK, PLEASE BLOW THE SMOKE AWAY!” Her voice was so shrill that Beru tried – unsuccessfully – to cover his ears with his arms. Tusk just stared at her, puzzled, which [Y/N] responded to with a deep sigh. He was… clearly not the brightest star in the sky.

She looked around and suddenly an idea hit her. A stupid one – a really idiotic one she should’ve discarded immediately, but right now, she didn’t care. With a precise throw, she hurled her dagger, hitting one of the bone soldiers squarely between the eyes – not enough to kill it, but enough to get its attention.

It turned to her, its eye sockets glowing as it yanked the dagger from its cracked skull, now bearing a narrow hole. It looked… angry. Very angry. It immediately shifted its target and charged at [Y/N], who turned and ran – straight toward the dust cloud that blocked her view. She had no weapon now – so all she could do was run and hope her plan worked. Taking a deep breath, she sprinted across the room, debris crunching under her feet.

“TUUUUUSK HELP ME PLEASE!!” she screamed, glancing behind her to see if he finally understood this time.

The red giant turned his head slowly in her direction, his eyes resting on her for a moment before spotting the enemy chasing after her. Without hesitation, he raised his hand, and a massive fireball launched toward them.

[Y/N]’s eyes widened – she had definitely underestimated the sheer firepower. The bright flame reflected in her eyes for a split second before she dove forward in a desperate leap. The fire blazed past her – the heat singed a few of her [H/C] strands and the blast wave slammed her onto the stone floor.

Number of Enemies defeated: 346

She landed hard on her side, sliding several feet across the ground before coming to a stop, clutching her aching head.

“...ow” she muttered, opening the eyes she had instinctively shut during the impact.

Without hesitation, she pushed herself back up. But when she looked toward the dust cloud that had just cleared, her breath caught in her throat.

Jin Woo’s arms were shaking slightly as he pushed both his daggers against the Monarch’s scythe, which he held back with near-effortless ease. His clothes were torn, scratches marred his skin – soot and grime covered him head to toe, with black strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes glowed purple, and [Y/N] could feel the tremble of his mana. She now noticed the trembling of her own body, which seemed to respond to his current condition. Nothing was decided yet, but a sense of dread settled in her stomach.

Jin Woo stared into the hollow eyes of the Monarch, who looked back emotionlessly. His mana was draining with each passing minute, and his fatigue bar was fillinh. He felt himself slowing down, just barely. There had to be something – an opening, a weakness – but this opponent wasn’t like the others. He gave him no chance to land a heavy counterattack. Jin Woo’s thoughts raced, searching for a way to end the fight. But right now, he saw no way out. An unspoken truth hovered on the tip of his tongue.

“We are equals.” His eyes widened for a brief moment as the voice echoed his thoughts. Again, he heard that strange combination of bones cracking and leaves rustling. A voice that was neither male nor female. The Shadow Monarch’s eyes narrowed at Aeternus’ words.

“That’s what you were just thinking, isn’t it, Shadow Monarch?” There was no emotion in the voice, yet Jin Woo could’ve sworn he sounded amused. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you.”

He raised his free arm, a beam of blue light forming rapidly in his palm. Its intensity increased at alarming speed. Again with that? Jin Woo had already dodged this attack before. Why would this time be any different—

“I don’t play fair.”

His eyes barely widened as he heard the words and realized Aeternus wasn’t aiming at him. His gaze darted sideways – the battlefield lay in clear view now. [Y/N] stood not too far away, directly in the line of fire.

He wouldn’t— “[Y/N]! GET OUT OF THERE!” he shouted.

[Y/N] froze in her tracks and stared at the bright light aimed directly at her. “Huh?!” she gasped, just as Jin Woo came into view, having stepped back. He now stood in her line of sight, holding his daggers protectively in front of her.

But Aeternus aborted the beam and instead launched an unexpected strike with his scythe, as if that had been his plan all along. Jin Woo couldn’t dodge in time and was knocked backward. With a groan, he crashed into [Y/N], sending her flying to the ground as well.

For the second time in mere moments, she found herself on the floor – only this time, she felt the crushing weight of Jin Woo partially across her legs, and the air knocked from her lungs.

“Ahhh…” she groaned in pain as she sat up and realized what had happened.

“Jin Woo!” she cried, her voice laced with worry as she reached for his shoulder – only to be stopped by his sudden movement. He was already back on his feet – showing no clear signs of weakness. But [Y/N] could sense his exhaustion and saw the slight furrow of thought across his face.

"Stay behind me" , he said, positioning himself protectively in front of her as he watched the figure still lingering at the same spot, staring at them for a brief moment before launching into another attack. Despite the trembling ground and the biting air, crackling with sparks and magic, it was the silence between the strikes that [Y/N] noticed most. A silence in which Jin Woo’s movements—normally razor-sharp and precise—carried a barely perceptible heaviness. A breath too long. A sidestep just a fraction slower than usual. [Y/N]’s heart clenched painfully as she stood frozen, unable to tear her eyes away. Jin Woo was powerful—words could barely capture the might of the Shadow Monarch—but he still had one critical weakness: He was still made of flesh and blood. A body through which blood coursed. A body that knew exhaustion. He was still human. And Aeternus, that ancient nightmare, noticed it too.

His voice was calm, like the whisper of a dying wind. "You cannot win this battle." No mockery. No glee. Just a cold, inevitable truth. [Y/N] felt something deep within her rebel. A part of her screamed to stay out of it—she knew she couldn’t defeat Aeternus.

She knew it. And yet, despite everything. Maybe they were strangers. Maybe they couldn't stand each other. Maybe they were two lost stars in different galaxies—but Jin Woo hadn't betrayed her, hadn't sacrificed her just to save himself. And for that reason alone... she couldn't just stand by and watch.

Her heart pounded against her ribs as she watched Jin Woo being driven into a corner. Aeternus had left him no openings to counterattack. His scythe swung again—and this time, Jin Woo saw no way to block it. He saw the blade, the scythe whose edge devoured the light and swallowed any hope of victory. His body rebelled against him, heavy, exhausted from a fight that knew no end. But the blow never landed— Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the movement—far too fast to react. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around him. With a determination burning brighter than any fear, [Y/N] intercepted the magical strike. The scythe left a searing, glowing gash across her chest. A shower of sparks exploded between her and Aeternus. The air tore apart with a deafening crack as their energies collided. For Jin Woo, the world felt foreign one endless heartbeat. His eyes widened in shock and Adrenaline surged like wildfire through his veins, sharpening his senses to the point of pain. His Instinct took over. He saw it—that fleeting moment when Aeternus faltered. No visible expression—and yet, a shadow of surprise flickered across his posture. Jin Woo didn’t hesitate, with a final surge of strength, he lunged forward, his daggers like lightning born from desperation and unwavering will. His attack struck Aeternus' ancient body with the force of a storm, and the impact made the entire space tremble. Stone shattered, walls cracked, as Aeternus was hurled back like a lifeless meteor, crashing into the wall.

For a heartbeat—or maybe two—Jin Woo stood there, chest heaving, daggers still raised. His breath was ragged, muscles burning, his forehead drenched in sweat and blood. He ignored the floating notification announcing that he had defeated the Monarch of the Eternal Cycle—his focus was entirely elsewhere. On the unmoving body lying on the ground.

He swiftly stored his weapons in his inventory and knelt beside her within seconds, cradling her upper body. His shadows could regenerate automatically if he had enough mana—but she? She was different. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt something beyond the cold emptiness inside him.

The sudden silence was deafening, blood roaring in his ears. He called her name again, his gaze falling to the gaping wound across her chest and His eyes widened slightly. Instead of torn flesh and bone, her wound was filled with blinding light. He could feel the pulsing of mana—but it was unlike his own. Unlike the shadow mana he shared with all his shadows, and unlike what he had felt from her before. It was... less dark.

"You’re not dying here!" His voice cracked more than he realized, his fingers clutching the fabric at her shoulder as if she might slip away if he let go. But suddenly her Face Muscles twitched. "So loud..." she croaked, her eyelids fluttering weakly. But that tiny response was enough for relief to flood through him. Her vision blurred as she blinked several times, and her vision slowly grew clearer again. She looked up into a pair of stormy blue-grey eyes gazing down at her. No trace of the icy danger that had burned in them during the battle. For a moment, she felt disoriented before she tried to sit up—only to fail miserably. Her body felt as heavy as lead. Her chest felt heavy, almost suffocating.

"You don’t have to yell, Jin Woo. I can hear you just fine," she muttered weakly, her lips twitching into a faint smile.

Jin Woo’s face went blank. Had she hit her head too hard? What the hell was wrong with this woman? How could she still joke at a time like this?

His grip on her shoulders tightened briefly before he took a deep breath, locking eyes with her. Her [E/C] irises clear as she looked up at him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded, disbelief bleeding into his otherwise steady voice, as if he could force some sense back into her.

She didn’t answer immediately, simply staring at him for a moment. What had she been thinking? Nothing, really. Like with the spiders—it had been pure instinct, not a conscious thought.

Her mouth curved into a weak smile. "Isn’t it my job as a shadow?" she asked, half amused, half sarcastic.

The tension drained from Jin Woo’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help but drop his head slightly. A short sound escaped him—something like an amused snort. Not quite a laugh, but enough to show [Y/N] something he hadn’t shown anyone besides his family and Jinho in a long time: Humanity. Something that had slowly been buried deeper with every battle, every level up. Her words could have been just a casual joke to lighten the mood. But it was more than that. Her hostility toward him now felt almost like a lie.

Jin Woo wanted answers, but a sudden flare of presence—and a noise—made his head snap around, tension seizing his body. It couldn’t be—

And yet, the once lifeless body of the other Monarch rose, and a cold wind swept through the otherwise still space. Jin Woo’s eyes narrowed to slits. No. What stood before him was no longer Aeternus. The oppressive weight was gone—only the afterimage of his being remained.

"I understand." The voice was no more than a whisper, slipping into the cracks of the ruined space. His hollow eyes gazed down at them, yet the coldness had faded—replaced by something else. Something hard to grasp.

"A bond even I can not sever" His words floated through the air like dust—light yet heavy with meaning.

His gaze flicked briefly to [Y/N], then back to Jin Woo.

"Shadow Monarch" He spoke the title as if it hadn't passed his lips in centuries—even though only minutes had passed. As if it was something older than words themselves.

"Your loyalty... it’s worth more than any crown, any throne. I acknowledge it."

A soft current stirred the room, bringing with it a sense of finality. Aeternus' form began to flicker, as if he would vanish at any moment with the next breeze.

"The cycle never ends... We will meet again. This is for sure"

A faint glimmer flashed through the air, barely perceptible— and [Y/N]’s interface flickered with a soft pling, barely audible in the heavy silence. A new notification: An item had found its way into her inventory.

[New Item: Mystery Box Description: An unremarkable box with unknown contents. Will open when the time is right.]

Jin Woo noticed the shift in her expression when she saw the interface, but before he could ask anything, Aeternus' form began to fade completely. No explosion, no blinding light—just the quiet collapse of something older than time itself.

With him, the remains of his army vanished too, dissolving as if they had never been there. Only silence remained—heavy and tangible, weighing on their shoulders. Only the destroyed walls, the deep scars in the ground, and their battered bodies spoke of what had happened.

[Y/N] had been so distracted by what had just unfolded that she had forgotten the gaping wound in her chest.

"What—" she started to say, feeling a strange tingling sensation im her chest. Jin Woo followed her gaze to the spot on her body where the light had once shone. The light had vanished beneath thick clouds of shadows. It looked almost as if the shadows were swallowing the light, pushing it back—or consuming it. Within seconds, the cut was gone, and the stabbing pain had faded. All that remained was a destroyed top, revealing her bare skin underneath. For a moment, she stared at her exposed skin before realizing Jin Woo was also staring at her chest.

Her face turned scarlet, and she shoved him away with all her strength, covering herself with one hand.

"Look somewhere else!" she hissed, turning away from him. Why the hell was he blushing now—he hadn’t even seen anything! Or... had he? "That wasn’t— I didn’t mean—" he stammered, running a hand through his black hair, shaking loose dust and dirt.

The tense atmosphere had shifted, leaving both of them awkwardly flustered. [Y/N] knelt on the ground, trying desperately to hold her destroyed top together, her face as red as a tomato. She really was just an ordinary woman after all.

Before Jin Woo could say anything, they heard footsteps and a voice approaching.

"My Liege, we have eliminated all enemies" Beru landed at Jin Woo’s feet and knelt before him, Igris following suit shortly after.

Beru’s compound eyes flicked briefly toward [Y/N], and a low, unmistakably disdainful click came from his mandibles.

"Tch. Useless Half-Shadow’’, Beru muttered without even looking at her. "Still breathing, surprisingly."

[Y/N]'s head snapped toward him, eyes flashing. "Excuse me, you overgrown mosquito?" she snapped back. "At least I don't look like something you'd kill with a flyswatter."

Beru’s wings vibrated, his entire posture stiff with offense. "You should be grateful our Liege allows worthless scraps like you to stay near him."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you mad because I don't need to buzz around like a desperate housefly to get attention?" [Y/N] said sweetly, flashing him a poisonous smile.

Beru's mandibles clicked sharply, and he stepped forward, clearly ready to escalate—

"Enough."

Jin Woo’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. The air itself seemed to tighten, heavy with command.

Both Beru and [Y/N] froze instantly. Beru dropped to one knee without hesitation, head bowed low. [Y/N] bit her tongue, fists clenched at her sides, but she wisely stayed silent—though not without an angry huff.

Jin Woo looked at both of them, his gaze cold and unamused. "If you have enough energy to bicker, you can use it for the next fight. I don’t have time to deal with internal nonsense." Beru and [Y/N] muttered under their breath but didn’t dare argue. Jin Woo finally checked his new level with a sigh. "Good work. The experience points were high, but since no bodies remain, there are no resources to collect," he mused. Under normal circumstances, he might have considered it a waste of time—but... His gaze drifted to [Y/N], who still sat with her back to him. His expression was unreadable. Maybe it wasn't a waste after all. The sudden hum and flare of mana signaled the appearance of a Gate, marking their exit. "You can go now," he said, and Beru nodded stiffly before vanishing into the shadows with Igris. [Y/N] mumbled curses under her breath until she felt something warm land on her head.

"Huh?"

A confused noise escaped her lips as she grabbed the fabric. Instantly, warmth spread through her, and his scent filled her nose. "Just for now," Jin Woo said without looking at her. She wrapped the cloak around herself and looked at him. Without his cloak, he somehow looked less like a god of war and more like... a stubborn young man, barely out of boyhood. She raised an eyebrow skeptically, sighed, and stood up. Jin Woo took a few steps toward the Gate and raised his hand. "You can join the others. I’ll summon you when I need you." "Okay," [Y/N] answered, but Jin Woo was already halfway through the Gate when her voice stopped him again. "And... how do I do that?"

"..."

˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ꨄ︎ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

✿ Hm...[Y/N] can't enter the Shadow Realm. What kind of Difficulties could this bring for our Shadow Monarch? ☽

Thanks for all reblogs, likes & comments.'*•.¸♡ I really appreciate it <3 ♡¸.•*' ˋ°•*⁀✎ 𝑢𝑡𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑎

[rekino2114]

Reader and makima wakiing with nayuta and come across a sick stray puppy. Nayuta pleads to keep it, and they cave and let hwr keep it, which also transforms into a giant wolf after a devil attack protecting nayuta.

You,makima and nayuta adopting a wolf devil

Pairing:makima x male reader

A/n:I genuinely forgot this was in my drafts until I was checking them so I'm so sorry about how late this is especially because of how good of a request this was I hope you like it

"Higher daddy!"

Nayuta giggled as you pushed the swing again, causing her to move even higher in the air. You did that a few more times before stopping and letting the swing slow down before stopping fully

"Eh? More daddy!"

"Sorry yuta but we have to go"

"Already?"

"We've been here for like an hour and you didn't even have lunch yet"

"I don't want lunch I want to swing!"

"That's not what your stomach says"

"Come on sweetie, we need to go, you can have fun at home"

You saw makima walking towards you two and starting to speak to nayuta

"But I wanna have fun here!"

"We can go back tomorrow if you want, we can even bring the dogs, it's been a while since you took them on a walk"

At the mention of the dogs, nayuta gasped and started thinking

"OK mommy but promise we'll go tomorrow and bring the puppies too"

"Yes of course, I promise"

With that, nayuta nodded, and you took that as a sign to start lifting her up from the swing and placing her on the ground while holding her hand, starting to walk out of the park

While you were walking towards your house, nayuta started talking about whatever crossed her mind as she usually did. She jumped between talking about her classmates and what happened at school, the new cartoon she liked, and some cool stuff she read about

You listened to her attentively and nodded occasionally giving your own feedback while your wife just stayed silent and led the way, nayuta continued her mostly one-sided conversation until she saw something that caused her to gasp and point at it

"Mommy! Daddy! Look!"

You turned towards where she was pointing and saw......a puppy

It looked small and frail, almost sickly even injured in some parts. Its fur was pure black, and it had red eyes that looked....uncanny in some ways

"A......puppy?"

"Yeah! And it's hurt!"

She ran towards the dog and started looking it over, her face morphing into sadness once she saw just how messed up the puppy was

"What happened little guy? Did someone hurt you? I can't stand people who hurt puppies!"

Meanwhile, you started to walk towards the puppy, but makima stopped you, putting a hand in front of you

"Wait, that dog......it smells weird"

"Hm? Well yeah it's a stray so it probably didn't take a bath in a while"

"No.....I don't mean that"

"Mommy! Daddy! Come here the puppy is bleeding"

Surprised by that you got closer to nayuta and helped her tend to the puppy and tried your best to stop the blood from flowing

"It doesn't look fatal, but I really wonder what happened"

"Yeah, who'd hurt such a cute and defenseless puppy?"

"Can you stand up for me little guy?"

At nayuta's words, the dog tried its best to stand up, actually succeeding causing nayuta to smile and pet him

"Good boy! You're so brave!"

After a while of continuing to pet and play with the dog, nayuta turned around towards you two, and you knew exactly what she was going to ask

"Can we keep him?"

"........no"

"pleeeeassseeeee!!! Look at him! We can't leave it here he'll die!"

"We can bring it to a shelter"

"NOOOOO!!!! they'll treat him badly at the shelter"

"Listen yuta we already have-"

"Pretty Pretty Pretty please! I promise I'll take care of him! I'll wash him and feed him and take him on walks and do anything else! And I won't need any help I promise!"

Nayuta continued pleading while giving uou her own puppy dog eyes which were very effective

You sighed and looked towards your wife who just nodded

"Alright, what's one more puppy I suppose"

"But you have to promise you'll take care of it"

"Yeah, I will! I promise, thanks so much, Mommy and Daddy!"

Nayuta hugged you two before going back to the puppy and picking it up while tickling it. The dog started to lick her face in response, causing her to laugh. You had to admit seeing her like this was absolutely adorable.

You knew she loved dogs, even more than her mother did so you weren't worried at all that she wasn't going to follow up on her promise, especially because nayuta was amazing with dogs. She could easily take care of all of the ones you already had and not only was she loving to them but they also somehow followed basically everything she said and every order she gave them, you don't know if it's some small remnant of the control devil powers she might have inherited or just her nature but you don't mind since it made having so many pets a lot easier

"What are you going to name him?"

Nayuta looked up at the sky pondering your question

"I dunno"

"Hm?"

"I need to get to know him better to give him a name, what if he doesn't like the name I give him now?"

You looked at your daughter with a mix of admiration and awe

"You really care about him"

"Obviously daddy, it was injured! Grrhhh whoever hurt this cute puppy will pay! I'll slaughter them!"

"Maybe.....calm down a bit, I get you care for him but at least now he has a home and he's not gonna get hurt anymore"

Nayuta nodded and continued to play with her new dog, it seemed like they were already getting along amazingly

You continued to walk for a while until nayuta turned around and pointed at a nearby bush that was rustling

"Huh? What's that?"

"Maybe it's another sick puppy!"

Nayuta immediately started running to the bush, but as soon as she did makima's eyes widened as she tried to stop her daughter

"No wait nayuta-"

Before she could do anything spiked vines started to come out of the bush and were about to wrap themselves around nayuta's throat and slit it if only they weren't toarn to shreads a moment before they could by a shadow that ripped them apart

"W-wha-"

The shadow revealed itself to be a giant figure resembling a pure black wolf with flames coming out of its jaw and around its paws

"I-is that......a devil?"

The wolf started to stare down at the bush and growl at it before going down and starting to rip it off. It was revealed that the bush was actually just the head of a devil hiding underground that the wolf started to maul and devour it, biting and clawing at its leafy body leaving it nothing but a pile of ash

"...................w-what just happened?"

"...I think.....this wolf devil was protecting nayuta"

"Protecing her? why?"

As soon as you said that, the giant wolf began to shrink until it was the size of a... puppy, the same small black red eyed puppy that you saved before the flames were gone, and so was the murderous fury it was emitting before. It wasn't even injured anymore somehow, just panting and barking happily in nayuta's direction

"........wait so.......the puppy.....WAS A DEVIL!?"

"So that's why it smelled like that"

".....fenrir...."

"Huh?"

You turned to where nayuta was and saw her wide-eyed staring at the puppy you could have sworn you saw actual stars in her yellow eyes

"Fenrir!"

The half devil swiftly went up and hugged the puppy happily, letting him lick her face and bark at her

"That was so cool! You can turn into a super awesome wolf!? And you protected me too!? You're getting so many treats for this!"

Meanwhile you stood there still incredibly surprised by what just happened

"OK so the puppy was the wolf devil this entire time.....and I assume it can turn into these two forms.......but still why did it protect nayuta?"

"I think we might have inadvertently made a contract with it"

"Eh?"

"My guess is that it was injured after a fight with another devil, so it took its puppy form and was slowly bleeding. When we found it and cared for it, I think we might have formed a bond with it, and nayuta made a contract with it without wanting to, I assume it's something like we take care of it and in exchange it protects us"

"I......see"

Nayuta continued petting the dog and turned towards you

"Daddy! Mommy! Did you see that? That was super cool! Fenrir turned huge and destroyed that stupid plant! It was soooooo awesome!"

"Fenrir? Is that how you want to call him?"

"Yeah! It's a super cool name for a super cool dog.......o-or is he a wolf?....oh who cares he's super cool anyway!"

You giggled and pat her head as she hugged fenrir

"You really love him don't you?"

"Yeah yeah! He's my favorite! O-oh d-dont tell the other puppies though, they'll be mad"

"Don't worry I won't say anything"

Nayuta picked up fenrir and continued walking while laughing and playing with the devil, meanwhile you approached makima and started talking to her

"Are we sure it's OK to keep it? It is a devil after all"

"Well it's friendly plus nayuta loves it so I don't think it's a problem"

"I guess you're right....also I think it's fitting for the daughter of a horseman of apocalypse to have the wolf devil as her pet"

"Hehe, I suppose you're right"

You reached nayuta and saw her still smiling brightly, seeing her so happy made you happy too

"Daddy, do you think I can ride fenrir to school? Everyone is gonna think I'm so cool"

"O-oh no you definitely shouldn't, also can you not tell anyone about fenrir being....a wolf"

"Huh? Why?"

"It's just better like this, trusts us ok?"

"OK....but can I play with him?"

"Of course, anytime you want"

"Alright then, let's go home! I wanna play with him right now!"

"Sure thing"

You and makima held hands as nayuta started running quickly to your house excited to play with her new "dog"