#you were the first ask so I'll oblige and post yours first
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jikooklove9795 · 2 days ago
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I would like to know about your take on Jimin and Jungkook's car conversation in AYS. Do you think there was a break up?
First let me answer the second part of your ask. And then I'll talk about their car conversation.
Do I think Jikook had a break up?
NO. NOT AT ALL.
I think you got this idea about a break up cause we didn't get to see Jikook interactions during the Solo Era prior to AYS. Now, them not interacting publically does not mean they don't interact at all. I'm sure they did meet up and spent time with each other BUT behind closed doors, in the security of their apartments. However that time was NOT ENOUGH for them who used to spent 24×7 together. Together during work hours and later relaxing at home but again together, prior to Solo Era. So, whatever time they had to spent apart was not by their choice but it was forced upon them. They had demanding schedules which kept them apart. And whatever time they spent together we didn't get to know about that cause they didn't feel the need to report it to us. They're not obliged to do that. However we know they were together in Jungkook's apartment from that time when Jungkook complained about Jimin changing the adjustment of his mood lamp and the other time when Jimin showed up at the airport with a scratch on his arm (Jungkook posted a pic of Bam around this time too)
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Also, we wouldn't have known about Jikook having a sleepover at Jungkook's house the night before AYS Jeju if Jimin didn't share it with us.
And what about all those times Jungkook started a live every time Jimin boarded a flight from Korea? Did they spent time together before Jimin had to get on those flights? I can take a guess.
And what about the times Jungkook did a Jimin centric live (his smile while watching Jimin in that video 😭 Thats a man in love), teasing Jimin's SMF Pt 2, his reaction to SMF Pt 2, watching only Jimin's Suchwita, vibing and singing along to Angel Pt 1.
Jungkook being excited and lighting up like a Christmas tree whenever Jimin comments in his live. Trying to lure Jimin into doing a live with him using boxing, beer and fried chicken. What about that half naked live and their flirting back and forth making us all third wheels.
Now let's talk about Jimin. Jimin writing a Love Ode, "Letter" for Jungkook with Jungkook doing the background vocals. A song which conveys how he's grateful for that one person who held him through his dark times, the person who believed in him when even he didnt believe in his strengths and how he hopes and wishes his forever to be with that person.
And then we have Jimin flying to New York to support Jungkook during his Solo debut. Not only that but he made plans to spent quality time with Jungkook cause he knew Jungkook needed it, he needed it, their relationship needed it. All under the veil of a travel show.
They're giving away major hints towards what their relationship is. Many times with their actions and then also with their words.
Now maybe you'll ask me if AYS came about cause they were trying to get back together from their " break up ". My answer is NO. The show was a guise to spend time with each other. To make memories, to be carefree and simply be with each other. Cause the time they got to spend with each other before AYS was simply not enough for them.
This was why Jungkook said " You're here". Finally". He wanted Jimin to choose him, make time for him and their relationship. Cause he's only human and sometimes needs reassurances especially when more trying times (military service) was coming up.
Also, it was their first time in front of the cameras (there were so many) without the ot7 protection to provide them a cover. So, they were probably thinking what to show, what to say, how much they should say and how much they should show.
So, yeah I don't think there was a break up. Not during the Solo Era and not during the years before that.
Does that mean they never had arguments? Of course not. They have. But from what I have seen and heard they resolve it pretty quickly. Their verbal communication is solid. Jimin is good in expressing his feelings and we have seen how Jungkook gets chatty when it comes to Jimin. He speaks freely and openly with Jimin. Their non verbal communication is amazing (eye contact, body language and tone of voice). They're affectionate with each other. Openly show appreciation and give compliments. Should i even talk about how much they love each other??!! There's so much of it. Pure, unconditional love. The roots of their relationship are deeply secure.
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All I see is two men who are in a long term relationship giving their all to make the best out of the available circumstances. I see how in love they're and how much they cherish their relationship.
Credits to the owner of the video
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polisena-art · 2 years ago
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I'm gonna be annoying and predictable and ask for DonZé (birbs) 😭🙏🏼💙💚 Only if you want to of course!!
DONZÉ IS NEVER ANNOYING, here you go!
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mononijikayu · 20 days ago
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love is the law, religion is taught — ryomen sukuna.
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"And what does that make me, my lord?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Sukuna looked at you again, his smirk returning but softer this time, almost wistful. "It makes you the only one who matters. Out of everyone, every woman in these lands. You are the only one that matters above them. Behind me.” And behind that, behind Hiromi. You whisper in your head.
GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, forced parenthood, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, toxic relationship, depiction of suicide, depiction of suicidal ideation, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of parenthood, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;
WORD COUNT: 20k words
NOTE: when i was writing this, i thought it wouldn't be this long. but when i ended up writing more and more, i just couldn't stop. i ended up writing this as a sort of prequel to the other woman's latter parts. if people are aware of me from other websites or just here, you know i write a lot. this 20k usually was my usual writing. but i feel like people like a lot of short stories. i'll post about that some time else. i'm gonna be sorry for breaking more of your hearts like this. the reason this took so long as me drafting multiple times. and then my exams. so, it just...this will be a read. anyway, i love you guys!!! thank you for your birthday wishes. see you later <3
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YOU COULD FEEL THE YEARS IN YOUR BONES. You had been Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine for nearly ten years, a role that once filled you with dread and uncertainty. Over time, however, the nature of your relationship shifted. Unlike the others who served him out of fear or obligation, you had managed to carve out a space for yourself in his world—one of strange but growing trust.
It wasn't love, at least not for you, but it was something. Ryomen Sukuna treated you differently from the others. He sought your company more often, and the violent edge in his voice seemed to soften when he addressed you.
What set you apart wasn’t just your demeanor or willingness to adapt—it was your face, the way you looked almost identical to Ryomen Hiromi, the only woman your husband Sukuna had ever loved.
At first, you didn’t know why he lingered in your presence or why his temper cooled when you were near. It was only after overhearing a conversation between two of his most trusted advisors that you realized the truth. You looked just like her—the woman whose memory still haunted him. You had become a ghost of his past, a stand-in for the love he had lost long ago.
As the years passed, you began to understand Sukuna in ways no one else could. He never spoke of Ryomen Hiromi to you, but in quiet moments, you saw the flicker of something softer in his gaze.
Perhaps he found comfort in your presence because you reminded him of her. Or maybe, in some twisted way, he had come to care for you—not as the woman you were, but as the reflection of someone long gone.
Even so, you knew where you stood. You were the favored concubine, yes, but the specter of Ryomen Hiromi loomed between you, casting a shadow over every fleeting moment of tenderness. You were not her, and you never would be. But in this cruel, tangled relationship, you had become the closest thing Sukuna allowed himself to care for.
You had long since come to terms with your place in Sukuna's world, understanding that his affection for you wasn’t truly yours. Still, it made life easier, gave you a strange sort of power in a place where others lived and died on his whims.
Once in a blue moon, sometimes, you both sat together for dinner. It was a rare occasion, that was for sure. Ryomen Sukuna often eats alone, served by his most loyal servant Uraume. But there were times when he would ask you to join him. It was often late at night, Sukuna didn't sleep well. You doubt he ever does. 
As the sun set and the air turned cool that night, Uraume had come to your chambers and told you that Sukuna summoned you to his chambers to sup with him. You were surprised. But you immediately dressed with the help of your servants and as soon as the last of your satin ribbons were tied to your hair, you rushed out towards his chambers.
When you had arrived, the servants had been tense. It is usually like that when your lord Sukuna does not get what he wants. You apologized to them quietly, as quietly as possible for your lord husband not to hear. You would rather not have him do so. He does not like anyone, anything he owns lower themselves. You told them to leave, to go away. You would rather that it be you in that room alone with him. It would be easier.  
It was one of those rare moments where he wasn’t looking to dominate or torment. Instead, he seemed pensive, sitting by the window, staring out at the horizon. Trays of food were scattered with luxurious food and luxurious ceramic tiles of alcohol. It was not for your husband. He does not need such sustenance.
It was for you, even with your small appetite. You could feel a bile rip through your throat. You purse your lips, walking inside the room and slowly lowering yourself, to bow. His crimson eyes flickered to you as you entered, and the smallest of smirks tugged at his lips. 
“You're late, little one.” he said, his voice deep and teasing, though there was no real malice in it.
"I was making sure I looked presentable, my lord." you replied calmly, accustomed to his games. "I didn't think you'd appreciate rushing in disarray with your servant.”
He chuckled, low and dangerous, but you had learned to discern when that sound held genuine amusement. He urges you forward from your bowing position and you stand up, moving towards him and sitting on the silk pillow as gracefully as you could.
"You always did know how to play the part. Perhaps that's why I tolerate you more than the others."
You sat across from him, not too close, but not far enough to seem distant. "Or perhaps it's because I remind you of her."
At this, his expression shifted. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought you had overstepped. But instead of lashing out, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering on you. You looked over the meal and started to plate for your husband, even if he does not eat it. And then yourself. You slowly moved your sleeve away, carefully as you took the alcoholic beverage and started pouring it upon silver cups, first for him and then on your own. 
"You think you're clever, little one?" he said, his tone neutral, betraying nothing. "But tell me... do you believe that’s all you are to me? A ghost of someone who no longer exists?"
It was a question you had pondered many nights alone in your chambers, alone and cold, unable to sleep whatsoever. You wanted to believe that over the years, you had carved out a space of your own in his cold heart, but the truth was undeniable. You were Ryomen Hiromi’s echo, the closest thing he would allow himself to love again. But how much of you, the real you, did he see?
"I don’t pretend to know what goes on in your mind, my lord." you said carefully, holding his gaze. "But I know I am not her. And I know you don’t care for me the way you cared for her."
Silence hung heavy between you. Sukuna's eyes, burning with something unreadable, bore into yours before he spoke again, softer than usual. He uncharacteristically lets his hand move towards the table and slowly takes one of the silver cups full of sake and raises it to his lips. He downs it slowly, letting the cool smooth taste echoes on his throat.
"You're right, little one." he admitted, surprising you. "You're not her. You never will be. Best remember it, hm?"
His words were sharp, meant to cut, but they didn't sting the way they once might have. You were used to those words. And so you do not speak. You let him say what he does and slowly let yourself consume the warm flavorful broth.
Sukuna looks towards you once more, watching you eat some meat. Silence echoes through the room. Instead, they hung in the air like a truth neither of you could avoid. And yet, as he turned his gaze back toward the setting sun, his voice grew quieter.
"But you're the only one who's come close."
It wasn’t an admission of love or devotion—you already know that your lord Sukuna wasn’t capable of that, not anymore. You were used to it. And yet, even if it was something you were used to it — you were still pained by it. But it was the closest you would ever get to understanding his complicated feelings for you. It was all that was left in his pitch black heart that never belonged to Ryomen Hiromi. You swallowed the last of the meat.
"And what does that make me, my lord?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sukuna looked at you again, his smirk returning but softer this time, almost wistful. "It makes you the only one who matters. Out of everyone, every woman in these lands. You are the only one that matters above them. Behind me.”
And behind that, behind Hiromi. You whisper in your head.
He rose from his seat, approaching you with the predatory grace that always reminded you of the monster he truly was. He cupped your chin, tilting your face up toward him, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. You could feel your breath hitch hotly as his gaze burned your own. You purse your lips, trying to maintain control of yourself.
"But never forget, little one." Sukuna continued, his tone dropping. "You are here because I allow it. You may remind me of her, but you are still mine to control."
You held his gaze, unflinching. "I haven’t forgotten, my lord."
For a moment, the two of you remained like that for a moment. It was as though you were both locked in a silent struggle of power, emotion, and unspoken understanding. Even after ten years, it was just that way. Finally, Sukuna released you, stepping back as though the moment had never happened.
"Good." he said, turning away once more. "Now leave me for the night, little one. I’ve had enough of this sentimental nonsense for one night."
You nodded at him. You drank the last cup of alcohol and let the bitterness burn you. Soon after, you rose without a word, bowing slightly before you made your way to the door. Just before you left, you paused, glancing back at him one last time.
"I wish you a good night, my lord."
He didn’t respond, his attention already back on the horizon. But as you left, you couldn't help but wonder if somewhere, buried deep within him, there was more to his feelings than even he understood.
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THE PEOPLE OF HIDA VIEWED YOUR HUSBAND LIKE A GOD. They always have, for as long as you could remember. The grand hall of Ryomen Sukuna’s temple buzzed with the presence of those who had come from all corners of Hida.
The heavy doors swung open to let in petitioners, men and women alike, who approached with heads bowed low, their faces masked with fear or desperation. Some came seeking mercy, others with requests for blessings or favors only Sukuna could grant.
They dared not meet his eyes as they offered up their pleas, knowing that their fates rested on the whims of the man seated high upon the throne.
And there you sat, just below him, on a fine mahogany chair that had been made specifically for you, a symbol of your status within the temple. The carved wood was smooth beneath your fingers, but no amount of comfort could erase the tension simmering beneath your skin.
Sukuna's gaze swept across the crowd with indifference, his presence towering over all as his blood-streaked eyes flickered lazily between the petitioners. You could feel the immense weight of his power bearing down on the room, as though his very presence could crush anyone at will.
But what irked you the most wasn’t the groveling or the constant fear that filled this place. No, it was her.
Directly in front of you, standing tall in the center of the hall, was the statue of Ryomen Hiromi. The woman who had haunted you from the moment you became Sukuna's concubine. The resemblance between you and her was striking—uncannily so.
The cold, lifelike stone eyes stared straight ahead, almost as if they were judging you, just as she had judged countless others. The figure of Hiromi was positioned so that it faced not just Sukuna, but you as well, creating an eerie sense of being under constant scrutiny. Her hands, carved with impeccable precision, reached out in a serene pose, like a goddess looking down on humanity.
It was not just this one statue, either. There were others scattered throughout the temple—statues, paintings, carvings—each one depicting Hiromi in a different light. She was revered here, just as much as Sukuna himself.
The woman Sukuna loved most, the woman you could never truly become, was enshrined in every corner of his temple. Her image lingered like a ghost, haunting you, reminding you that no matter how close you sat to his throne, you would always be second to her.
Sukuna’s voice echoed in the chamber, deep and commanding, as he passed judgment on the next petitioner, his words casual as if human lives were merely tokens to him. You barely listened, too distracted by the sensation of Hiromi’s stone eyes watching you, bored at you with those haunting eyes..
You couldn’t escape her. Not here. Not ever.
Your eyes drifted from the petitioner at Sukuna's feet back to the statue, a chill crawling down your spine. It was too perfect. The way it captured her beauty, her serene expression, the very essence of what made her Ryomen Hiromi—everything that made her more than just a memory for Sukuna.
You wondered, in your darkest moments, whether Sukuna had commissioned these statues himself, making sure they were as accurate as possible, preserving every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself.
The thought gnawed at you.
The crowd shifted again, and you could hear the low murmurs of the people waiting for their turn to kneel before Sukuna. A faint breeze from the temple’s high windows stirred the air, and the faint sound of bells chimed in the distance.
And still, the statue stood, unwavering, staring at you with those lifeless eyes. It was as if Ryomen Hiromi had never left, as if she lingered between this world and the next, a permanent fixture in Sukuna’s heart, never allowing you to forget that you were only here because of her.
“Next.” Sukuna’s voice boomed, pulling you from your thoughts.
Another petitioner shuffled forward, trembling as they knelt. Sukuna watched them with a bored expression, waiting for them to speak.
You didn’t look at him. Instead, your gaze flickered back to the statue—always back to her. She was everywhere. No matter where you turned in this temple, in this life with Sukuna, Ryomen Hiromi was there.
Her presence was eternal, and it was driving you mad.
It wasn’t as if you truly hated Ryomen Hiromi. How could you hate someone you had never met, someone who existed only in the memories of others and in the cold, flawless statues that filled this temple? No, hatred wasn’t the right word. But her presence—her haunting, ever-present likeness—gnawed at you in ways that went deeper than resentment. It was painful.
Painful because every time you looked at her, it reminded you that you would never truly be seen for who you were. Sukuna’s gaze might fall on you often, but you knew the truth. He wasn’t looking at you—he was seeing her. You were a reflection, an echo of the only woman he had ever truly loved. And that knowledge burns inside you, slowly and constantly.
The way her statues were placed, almost reverent, made it clear just how important she was. To the people of this land, Ryomen Hiromi was no less a god than Sukuna himself. Her beauty, her grace, her presence—immortalized in stone—became a legend, a tale passed down from generation to generation. And you? You were simply the woman who bore her face, destined to be a stand-in for a love long lost.
You couldn’t escape it.
Even now, as you sat in that carefully crafted chair below Sukuna’s throne, the image of Hiromi loomed over you. Her delicate features seemed to accuse you, her eyes hollow but full of judgment. It was as if she were silently asking: Why are you here? Why are you in this temple, sitting at his feet, when you could never be me?
Your fingers tightened on the armrests, a subtle but instinctive reaction to the thoughts swirling in your mind. You knew it wasn’t logical to be angry at a statue—at a dead woman whose only crime was being loved by Sukuna—but the feeling still crept in. You had no reason to despise her, but the weight of constantly living in her shadow was suffocating.
Another plea for mercy echoed through the hall, but you barely registered it. Sukuna’s voice was deep, dismissive as he granted or denied requests with a wave of his hand. This was his world, and Hiromi was as much a part of it as you were. More, even. She had her place in his heart, in his temple, in the minds of the people who worshiped them both.
But where was your place? Were you always to be nothing more than a reflection, someone to remind him of what he had lost? And what pained you more was that even after nearly ten years by his side, you hadn’t found an answer to that question. Sukuna had grown accustomed to you, perhaps even fond of you, but you knew that in the deepest recesses of his heart, it was Hiromi’s memory that still held sway.
It hurt in ways you couldn’t explain.
You weren’t her. And no matter how long you stayed by Sukuna’s side, no matter how much you tried to understand him, to navigate the storm of his power and wrath, you could never be her.
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your gaze, away from the statue, away from the memory that plagued you. The hall was filled with voices, but none of them reached you. Sukuna’s voice, sharp and dismissive, barely registered in your ears.
The weight of Hiromi’s existence pressed down on you, heavier than the stone statues that surrounded you, more oppressive than the walls of the temple that bore her likeness in every corner. For a moment, you allowed yourself to wonder—a dangerous, fleeting thought—what would it have been like if she had never existed?
If Ryomen Hiromi had never crossed Sukuna’s path, never claimed the part of his heart that was now lost to time, would his gaze fall upon you differently? Would he see you, truly, and not the pale reflection of the woman he had loved so deeply? Could you have been someone significant to him in your own right, not simply because of your resemblance to her?
The thought lingered, bittersweet, filling you with a longing you barely allowed yourself to acknowledge. It was tempting, imagining a world where Hiromi had never been. Where you, instead of living in her shadow, might have been the first to carve a place in Sukuna’s heart, the one to leave an indelible mark on his soul.
But it was a foolish thought, and you knew it.
Hiromi had shaped him. Her love—or perhaps the memory of her—had molded him into the man he was now. She wasn’t just a figure of the past. She was the cornerstone of this entire existence, the silent foundation upon which Sukuna had built his empire, his throne, his identity.
The cold stone likeness of her didn’t just haunt this temple—it haunted Sukuna’s very being. It influenced his every thought, his every action, even the way he looked at you.
You weren’t just living in her shadow. You were her shadow, a reflection of something he could never truly let go of. And no matter what you did, no matter how close you came to him, you would always be caught between the person you were and the ghost of Hiromi.
And the worst part? You couldn’t hate her. Not really.
You wanted to. In those quiet, agonizing moments when you felt Sukuna’s eyes on you, knowing he was searching for traces of her in your face, you wanted to hate Hiromi with all your being. But how could you? She had been everything to him. Her love had meant something so profound that even in death, she lingered, casting her long shadow over the living. Her presence was woven into the very fabric of Sukuna’s existence.
But more than that, you owed her everything. Without Hiromi, without the love that had marked Sukuna so deeply, would he have ever taken notice of you at all? Would he have seen something in your face, something in your eyes that reminded him of the one woman he had ever loved?
Without Hiromi, you might not even be here. Her memory had brought you into his life, kept you by his side for nearly ten years. The recognition that you shared her likeness had made you his favorite, the one concubine who had stayed when so many others had come and gone. In some twisted way, Hiromi had paved the path that led you to this place, to this seat below his throne, to the strange, fragile bond you now shared with him.
But living in her shadow—it was a torment all its own.
Every statue, every carving, every whispered prayer to her image reminded you that no matter how close you came to Sukuna, you were not her. And you never would be. The affection he might show you was born not out of love for you, but out of a love that had long since died with Hiromi. You were the echo of something that had ended, a reflection of a life he had lost.
It was a strange, agonizing paradox. Without Hiromi, you would have nothing, no connection to Sukuna at all. But because of her, you would also never have everything. You could never be the woman he truly loved, no matter how long you stayed at his side.
And so, you sat there, beneath Sukuna’s throne, as the statue of Hiromi looked down on you with cold, indifferent eyes, her presence an inescapable reminder of the role you played in his life.
A role you hadn’t chosen, but one you were bound to, for as long as Sukuna wished it.
You snap back to the present as Sukuna’s deep voice rumbles through the hall, breaking through your swirling thoughts. “What do you think?” he asks, his gaze shifting from the kneeling man before him to you. His expression is unreadable, cold and calculating, as always, though there’s an edge of curiosity in his tone.
You blink, focusing on the man who trembles at Sukuna’s feet, eyes downcast, waiting for his judgment. The hall, filled with the murmurs of the petitioners, goes quiet in anticipation.
“What is his crime?” you ask, your voice calm, though you feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze on you.
“He stole, little one.” Sukuna replies, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice as if daring you to suggest otherwise. “From one of my temples.”
You sigh softly, leaning back in your chair, your eyes narrowing slightly as you assess the man. His clothes are tattered, his hands dirty and worn—clearly a sign of the hard times that have plagued the land recently. The famine had hit Hida hard this year. Crops had failed, and many of the people were barely surviving, struggling just to feed their families.
“The famine has been hard on all, my lord.” you say quietly, though there’s an edge of empathy in your words. You weren’t excusing the man, but you understood the desperation that drove people to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise done. Hunger was a cruel master, and you’d seen its effects firsthand in the villages.
“That does not mean he is entitled to steal, little one.” Sukuna counters, his tone sharp, though he doesn’t seem angry—more like he’s making a point. “There needs to be justice.”
You purse your lips, knowing Sukuna’s sense of justice could be harsh, final, and unyielding. He ruled with an iron fist, and mercy was not something he granted easily. But you also knew he valued your opinion, at least in his own little ways. After all, you were the one concubine whose voice he truly listened to.
“Then chain him to me, my lord.” you say, your words surprising even yourself. You sit up straighter, meeting Sukuna’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “Let this man serve me in the Vermillion hall. My private garden needs tending. Let him work under my watch so that he may learn a lesson. Let him toil in the hardship of life for his mistake, rather than meet more... final end.”
The man at Sukuna’s feet looks up, his eyes wide with shock, perhaps hope, though he dares not speak. It was almost rare for anyone to be heard speaking with such authority in this hall the way Ryomen Sukuna does.
It was rarer that your voice was heard with such a loud echo. The other woman speaks, they all must think. The rarest words from her lips. Mercy, the virtue of the woman she could never replace, echoing in the stone sight of her.
The hall remains silent, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting for Sukuna’s response.
Sukuna’s eyes linger on you, studying you for a long moment. You can feel the weight of his power in his gaze, the way he considers your words, turning them over in his mind. He is not a man to grant mercy lightly, and you know the risk you’re taking by asking this of him.
But after nearly ten years by his side, you’ve come to understand how to navigate his moods, his whims, and his sense of order. You knew when to have him indulge you, even when it was not an occurrence you repeated frequently.
Finally, a slow smile curves at the corners of his mouth. It’s not a warm smile—it never is—but it’s a sign that he’s pleased. “Very well, little one.” he says, his voice carrying the authority of his decision. “Let him serve you in the Vermillion hall. He will tend your garden, as you wish. But if he steps out of line—if he falters, even once—you will bring him back to me. He shall meet his end in the hands of his lord. Do you understand?”
There is no mistaking the threat beneath his words. You nod, accepting his terms.
“Thank you, my lord.” you say softly, turning your gaze to the man who has been spared, for now. He looks up at you with a mix of relief and fear, clearly aware of how close he came to a far more brutal fate.
Sukuna leans back on his throne, watching you both, as if amused by the small victory you’ve won for the man. But you know better than to think Sukuna was softened. This was merely a moment of indulgence, granted to you because of the peculiar bond you shared.
As the guards move to take the man away, you return your attention to the grand statue of Ryomen Hiromi, standing in front of you, her stone eyes as cold and distant as ever.
In the shadow of the woman who had everything, you had won a small victory today. But the haunting presence of Hiromi lingered still, reminding you that no matter what you did, Sukuna’s heart would never truly belong to you. And no matter what – your kindness would never be as beloved by the people who revered the stone that was left.
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YOU ENJOYED THE PRIVILEGE OF PRIVACY. Every day, you enjoyed the distant life you had lived here in the Vermillion hall. The Vermillion hall had been a gift from Sukuna, presented to you on your fifth year in his temple.
It wasn’t grand in the way his own halls were, but it was yours. A quiet, secluded enclave within the sprawling temple grounds, removed from the constant presence of the other concubines and the weight of Hiromi’s looming statues.
In the years prior, you had only been given a selection of rooms within Sukuna’s own quarters, close enough for him to visit whenever he pleased. Though his visits were rare, those rooms had been a symbol of your availability to him, a reminder that you were under his thumb, always within reach.
But as time passed, and your bond with Sukuna evolved into something more complex than mere possession, he decided to give you something more. Vermillion hall became yours. It was a gesture that left the other concubines seething with jealousy.
They already despised how close you had become to Sukuna, how often he lingered by your side, and now they had another reason to resent you. You knew that their hatred ran deep, festered in the corridors of his temple, where whispers of favoritism and betrayal echoed in the dark.
To pacify them, and perhaps to create some distance between you and their hostility, Sukuna had given you the Vermillion Hall. It wasn’t a grand act of love, nor was it some romantic gesture. It was practical. The gift served to ease tensions, to quell your growing discomfort, and to offer you a reprieve from the suffocating dynamics of the temple’s inner court.
In Vermillion Hall, you had your own household. Your own space, away from the eyes that burned with envy. Your own garden, tended by servants who answered only to you. There were pleasantries there, comforts that softened the harshness of your life with Sukuna. The hall was peaceful, serene, and for the first time in years, you had a sense of autonomy, a place to call your own.
You were aware of what the gift truly meant. It wasn’t love, not even affection in the way one might hope. Sukuna had never cared in that way. His gestures, while grand, were always calculated.
Vermillion hall was an offering of peace, a way to keep you satisfied, pacified. It wasn’t an act of affection but of convenience. With your own residence, you were removed from the tensions of the other concubines. You were out of the way, kept at a distance while still under his control.
And yet, you were grateful. Despite knowing the reasons behind it, you cherished the hall because it afforded you something you hadn’t realized you craved so deeply—freedom.
You were far enough from the other concubines, from their petty schemes and cruel glares. Away from the prying, stone-cold eyes of Hiromi’s likeness, always watching you from every corner of the main temple. And, perhaps most importantly, you were away from Sukuna’s immediate reach.
Here, in your quiet refuge, you could breathe without constantly feeling the weight of his presence or his demands. The distance didn’t erase your bond with him—Sukuna could summon you whenever he wished, and you would always return—but it allowed you moments of solitude, moments to reflect and gather yourself.
In Vermillion Hall, you found a strange sort of peace. Away from the tempest of Sukuna’s world, you could finally be alone with your thoughts. And in that space, you realized how much you had craved this separation—how, even in your closeness to Sukuna, you had always yearned to be free from the shadow of both him and Hiromi.
The garden at Vermillion hall was your sanctuary. It had been from the moment you first stepped foot into it, surrounded by delicate vermillion petals, fragrant herbs, and the soft hum of nature’s presence.
Sukuna had forbidden the servants from tending to it, decreeing that it was yours alone to care for, a space untouched by others. It was a strange sort of gift—one that granted you solitude but also burdened you with its upkeep.
In the beginning, you had relished the challenge, pouring your time and energy into every plant, every blossom. The act of tending the garden gave you purpose, something to pour your hands into when everything else in your life felt dictated by Sukuna’s whims. It was an escape, a place where you could breathe and let your thoughts wander.
But as the years passed, you found it harder to keep up with. The garden grew wild, sprawling beyond what you could manage alone. The weight of maintaining it, along with the complexities of your life in Vermillion hall, began to overwhelm you. What was once your refuge now became a reminder of your isolation, each untended leaf and overgrown vine whispering of the loneliness you felt within these walls.
That was when Sukuna granted your request—begrudgingly, perhaps—and allowed you a servant. The man who came to you, your new gardener, was named Hironobu. His name meant “gentle abundance” and it seemed to suit him perfectly.
He was a quiet, unassuming figure, with a calm presence that filled the garden like a steady breeze. He wasn’t like the other servants, who always carried a quiet fear of Sukuna in their eyes. There was something different about Hironobu, a certain calm that put you at ease in a way you hadn’t expected.
At first, you barely spoke to him, unsure of how to navigate the strangeness of having someone else in your once-private space. But as days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, you began to find comfort in his presence. He tended to the garden with care, never overstepping, always leaving space for you to do what you wished. But slowly, you began to rely on him more and more. His hands, though calloused, were gentle with the plants, and you found yourself watching him sometimes, noticing the way he seemed to move with the rhythm of the earth.
Conversations began to bloom between the two of you, small at first—a comment about the soil, a shared observation about a plant’s growth. But over time, you began to talk about other things. Life. The temple. The world beyond its walls, which felt like a distant dream. Hironobu listened more than he spoke, his quiet presence a balm to your often lonely existence.
You found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Not in the same way you were tied to Sukuna, but in something softer, something more human. Hironobu didn’t see you as a concubine or as someone living in the shadow of Hiromi. He saw you as you were—a person. A soul, just like him.
There was no pretense with him. No judgment. Just quiet understanding.
In the afternoons, you would find him in the garden, kneeling by the plants, his fingers brushing against the earth as if he were communicating with it. You would sit nearby, watching him work, feeling a peace you hadn’t known in years. It was a strange thing, this growing connection between the two of you.
You weren’t sure when it had started—perhaps from the very first time he smiled at you, or perhaps later, when you noticed that being with him felt different than with anyone else.
With Hironobu, the garden began to feel like a sanctuary again, not just from Sukuna or the other concubines, but from your own loneliness. The space that had once been yours alone became something shared, and in that sharing, something beautiful blossomed—a quiet companionship, a bond that grew in the shadow of the vermillion blossoms.
For the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t completely alone. Hironobu was there, steady and calm, tending to the garden as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And with each passing day, you found yourself growing closer to him, drawn to the gentle abundance of his presence.
One late afternoon, as the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, casting long shadows across the garden, you found yourself kneeling beside Hironobu. He was carefully pruning one of the flowering shrubs, his focus entirely on the delicate task. You watched him for a moment in silence, taking in the way his hands moved with precision, the soft rustle of leaves under his touch.
“You’ve done wonders with this place, Hironobu.” you finally said, your voice breaking the quiet. “I barely recognize it anymore. It feels… alive again.”
Hironobu glanced up, offering a small smile. “It was always alive, thanks to your good work, my lady. It just needed a little bit more care.”
You could feel warmth brush against your cheek as you nodded, brushing your fingers along the edge of a flower petal. “I couldn’t have managed it on my own. I’m grateful that you’re here.”
There was a moment of quiet between you, the air filled with the soft hum of the garden’s life. Hironobu set down his tools and wiped his hands on a cloth, then looked at you with an expression that was both kind and thoughtful.
“You speak as if you’re alone here, my lady.” he said quietly. “But you’re not. Not anymore.”
His words settled between you, a truth that you hadn’t fully realized until now. The loneliness that had once pressed down on you had lifted, little by little, ever since he arrived.
“I suppose… I’ve gotten used to being alone.” you admitted, your voice softer than before. “It’s been that way for so long. Even when I was with lord Sukuna, surrounded by people, it was always the same. The others… they hated me. And lady Hiromi……” You hesitated, glancing at the distant temple where her statues stood in silent vigil. “She’s everywhere.”
Hironobu’s gaze followed yours, but he said nothing for a moment. Instead, he sat back on his heels and watched you with a gentle patience that you had come to value. You could tell that he had some fondness for Hiromi.
Who wouldn’t? His parents must have told her of the good deeds of Ryomen Hiromi. You were but a nobody and Hiromi, she was immortal to the people, to the land. You were an outsider to these people.
“Do you resent lady Hiromi, my lady?” he asked quietly, his tone free of judgment.
You shook your head, though the truth of it weighed heavily on you. “No. I can’t. How could I? Lord Sukuna loved her. And she is kind and generous, she was genuine, I am sure. But I…..I’m… I’m only here because I remind him of her.”
Hironobu’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes thoughtful. “And yet, he chose to keep you close. To give you this hall, this garden. That’s not something he does for everyone, my lady. You are important to our lord.”
“Maybe.” You sighed, the weight of your situation pressing down on you once more. “But it’s not love. I doubt it was. Not like it was with lady Hiromi.”
There was a long pause as you both sat in the quiet of the garden, the only sound the soft breeze moving through the leaves.
“Do you wish it was, my lady?” Hironobu asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You turned to look at him, surprised by the question. His eyes were steady, sincere. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered that yourself. Would it be easier if Sukuna truly loved you? If you weren’t just a replacement for a woman who was no longer here?
But as you looked into Hironobu’s eyes, the answer felt more complicated than it ever had before.
“I don’t know, Hironobu.” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Maybe at first, I did. But now… I’m not sure it matters.”
Hironobu’s expression softened, and he nodded as if he understood. “Love doesn’t always come in the way we expect it to, my lady.”
You met his gaze, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. There was something about the way he said it, the way his words felt more like an invitation than a simple observation.
“I suppose not.” you murmured.
A comfortable silence fell between you again, and after a few moments, Hironobu stood and extended a hand to help you up. You took it, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours, and for a moment, you stood there together in the quiet of the garden.
“Shall we finish up for today?” he asked, his voice gentle.
You nodded, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. “Hironobu?”
He paused, looking at you curiously. “Yes, my lady?”
“I don’t think I could have done this without you.” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “Not just the garden. Everything.”
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re not alone anymore, my lady. I hope you may remember that.”
You held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding, a quiet understanding passing between you. As you walked back toward the hall, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted. Not just in the garden, but between you and Hironobu as well. The distance that once separated you felt smaller, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps, in the gentle abundance of his presence, you had found something you hadn’t been looking for. Something that, unlike the garden, wouldn’t fade with time.
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YOU STARTED TO ENJOY GARDENING WITH SOMEONE. As the days passed in the garden, you and Hironobu grew closer. His laughter filled the spaces that had long been silent, echoing in the air like a sweet melody that danced among the blossoms.
Each shared moment became a thread weaving into the fabric of your existence, bringing warmth and light into your life. The garden, once a sanctuary of solitude and melancholy, transformed into a vibrant tapestry of color and life under his gentle care.
You found yourself eagerly anticipating his visits, counting down the hours until he would arrive, a basket in hand, ready to tend to the plants that flourished under his skilled touch.
The sunlight seemed to brighten when he stepped through the gates of the vermilion hall, illuminating not just the petals of the flowers but your heart as well. Each time he smiled, it felt as though the world around you bloomed anew, and you began to notice the small joys that had previously gone unnoticed—the way the sun filtered through the leaves, the gentle rustle of the wind, and the songs of birds fluttering above.
Conversations flowed easily between you, often starting with the mundane aspects of gardening—discussing the best ways to prune the roses or debating which herbs to plant next. But as you both shared stories and laughter, the dialogue deepened, revealing layers of your souls. Hironobu spoke of his childhood, his dreams of becoming a skilled gardener, and the joy he found in nurturing life. You opened up about your life in the temple, the challenges you faced as Sukuna’s concubine, and the bittersweet longing you felt for freedom.
“Do you remember the first time you showed me how to care for the orchids?” you asked one day, recalling the way he had patiently guided your hands, teaching you the delicate art of nurturing the fragile blooms.
Hironobu chuckled, a warm, rich sound that resonated in your chest. “You were a quick learner. I think you were more excited about getting your hands dirty than the flowers themselves!”
You smiled at the memory, the image of dirt smudged across your palms and the way his eyes had sparkled with amusement. “Maybe I just liked spending time with you,” you replied, your heart racing at your own boldness.
His gaze softened, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something that hinted at unspoken feelings. “I like spending time with you too. You make this place feel alive. It’s more than just the plants; it’s the way you see beauty in everything, even in the shadows.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, filling the hollow spaces within your heart that had long been empty. You found yourself blushing, the warmth of his gaze igniting a spark of hope in your chest. In those moments, the weight of your circumstances seemed to lift, if only for a while. You felt cherished, seen, and—dare you think it—truly happy.
Yet, as the days turned into weeks, you were reminded of the solitude that lingered beneath this newfound joy. While Hironobu brought a lightness to your life, there was still an underlying ache, a reminder that this connection, as precious as it felt, existed in a world defined by shadows.
One afternoon, as you and Hironobu knelt side by side in the garden, tending to a patch of vibrant marigolds, he paused, his hands resting in the soil. “You know,” he began thoughtfully, “it’s strange how life brings us together in unexpected ways. I never imagined I would find such joy in tending a garden, especially one that belongs to someone as remarkable as you.”
You glanced at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not just the garden. You’ve brought joy into my life, Hironobu. I can’t remember the last time I felt this… alive.”
His eyes met yours, and in that moment, the world outside the garden faded away. The towering walls of the temple, the looming presence of Sukuna, and the whispers of the other concubines—all of it seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you, surrounded by the fragrant blooms and the warmth of the sun.
“I wish I could give you more than this, my lady.” Hironobu said softly, his expression earnest. “You deserve to be happy, to feel free. This garden is a refuge, but I want you to feel that way outside of it too.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, the weight of longing and affection intertwining within you. “I… I don’t know what the future holds for me, but right now, I’m grateful for this moment with you, Hironobu.”
One evening, as the sun set in a blaze of oranges and purples, you were gathering a basket of freshly picked herbs when Hironobu approached, his expression unusually serious.
“May I speak with you for a moment?” he asked, his tone almost hesitant.
You set the basket down and nodded, your heart fluttering with curiosity. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
He took a deep breath, his hands clasped together in front of him. “I want to apologize for what I’m about to say, my lady.” he started, his voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “I know it may change things between us.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Hironobu, what do you mean?”
He shifted his weight, glancing away as if searching for the right words. “I’ve grown fond of you—more than I intended to. I can no longer pretend that it’s just admiration or friendship.” He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours, filled with an earnestness that made your heart race. “I’m in love with you, my lady.”
The world seemed to pause at his confession. The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came.
“I know you are married to lord Sukuna, my lady.” he continued, his voice low and filled with regret. “And I never intended to overstep my bounds. But I had to tell you, because hiding it would only cause me more pain and I would not be fair to you, my lady.”
You took a step back, your mind racing. “Hironobu, I—”
“Please, my lady.” he interrupted gently, raising a hand to stop you. “I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed you to know how I feel. You deserve to know that you’ve brought joy into my life, more than I could ever have imagined. And if you cannot return those feelings, I will understand. I just… I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”
The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. You felt a mixture of emotions—surprise, fear, and an undeniable warmth that surged through you at his words.
“I never wanted to put you in this position, Hironobu.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve enjoyed our time together so much, but I… I’m married to lord Sukuna. You know how he is.”
“Of course, my lady.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. I just thought… perhaps there was a chance you might feel the same way.”
You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Sukuna was a force of nature, and while your relationship with him was complex, it was rooted in years of shared history—of loyalty and duty.
But here was Hironobu, his honesty and vulnerability laid bare before you. He was a breath of fresh air in your life, and the connection you shared felt like a balm to the wounds of your past.
“I—” you began, searching for the right words. “You make me feel seen, Hironobu. Happy. But this isn’t simple. I can’t just—”
“I don’t want you to feel pressured, my lady.” he said, stepping closer, concern etched on his features. “I expect nothing. I only wanted to be honest about my feelings. And take care of you, my lady. You deserve that much.”
You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions almost overwhelming. “I appreciate your honesty. It means a lot to me, truly. But I can’t deny that this is all very complicated. I never intended for this to happen.”
“I understand, my lady.” he replied, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and sadness. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I’ll be here for you. I care about you, and I want to help you in any way I can. I will be your servant, for as long as I live.”
In that moment, something shifted between you. The air felt charged with unspoken possibilities, and though the path ahead was uncertain, the connection you had with Hironobu felt undeniable. You might not have the answers now, but there was a warmth in the garden that promised a new beginning.
“I see.” you said softly, your heart pounding. 
“My lady, I adore you. I always will.” Hironobu said, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll always be here, tending to the garden—and to you.”
As he turned to leave, you watched him go, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. You couldn’t help but wonder what this new chapter might hold, not just for you, but for both of you. In the garden’s gentle embrace, you felt a sense of hope begin to bloom, fragile yet persistent.
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YOU THINK YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THE PERSON TO PRAY. But in the past ten years, you found yourself finding relief in prayer. It reminds you of your mother’s piety, of your father’s mumbling whispers to the gods, your brothers and sisters sitting beside you.
You haven’t seen them in ten years. But you wish they were well. And even if you don’t see them anymore, this gives you relief.
You knelt in the inner sanctum of the temple, bowing your head in prayer before the statue of Bishamon. Your lips moved silently, asking for a clear mind, but no matter how hard you prayed, you could not banish the thought from your head—Hironobu, your loyal gardener, had confessed his love to you.
It had taken you by surprise. You were Sukuna's concubine. You could not be with Hironobu. And yet, he made you happy in a way you hadn’t known was possible, and your heart was torn. To tell Sukuna was out of the question. If he knew, he could kill Hironobu without hesitation. You shivered at the thought.
The flickering light from the temple’s lanterns cast shadows on the walls, their soft glow doing little to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. How could something so pure—a love untainted by power and possession—be so wrong? How could you feel joy when the very thought of it put Hironobu’s life in peril?
Your mind returned to that moment, the way his eyes had softened when he spoke his feelings, the tenderness in his voice. He had always been gentle, always there with a quiet presence, nurturing the garden you so often found peace in. And now, he wants to nurture you. But you were Sukuna’s, bound to him by fear and something you could never quite define as love. Duty, perhaps. A twisted form of devotion. But love? That was not something you could claim to feel for the man who held you in his iron grip.
A soft breeze swept through the temple, brushing against your skin like a whisper, and you closed your eyes, imagining for a moment what life might be like if things were different. If you could run. If you could be free. But such thoughts were dangerous, reckless even, and you knew you would never act on them.
Just then, you heard footsteps behind you, a familiar presence that made your breath catch. Sukuna.
"I didn’t know you prayed," his voice cut through the silence like a blade, deep and commanding, bringing you back to the harsh reality of your situation.
Your heart raced as you slowly rose from your knees, turning to face him. He stood in the dim light, towering over you as always, his gaze sharp and penetrating.
"I did not take you for a pious woman," Sukuna continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, scrutinizing you.
"Piety is a comfort, my lord," you replied quietly, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. "It eases the soul to have someone that listens."
Sukuna’s eyes flicked toward the statue of Bishamon for a moment before returning to you. "Hm," he muttered, unimpressed, though his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. "Then do you pray to me?"
You blinked, taken aback by the question. "What do you mean, my lord?"
Sukuna stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes dark and intense. "Am I not a god?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous. "Your god?"
For a moment, your breath faltered, but then you gathered yourself. You had to be careful. You had to choose your words wisely. A soft, almost bitter smile tugged at your lips. "My lord," you whispered, meeting his gaze with a quiet defiance, "do I not worship you already? Does my entire existence, my suffering, my love for you—" your voice grew quieter, but sharper, "—is it not enough worship for you as my god?"
Sukuna’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. His gaze remained locked on yours, and for the first time in your life, you saw something close to uncertainty flicker in his eyes.
But you did not feel victorious. You felt hollow. Because no matter what you said, no matter how sharp your words were, you were still bound to him. Still trapped.
And Hironobu? He would never be yours.
The silence between you and Sukuna stretched on, thick with tension. His gaze remained locked on you, unyielding, as though searching for something deeper within you—some trace of weakness, some sign of betrayal. But you stood tall, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t let him see your turmoil, couldn’t let him suspect that anyone had stirred your heart, least of all someone as lowly as a gardener.
Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, though there was no amusement in his eyes. “Careful with your tongue, woman,” he said softly, but the threat in his voice was unmistakable. “There are limits to even my patience.”
You bowed your head slightly, a gesture of submission. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me if my words displeased you.”
He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze piercing through your very soul, before turning away, his crimson robes trailing behind him as he walked toward the temple’s entrance. For a moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, thinking he was leaving, that the conversation had come to an end.
But then he stopped.
“You seem… distant, little one.” Sukuna remarked, his voice casual but laced with suspicion. He didn’t turn to face you, but you could feel his eyes on you, even without seeing them. “Something troubles you.”
Your heart froze. Did he know? Could he sense the conflict within you?
“No, my lord.” you replied quickly, too quickly, the lie on your lips before you could think. “I am merely tired.”
“Tired? This does not seem to be you, little one.” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the way his eyes bore into yours made your pulse quicken. “I don’t believe you.”
Your throat tightened as you scrambled for something, anything, to say. “I—”
Before you could finish, Sukuna took a step closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand shot out, grabbing your chin with a roughness that made you wince, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“I am not someone who tolerates deceit, little one.” he growled, his face mere inches from yours. “If something weighs on your mind, you will tell me. Now.”
The air around you felt suffocating, your mind racing with thoughts of Hironobu. You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t. The truth would mean death—for Hironobu, perhaps for you as well. But Sukuna’s grip tightened, his impatience growing, and you knew you had to give him something.
“I am troubled, my lord. you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. “But it is not something that concerns you, my lord.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but still suspicious. “Everything about you concerns me. You belong to me.”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It is only… the weight of my life, my place here. Nothing more.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your chin loosening slightly. “Your place is exactly where I put you, little one.” he said coldly, his fingers trailing down your neck in a way that made your skin crawl. “Do not forget that.”
“I haven’t, my lord. You must not have to worry.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 
For a moment, he seemed to study you, searching your face for signs of rebellion, of disobedience. But then, slowly, he released you, taking a step back. You wonder if it was relief or it was disappointment you truly feel — knowing that he does not ask, that he lets you go. You purse your lips in a tight line. But you know that he does not wish to notice it. 
“Good.” he muttered, turning away once more. “Do not forget who holds your life in their hands.”
With that, he strode toward the exit, his presence leaving the room like a dark cloud finally lifting. You stood there, frozen, the echoes of his words reverberating through your mind. He didn’t know. Not yet.
But how long could you keep this secret? How long before Sukuna’s suspicions became too great, before he began digging for the truth? You had already slipped too close to the edge today, and it terrified you to think of how much closer you might come tomorrow.
And Hironobu… how could you ever look at him again, knowing the danger your feelings for him brought? Knowing that Sukuna’s wrath could fall upon him at any moment?
A tear slipped down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. There was no room for weakness. Not here. Not in Sukuna’s world. But in the quiet recesses of your heart, where Sukuna could not reach, the thought of Hironobu lingered—like a fleeting ray of light in a dark, unyielding storm.
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YOU HAD EXCUSED YOURSELF FROM DINNER EARLY. And you could not take too much food when you were in Sukuna’s chambers. That had concerned Sukuna, even if he did not want to show it. You were a human being after all. And if anything was wrong with you, it concerns Sukuna. You were his. You were a part of him.
And if a part of him was unwell, he must ensure its settled. Ryomen Sukuna had not meant to stay long when he visited Vermillion hall, your residence. He had come for something trivial, something that now seemed insignificant as his eyes fell upon you.
He stood in the shadows, watching from a distance, concealed by the thick trees lining the garden. You didn’t notice him; your attention was entirely on that servant, that Hironobu. He could feel the air punched out of his chest.
The way you smiled at him, laughed softly at something he said—it was a smile Sukuna had never seen on your face before. Genuine, unguarded, free. Happy. In the truest sense. 
That wretched low life Hironobu knelt beside you, tending to the flowers, his hands moving carefully as he spoke to you. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation. No, Sukuna could understand it. It was the tenderness he had when he looked at Hiromi. He looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.It was love. It was adoration. It was devotion. Sukuna’s chest tightened painfully, and his fists clenched at his sides.
What was this feeling? A tug, something sharp and bitter gnawing at him, growing stronger the longer he watched you with Hironobu. He wasn’t used to this—this strange, almost foreign sensation. He knew anger, jealousy, possession. But this… this felt different. More unsettling
He wonders now, if he’s ever seen that smile on your face when you look at him. If you’ve ever truly been happy in the grace of his existence. But somehow, within the depths of what remains in his heart, there was pain. There was jealousy. There was anguish. There was grief. And he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he felt like this. His heart had long died. Died with his beloved Hiromi and yet….
His face contorted into a scowl, his jaw tightening. He turned sharply on his heel, his robes whipping through the air as he left without a word. The sight of you with Hironobu left an acid taste in his mouth, and though he hated to admit it, it bothered him in a way he could not explain.
That next morning, he summoned you to break his fast with him—even rarer than supping with him.
When you arrived, the room was dimly lit from the shading silk, the atmosphere thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Ryomen Sukuna sat at the head of the long table, his scarlet eyes dark, his expression unreadable.
You felt a cold knot in your stomach as you approached him, the air between you tense and charged. You were not hungry. You could not feel any pleasure knowing that he was staring at you that way.
“My lord, I greet you with fervent devotion.” you said softly, bowing slightly before taking your place at the table. He didn’t respond immediately, simply watching you with that same piercing gaze that always made you feel exposed.
The silence stretched on, oppressive and heavy, before he finally spoke. “I visited Vermillion Hall last night.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The way he said it, the deliberate pause—it sent a wave of dread washing over you. “I… I was unaware of your visit, my lord.” you replied carefully, trying to keep your voice steady. “You must forgive me if I had not noticed.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Clearly.”
You shifted in your seat, sensing the trap closing in around you. There was a tension in Sukuna that you had rarely seen, something simmering beneath the surface. You remained in your position, feeling a bile stuck on the edge of your throat.
You could feel the sweat fervent on your palm as you gripped your kimono tenderly, hoping he would not notice the tension and fear in you.
“I saw you, little one.” he continued, his tone low and almost too calm. “With that lowly thief of a servant...what was his name....ah yes, Hironobu.”
Your blood ran cold at his words.
You knew what your husband was like.
You had made a mistake, you knew that well.
“I saw how happy you were with him, little one.” Sukuna said, his voice tightening ever so slightly, though his expression remained controlled. “Smiling, laughing, as if there were no worries in the world. It’s a wonder I’ve never seen you look that way with me.”
His words stung, even though you knew better than to show it. You lowered your gaze, knowing you were walking a very fine line. You knew him too well. He considered you a part of him, the god he is.
And everything, it has to be about him. Your existence was taught to worship him. Loving him was the law, even if he would not give it back. And you could not have the same, you know that. 
“I—he was simply tending to the garden, my lord. We merely… spoke as we often do. It was a mere passing laugh and enjoyment.”
“Is that all?” Sukuna asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Because from where I stood, it seemed more than that, little one.”
You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as you clenched them under the table. You couldn’t lie, not to him. But the truth—how could you explain the way you felt with Hironobu without damaging yourself?
“My lord, I beg for your understanding.” you began, carefully choosing your words. “Hironobu is kind and loyal to me, to you. He tends to the garden and offers his company when I walk, to ensure that he could care for you in caring for me. Nothing more, my lord.”
Sukuna’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable. “Kindness?” he sneered, leaning back in his chair. “Is that what makes you smile like that? Is that what makes you laugh so freely? How easy are you, little one? Do you offer such a thing to everyone, is it necessary, little one?”
“My lord—”
You opened your mouth to respond, but his voice cut through the air again, sharper this time. “Do you think I am blind? That I cannot see what’s happening under my own roof?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, meeting his furious gaze. He wasn’t just angry. No, there was something deeper, something more dangerous. Hurt. Betrayal. You wonder why he feels this way. He had it clear even ten years ago that his heart had died. And that he was a god.
Because how could that be? Ryomen Sukuna was not someone to feel such things, to be vulnerable to them. And yet, as he stared at you, the fury in his scarlet eyes was laced with something raw.
“Answer me, little one.” he demanded, his voice low and threatening. “Is he more to you than just a gardener?”
The truth was clawing at your throat, begging to be let out, but you knew what it would mean. Hironobu would die. Sukuna would never allow it, would never tolerate even the hint of disobedience or disloyalty from you. And yet… Could you lie to him again?
“My lord,he is nothing but a servant tied to me to grace your glory.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You know…you know I would never betray you, my lord.”
He watched you for a moment. It was then where Sukuna stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he rose to his full, imposing height. He stalked toward you, his scarlet eyes blazing, and you felt a cold sweat break across your skin.
“If I find out otherwise, little one.” he growled, his hand grabbing your chin, tilting your face up to his. “Hironobu’s kindness won’t be enough to save him. And you—” his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “—you will know exactly what it means to displease me. You know me the best out of those fools in the concubine hall, do you not? You must know what I am willing to do.”
His grip on your chin tightened for a moment before he let you go, leaving you breathless, terrified, and more trapped than ever. You tried to calm yourself, you know you cannot show more. You cannot appear weak, not like this.
Sukuna’s wrath hung over you like a storm, and as he turned and walked away, you were left with the suffocating knowledge that your secret was on the verge of unraveling.
As Sukuna stormed out of the room, the sliding door nearly breaking along the path he left behind him, you remained frozen in your seat. The air was thick with his lingering presence, the scent of incense mixing with the oppressive tension that still hung over you. Your hands, resting in your lap, trembled uncontrollably. You felt the weight of Sukuna’s warning, his threat echoing in your mind.
Hironobu.
The thought of him twisted your heart painfully. You had always known the danger that came with even the slightest hint of affection for another man, but Sukuna had never been this close to the truth before. His suspicion was like a sword dangling over both your heads, ready to strike at any moment.
You rose from the table slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you. The silence of the grand dining hall was suffocating, every step you took feeling heavier than the last. You could barely think, barely breathe. All you could do was replay Sukuna’s words in your mind. The anger, the possessiveness—and something else. The hurt.
Could it be that Sukuna, the mighty king of curses, had actually been wounded by what he saw? You had always believed that you were just another possession to him, another piece in his vast collection of power and control. But tonight, there had been something deeper in his voice, something almost vulnerable.
And that terrified you even more.
When you reached the privacy of your chambers, you collapsed onto the bed, your body trembling from the weight of the evening. Your heart raced as you tried to steady your breath, but it was no use. Every time you close your eyes, you see Hironobu’s face, his warm, gentle smile—and Sukuna’s cold, furious gaze.
What were you going to do? You couldn’t abandon Hironobu. The thought of him being killed because of you, because of a love you couldn’t deny, was unbearable. And yet, if Sukuna found out, there would be no mercy. Not for either of you.
A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, and you quickly sat up, brushing away the stray tears that had escaped. “You may enter.” you called, trying to keep your voice steady.
The door creaked open, and to your surprise, it was Hironobu who stepped inside. His expression was calm, as it always was, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. Tension passes through you as much as fear does. You cover yourself with the blankets, as though to shield you from the vulnerability you feel for him.
“You shouldn’t be here, Hironobu.” you whispered, panic rising in your throat. “It is not allowed. This is not…..It’s too dangerous.”
“I know, my lady.” Hironobu replied quietly, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “But I had to see you. I heard that lord Sukuna summoned you and everyone was whispering about him. He was mad, and I was worried that he could harm you, my lady.”
You looked into his eyes, the warmth and sincerity in them a stark contrast to the cold, terrifying presence of Sukuna. For a brief moment, being with Hironobu felt like a balm to the storm raging in your heart. But the danger was too real, too imminent.
“My lord will not hurt me. You must know this.” You wonder if you were saying the right words. Ryomen Sukuna has hurt you. He always has, even if he does not lay a hand on you. “You must trust that.”
“My lady, still—”
“Hironobu.” you began, your voice breaking slightly. “Lord Sukuna saw us in the garden the other day.”
Hironobu’s face paled, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “What did my lord say?”
You shook your head, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. “He’s warned me. He said he saw how happy I was with you, how I smiled while we gardened today. He asked if you were more than just a gardener and servant to me.”
Hironobu’s hand tightened around yours. “And what did you tell him, my lady?”
“I told him I would never betray him. That we are only enjoying the garden together.” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep him at bay to keep you safe. He’s watching us, Hironobu. I do not want him to hurt you, over your kindness and friendship and I fear for you—”
“I won’t let him hurt you, my lady.” Hironobu interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ll leave if I have to. I won’t risk your life.”
“No, no.” you said quickly, gripping his hand tighter. “You can’t leave. That would only make him more suspicious. You are bound to me as a servant. My lord will be suspicious.”
Tears finally spilled over, and you tried to wipe them away, but Hironobu cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. “We’ll figure this out, my lady. Do not be afraid.” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “We have to be careful, even in our friendship, but I won’t let him take you away from me.”
The intensity of his words made your heart ache, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his touch, to forget the danger, if only for a fleeting second. Being with Hironobu felt like a sanctuary, a place where you could be free from Sukuna’s suffocating grip.
But as much as you wanted to stay in this moment, you knew it couldn’t last. Ryomen Sukuna’s shadow loomed over everything, and no matter how careful you were, it was only a matter of time before he would find out the truth. One way or another, even if you had rejected Hironobu, Sukuna will end up being angry. And he would kill him. He would kill him and that would break you.
“I’m afraid, Hironobu.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Not having a life of my own.”
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re stronger than you think, my lady.” he murmured. “We’ll find a way, even if it means we have to run.”
You shook your head slightly. “He would find us. You know he would.”
Hironobu didn’t argue. He knew the truth as well as you did. Ryomen Sukuna’s reach was vast, his power unmatched. There was no escaping him, not really.
But for now, in the quiet of your chambers, with Hironobu beside you, you allowed yourself to cling to the hope that somehow, some way, you could protect the fragile love you had found. Even if the world around you was crumbling.
The door creaked again, but before you could react, a cold voice sliced through the air.
“I told you, little one.” Sukuna’s voice was low, deadly, as he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes burning with fury, “there are limits to my patience.”
Your heart stopped.
You felt frozen in place.
He had seen everything.
The room felt as though it had been plunged into icy darkness the moment Sukuna stepped forward. His presence filled the air, suffocating, his crimson gaze searing into both you and Hironobu. The warmth you had felt moments before vanished, replaced by a cold, gnawing dread that clawed at your throat.
You stood up quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. "My lord—"
Sukuna’s eyes flicked to you, and the fury in them made your blood run cold. His face was a mask of controlled rage, but there was a darkness beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.
“I warned you, little one.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, each word like a blade slicing through the air. His attention shifted to Hironobu, who had risen to his feet but made no move to defend himself. There was a strange calm in Hironobu’s expression, but you could see the tension in his body, the readiness for whatever was to come.
“My lord, please.” you begged, stepping forward, your voice trembling. “Please don’t hurt him. He had done nothing wrong.”
Sukuna’s eyes snapped back to you, narrowing. “Do you think your pleas mean anything to me now?” His voice dripped with contempt. “You’ve lied to me. You betrayed me. And for what? A mere gardener?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to stay calm, to keep speaking even though your heart was breaking with fear. “He didn’t—he didn’t do anything wrong, my lord. This is my fault.”
Sukuna’s lips twisted into a sneer. “Your fault? Oh, I know it’s your fault. You allowed this to happen. You let him think he could take what is mine.”
Your breath hitched. The possessiveness in the god Ryomen Sukuna echoed in his voice was suffocating, and you knew he was on the edge of doing something irreversible. Desperation clawed at you as you stepped closer, falling to your knees before him.
“Please, my lord. Please. This is not….” you whispered, bowing your head, your hands trembling as you reached out, barely daring to touch the hem of his robe. “I beg you—don’t hurt him. He… he only cares for me. It’s not his fault.”
Sukuna stared down at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, there was silence—an unbearable, suffocating silence that made your chest tighten with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, terrified of what you might see in his eyes.
“I should kill him where he stands,little one.” Sukuna said softly, though his voice was filled with venom. “I should make you watch as I tear him apart, so you understand the price of defiance.”
You gasped, your heart shattering at the thought. “No! Please, my lord, no!”
But before you could continue, Sukuna moved faster than you could react, his hand shooting out and grabbing Hironobu by the throat. The sound of Hironobu’s breath choking in his lungs was like a knife to your heart.
“My lord, please. Please, please—Sukuna!” you screamed, rushing to your feet, your hands trembling as you reached for him. “Please, no! I’ll do anything—anything! Just don’t kill him!”
Sukuna’s grip tightened, his gaze never leaving Hironobu’s face. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice cold and mocking. “What makes you think you have anything left to offer me, after this?”
Tears streamed down your face as you fell to your knees once more, your voice breaking. “I’ll take whatever you impose upon me, my lord—I’ll never speak to him again! Or any one else I swear to you, my lord! Just… please, don’t take his life. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I’ll do anything you ask, my lord. Just spare his life. He had done nothing wrong.”
Sukuna’s grip on Hironobu’s throat loosened slightly, but his eyes remained locked on you, watching your every movement, every tear that fell from your eyes. His lips curled into a cruel smile, but there was no warmth, no mercy in it. He was enjoying this, owning you.
“Is that what you think will save him?” Sukuna asked, his tone soft, dangerous. “Your submission? Your devotion? Little one, I own you. I do not give your submission. You give it willingly. You know that.”
You nodded frantically, your voice a desperate whisper. “Yes… yes, my lord. But I swear to you. I swear, my lord. I’ll submit to you in every way. I won’t resist, I won’t fight. I would continue to be devoted to you, only you.  Just spare him, please.”
Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze flickered between you and Hironobu, his hand still wrapped around the gardener’s throat. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could barely breathe as you waited for his decision. You feel like you were going to collapse, as you stopped breathing waiting for him to say anything.
For what felt like an eternity, Sukuna said nothing. The silence was deafening, the weight of his power crushing you under its force. You knew that he could kill Hironobu in an instant, with a single flick of his hand. And yet… there was something holding him back.
Finally, Sukuna’s fingers released their hold on Hironobu, and he stepped back, letting the man fall to his knees, gasping for breath. But the danger hadn’t passed. Sukuna’s gaze was still fixed on you, dark and dangerous.
“Get out of my sight.” Sukuna snarled at Hironobu. “If I see you near her again, I’ll tear you apart without hesitation. And there will be no more mercy.”
Hironobu, though clearly shaken, managed to stand, casting a glance at you, his eyes filled with both relief and sorrow. You gave him a small, trembling nod, urging him to leave while he still could. Without a word, he turned and disappeared through the door.
The moment he was gone, Ryomen Sukuna’s attention snapped back to you, and the full weight of his fury descended upon you.
“Don’t think for a moment that this is over, little one.” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You think I’ll just forget this? That I’ll let you off with a warning?”
You looked up at him, your body trembling. “I know… I know you won’t, my lord.” you whispered. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit. Just… please…”
“Please?” he mocked, leaning down so that his face was level with yours. “You think you can still make requests of me after what I saw today?”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I beg your mercy.”
Sukuna’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, and he reached out, tilting your chin up so that you were forced to meet his gaze. “Mercy, huh.” he repeated, his voice soft, but laced with malice. “You think you deserve mercy after betraying me?”
You shook your head slightly, tears still streaming down your face. “No… I don’t. But Hironobu—he didn’t deserve to die for my mistake.”
For a moment, Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and something darker, something possessive. Then, he released you, standing up straight once more.
“You will never see him again. Never again. And not anyone.” he ordered coldly. “You will stay at my side when asked where you belong. Know your place. And if you ever defy me again, I won’t hesitate to kill him—and you.”
You nodded, your heart breaking as you whispered, “Yes, my lord.”
══════════════════
YOU HADN’T TALKED IN A WHILE. Somehow you think you had forgotten what your voice sounds like. Silence has embraced you, as much as the darkness of the once vibrant Vermillion hall.
After that fateful night, everything changed. You isolated yourself in your chambers, the once-vibrant world of your garden now forbidden territory. Hironobu had vanished, leaving only a painful absence that lingered like a wound that refused to heal. 
And there were whispers from the other halls of the temple that Ryomen Sukuna had killed him. You had expected it more or less. But it did not make it any easier. You wept in the silence of your halls.
And you had refused to eat, refused to change your clothes or wash yourself. Days blurred into one another, and the weight of your choices crushed you beneath their unbearable load.
Sukuna did not come to you. He did not summon you to his side. For a time, it felt as though you had become invisible to him, a ghost haunting the halls of the palace. At first, the silence seemed like a blessing; a reprieve from his suffocating presence, from his cruel words and piercing gaze. But as the days wore on, it began to gnaw at you. The solitude was maddening.
The garden that had once been your sanctuary became an unbearable reminder of what you had lost. You couldn’t bear to see the flowers Hironobu had so lovingly tended, the very space where you had felt fleeting moments of happiness. The very thought of stepping outside filled you with dread. You had no desire to face the world, not like this, not without him.
You were trapped—trapped between the suffocating control of Sukuna and the hollow, aching void left by Hironobu’s absence. Every breath you took felt heavier than the last, until even breathing felt like a burden you could no longer bear.
For a time, you thought it would be better to die.
The thought came slowly at first, creeping in like a shadow at the edge of your mind. But the more you dwelled in your isolation, the more it seemed like a mercy—a release from the endless torment of your existence. You had lost everything that mattered. The love you had found with Hironobu was gone, stolen from you by Sukuna’s wrath. And Ryomen Sukuna… he had broken you. His control, his possessiveness, his cruelty had shattered whatever was left of your spirit.
One night, the darkness in your mind swallowed you whole, and you couldn’t fight it any longer.
You had waited until the moon was high, the Vermillion Hall silent. You like to think that Sukuna had ordered everyone to leave you to your loneliness. But it was too late at night. No one came to your chambers anymore. No one would stop you. With shaking hands, you found a length of silk, soft and delicate, and tied it to the ceiling beam. 
The precious gold and vermillion silk had been a gift from Ryomen Sukuna long ago. It was the very name of the hall he had gifted you. One of the hardest silks to find and make. It was a symbol of his wealth, his power. And he gifted it to you, a small echo of ownership to you. How ironic, you thought, that it would be the instrument of your final escape.
Tears blurred your vision as you fashioned the knot, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You stood on the edge, your heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the pain in your heart, the unbearable ache of everything you had lost, pushed you forward.
In the cold stillness of that moment, you stepped off the edge.
You woke in a haze, your body weak and aching, the dim light of dawn filtering through the curtains. You weren’t dead. Somehow, impossibly, you were still here. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to move, but your limbs feel heavy, your throat raw.
And then you saw him.
You weren’t sure the first time.
But you let yourself look again.
Ryomen Sukuna was sitting beside your bed, his presence unmistakable even in the pale morning light. His expression was unreadable, his dark crimson eyes fixed on you with a strange intensity. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You couldn’t speak well anyway. Your throat hurts.
You had never seen him like this before—silent, unmoving, almost still as a statue. His gaze roamed over you, lingering on the dark bruises around your neck, the evidence of your desperate attempt to escape.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place.
You turned your head away from him, shame and sorrow overwhelming you. You force yourself to speak, even if it hurts. “Because… I can’t live like this anymore, my lord.” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I’ve lost everything.”
Sukuna���s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something passing over his face. “Everything? Do you think I would allow you to take your life without my permission?”
A pained bitter laugh escaped your lips, though it hurt to do so. “I can’t even die on my own terms?”
Sukuna leaned forward, his hand gripping the edge of the bed with barely controlled rage. “You think death would be an escape from me?” he hissed. “You belong to me, even in death, little one. Running away, it will not save you from me.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I belong to no one!” you cried, the words tumbling out in a flood of pain. “Not anymore. Not after what you’ve taken from me.”
For a moment, Sukuna was silent, his expression dark and unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, his voice softened, though it remained cold. “You’re a fool.”
You turned to face him, your eyes red and swollen. “Why? Because I dared to want something else? Because I dared to love someone else? Even as a friend? My lord, I suffered for your sake. Being devoted to you like it is a law. It was…it was just a friend. A friend. And I cannot even have them. What am I to you, my lord? More than…more than someone who suffers worshiping you.”
He stared at you, his gaze penetrating, but he didn’t answer immediately. His fingers brushed against the bruised skin of your neck, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away. There was a strange, almost possessive tenderness in his touch.
“You think this makes you free?” Sukuna murmured, his voice low. “You’re more mine now than you ever were before, little one.”
You shuddered, his words striking deep. “Why?” you whispered, barely able to hold back the sob in your throat. “Why do you care?”
Sukuna’s eyes burned with an intensity that made you tremble. “Because you’re mine, little one.” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. “And I do not let go of what is mine so easily.”
There was no warmth in his words, no comfort. But for the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes—something that looked dangerously close to vulnerability. You swallowed hard, your throat aching from both the bruises and the tears. 
“Then why did you come?”
Sukuna’s expression shifted ever so slightly, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something like regret, though he would never admit it. You know that too well. Ten years of marriage to this cruel soul, this cursed man turned god — you would never hear those words of comfort. Not even if you asked.
“Because I won’t let you die, little one.” he said, his voice steady but quieter than you had ever heard it. “Not like this.”
You stared at him, your heart aching with too many conflicting emotions to name. In that moment, you realized something. You were trapped, not just by Sukuna’s power, but by the strange, twisted bond that tied you to him. He would never let you go. Not in life, not in death.
And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.
══════════════════
YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT STARE AT HIM. You weren’t fully recovered from your injuries just yet, but the healers had let you return to your daily life. You had just finished attending to your lord Sukuna in the audience hall. You stopped as he appeared before you, as you changed into more leisure clothing. 
And you were unsure what he was saying to you. But the weight of Sukuna's words hung heavy in the air, his gaze as piercing as ever as he stood before you, his expression unreadable. He was not giving you anything, but orders. And you’re curious. As much as you were surprised. 
“You will take care of the child, little one.” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Your breath caught in your throat. “A child? I know nothing about children, my lord.”
Sukuna’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement in the corner of his lips. “You will learn.”
For a moment, you stared at him, searching his face for any sign of the usual cruelty, but there was something different this time. This wasn’t a command born purely from spite or possessiveness. It felt heavier, more deliberate, as if he had considered this for a long time. You felt the familiar helplessness rise within you, the sense that you were powerless to refuse him.
“I… I will do as you ask, my lord.” you whispered, defeated. The words felt hollow, but they were the only ones you could manage. Sukuna merely nodded, his expression hard, before turning and leaving the room.
Days passed, and the dread settled deep in your bones as you waited for the child to arrive. You didn’t know what to expect, but Sukuna’s commands were absolute. There was no running from this.
And then, one morning, the child was brought to your chambers.
You stood at the door, frozen, as the small figure stepped forward. Your breath hitched in your chest as you looked down at the little girl before you. Her features were delicate, her long hair falling softly over her shoulders. She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, but there was something far older in her gaze.
The child looked up at you, her eyes startlingly familiar—crimson, like Sukuna’s. They stared into you with a haunting intensity that made your heart skip a beat. But it wasn’t just Sukuna’s eyes that made you pause. No, there was something else, something that chilled you to your core.
The girl’s face, though youthful and innocent, bore the unmistakable likeness of someone you thought you’d never see again.
Ryomen Hiromi.
Your heart clenched painfully, and the room seemed to spin for a moment. It was impossible, and yet… the girl standing before you had Hiromi’s face—her soft features, her kind eyes, but mixed with the piercing gaze of Sukuna. You’ve seen enough of her statues all around the temple palace that you’re too certain. 
You swallowed hard, struggling to comprehend what you were seeing. Your chest felt tight as memories of Hiromi flooded your mind, of the woman you had once known, the one who had been so important to Sukuna.
Ryomen Sukuna entered the room behind the child, his presence like a storm cloud looming over you both. He regarded you with cold detachment, though there was something in his gaze that suggested this was not a simple matter for him either.
“This child…..” Sukuna began, his voice calm but commanding. “is Hiromi’s daughter. The child she lost long ago.”
You stared at him, shock rippling through you. “Hiromi’s… child?”
Sukuna nodded. “I found her soul.” he explained, his voice low and steady. “It was not easy, but with the help of a… trusted friend, I was able to bring her back. Her body grew anew, and now, she is here. Alive. For me to keep, as her father.”
Your mind raced, struggling to grasp what he was saying. Sukuna had brought the child back from the dead—had found her soul and, through some dark means, restored her. And now, this little girl, this child with Sukuna’s eyes and Hiromi’s face, stood before you. 
And to be her father? Not only that, but to force you to be a mother. To raise her, knowing how much the ghost of her mother haunts you already. You do not know what to do. You could feel your lips still reflect a gaping hole, wide open in shock.
“Why me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why have you given her to me? Her mother’s kin still lives, my lord. Would they not want to know—”
Sukuna’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It does not matter what they want. You will raise her, little one.” he said simply. “You will care for her as if she were your own.”
You took a step back, overwhelmed by the weight of his demand. “But I don’t know how to care for a child, my lord I—”
“You will learn. You are not half–witted, aren’t you?” Sukuna interrupted, his voice sharp. “There is no other choice. I have willed it. And you shall follow it.”
Your lips parted, but no words came out. You wanted to argue, to refuse, but you knew it was futile. There was no escaping Sukuna’s will. He had given you this child, and there was no turning back now.
The girl stood quietly between the two of you, her small hands clasped in front of her, watching the exchange with an unnerving calmness for someone her age. Her eyes—her father’s eyes—bore into you, as if she already knew more than you did, as if she carried the weight of her past life with her. Her mother’s face haunted you already. Why? Why must you be haunted like this?
“This was Hiromi’s child. And I cherish her.” Sukuna said again, more softly this time, as if the words held a deeper significance for him. “Now, she is mine. Mine own daughter. You will raise her for me.”
You could only nod, the enormity of it all crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Sukuna’s presence was suffocating, but the child’s gaze was what unsettled you the most. It was as if Hiromi’s spirit lingered within her, a ghostly reminder of the life Sukuna had shared with her, of a woman who had meant more to him than perhaps you ever could.
And now, you were tasked with caring for the last piece of Hiromi that remained in this world—a child born from tragedy, resurrected by Sukuna’s dark power.
“What is her name?”
He stops for a moment.
“Chiharu.” He says in response. “Ryomen Chiharu.”
“Very well, my lord. I will… do as you ask, my lord. I shall care for your child.” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked down at the little girl. She met your gaze with those unnerving eyes, and you felt a strange chill creep up your spine.
Sukuna lingered for a moment longer, his gaze flicking between you and the child before turning to leave. As he walked away, his parting words echoed in your mind.
“Do not fail me in this.”
Days turned into weeks as you adjusted to the new rhythm of life with Chiharu, the little girl now under your care. At first, it felt surreal to be responsible for someone so precious yet so fragile, a living reminder of a past life you could barely comprehend. But as time passed, the weight of your circumstances began to feel lighter, replaced by a sense of purpose you hadn’t expected to find.
Young Chiharu was a curious child, with a spirit that seemed undaunted by the complexities of her existence. She often wandered the halls of the palace, her footsteps soft against the cold stone floors, exploring every corner with wide-eyed wonder. It was in those moments that you found yourself drawn to her, your heart softening as she chartered away, her laughter ringing like music in the otherwise somber atmosphere of the palace.
Every evening, you would sit together in the garden in the Vermillion hall—the one place you had once avoided. Underneath the lush foliage, you would share stories, and slowly, you learned more about her.
Chiharu would speak of her dreams, her favorite flowers, and the little things that made her smile. She spoke of animals she wished to have, tales she had heard of distant lands, and the kindness she hoped to find in a world that had been cruel to her before.
As you listened to her, you found yourself revealing bits of your own life, your own fears and desires. With each passing day, the bond between you grew stronger, entwining like the vines in the garden. You shared laughter and quiet moments, and you began to feel a warmth blossom in your heart—a sense of family you had thought lost to you forever.
It was during one of these serene afternoons that Chiharu turned to you, her bright scarlet eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Mama.” she said softly, her small hand reaching for yours. 
The word felt foreign, yet sweet on her lips. Her mother was someone that she will never get to know again. You knew were not her mother, you knew that too well. But you felt a swell of warmth in your chest at the sound, as if she had bridged a gap that had long remained unfilled. You were not born to be a mother, you knew you would never be one. And yet, in her eyes — you were. You were born to be her mother.
“Yes, my sweet little flower?” you replied, your heart fluttering at the connection that had formed between you.
“Why did lord Sukuna name me Chiharu?” she asked, her gaze steady and curious.
You paused, contemplating how to answer her question. “Chiharu means a thousand springs, little flower.” you explained gently. “It’s a beautiful name, one that speaks of new beginnings, renewal, and growth.”
The little girl tilted her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “But why did he choose that name for me?”
Your heart ached at the thought of Sukuna’s motivations. “I believe he saw something special in you. Perhaps he wanted to honor your connection to your past, to lady Hiromi. You are her child, Chiharu. And in a way, you are also a part of your lord father.”
“But you are my mother.” You hear little Chiharu whisper. 
You did not know what to say. 
You try to recover from her words.
You smile, for her sake, you think.
But you smiled for your sake too.
“We are both your mother.” You whispered back to her, putting her stray hair against the back of her ear. “But I am the one here at this moment, little flower.”
You watch her eyes brighten at the thought. “Truly?”
“Truly.” You smiled wider at her.
“What about my father?”
“Hm, what about my lord, little flower?”
Chiharu’s brow furrowed. “Do you think he loves me?”
The question caught you off guard. “I know he cares for you. That’s what I believe. In his own way, he has love.” But none for me.
Her small face lit up with a smile, though it was tinged with innocence and uncertainty. “I want to make him proud.”
A lump formed in your throat at her words. “You already make me proud, sweet flower. And that is what matters most.”
The connection between you and the young girl continued to deepen, woven through shared moments and quiet revelations. You discovered that Chiharu had a talent for painting, her little hands creating vibrant images that brought life to the entirety of the Vermillion hall. And you could not help but find joy in such revelations.
You encouraged her to explore her creativity, and soon, the once-dim walls of your home were adorned with her colorful drawings, depicting flowers, animals, and fantastical creatures. Even if the servants were concerned, you waved such words away. The Vermillion hall looked brighter with the scarlet flowers she drew everywhere.
Ryomen Sukuna would occasionally visit, his presence like a thunderstorm that cast shadows over your peaceful existence. When he did, Chiharu would run to him, her bright scarlet eyes sparkling with delight.
Despite the tension that accompanied his visits, you could see that he had a soft spot for her—a fleeting warmth that illuminated his otherwise cold demeanor. He adored this young girl, more than you know. He had given her such warmth more than anyone you had ever seen. 
One evening, as dusk settled over the Vermillion hall, Ryomen Chiharu presented one of her paintings to Sukuna, her little hands trembling with excitement. “Look, lord Sukuna!” she exclaimed, holding up a vibrant depiction of a cherry blossom tree, the one standing in the middle of your never–ending gardens. “It’s for you!”
Sukuna studied the painting, his expression inscrutable, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes. Perhaps pride, perhaps surprise. “You’ve done well, little blossom.” he said, his tone low and steady. “You had captured the lady’s cherry blossom with exquisite likeness.”
The child beamed at his praise, her cheeks flushed with joy. “Do you like it?”
“It is… acceptable, little blossom.” he replied, and though the words were blunt, there was a hint of approval lingering in his gaze. “I am certain that you will make more.”
You had wished that this was your life.
That you live forever in this moment.
But you knew better than to wish for that.
As the night deepened and the shadows in the grand hall stretched longer, Sukuna rose from his seat, his presence overwhelming as always. You called for Chiharu, who hesitated, her tiny face scrunching up in a pout. She clung to you, reluctant to leave, her voice soft, "I don’t want to go. My lord doesn’t come often anymore… I want to tell him about my day."
You knelt down, brushing your fingers through her hair and smiling gently. "He’ll come tomorrow, just like he promised, little flower." you reassured her, though a small part of you doubted the certainty in your words. She needed that hope, even if it felt fragile.
With one last glance toward Sukuna, Chiharu allowed herself to be led away by the servants, her footsteps fading down the hall. Silence settled between you and Sukuna, thick and awkward at first. He didn’t look at you immediately, instead gazing out into the night through the open windows, as if lost in thought.
“You take good care of her, little one.” Sukuna finally said, his tone gruff but softer than you expected. It was strange hearing thanks from him—it sounded unnatural coming from the King of Curses, yet there was sincerity in the rough edges of his words. "For that… I thank you."
You blinked, the weight of his gratitude sinking in. It felt strange, almost surreal. Sukuna, of all people, expressing appreciation. You inclined your head, accepting it quietly. "It’s nothing, my lord. She deserves the best care."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable this time, though. Instead, it felt like a mutual acknowledgment of the one thing you shared—a fondness for Chiharu.
You’ll never love me. you thought, the truth of it sitting heavy in your heart. But you didn’t need to say it aloud. You already knew. Still, the small moments like these, where his walls slipped just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something more, were what you held onto. You treasured whatever you could get, however fleeting.
Sukuna’s gaze finally met yours. It was sharp, piercing as always, but there was something softer lingering beneath his usual coldness. "I’ll come tomorrow. Like I promised."
And for tonight, that was enough.
After he departed, you drank a little. 
It was better to mourn what could not be early.
When Chiharu returned, well bathed and dressed for the night, the two of you sat together beneath the cherry blossom tree in the garden. She had to dry her hair before she could get some rest. Her small hands clutching the other painting she had made tightly. 
“Do you think he really liked it?” she asked, her voice soft.
You smiled gently at her, cupping her face in your hands. “I believe he did. He may not show it, but he cares for you in his own way. You are a light in his life, little flower.”
Her eyes sparkled with hope, and for a moment, you felt a sense of unity in your small family, a connection that defied the darkness surrounding you.
As the petals fell around you like confetti, you realized that despite the chaos of your circumstances, you had created a sanctuary for both yourself and Chiharu—one filled with laughter, art, and the promise of new beginnings.
And in those moments, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a piece of happiness amidst the shadows.
══════════════════
IT WAS JUST ANOTHER NIGHT. But it was still something that caused you grievance. As night fell and the palace was shrouded in silence, you found yourself restless, wandering the dimly lit halls, your thoughts heavy with the weight of your circumstances.
Chiharu slept peacefully in her little room, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the window, casting soft shadows on her innocent face. You paused to watch her, a smile tugging at your lips, but it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar ache in your chest.
The truth was inescapable: no matter how much joy Ryomen Chiharu brought into your life, the shadow of Hiromi loomed over you like a specter. You couldn’t shake the feeling that everything she represented was a constant reminder of your own insignificance in Sukuna's world.
Hiromi had been the one to hold Sukuna's love, the one whose memory seemed to linger in every corner of the palace. She was the woman who had given him a child—a child who was now the light of his life, while you remained in the dark, clinging to scraps of his attention. It was a bitter thought that twisted in your mind, gnawing at your heart.
As you lay in bed, staring up at the intricately woven patterns on the ceiling, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to Hiromi. She had everything: his love, his devotion, a child who would carry a piece of her with her always. And what did you have? Nothing but the remnants of Sukuna’s affection, which felt more like an obligation than anything else.
You turned onto your side, burying your face in the pillow, trying to drown out the thoughts that haunted you. But the more you tried, the louder they became. You could still hear the echoes of his voice from earlier, the way he had looked at Chiharu with an intensity that made your heart clench.
He was a monster, but he was her father—someone who had chosen to resurrect her from the depths of despair. He had given her a life filled with warmth, while you were left with the remnants of a hollow existence.
“Hiromi has everything in my lord Sukuna.” you whispered into the darkness, your voice trembling. “A dead woman, and I have nothing.” Tears slipped from your eyes, soaking the fabric of the pillow. “She gave him a child, love, and he keeps it. And nothing of me.”
You couldn’t understand why it hurt so much. You had wanted to be close to Sukuna, to carve out a space in his heart that felt like home, but every time you looked at Chiharu, you were reminded of your failure. You were the one who existed in the shadows, the one who couldn’t compete with the memory of a woman long gone.
You closed your eyes, squeezing out the tears that felt like a dam breaking within you. Each drop felt like a piece of your heart spilling out onto the floor, a tangible reminder of your torment. You were grateful for Chiharu, but the bittersweet reality of your situation consumed you.
After what felt like hours of battling your own thoughts, you finally rose from your bed and made your way to the garden. The night air was cool against your skin, and you could hear the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As you stepped into the moonlight, you were enveloped in a quiet stillness, yet it did little to ease your turmoil.
You found yourself standing beneath the cherry blossom tree, its delicate petals fluttering like whispers in the wind. It was a beautiful sight, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. You remembered how Chiharu’s eyes had sparkled with excitement when she painted that tree, how her laughter had filled the air like music.
But even as you admired its beauty, you couldn’t escape the lingering shadow of Hiromi. “Why do you haunt me?” you murmured, your voice breaking as you gazed up at the stars. “Why can’t I escape your memory?”
You sank to your knees beneath the tree, your fingers brushing against the cool earth. “I don’t want to compete with you.” you whispered, your heart aching with the weight of your confession. “I just want to be enough… for him, for Chiharu.”
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves above you, and in that moment, it felt as though the world held its breath. You could almost hear Hiromi’s laughter, see her warm smile—a gentle reminder of the life she had once lived.
A tear rolled down your cheek, and you let it fall, feeling the weight of your grief and jealousy wash over you. You had tried so hard to be strong, to forge a bond with Chiharu, but the reality of your situation loomed like a dark cloud, threatening to engulf you.
As you knelt there, surrounded by the whispers of the night, you could feel Sukuna’s presence looming in the back of your mind. He was a force of nature, a tempest that left destruction in its wake, and you were caught in the storm.
“Will I ever matter to you?” you asked softly, the question lingering in the cool night air. The silence answered you, an empty echo of your unfulfilled desires.
The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft glow, but no matter how beautiful it was, the ache in your heart remained. You rose to your feet, wiping the tears from your face, knowing that you had to keep moving forward—for Chiharu’s sake, if not your own.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and you would face them with the strength you found in your love for the little girl who had unexpectedly entered your life. But tonight, in the shadow of a woman you could never compete with, you allowed yourself to grieve—grieve for what could never be, for the love that felt so far out of reach.
As you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of Hiromi’s legacy still pressed on your heart, but you clung to the hope that perhaps, one day, you could carve your own place in this world—one that belonged to you, and to Chiharu.
══════════════════
YOU WERE EXHAUSTED FROM THE WORK ALL DAY. But as the lord summoned you, you were inclined to attend to him. That is just how it was. It has been two years now, since Hironobu, since Chiharu had come to live with you.
And a lot had since changed with the way you and Sukuna existed together. Perhaps, it is what it is. This is all that is left. You think you would like to be content with that.
The evening was cloaked in a haze of amber light as you and Sukuna sat across from each other in the dimly lit chambers, the air thick with tension. A selection of fine spirits lay on the table between you, remnants of a night that had spiraled into a blur of laughter and inebriation. But the laughter had faded, leaving behind a bitter residue that clung to your heart.
You raise your glass, your hand slightly unsteady as you downed another shot, the liquid fire coursing down your throat. It was supposed to be a moment of camaraderie, an attempt to bridge the growing chasm between you. Instead, it felt like a catalyst, igniting the frustrations that had been building within you.
Sukuna watched you with a bemused expression, but there was a glint in his eyes—something predatory, something that made your heart race. Fueled by the alcohol and the raw emotion coursing through you, you slammed your glass down on the table, the sound echoing in the silence.
"You took everything I have!" you slur drunkenly, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out. "I gave you everything I had, and I am miserable because of it!"
Sukuna’s brows furrowed, and for a moment, the playful smirk slipped from his face, replaced by a flicker of confusion. But you pressed on, the anger and despair and somehow bitter laughter mingling in a toxic blend that fueled your fury.
"You made me miserable with you! The one shot of joy I have in my life—someone who could care for me—and you take him away from me? What have I done to you to make me suffer like this, my lord?"
The room seemed to spin, the walls closing in around you as the weight of your words settled heavily in the air. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, cascading down your cheeks as you fought against the sorrow that threatened to engulf you.
"I regret you, sometimes! Everything of you, I regret!" you cried, the confession tearing from your lips like a wounded animal. A laugh escapes you. “Ah, I am driven mad. I thought….I thought to be content but somehow, I kept thinking and thinking. The questions of what if I had chosen some other path.”
Sukuna’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in your words. You could see the tumult of emotions playing across his face—anger, frustration, maybe even hurt. But he didn’t speak, and the silence hung heavy between you.
“You think this is easy for me?” he finally said, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I wanted to hurt you?”
You shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest. “You have no idea what it’s like! To live in the shadow of someone who came before me! To feel like I’m constantly competing with a ghost!”
The bitterness of your words filled the room, and you could see the flicker of something deep within him. A flicker of regret? Anger? It was hard to tell. What could there be left between two people who don’t talk? What could be left between two people who don’t understand each other well, and yet pretend they do?
“You think I don’t suffer too?” he challenged, his voice rising little by little. “You think I don’t care about you?”
You paused, the anger momentarily dissipating as you searched his face for any hint of sincerity. But all you saw was the monster—the god, the force of nature that had swept into your life and turned everything upside down.
“Then why do you make me feel like this?” you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice cutting through the tension. “Why can’t you just let me be happy? With Hironobu… with Chiharu… with anyone?”
A shadow crossed Sukuna’s face, and for a moment, it felt like you had struck a chord. But he quickly masked it, his expression turning cold once more. “Hironobu is nothing to me. He is weak, a distraction.”
“That ‘distraction’ makes me happy!” you yelled, frustration spilling over once more. “He cares for me in a way you never could! He makes me feel like I matter!”
Sukuna’s gaze hardened, but beneath that facade, you could see the conflict churning. You took a step forward, your heart racing. “I don’t want to be your pawn anymore. I don’t want to be a part of your world if it means losing everything I love!”
The air crackled with tension as the two of you faced each other, the weight of your words hanging between you. And then the dam broke. You collapsed into tears, the alcohol amplifying your emotions as you fell to your knees, sobs wracking your body. The tears spilled unchecked, your heart breaking under the weight of it all.
“I hate this!” you cried out, your voice muffled by the floor. “I hate feeling like this! I hate you!”
Sukuna stood frozen, a statue of power and control as he watched your breakdown unfold. But as your cries filled the room, something shifted within him.
He took a step closer, his presence looming over you like a storm cloud, and yet, despite the turmoil, you felt a flicker of something more—something like concern.
“Get up, little one.” he commanded softly, his voice low and steady. “You’re stronger than this.”
But you shook your head, your heartache spilling over. “I don’t want to be strong anymore. I just want to be free.”
There was a moment of silence as you both stood at the edge of a precipice, and for the first time, you could see the weight of your shared pain reflected in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” he said finally, the words heavy with unspoken understanding. “You know it well, little one. I will never set you free.”
You didn’t know if he was apologizing for Hiromi, for Hironobu, or for the pain you both carried, but it was a start. You slowly rose to your feet, wiping your tears, though the hurt still lingered in your chest. You think that it doesn’t matter anymore. It never does.
Sukuna stood before you, an imposing figure, but in that moment, you could see the man behind the monster. The flicker of vulnerability lingered in the depths of his gaze, an acknowledgment of the bond that tethered you both to a past neither of you could escape.
“I may never be what you want me to be, little one.” he murmured. “But I won’t take away your happiness again.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, and for the first time, you felt the hope of a fragile truce forming between you. It was a small step, but it was a step nonetheless, one that could lead you both out of the darkness and into the light—if only you could find the strength to keep moving forward.
The air was thick with unspoken emotions as you and Sukuna stood facing each other, the weight of your words still hanging heavily in the silence. His gaze bore into yours, a mix of intensity and something softer that made your heart race. You felt as if you were standing on a precipice, caught between the fear of falling and the desire to soar.
“I want to believe you, my lord.” you said quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying the storm of emotions still raging within. “But you have to understand… every time you pull me closer, it feels like you’re pushing me away. I can’t live like this—constantly afraid of losing everything.”
Sukuna’s expression shifted, a flicker of regret passing over his features. “I never meant to hurt you, little one.” he replied, his voice low. “But my world is not kind, and I can’t…..I can’t be what you want me to be. I cannot be kind to you.”
“But that’s just it!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling up once more. “You’re so powerful, yet you let this darkness consume you! You wield it like a weapon, and I’m the one left in the crossfire! Why am I always suffering for your sake?”
He took a step closer, the space between you diminishing as he searched your face for understanding. “I am a monster, little one.” he said, his voice raw. “I have done terrible things—things that haunt me. But I never wanted to drag you into that darkness. You deserve to be happy. But….it is not meant to be. And we are…we are stuck together, whether you like it or not, in this cage.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re the one who keeps me from it?” you challenged, your heart racing. “I’m so tired of living in your shadow, of feeling like a mere afterthought in your life. Every time I see you with Chiharu, it reminds me that I am just a placeholder—a ghost of a memory that doesn’t matter.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you feared you had pushed too far. But then he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, the warmth of his touch igniting something deep within you.
“I don’t want to lose you, little one.” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “You’ve brought something into my life I never knew I needed. But it terrifies me. And I just….I will not let you go.”
You felt your breath hitch, a rush of emotions swirling within you. “Then show me, my lord.” you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that I matter to you. Don’t make me feel like I’m just a convenience. I want to be more than that.”
His gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, the god before you was just a man—a man struggling with his own demons, much like you. “I don’t know how anymore, little one.” he admitted, vulnerability lacing his words. “But I will try.”
The sincerity in his eyes pierced through the haze of your hurt and resentment. You had spent so long fighting against the current, desperately trying to find your footing in a world that seemed intent on pulling you under. But standing here, facing Sukuna, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was a chance for something more, something real.
“I’m scared too, my lord.” you confessed, your voice trembling as the weight of your emotions threatened to crush you. “Scared that you’ll change your mind, scared that I’ll lose everything again. Or maybe you would kill me. But I can’t keep hiding from you. I cannot keep finding ways to escape you.”
The sincerity in your admission hung in the air between you, a fragile thread woven from the strands of your broken heart. Sukuna’s expression darkened as he processed your words, his usually confident demeanor faltering just slightly. He nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in contemplation. 
“I know that too well, little one.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “I know it all.”
His voice was steady, almost soothing, but the underlying tension crackled like static in the air. You took a deep breath, a sense of resolve building within you. “I want to believe you, my lord.” you said softly, each word laced with the weight of your doubt. “But you know that you are not speaking true… you lie as easily as you breathe.And I drown loving you like its law and hating you for how you taught me to love you.”
The admission feel like a heavy stone between you, and you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps regret, perhaps anger. But you didn’t back down. You needed him to hear the truth, the raw, unvarnished reality of your existence.
“It’s as if you’re a tempest.” you continued, your voice rising with the heat of your frustration. “One moment you’re this powerful force, sweeping me off my feet, promising me the world, and the next, I’m left to drown in the chaos you create. You wield your power like a weapon, and I’m the one caught in the crossfire.”
His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal struggle etched on his face. “I never meant to hurt you, little one.” he said, but the words felt hollow, echoing through the chasm of pain that separated you.
���And yet you’re the architect of my suffering.” you challenged, your heart pounding in your chest. “You brought me into your world. And all I’ve known…is misery. You say you want me by your side, but you torture me. You kill me, everyday.”
The vulnerability in your voice cut through the tension like a blade, and you saw his expression shift. There was something there—something that hinted at the turmoil he carried beneath his godlike exterior. 
“You’re not just a concubine to me.” he said, his tone softer, but the intensity of his gaze never wavered. “You mean more than you know.”
“More than what?” you spat, your anger flaring up once more. “More than a passing fancy? A moment of respite from your endless hunger for power? I am not a toy for you to play with, my lord. I’m not just a distraction from your demons, your misery. You want me to believe that I matter. You’re using me to fill the void left by Hiromi.”
The name hung in the air, heavy with the ghosts of the past, and you could see the shift in Sukuna’s expression—a flicker of pain, a crack in his facade. “You don’t understand…” he started, but you cut him off, needing to vent the storm of hurt and betrayal swirling within you.
“Understand what?” you cried, your voice breaking. “That I’m just a shadow in the light of a dead woman? That every moment I spend with you is tainted by her memory? You keep her close, a constant reminder of what I can never be. She gave you a child, love—everything I yearn for from you these past few years but can’t have. I feel like I’m drowning in your past while you expect me to be grateful for whatever scraps of affection you throw my way.”
For a heartbeat, the silence swallowed you both, the air thick with tension and unshed tears. Sukuna’s eyes bore into yours, a tempest of emotions raging beneath the surface—frustration, desire, regret. “I don’t want to lose you, little one.” he said, the words almost a whisper.
“And yet you keep pushing me away, my lord.” you shot back, your heart aching with the truth. “You think you can keep me at arm’s length, and I’ll just accept it? You can’t keep pulling me in with one hand while pushing me away with the other. I need to know that I am more than just a fleeting moment for you!”
“I’m trying!” he shouted, his voice rising, but the urgency in it didn’t mask the vulnerability. “You don’t understand the things I’ve done, the things I’m capable of! I’ve been alive for a long time, and you are the first to accept what I am. I am trying to keep you, little one. I need you.”
His raw honesty pierced through the fog of your emotions, and you felt your heart crack a little more. “Let me go, my lord.” you whispered, the weight of your own words settling heavily on your chest. “Let me be free of this burden you’ve placed on me. I want to be happy, but I can’t find that happiness in the shadow of your misery upon me.”
“I can’t.” he replied, desperation lacing his voice. “I won’t. You’re a part of me now, whether you want to be or not.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks as the reality of your situation sank in. “But I’m not sure I want to be part of this… this nightmare anymore.” you said, your voice breaking. “I’m tired, my lord. Tired of fighting for a love that feels more like a battlefield than a sanctuary.”
With every word, your resolve crumbled a little more, and you felt the exhaustion wash over you like a tide. The weight of your feelings, the burden of past traumas, and the constant strain of navigating the unpredictable depths of your relationship with Sukuna were too much to bear. You wanted to be strong, to stand your ground and fight for something better, but fatigue was clawing at the edges of your consciousness.
You could see the struggle reflected in his eyes—an intense mixture of determination and sorrow. But even in the heat of your argument, you sensed that his heart was also heavy with burdens he carried alone. You took a shaky breath, desperate for release from this tumultuous cycle of emotions.
As the exhaustion settled deeper into your bones, you felt your eyelids growing heavy, the fight within you slowly extinguishing. “I just—” you started, but the words faded as you succumbed to the comforting darkness that beckoned you.
“Just rest.” Sukuna murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. “You need to let go for a moment. I’ll be here when you wake.”
His voice wrapped around you like a cocoon, and despite the turmoil of your heart, you found solace in his presence. With one last shuddering breath, you finally surrendered to the pull of sleep, the weight of your burdens slipping away as your consciousness faded into the comforting embrace of oblivion.
In the morning, you know that nothing will change.
In the morning, you will still be miserable with him.
In the morning, you’ll love him like he is the law.
In the morning, you’ll worship him as religion taught.
In the morning, you’ll never be able to be free from him.
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xhunnybeeex · 28 days ago
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kinktober post 2
only 50 dollars an hour!
TW//: NSFW content, camboy/pornstar! Scott, phone-sex, paying for sex, innocent reader, dominate! Scott,
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You snap back into the conversation your college friends were having, watching them laugh and point at their phones. “What? Sorry I zoned out.” you murmur. “You know Scott Barringer?-” your friend asks. “Yeah?” they all try to contain their laughter before explaining what you missed. “The guy has an Only Fans.” Once the words slip out your friends all continue dying laughing. You nervously chuckle, not seeing the big deal about the situation, times were tough for everyone in college, and he was a nice guy. You had him in your English class in your second year. 
“I paid for it and girl you gotta see-” your friend giggles. Before you can even say anything, her phone is in your hand and she's scrolling through photos of the man, exposed and on display. Your mouth becomes dry as you, not really by choice, look at picture after picture of his body. 
“Yeah apparently he also does some camboy shit for like 50 bucks an hour.” one of your friends adds “what a hoe.”  another snickers, taking back her phone. You nod along and continue dinner with your girlfriends. 
As you sit alone in your dorm room, you think about the pictures you saw. Photo after photo playing through your mind. Fuck it, you think. You search up the account on Only Fans, only to be left with no results. “Weird.” you shake off. 
“Listen if you're here to make fun of me you can keep your mouth shut.” Scott says as he continues to walk in the university hallway. You had seen him in the hallway and brought up the account. “No no it's not that at all.” you trot behind him. “I saw your account and i went to go see it again and i couldn't find it. The pictures were really good.” you admit. He stops walking away from you, turning to face you. “You think so?” he asks, seeming surprised. “Yeah.” you say awkwardly. “Well…..” he shoves his hands in his pockets and moves his body close to yours. “My chatroom is still open, only 50 dollars an hour, and you get me for whatever you want.” he whispers. your body is tense, unalive and still. “o-okay,” you stutter, not being able to conjure anything else out of your mouth. “okay.” he smiles. “9 o’clock, i'll be on. I hope to see you there.” a smirk is plastered on his face as he checks you up and down before turning his body around and continuing to walk in the direction he was headed. 
you shakily type in his username on your laptop once the time becomes nine. You notice he's already online and you start to get into the chat room quicker. The payment method comes onto your screen and you quickly type in your information. Once paid, a call flashes on your screen. Your palms sweat and you press the green button on the bottom left. 
When you see Scott on the screen, shirtless and sitting at his desk, your breath hitches and your eyes immediately wander towards his chest. “How are you?” he asks. “I uh i'm alright.” you manage to get out. He chuckles, being able to see your nerves. “Relax. There's no need to be all nervous.” he smiles. You nod and sit staring at your computer, not sure what you're supposed to be doing. “This is your first time doing this sort of thing isn't it?” he asks. You nod again sheepishly and he smiles at your innocence. “Why don’t I guide us through this then.” he says smoothly. You swallow hard and he takes that as a yes, knowing you're too nervous to make out words. 
“I'm gonna take my shorts off, and I want you to do the same.” he directs. You slowly obliged and slid your jeans down your thighs. “Pull your laptop down sweetheart, i wanna see too.” he smiles, pulling off his shorts and boxers. His cock is half hard as he sits back down in his desk chair, smirking as your lips part. You pull down your laptop screen, your blue lace panties being visible to Scott's view. His eyes darted around your thighs that were spread and layed over your calves as you blush at your camera. His hand moves to his length and he strokes himself as he watches you squirm. “Go on baby don't be shy.” he coos. 
Your hand snakes to your clothed clit and slowly circles the nub. You whine and your hips gently buck up to meet your fingers, your eyes glued to scott. “That’s it sweetheart, you got this.” he praises. “Can you pull off that shirt for me love?” he asks. You nod and pull your shirt over your head, your breasts falling out and onto display from your lack of a bra. His lips part and his hand quickens its pace. “God you're gorgeous.” he pants. 
Your fingers curl into your underwear, teasing your own folds and getting covered in slick. Scotts eyes are struck by you. He knows better than to ask too much of clients, but he can't help but want to see more of you. Hell to seeing you, he wants to be in you, tasting you, touching you. His other hand travels down to his balls, squeezing himself and groaning in pleasure. 
The sounds coming out of Scotts mouth feel like a reward. You enter a finger into yourself and whine at the small stretch. You quickly insert another, feeling needy and longing for more. Both you and Scott have your hands moving quickly and desperately. His whining and whimpers become louder and Scott and see your slick pooling out and covering your panties. His tip is a dark pink, spilling out precum and begging for release. 
“I'm gonna count to three, and when I get to three, I want you to come with me. I know your close baby.” he commands. You moan and nod desperately. He chuckles and begins counting. “One,... two,... three,....” the number is like a button was pressed, immediately hitting you with your orgasm. You moan loudly, cum dripping out of your folds and your eyes fixated on Scott, who has cum spurting out of his tip and covering his chest, moaning your name quietly, not really wanting you to hear him. Your fingers ride you out of your high and you eventually pull out your wet fingers and wipe them on your undies. You're panting and you wipe your sweat covered forehead and chuckle nervously. 
“You did amazing.” Scott compliments. “Why don’t I see you in person next time, free of charge.” 
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AN::// HEY YALL!! Im so sorry this is so late. It’s lowkey so fucking rushed but take it or leave it. Please like if you enjoyed and let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from the current tag list. Love you all and ill see yall soon. -beee!
Tag list : @thesassypadawan @kirbie44danielle 
@niconico33333777  @heelvr78 @goldie-00 @anakinstwinklebunny @enchant5d @bxbyysstuff @quandoquires @starwalkertales @rxaddix2 @necromancerrrs @s1aywalker @stephennglass @s1ck-skv1l @jyinnc @pxscalsofia
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marigoos · 1 month ago
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Hello this a long shot call, am a citizen of Palestine. I am here to request for your support to help get my insulin (Humalog), just an injection for today to save my life please I beg.I was diagnosized with type 1 diabetes and due to current situation in Gaza I'm unable to get my insulin injection as a result I'm here begging for little financial support to help me purchase insulin for this week, am having a balance of$168. Am sorry if am sending you again this request, kindly donate any amount please. My donation link is in my pinned post🇵🇸. Thank you and be blessed ❤️
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THIS IS A KNOWN SCAM (SEE LINK HERE)
Funny seeing you here just two days after I warned a mutual about you :) I thought you recurring scammers had me pre-blocked after the last time I tagged every single soul I saw reblogging one of y'all's pinned posts. And you know what? I'll do it again. I don't care that it's 300+ people. You deigned to show your ass in my inbox, it would be rude not to answer appropriately!
IF YOU'VE BEEN TAGGED IN THIS POST:
1) don't be ashamed, it happens. I just ask that you kindly delete your reblog or edit it, and warn your followers
2) this is a known scam, they keep trying with new usernames. In general, the red flags here are: generated username (3 english words in a row), very low end goal (they're usually several thousands USD), Paypal (less protections), Humalog/insulin, they say they're vetted but not who vetted them, very recent blog with lots of reblogs of popular posts but unrelated to the topic.
Singularly they're not that weird, but if you see any of those elements you should be more wary and do some research before reblogging!
3) try to follow a scam buster, I follow @/kyra45 (or at least take note. She has some resources that can be useful to check every once in a while)
4) don't feel obligated to come and thank me or apologize for falling for it, that's a lot of you and only one of my inbox °v° it's ok, really, I get it. I've fallen for scams before, it's not your fault I swear
5) if you were tagged but never had anything to do with this scammer: I typed everything manually because it was faster, I may have made a mistake. Do contact me so I can mention the right person ^^"
Next day edit: got blocked, they graciously left another ask in my inbox so I'm adding some more people to my mentions list :3 please notice how they went overnight from magnificentdraginengineer - paypal name lavender namisi, to vallarysblog - paypal name vallary wanjala. They'll keep doing this so get familiar with the text of the ask instead of the name, it's going to serve you in the future
'Nother edit: I'll just keep adding all name changes in the tags. First tags are the latest names
And since we're here, > I Also Made A Post To Collect All Actual Palestinians That Came To Me To Ask For Help (and I took time to check out and make sure they were legit, unlike this one) <
@judaswail @nothingventurednothinggained123 @sintribos @igothurtdoingsafetydance @freetobezii
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tritoch · 3 months ago
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Have you got any thoughts to share about Sphene? I saw your post about how misrepresented FFXIV’s female characters are, and I’ve been hoping to see anything more than the typical “Evil AI colonizer etc.” or “Tragic woman who can never change ever” or “Wuk Lamat’s girlfriend”. Maybe our interpretations will differ but I’ll be happy if you can provide anything more complex than those.
Sure! Throwing all this under a read-more for anyone who hasn't finished 7.0 yet. I think I'll probably expand on this more later but wanted to get initial thoughts down. (Note after writing: I meant this to be brief but uhhhh brevity is not my strong suit sorry. This take just sort of ends abruptly because I realize I'm rambling.) Again, spoilers through the end of 7.0 MSQ.
I think Sphene is the sharpest work the game has done yet in casting the antagonist as the noble double of the protagonist (a well it returns to a lot with Emet, and Zenos, and Golbez, and...). But because the protagonist here is Wuk Lamat and not the Warrior of Light, that's also a much more defined and interesting role. To me, Wuk Lamat is, above all, the Righteous Queen, who rules thoughtfully, wisely, and justly, and whose claim to the throne is justified by her moral clarity. Sphene, in turn, is also a wise and good queen, one who undertakes all her actions with her people first in her hearts, a sense of compassion towards all, and a clear eye for the consequences and costs of her intended course of action. And it leads to utter disaster, for her, her people, and the people of Tural. That rocks!
The first half of 7.0 is about justifying the fact that Wuk Lamat's going to be Dawnservant. Wuk Lamat is compassionate, curious, wise, and open-minded. She wins over rebels and malcontents not by asserting her authority or by strength of force, but by taking her obligations to them (as her subjects) seriously. She knows many of her subjects personally and takes a great interest in their lives, and she respects even those who openly oppose her.
And everything Wuk Lamat does, Sphene does to 11. Wuk Lamat respects her subject peoples and is curious about their cultures? Sphene forcibly annexes Yyasulani, but goes out of her way and expends Alexandria's limited resources to enable the remaining Xak Turali to live in their accustomed way if desired (…to the extent allowed by the new permanent lightning storms and the internal conflicts caused by regulator adoption). Wuk Lamat cares about her people not just in the abstract but as individuals? Sphene visits sick kids, knows them by name! Wuk Lamat understands the burden of rulership is too great and cedes half her power to her brother? Sphene recognizes her own weaknesses and makes a deal with the devil to keep Alexandria's culture alive! Wuk Lamat is willing to die for her people? Sphene will forcibly traumatize herself into being a better queen, if that's what rulership demands.
For an expansion that spends the first half being like "wow isn't this perfect candidate for the crown so likable and humble? wouldn't it be nice to be ruled by a good king?," it sure is funny that the final boss is THE QUEEN ETERNAL and she hits you with attacks like LEGITIMATE FORCE and ABSOLUTE AUTHORITY and ROYAL DOMAIN. This, to me, is Sphene's role: she complicates and questions the themes we've developed in the first half. Most importantly to me, she makes us ask: what is devotion to a people or culture even worth?
There's a thing I kept thinking of constantly during Dawntrail, not because I think it directly influenced the game in any way but because the parallels were so stark and startling. It's Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers #18 (2014). Truthfully, I'm not a big comics guy; I only know this sequence because Ta-Nehisi Coates cited it as inspiration for his Black Panther run on Twitter once (I also didn't read TNC's run, I was following him for politics talk). Forgive me, comics people, if I get any details wrong. The parallels are almost comical, though. It goes like this:
A superhuman secret society formed of some of the smartest heroes (and villains) in the land re-forms to oppose an existential threat caused by incursions from other dimensions that threaten to cause literal collisions between Earth and its alternate dimension counterparts. Seeing no other alternatives, they undertake work on a weapon to destroy these other worlds. T'challa—king of a fictional hyperadvanced nation called Wakanda, and also the superhuman Black Panther—meets with his ghostly predecessors, the previous Black Panthers/kings, for he fears the moral stain on his soul and the souls of the people of Wakanda, if they survive explicitly by killing their alternate counterparts, will be too heavy to bear. His ancestors are not impressed.
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To them, there is no question at all. A king's duty may be complex in the execution, but it is simple in its conception. Your people come before all others. Always. This is, must be, the fundamental ethic of a good king. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of the social order on which this imagined good monarchy is built. In a situation like this, the only option is to do what you must to protect them. "Will there be a cost? Yes. Might the universe burn? Let it. . . . You will kill them all if it means Wakanda stands. The golden city must never fall."
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"I will do what I must" is Sphene's guiding principle. It is so important to her that when she recognizes that her sentimental attachments are making her waver in her duty, she severs them entirely, sacrificing her whole identity to the throne. It is also implicitly Wuk Lamat's position: she has no choice but to fight Sphene because to do otherwise would be to fail to protect her people. In fact, it's briefly even sort of the Warrior of Light's position, as when you tell Sphene before her trial that you understand what you must do, which is shut her down to protect others.
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(One quick thought about the Warrior of Light: one cool thing about the antagonist this time being a double in a more exact way than Emet or Zenos is that it means other characters get a chance to relate to her differently than Wuk Lamat. The Warrior of Light, for example, is pressed into her service immediately upon your first meeting as the Queen's Champion, there to defend her if need be against all evil. This role is further affirmed by both robot Otis and Endless Otis, who essentially hand off their role as her knight to you, and reinforced when you flash back to the "might I call upon your aid" moment right before the end. Except, of course, you are loyal not just to her, but to the principles she represents, which her own acts betray, and so your ultimate act of aid is to essentially pass judgment on her and execute her. In a sense, you become the internal safeguard that a political system is supposed to have to protect against this very issue, and which Alexandria explicitly lost when it cast out/forgot Otis. Very Voeburt/ShB tank quests, it owns.)
But really, it's Sphene who embodies this sort of grim logic best. Aside from her transformation into the Queen Eternal, it's also why she suggests you simply become Alexandrians. It's the only way for her to reconcile her values and worldview, which have backed her into a corner where preserving Alexandria has come to mean a maximalist declaration of war on all life outside its borders because the kind of absolutely pain-free life she envisions for her citizens is completely unsustainable.
In this reading, one of Sphene's main beats is to unsettle what has preceded her in MSQ. In nearly all respects, she shares your values. She prizes life, is curious about other cultures, believes in the greatest good for the greatest possible number. But she is also a queen, and therefore irrevocably (in her eyes) tied to her state. Gulool Ja Ja and Wuk Lamat (and Koana) are the mythical wise rulers, thank god--but what if Wuk had inherited a Turali state that wasn't desperately in need of cross-cultural understanding, but one in a state of war? What value would her deep love for the people of Tural have held then? Sphene says, it would have held no value. If the survival of your people means harming the innocent, you harm the innocent. Kingship allows for no alternatives.
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But she also concedes, in the very next breath, that she is still kind of wrong. Because what happened here was not inevitable, despite her programming (a brief note: to me Sphene being programmed is exactly the same as Emet being maybe-tempered, it's a fantasy gloss on the idea of social and cultural education. "I was programmed for this" is really no different from "I was trained and educated for this"), because the truth is that this kind of thoughtful, principled devotion to the state and its people is also a form of sentimental attachment, in the end. One that is maintained not because it is natural, and necessary, but because the monarch, too, likes it, and gets something from it.
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In so many ways, in so many senses, the monarch is the state. Kings and queens may fancy themselves merely a reflection of their people's needs and desires, but of course even a cursory glance at history will tell you that far more often, states reflect their rulers. Sphene and Wuk Lamat both suggest that their conflict was inevitable, but was it? Or is the truth, as Sphene glancingly acknowledges here, that she turned her own fears and desires into the same policy goals that led to this tragedy? And if so...what does that say of our Good Queen, Wuk Lamat? Perhaps this could be different if they met earlier, says Wuk Lamat. But when? When did Wuk Lamat ever not love her people so dearly that she would not have sacrificed herself for them, or caused mass death for the sake of their survival? When did Sphene not believe the Endless to be people, or the preservation of Alexandria to be the most important thing? Maybe she means "had we met before you met Zoraal Ja," but of course, we the player actually saw their meeting. And we know that Sphene even then was not the hapless naif she'd like to pretend. She always knew exactly what she was doing.
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We know the price of this kind of thinking, this Hobbesian view that states are engaged in a struggle of all against all. Living Memory lets you walk through it. To preserve Tural, we exterminate the Endless. We befriend them, learn about their lives, promise to remember them, and then we destroy them and their homes, leaving nothing but a bleak blank landscape and the sound of wind. This is what Sphene would have done to Tural and Eorzea. Indeed, it's what she's already doing to the people of Yyasulani, because no amount of well-intentioned aid can make up for trapping people under the dome for 30 years and systematically eroding their culture through the resonators.
To me, this is what makes Sphene really work, that way she has of forcing Wuk Lamat and the player to commit the same kinds of sins she has. We'd like to think ourselves better than her, but of course, we've already reconciled with and integrated Mamook's brutal eugenicist regime back into Turali society well before we ever met Sphene. At the end of our long "wow isn't having a wise queen cool???" expansion, we are met with "Legitimate Force" and "Absolute Authority" and see them for what they truly are: nothing but tools of violence. No longer does the idea of the Warrior of Light hanging around Tural as Wuk Lamat's advisor have the same attraction, now that we have been reminded of the way the putatively unquestionable logic of kingship can ultimately lock even the wisest and kindest rulers into a path of war and exploitation and destruction.
I think Sphene is FFXIV's most interesting and nuanced depiction yet of a leader. She really, truly, wants nothing more than to save her people and protect them from pain. But even seemingly loving and compassionate goals like these can readily lead us down dark paths. She's a "hard men make hard choices"-type character, a noble but misguided opponent, but as a loving and elegant fairy queen instead of a grizzled knight or extremely sad man. She fucking rocks.
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himezoro · 9 months ago
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roronoa zoro's guide to relationship
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before anything : tysm for your support on my first post!! i'm working on a long piece to celebrate starring the loml here. feel free to request anything your heart desires, i'll be happy to oblige ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
here's a headcanon of what a relationship with roronoa zoro would include in my opinion.
warning: gn reader, use of "you" and "them", sfw, but sexual intercourses implied! i'll write a dedicated nsfw one if you want to ;)
wc : 1,070k+.
being in a relationship with roronoa zoro would include :
being used as a body pillow. zoro is a heavy sleeper, and his s/o would be the best body pillow ever. he won't admit it, but he feels pretty sad when he's on watch duty and can't sleep alongside their s/o in their shared bed. if his s/o complains about being too hot, he would much prefer pouring an ice cold buck of water upon them rather than moving his body a little. his giant body won't move.
being teased about your habits. zoro is observant and likes a good laugh. so, he would pick on all the small (cute) things his s/o does that feel funny to him. you're sleeping with a stuffed bear ? he would tease you by arranging it in the most deranged scenes ever. you're hugging any of your newest purchase after buying them ? he would tease you by mimicking you with his bottle of sake. be prepared to be constantly teased on.
however, this man won't let anyone make fun of you, and would always defend your honor (even if that third party would make fun of the same things he teases you about). he would yell at luffy and usopp so bad if they dared pulling the smallest of prank on you (remember that scene where he makes luffy drink a whole glass of water at the baratie ? yeah he'll make him drink the whole ocean this time lol)
having his hand on the small of your back while you walk. when a crewmate mentions it to him, he just huffs and acts like "it's nothing". actually, he didn't even notice it himself, but the way his hand falls on your back so naturally is beyond any scientific reasonings. this gesture alone speaks volumes about his love and affection.
making you talk about the smallest of things. roronoa zoro is not the most chattery in the whole crew, but he lives for listening to the voice of their s/o. he would ask you to read a passage of the book you're reading, talk about what you liked and disliked for hours, the latest gossip on the Sunny, anything would make him happy. his head would naturally fall on your lap as he daydreams while rocking on the sound of your honey-like voice. (he would love hearing your voice in bed)
being trusted, valued and respected. zoro would give his all to his s/o. this man is so focused on his dream and his loyalty to luffy would mean so much, that choosing commitment means he would respect and value his s/o for their personality, experiences and ethics. the second he decided it was the right decision, after a lot of introspection, his heart would be left into your hands for you to do as please. he's also really careful as to not push your boundaries, and always asks for consent for anything. anyone with eyes can see how much he adores you and values your existence.
being constantly protected. even though he respects your abilities, he cannot help but keeping an eye on you anywhere, at any times, even when you're not around. he's on high alert, constantly on watch. during combat, he would go rampage if someone dared to touch you, and i'm not talking about being hurt. if that were the case, zoro would not even be able to look at you (in scared of being too "softened") before destroying the enemy with pure sadism.
being kissed all the time when you're alone. this boy hates PDAs, which could be one of the reasons why his has his hand on your back so no one can really see lol. that does not mean he won't look at you with love and adoration in public, offering you a quick and genuine smile or wink when your eyes lock. but when alone, zoro reveals himself as a passionate lover. he would kiss you endlessly until your breath runs out, and would kiss you again when he's given the "go". his kisses would be long, and he would trap you in his huge arms the whole time, running his hands through your waist, hips, legs and ass. he won't say it, but he loves it when you cup his face during the kiss or run your fingers through his green hair. bonus if you grip on his shoulders during intimate moments, where he would kiss you harder and a tad rougher. with him drinking a lot, be prepared for some amusing kissing sessions where he could kiss you with his mouth full of sake (unless you're not drinking, which he would totally respect!!)
him showing off to sanji just to fuck with him. hell, he would lick your whole face in front of the chef if that could set him on fire. that would make him laugh his ass off.
having heated arguments. zoro is stubborn and can be impulsive. if he's in a cranky mood, he may raise his voice at his s/o for nothing important, but he would be feeling so sorry after that. he would shyly apologize in what feels like a whisper, but he would give you some space for a little time before doing so.
being told "i love you" when he thinks you're sleeping. zoro is not chatty, and again, you know he loves you, and he knows he does. anyone with eyes can see that. but sometimes, when the rythme of this life gets too crazy, or when he feels the need for you to hear these magic words and for him to vocalize his feelings, he would say "i love you" in the most intimate way possible, in the crook of your neck when you're sleeping, before pressing a kiss to your temple. little did he know, you heard it every single time. he would also say it during really intimate and slow make out sessions and intercourses. however, he would often thinks "i love them", at the most random times when he's looking at his s/o : seeing them eat ? shower ? dance ? reading ? he's loving them all the time. 24/7. (he just needs the courage to say it each time he thinks it, but then he would look like sanji and he can't have that)
being his. zoro won’t admit it but he loves knowing you’re his, and having the others know it as well. he is so proud of you, and proud to have such an amazing partner. and he would have no shame in saying he’s yours.
don't start me but zoro would be the type of guy to say "i'm not taking a shower unless it's with you" lol.
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spencersssockss · 10 months ago
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Shaving
Summery: Spencer is exhausted after his first day back at work after being released from prison. You help him shave and comfort him.
Warnings: razor (being used to shave), post-prison Reid, nightmares, mention of bruises and cuts, fluff…
Word count: 700
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Spencer was a mess when he came home from jail. Covered in cuts and bruises and heavy bags under his eyes. He was struggling, he was overjoyed to see you but so many things had changed about him.
Being in prison stripped him of his self, he couldn't function the way he could before. He had nightmares, he was paranoid, and he was overprotective of everything.
You understood him though, you knew it would take time, and you knew even with an eternity he wouldn't be the same. You just wanted him to be at peace again.
He was exhausted after his first day back at work, physically and mentally. He still had to shave as he still hadn't since he got home, but all he could do was sit in the corner of the bed in silence his head in his hands.
“I'm worried about you,” you say putting your book down and sitting beside him.
“I know,” he sighed placing his head on your shoulder.
“I know things are hard, but I can't help if you don't let me in,” you say grabbing his hand and holding it gently.
“I don't want you to know about the horrible things that happened, you wouldn't see me the same,” he mumbled turning his head from you.
Grabbing his chin and making him look into your eyes you say, “Nothing could change the way I feel about you, I love you, Spence, I just want you to be happy again.” His eyes threaten to spill tears making you hug him tightly.
“Here, I'll help you shave, just relax,” you say standing up from the bed taking his hand in yours, and walking to the bathroom.
“You don't have to,” Spencer frowned.
“I want to, I see you struggling to keep your eyes open, just let me,” you reply pushing some of his messy hair behind his ear.
“Okay,” he finally obliged sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You open a drawer, grab his razor and shaving cream, and sit in front of him on your knees.
“Ready?” you ask smiling at him.
“Yup,” he replied finally cracking a smile filling your heart with happiness. You squirted some of the shaving cream onto your hands and spread it across his face, grabbing the razor to begin.
The razor slid across his skin gently removing all his facial hairs from beneath it. “Am I doing okay?” you ask putting your hand on his thigh for balance.
“Yeah, it's perfect,” he smiled once again looking down at you. You finished shaving and pecked his lips gently, standing up rising out the razor, and putting it back in the drawer along with the shaving cream.
He wrapped his arms around your waist and turned off the bathroom light as the two of you walked back to the room to change and go to sleep.
You changed into your pajamas and so did he, the two of you climbing under the covers together as Spencer held you close in his arms.
“Do you wanna know the real reason I've been having trouble sleeping?” he asked making you turn around to look him in the eyes.
“If you’re ready to tell me,” you say smiling softly as he grabbed your hand.
“I was scared you were going to leave, you know?” “cause I've been so distant and weird lately, when I'm with you I feel safer than I have in a while,” he said a stray tear falling down his cheek. “I didn't want you to leave,” he repeated letting more tears fall.
Your arms wrapped around him as you held him close, he cried softly into your shoulder making your heart shatter.
“Spencer, I'm always going to be here for you, I wouldn't ever leave you,” you answered rubbing his back soothingly.
“Promise?” he asked looking up at you with his tear-stained cheeks.
“Promise,” you answered, wrapping your arms back around him as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.
“I love you,” he spoke gently.
“I love you too,” you cooed holding him close as he fell asleep.
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giveafike · 12 days ago
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One where Jude and his girlfriend/wife go for a swim and she‘s scared? Thanks!
TLDR: Wife!reader x JudeBellingham on holidays, but he doesn't know about your fears.
Word count + info: 2.3k! Blurb! Tiny bit of Spanish incorporated, some dialogue too : )
Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! Mention of Thalassophobia + a panic attack, if that is a trigger, proceed w caution!! Otherwise, nothing more : ).
Azzie Notes ✚: HI!! First ever Jude ask here! I'm sorry it took me a while to get around to this req, anon! I hope I did it justice for you, I was struggling with writer's block for this prompt for some time, thinking how to flesh it out.
Also, I made a twitter ( @azziegivesafike !!) Feel free to follow and msg me about non requests there, I'll be posting life updates, story + req updates and spoilers/teasers alongside other things, so it'd be nice to have a community over there!
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Waves - J.B.
The sun hung high and lazily over the quiet Mediterranean countryside, casting long shadows on the rolling hills of olive trees and wildflowers. You and Jude had stolen away from the world, far from the roars and pressures, to a little coastal town where time felt like it had slowed down and life felt more gentle. Jude’s off-season was sacred, a time for just the two of you, to reconnect without the distractions of football, press, and the ever-present hum of expectations. No obligations. No noise. Just love.
It wasn’t out of character for Jude to plan some sort of surprise during your time together. Sometimes it was a romantic dinner; other times, it was a helicopter ride over a city. But this time, he had gone a step further, maybe even a step in the wrong direction.
You walked hand in hand down to the dock, the scent of saltwater thick in the air. Jude was rambling on, his voice bright with excitement. He had planned a surprise: a yacht, just for you two, to spend the day on the open sea. His voice lilted with that familiar Birmingham cadence, thick and warm like the breeze that carried your laughter.
“I’m tellin’ ya,” he said, his eyes glimmering as he spoke. “Pre-season training camp’s gonna be intense, but I’m already buzzin’ for it. New lads seem sound, and we’ve got a proper chance at the title this year.” His hand squeezed yours as you neared the marina, the glint of the water stretching endlessly ahead. “But none of that matters now. Today, it’s just you and me.”
You smiled at him weakly, though your heart had already started its familiar, uneasy thud in your chest. The yacht, sleek and pristine, bobbed gently on the water. All you could see was the endless expanse of ocean beyond, that shimmering surface stretching far beyond the horizon.
You had been trying to get better, to be better, to manage your fear. But this was a step far out of your comfort zone. You're not really sure what or when your fear of water had really sunk into you but all you could remember was that prickly, hot, sickly feeling when you stood near a deep pool or saw videos of massive waves engulfing everything around it. The anxiety is all too familiar, the numbness in your body taking over each time.
With Jude, you’d started dipping your feet into pools, sometimes even wading up to your hips, standing at the shallow end of Jude’s villa pool in Spain. But that had taken everything, deep breaths, quiet pep talks, and the promise that you were safe. It made you feel awful seeing Jude splash around, wide-smiled and unafraid, while you sat by, fearing you might accidentally fall into the pool if you dangled too far in. You felt as though you might even hold him back in that sense. You had convinced yourself that in this bubble with Jude and his quiet and still pool, you were secure and okay.
But here, staring at the open sea, none of that safety was present. Still, Jude’s excitement was infectious, his beaming smile too bright to dim with your fears, his big brown eyes shining. You bit your lip, your fingers twitching in his as your pulse began to race.
Jude caught up in his excitement had barely noticed. He was a great husband, always attentive but his excitement overcame was overcoming all his senses and thoughts.
“Just wait ‘til we’re out there,” he said as you boarded the yacht, the sun catching the sea in dazzling shards of light. “You’ll love it. The water’s clear, you can see the coral and fish. It’s so perfect. No one or nothing around, just us.”
You stepped aboard, the fabric of your sundress flowing in the salty breeze, trying to focus on his voice, his plans for the afternoon, his talk of peace and quiet. But as the boat moved further from the dock, the tether to the land slipped further from view, replaced by the endless, glassy water that stretched on all sides. The small town grew minuscule in the distance as if it was swallowed entirely by the rippling waves.
The boat stopped near a small private swimming spot, the crystal-clear water below revealing hints of vibrant coral and fish darting below the surface. You could see Jude’s eyes light up as he gazed down at the water, his joy palpable. He blabbered on about all sorts of fish he could see, how quick they were, how clear the water was; all of it wasted on your deaf ears as you tried to slow your breathing for the umpteenth time. You could barely nod along, but your heart now thundered in your chest, trying desperately to ground yourself in the conversation.
“Uh-huh, and what’s the coral like? Pretty?” you forced out, voice thin and tight.
Jude grinned, already pulling off his shirt, his skin gleaming in the sunlight. “Yeah, proper beautiful down there. You’ve gotta come in with me, babe. You’ll love it.” He gestured to the water as he stood on the edge of the boat, his excitement undiminished. “Look how clear it is!”
You gently rose and glanced down at the water, the clarity revealing the depths below, a whole world of coral, fish, and sand. Your breath caught.
How far down does it go? What’s lurking beyond what you can see?
The distance between you and the ocean floor felt infinite as you stood a few steps from the edge, a chasm of the unknown. You tried to distract yourself, to hold onto the sound of Jude’s voice.
“I think I’ll stay here,” you called back, your voice small, like it might shatter if you pushed too hard. “I’m good on the boat.”
But Jude had already dived in, his sleek form cutting through the water, disappearing for a moment before resurfacing with a joyful whoop. He tread water effortlessly, his laughter echoing across the calm sea. “Babe, you’ve gotta feel this, it’s like bathwater! Perfect day for a swim!”
Your stomach churned as you watched him, so comfortable in a place that made you feel so small. The water cradled him, bright and blue and endless, while you stood on the deck, now tiptoeing towards the edge, gripping the railing like it was your last anchor to safety. Your knuckles were white and your hands clammy as you peered down. The gentle sway of the boat beneath your feet seemed to pull you toward the water, a slow, inevitable tug that made your head spin. It was almost as though it was mocking you, the waves teasing you, the fish swimming in hypnotic patterns to try to pull you to them, the gentle waves hitting the boat as a threat; it was far too much stimulation.
Your thoughts became your enemies. That clear water, once serene, now felt like a mouth, gaping wide, ready to swallow you whole.
It’s so deep. The ground’s gone. You’re so far from land.
You tried to push the thoughts away, focusing on the warmth of the sun, the distant cry of a seagull. But the waves inside your head began to build, crashing over your mind in relentless surges.
Your pulse skyrocketed, your heart pounding like a drum inside your chest, each beat louder, more frantic. Your breath quickened, short, gasping. The air around you thinned, each inhale shallower than the last. You felt that bundle of knots twisting painfully, feeling sickly and disgusting inside, the feeling of sweat prickling against your skin, tears burning your eyes. The sounds around you went mute as your ears rung loud; you knew full well what was coming.
The boat, once a place of peace, now felt like it was moving beneath you, rocking harder, tipping you toward the water. Your grip on the railing tightened, your knuckles bone white, but the world blurred as though the sun itself had turned against you. It was too bright. The horizon was too far. Everything spun as if the boat was dissolving into the sea.
“Jude...” The word barely left your throat, choking on the tightness that had coiled around your chest. When you moved, your legs gave way, useless, wobbling like they no longer belonged to you.
You’re going to fall if you stay standing here. You’re going to drown.
Panic seized you.
It crashed into you like a tidal wave, slamming you against the rail, knocking the breath from your lungs. You staggered, your knees giving out, collapsing onto the deck, falling onto the small step rather than off the boat. Your chest heaved as you gasped for air that wouldn’t come, the world shrinking to nothing but the wild, frantic roar inside your own head. The sensation was like drowning, without ever touching the water. You crawled and wobbled to the sunbed, digging your nails as you landed your hands on it. Your limbs were heavy and useless like they were trapped under an invisible current, the weight of it pulling you under.
Your cries felt muffled, swallowed by the sea of your mind. The world spun violently. Your vision blurred, darkening at the edges as your throat burned, air refusing to fill your lungs. The boat swayed, or maybe it was just you, thrown again and again against an invisible tide, your body curling in on itself. Your hair stuck to your face, tangled, distorting your vision as if the water had already risen up to surround you. You could feel it, cold, wet, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Your limbs felt like dead weight, too heavy to move, too weak to fight.
You were drowning. Drowning on dry land.
The harder you fought to breathe, the more your chest constricted, the pressure unbearable, your vision narrowing to nothing but the dark tunnel in front of you. You couldn’t see. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t breathe. The sound of your own gasps filled your ears, and the world dissolved into nothing but the relentless, terrifying roar of the panic gripping you.
Jude’s laughter stopped, his voice barely piercing through.
“Babe?”
His voice felt so distant, a muffled echo in the chaos of your mind. You barely registered the splash of water as he pulled himself back onto the boat, the pounding of his footsteps as he rushed toward you.
“Hey, hey, love, I’m here. I’m right here.”
His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with the warmth you desperately needed. His voice, once carefree, was now a steady anchor in the storm thrashing through you. He wiped away the tears you hadn’t even realised were falling, his thumb brushing your skin with gentle strokes.
“Shh, it’s okay, cari��o. You’re okay. Breathe with me, yeah? Just breathe.” His forehead pressed gently against yours, grounding you, bringing you back to something real.
Your lungs ached, your chest still tight, but you fought to follow his words.
Breathe. Just breathe.
You struggled to match the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. His chest rose and fell against yours, a steady, calming presence. Slowly, painfully, your breath began to slow, the sobs leaving your mouth, the grip around your lungs loosening little by little.
“Eso es, my love,” he murmured, his lips brushing soft kisses across your forehead, through your hair. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” His hands stayed steady on your face, never leaving, his voice a constant, unwavering presence, pulling you back from the edge. He swept your hair back, away from your face, rubbing circles on your back.
“I-I didn’t know that you were scared of- well I-,” he whispered, the guilt heavy in his voice. “I wish I had known. I should’ve known. God, I would never put you through something like this,” His voice cracked, and he hugged her tightly, pulling her against him, his arms wrapping around her like a shield. “I didn’t see it. I really didn't know. I’m so sorry, cariño. I should’ve seen it.”
She let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling, but the worst of the panic had ebbed, her head resting against his shoulder, safe in the circle of his arms. She could feel the regret and sadness in every breath he took, his chest rising and falling with the weight of it.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I never knew how...” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to ruin it for you, you were so excited, Jude.”
“You could never ruin anything for me,” he said softly, his lips brushing her temple. “Never. If I’d known, I would’ve never brought you out here, love. I’m such an idiot.” He kissed the top of her head, squeezing her tighter. “I should’ve realised. I was too caught up in everything…”
For a long moment, they stayed like that, her breathing finally steady, the calm returning as she clung to him, his solid, comforting presence pulling her back to herself. He kept whispering soft reassurances, holding her close until the panic had all but faded, replaced with the warmth of his embrace.
After a while, Jude pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and spoke softly. “I’m taking us back to land. Somewhere small, quiet, just us. Somewhere with your feet on solid ground, yeah?”
She nodded, breaking a small smile while tears still clung to her lashes, but she felt safe. “Somewhere dry would be nice.”
He smiled, kissing her one last time before getting up. “No more surprises, I promise. There's a little village close by, waiting for just the two of us.”
As the yacht turned back toward land, the pier coming into view in the distance, she knew that with Jude by her side, she could face anything.
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begko · 1 year ago
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keep quiet. -seijoh 4
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else
contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)
wc: 1.2 k
a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!
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Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 
They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 
Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 
“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.
Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.
“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 
Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.
“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.
While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.
You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 
Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.
“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 
“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.
After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 
You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?
“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”
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storiesfromafan · 13 days ago
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Chaos - Draco x Reader
A/N: so I am finally posting a Draco one shot. Thank the lovely Sabrina Carpenter for this, as Taste inspired me 😂
I am feeling really inspired by both Sabrina and Taylor Swift. I have an idea for imgonnagetyouback for Mattheo, which will have a choose happy or f' you ending haha.
If anyone has any songs that could inspire me, or have you coming up with an idea, please share them and I'll give writing them a go 😊
Warning: use of the word shag, not really language but bitchiness. Mean spirit. Sass is real.
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Slytherin's are known for being territorial. And if you so much as touch, speak to or glance to long at a Slytherin's partner, you better get out of Hogwarts asap. Or deal with the consequences. The worst  being the females. They are never to be trifled with, because those girls aren’t afraid to use their fangs. Either you will be physically dealt with, or your reputation would become null avoided. You will be the low of the low, a blimp on a social map. Moaning Myrtle will have more social standing then you.
But put female Slytherin vs female Slytherin, and it is pure chaos. And you like chaos. Live and breath to deliver it. Which brings us to current events. Draco and Pansy had broken up a few months ago. Of course being one to despise the annoying leach, that Pansy is, you were there for Draco. And in the process got to have your fun with him. Which in fact was fun for him too, as I quote ‘Pansy was always clingy and annoying. She barely did anything for me, I hardly wanted to touch her' end quote.
You obliged poor Draco. Sneaking off to snog in empty classrooms or halls. Light and heavy petting. Not to mention some interesting places to shag. He might not have been number one in that department – cough Mattheo Riddle cough – but Draco was top three. And you just know there were rumours flying around – maybe partially from your own mouth – and dear, dreary Pansy had to have heard about them. In fact you hoped she did. You welcome the chaos that will bring. She needed to be brought down a peg.
You woke up this morning, showered, done your hair and make up, like usual. And you chose today to drop the shit storm that you had been scheming. The day before Pansy had been a royal c you next Tuesday. The tipping point being making you fall from your broom, thankfully you hadn’t been too high off the ground. Prior to that it had been a lot of passive aggressive comments. So, you knew you had to finally give it to her.
Moving to your uniform on the bed, you smiled sweetly as you imagined how this was going to go down. One of your room mates called out you would be late for breakfast if you don’t hurry. Without missing a beat you up on the skirt and button up shirt, followed by your tie, socks and shoes. Choosing to for go your cardigan, you needed your choices to have full effect. With one last look at yourself, you grabbed your bag and headed to the Great Hall.
You noticed the looks you got from those in passing. And when you made it to breakfast, the looks you got only intensified. Yet no one said anything. Your room mates looked to you, then each other and then back to you. But remained quiet. They knew there was a reason for your uniform today. But decided to not ask questions, this way they wouldn’t be implemented in your scheme.
You knew people were whispering to each other, but never addressed you about it. Not even from your walk from the Great Hall to your first class; Transfiguration. By the time you arrived to class everyone was there except for a couple of late shows. You walked into the room, eyes looking to you as you walked closer to the front were Professor McGonagall stood.
The older woman cast a glance to you, eyes moving on till they flew back to you. She took a couple steps forward, gaze analysing you. The way her face went from blank to slight annoyance seemed to go noticed by you. But you were about to be addressed.
“Miss (L/N)” McGonagall began, making you look to the woman just before you took your seat, and all attention on you. “What in Devils are you wearing!? Where is your uniform!?”
You faked embarrassment. “I’m so sorry Professor. I was in a rush this morning and looked to have put on the wrong shirt". Such a lair you are. But it was part of your plan.
She tsked. “Not good enough Miss (L/N). After morning classes you best change into the correct shirt".
With that the Professor turned and went to the front of the room. By now all students were present. You took your seat, feeling curious eyes upon you. Along with the whispers around you at the elephant finally being addressed.
Transfiguration was lack lustre. McGonagall just rambling on, and the persistent whispers about you. Finally free, you exited the classroom with your room mates. Unfortunately, yet perfectly planned, just down the hall was your target: Pansy. She was with both Draco and Blaise. As you approached, about to pass, did she make her presence known.
Turning to her two companions, yet gaze on you, Pansy spoke rather loudly. “How scandalous to be wearing a males shirt. I wouldn’t dare advertise my escapades".
Perfect. She took the bait. You smiled, stopping to turn to the three. “What escapades would you have to advertise? From my knowledge you weren’t one for really that much".
The students who just happened to be around for the interaction snickered. Pansy's face flushing in embarrassment. Ah, how you felt some satisfaction. But wanted – needed more, hoping she would fire up. And you got your wish.
Turning to glare at you, hands on her hips. Pansy relied, “what I get up to is no ones business!”
“Hmmm" you mused. “Really? Again, I know first hand you don’t get up to much dear".
If smoke could have come out of ears, Pansy's would be going off. She sputtered with words before finally getting out, “well at least I don’t wear some random guy’s shirt!”
Ah, the magic words you had been hoping for. Leaning in, biggest grin on your face, you said; “oh it’s no random guy’s. I know exactly who's shirt this is...”
Pansy looked to you with baited breath. So you went on.
“Maybe you should check Draco's closet sometime. Either he’ll be missing a shirt, or he may have one of mine. I don’t know, I haven’t counted my shirts lately". Your tone was sickeningly sweet, like honey.
If looks could kill, you’d be dead. Pansy looked like she wanted blood. Draco stood behind her, having watched and heard it all, looking fearful of the two of you. For you see, it had been almost two weeks since they’d gotten back together. Though you didn’t believe for long.
“Why you-" Pansy began before you hushed her.
“Now, now Pansy" you slightly sang, leaning in so she could hear you. “Every time you close your eyes, and feel his lips, you’re feeling mine. And every time you breathe his air just know I was already there”.
Pansy watched you, taking in your words. It was simple truth you were spilling. And she hated it.
You stepped back, wicked smile on your lips. “You can have him if you like. I’ve been there, done that once or twice" you shrugged. “I know I’ve been known to share". Finally sealing it all with a cheeky wink.
With that you turned around and began to move on to your next class. Letting your words sink into the retched girl. And when you reached the end of the hall did you hear her shrill, angry cry. Ah, music to your ears. The sheer joy you felt right now. Knowing how you burst Pansy’s bubble was the perfect chaos for the day.
You know she would come for you. Physically or verbally. Either way, you were here for it. Ready to go to battle. Only downfall was poor Draco, being collateral damage. But you know he would get over it, or you’d let him get over you to make up for it.
Unbuttoning the collar button to Draco's shirt and loosening your tie, you kept making your way to class. A shit eating grin on your face, and pep in your step. Chaos really was one of your best past times.
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just-some-trans-nobody · 10 months ago
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Nick Valentines x GN reader
Pure fluff for y'all, with a touch of angst at the end. I know theres like zero demand for fallout 4 fanfic but I made a poll idk how nany months ago asking if I should make some Nick Valentine fanfic and I got a couole of yes and exactly one follower from that poll. So this goes out to the small anount of people who said yes and that one follower I got from it, theres nore Nick fanfic to come I've just haven't gotten around to it yet but I promise I'll post some every so often.
Like always minors don't interact!
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He loves playing with your hair when he thinks your asleep. Sense he doesn't sleep he'll join you in bed when he needs a break from going over files and lay down with you so he can olay with your hair.
It started with him sitting on the edge of the bed looking at the wall as he thought about his most current case but when you started to stir in your sleep, having a bad dream, he laid down next to you and held you in his arms whispering sweet things to you until you calmed dow.
He found himself enjoying having you in his arms. Thus started a routine of him slipping into bed with you every so often to take a break.
Normally he would take a smoke break when you slept but he found himself craving a cuddle more than a smoke lately.
Soon every so often turned into every night of him crawlling into bed with you and getting up before you woke.
One night he had been loat in thought about something and hadn't noticed you waking up until he heared your tired voice ask him what he was doing.
"What? Oh sorry didn't mean to wake ya." He said pulling his hand away.
He was surprised when you asked him to keep playing with your hair. More than happy to oblige he started playing with it again.
It soothed you back to sleep in his arms snuggling into his chest as you slept soundly.
The next night when you got into bed you patted the spot next to you with an expectant look.
"You want me to join you or somethin?" Nick would ask looking to the bed then to you. Nodding you head you gavw him a big smile.
Who could say bo to that?
Nick was now "going to bed" with you every time you were. Really it was him laying in bed playing with your hair as he talked avout whatever case he had currently going on until you fell asleep.
He wouldn't admit it, at least not out loud but he adored this nightly routine the two of you had going on though he never hid the smile on his face every time he saw you getting ready for bed or how fast he was to crawl into bed with you to cuddle.
Nick always played it off cool as if it wasn't the favorite part of his day or anything.
If you asked he would probably say aomething like. "Just doing my job to keep those pesky nightmares away." Or "only making sure you don't stop breaming in your sleep. You humans are rather fragile after all."
Acts as if he isn't often the first one in bed waiting for you.
Before he atarted cuddlibg you every night he would work straight through the night till morning. He wouldn't even realized you had gone to bed till you walked oast him yawning telling him good morning.
Now though? He reminds you every night at 9pm sharp that you need to go to bed.
He'll play it off as your human and need to get a healthy amount of sleep as he actively take his coat and tie off to get comfortable.
If you buy him a pair of pajamas to wear he'll laugh avout it and say he doesn't need them.
He's wearing them the very next day.
If you gad gotten them before he started cuddling you every bight he would just give you a weird look for the thoughtless gift and put it in his empty dresser to collect dust or to be used by guests staying the night. He didn't sleep why would he need pajamas?
Now though? Might own three different pairs
You bet they match with your pajamas.
If anyone else sees him in his pajamas he'll puff out his chest as he puts his hands on his hips. "What? You never seen a synth in lounge wear before? Beat it, it's time for bed."
Nick takes bed time very seriously.
He's big spoon. It feels weird for him to be little spoon
Wont fight you if you want to try big spooning for once but he wasn't really into it
Nick much more prefers having you in his arms. It helps ground him and reminds him that you truly are here now with him and bot some memory from the past seeping into his present.
That and how can he play with your hair all night if he's not facing you silly?
He will lean in every so often and place a soft kiss on your forward as he whispers a soft "I love ya." As to bot wake you.
If he ever lost you he would lay in the bed alone holding onto your pajamas as he tried to think back on all those nights he spent laying in bed with you. He would stop after a few weeks as it hurt too much but after a few years when he had time to heal he would start doing it again so he could feel like you were there again. Nick didn't know how much he missed this, how much he missed you.
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quinloki · 5 months ago
Text
Birthday Request Event v2024
Alright let's start off with the primary points:
1 - You do NOT have to give to get.
2 - You do not have to get to give.
3 - Read everything, there's quite a few moving parts =D
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Things You Can Do During This Event:
1 - Request a story from me (see the end of the post for the format!)
2 - You can give me a gift! (see "Gifting Quin" below!)
3 - Reblog this post to be entered into a raffle!
Details below the cut!
Raffle Prizes!
-:- 1,000 words of anything you want (within reason) - can be a one-shot, can be a demand for a specific title (make me work on that title you've been dying to read more of). Just has to be One Piece related.
-:- OC Cameo - I'll plunk your OC/self-insert into a story (that is not the Host Club AU ^^; )
-:- I'll draw something for you \o/ I'm not great, but hey, free art xD
Gifting Quin!
❤️ - Pin 5$ to my shirt - it's a local-ish birthday tradition.
❤️ - Share one of my stories and leave a comment \o/ You can do this whenever, but it really makes my day, so have at!
❤️ - Gift me a story, or some art 😳🥰
Ideas (please do NOT send me saucy stuff on anon or if you're under 18):
1 - Draw a scene from any of the stories you've liked! 2 - Draw Quill - by themself, or with you and/or your OC, or a One Piece character \o/ Quill can be a boy, girl, or whatever mix tickles your fancy. Have fun =D 3 - Draw what you see when you think of "Reader" for any given story. 4 - Re-write a scene for a story =O How would you tell me that scene? 5 - Write me a one-shot using the prompts below 😇 6 - Free form a ficlet, drabble, head canon, series of bullet points with ANY anime character and either a "Reader" or Quill =3 Spread your wings beyond One Piece (Wind Breaker, YYH, FMA, MHA, Habin hotel, etc - go wild 🥰)
Feel free to ask me ANYTHING if you're unsure of something
Birthday Bash Requests \o/
Finally, the part you've all been waiting for XD
*** Anon Requests Will be SFW only ***
-:- Give me some reader vibes as applicable (gender/height vibes) -:- Give me a blorbo (or blorbos) - One Piece only please ❤️ -:- Pick something from each of the lists below and then submit your ask! (any items not specified in the ask will be my choice 😇 cause it's my birthday celebration XD )
Pick 1 Vibe: SFW SFW dark SFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW Consensual NSFW dubcon/dark NSFW Yandere Blorbo NSFW noncon Writer's Choice (please include squicks if you pick dark or dub/non con options)
Pick 1 AU: Canon Universe Mafia AU Fantasy AU Cowboy AU Government Mandated Marriage AU Soul Mates AU Modern AU Hallmark AU Mythical Creatures AU Vampire AU Coffee Shop AU A/B/O AU Monster AU (you can say what kind of monster you prefer) BDSM AU Host Club AU Grandline Metro AU (Quicksand, A Light Touch, Heart of Gold, Thrice Prophesized are set in this AU) Writer's Choice (spin that wheel!)
Pick 1 Prompt: Angst / Bad End Aphrodisiac - sex pollen, drugged food, struck by needle, devil fruit Bath/Shower/hotspring Body writing (icing, ink, blood, etc.) Caught in the Act Contractually Obligated Creature x Human Date / First date Dungeon Erotically charged fight Experienced w/virgin Forced Proximity - box, flight, cell, bondage, get-a-long shirt Friend’s hot older sibling Fuck or die Lazy morning sex Long-Term Established Relationship Only One Bed Outside Pliant When Horny Role-play Roughed Up Size Difference (I write this a lot, but I do love it.) Soft/Comfort Sugar daddy/mama The hat rule They were… coworkers/neighbors/etc. Trapped in a Room Trying Again (exes getting back together) Unresolved sexual tension Wounded Writer's Choice
***Requests will be accepted from 6/1 - 7/10 - and posted from 6/1 - 7/31***
Gifts are accepted from 6/1 until whenever \o/ Don't feel pressured to get them in by 7/20 🥰
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sleepingpillscosmos · 1 year ago
Note
one sitting on the counter as the other grabs a spoon + pint of ice cream from the fridge and feeds it to their lover.
with love of my life megumi fushiguro !!!!
TAKING CARE — megumi fushiguro
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pairing: megumi fushiguro x fem!reader.
warnings/content: reader is drunk. idk if it's a warning but megumi and reader share a spoon.
wc: 1.1k.
requested: yes, by anon.
a/n: I was really exited to write this! it's my favourite prompt and someone requested it for one of my favourite characters as well! I'm behind with the event requests, but today I'll post at least another one! sorry but recently I've been really busy :(
prompt: one sitting on the counter as the other grabs a spoon + pint of ice cream from the fridge and feeds it to their lover.
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It was 1:30 am and Megumi was sitting on his couch, watching some random show he found on tv several minutes ago. He couldn't sleep, he didn't know exactly why, probably the reason was the long nap he took this afternoon.
He checked his phone, looking if he had any new notifications, but nothing new appeared. He sighed and turned his gaze back to the tv.
He was starting to doze off on his couch, but the doorbell rang, making him flinch for the sudden noise. He got up from the couch, making his way to the door. He opened the door, immediately squinting his eyes in surprise. In front of him appeared Nobara and Itadori, the latter holding you, with your arm around his neck and his around your middle to help you stand.
"What happened?" Megumi asked, sighing, already knowing what his friends were about to say.
"We went out to drink something," Nobara explained and Megumi nodded. You mentioned your plans to him this afternoon. "And she had a little too much..".
Megumi's eyes went back on you. You were still all over Yūji, probably fast asleep.
He sighed, lifting his arms towards you. "Come on, give her to me.".
Itadori immediately obliged, moving to pass you over to Megumi. He grabbed you, grunting slightly once your full weight was on him. With all this movement, you woke up.
You looked up confused.
"'Gumi!" You exclaimed when you realised who was holding you. "I missed you so much.".
You hugged your boyfriend tightly wrapping your arms around his neck, giving some sort of relief to Megumi when you lifted some of your weight off of him.
"Hi, missed you too." Megumi smiled softly to you, forgetting for a moment that your two friends were still in front of you. Yūji was smiling slightly and Nobara was trying not to laugh at his friend's lovesick face.
"I'm really tired.." You said, resting your head on Megumi's shoulder. "I know. Let's go to bed, okay?".
You nodded leaving a kiss on his neck and snuggling deeper in his embrace.
"Thank you for bringing her here. See you soon." He said to his friend before closing the door behind him.
"Are you able to walk?" He asked, his arms still around you to support you. "Don't know.".
He let out a deep breath, then he signed to you to jump by moving his hands behind your thighs. You jumped, immediately wrapping your arms and legs around Megumi.
He started to walk to his bathroom and once he entered the room he put you down on the counter.
"I want to sleep 'gumi, you said we were going to bed." you whined rubbing your eyes with your hands. "I know, but first you need to wash your face and take off your makeup.".
He opened the cabinet beside you, where you kept all your things so that you didn't have to bring them with you every time you stayed over at his apartment. He grabbed your make up remover and some cotton disks.
You closed your eyes for him, so that he could start removing everything you had on your face. He gently cleaned all your face, then he grabbed your cream and applied it to your face, trying to imitate the same movements you did every time he saw you apply it.
Once he was finished, he put everything back into the cabinets and tidied up the counter.
You still had your eyes closed and Megumi understood that you fell asleep again. He shook your legs gently and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead to wake you up, which fortunately worked.
"Megumi" You called for him, your eyes half closed. He hummed in response.
"Do you still have the ice cream we bought some days ago?" You mumbled, he raised one eyebrow "..yes".
"I want some ice cream." You said smiling, making the big doe eyes at which he couldn't say no. He sighed, then he proceeded to lift you up again to go to the kitchen.
He put you down on the kitchen counter, he opened the freezer and took your favorite flavour of ice cream. He handed it to you while he grabbed a spoon from the drawer.
Megumi passed you the spoon, leaning beside you on the counter. You took it, offering him a big smile.
You were struggling to open the ice cream, scrunching your face and using all the strength you had.
Megumi chuckled at you, taking everything from your hands. He opened the container effortlessly, then he took a spoonful of ice cream.
He positioned himself between your open legs, taking the spoon in front of your mouth. You ate the ice cream, smiling at the sweet taste of it.
"It's cold." You stated and Megumi looked at you unsurprised, "It's called ice cream for a reason..".
"Oh don't get so smart with me, I was just saying" You said to him. He hummed while he grabbed another spoonful of it.
You ate the ice cream in silence, Megumi continued feeding it to you, stealing some spoonfuls for himself. Once you were satisfied with the amount you ate, he put the ice cream back into the freezer and quickly washed the spoon to put it back in the drawer.
He came back to you and you hugged him, thanking him and asking if now you could go to bed. He nodded and lifted you once again to finally go to his bedroom.
He had his hands under your thighs, while you wrapped yourself around his frame.
Once he entered his bedroom, he gently put you on the bed, where you settled comfortably on your side of the bed waiting for Megumi to switch off the lights and finally go to sleep.
When he settled in the bed as well, you immediately hugged him, moving one of your legs over his hip.
"Thank you." you quietly mumbled, your cheek attached to his chest, "For the ice cream?".
"For taking care of me. Love you." you said, already dozing off to sleep. Megumi looked down at your frame, smiling softly as he felt the heat creeping on his neck and face.
"Always, love you too." He answered even if he was sure you couldn't hear because you were already sleeping. He kissed the top of your head, then he closed his eyes, going to sleep with a stupid smile on his face.
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pinkslipxox · 1 month ago
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Hiiiii!
May I please request a fic where reader is FWB with Miko, and after that girl Tini posts that pic on her story cuddling Miko, we decide to enlist our lovely, amazing friend Billie to help us make Miko jealous, which somehow leads to a steamy makeout at a friends get together? I'll let you decide if reader chooses Miko or Billie at the end 👀
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Ask and ye shall receive ✨ Enjoy, babes xx
***
Miko or Billie
Summary: you enlist the help of your best friend Billie after seeing an Instagram story with Miko in it and the outcome is unexpected
Warnings: slight mentions of smut, angry and jealous Miko 😫
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A soft moan escapes your lips as the kiss between you and Billie becomes more passionate. She has you pushed up against the wall as her hands roam your body, your pulse quickening. Your heart beats out of your chest at the thought of Miko catching you two at any second. You can’t help but admit that the thrill of it all turns you on.
Your relationship with Miko is rather… interesting.
In modern terms, you two are described as friends with benefits. When you two first met, one thing led to another, and soon it became a regular thing between the two of you to hook up. You didn’t mean to catch feelings for Miko but you did. Hell, how could anyone not catch feelings for her? She became your weakness, and you knew that she knew it, too.
This morning, you awoke to a photo that was driving the Internet insane. Your jaw dropped. Miko— your Miko— had her arm wrapped around another woman. Although her face was blocked by the woman’s head, you instinctively knew it was her by her tattoos. Now, while neither of you ever promised that you wouldn’t see other women, but you were upset, heartbroken. And you confided your feelings to your best friend, Billie.
“Forget about her, Y/N,” Billie had said. “Listen, a friend of mine is throwing a party tonight. Come with me.”
You hesitated at first but then you agreed. After hanging up with Billie, you texted Miko— acting as if you knew nothing— and asked her when she would be back in L.A. When she said later tonight, you had a feeling that she would most likely be making an appearance at the party.
And she did.
Miko walked into the house, fist-bumping, high-fiving everyone she passed by, unaware of your presence. You sat next to Billie, who alerted you of Miko’s presence, and you smirked at the shocked expression on Miko’s face when she saw you across the room.
That’s when an idea popped in your head.
As Miko pretended to strike up a conversation with a partygoer, you whispered the idea to Billie, knowing damn well that Miko’s gaze was on both of you. Your idea was juvenile but you were determined to get Miko back. Even if it meant crossing an unspoken line.
And Billie was more than willing to help out.
You made sure that Miko was watching as you kissed your best friend. It was quick yet passionate, yet enough to make Miko see red. Billie whispered in your ear, suggesting to go to a more private place, and knowing that Miko would surely follow the both of you, you obliged.
The door flies open. You and Billie pull away, but just enough to keep each other locked in each other’s arms. Miko’s chest rises up and down as she processes the scene in front her, her eyebrows furrowed, and her hands clutching into fists.
“What the fuck, Y/N!” Miko shouts, her anger seeping through her words.
You smirk. “Jealous?”
“I’m fucking furious!” Miko growls, slamming the door behind her.
“You’re one to talk,” Billie murmurs, mirroring your smirk as she plants a kiss to your neck, her eyes on Miko as she does so.
If looks could kill, Billie would be lying dead by now with the way Miko glares at her. It even sends a shiver down your spine. She takes a step closer.
Miko’s jaw clenches. “What?”
“The photo,” you say as if you’re stating the obvious.
“Baby, she’s just a friend. We’re making a song together, it was just a public stunt! The only woman I want is you,” Miko confesses, desperation laced in her voice.
“I’d treat her twice as better than you can,” Billie challenges, tightening your hold around you waist, making you and Miko look at her in shock.
“Stay out of this, Eilish!” Miko snaps. She then stretches her hand out to you authoritatively. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”
“Don’t fucking tell her what to do,” Billie intercedes. “If anything, she should choose.”
“Fine,” Miko spits and Billie slowly walks to Miko’s side, keeping a territorial distance from her.
You feel as if the wind gets knocked out of your stomach. The two women stare at you, holding their breaths, as you contemplate on who to choose. Someone is going to be leaving the party with you or without you, and the thought of it makes your head spin. Yet you have no other choice.
It’s either Miko or Billie.
The moment the name leaves your mouth, there is no turning back. One of the women storms out of the room without so much of a “Fuck you!”. As you kiss your newfound lover, all you can do is pray that your decision doesn’t pull you under.
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hispg · 10 months ago
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Between royalty and vows
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Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader
Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.
In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.
Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.
Wouldn't it?
Wc:3.4k
Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, (I'll put more once things start to progress).
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |
An: Sooo there is the new chapter! I was so anxious to write it and post it! In all honesty, this is the chapter that I most liked to write(so far).
I've been receiving some dms about creating a taglist, so I'll do it from the next chapter and on. If you're interested in entering the tag list, you can dm me or comment on any chapters of this fic, and I'll add you. For the ones who already talked to me, I'll put you on the list already, so you don't need to message me again!<3
Also, I'll start to crosspost this fic here and on Ao3, for the ones who prefer to read in there. Here's the link Ao3. Eventually, I'll post all chapters!
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Chapter 5: Pretty lies
The heavy rain outside was no bother to the couple in bed, just as the cold was no problem that couldn't be solved with the intimacy that had just been shared under the covers.
There he was, lying with his lover, Ashley. Warming another woman's bed, offering her the warmth that his body emanated, the love that made her heart beat faster every time.
Both were nude, without the slightest concern for anything, all that mattered was what had just happened in that room. The closeness they shared, the oaths of love spoken between each kiss, between each embrace.
They had just made love, done something that was yet another symbol of the compromising union they contained.
Leon hadn't gone back to the castle as soon as he arrived back from his trip, he had gone to his beloved's house, a hidden place that only they knew where it was, only the lovebirds met there.
It was their love nest.
The same place where Ashley gave herself to him for the first time, the same sacred place where they made love whenever they could. The place where they loved each other deeply, where they didn't have to hide anything.
Ashley lay with her head on Leon's bare chest, while he had one arm wrapped around her and the other stroking her blonde hair.
The only sound in the room was the wood cracking in the fireplace and the soft breathing of both of them in that bed.
The clothes were thrown about, the silk covers hiding their shame, but if Leon was being honest, he couldn't think of a better place to be.
Because he felt at home every time he was with Ashley, even if he knew it was wrong.
And he was screwed if anyone found out.
"Are you staying?" Ashley asks in a whisper, taking the opportunity to place a soft kiss on his chest.
Leon gives her a blown smile, looking at her tenderly, "I'd love to. But you know I can't."
It was already too bold of him to come to this place to spend time with her, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go along with her every whim.
Especially as the wedding was approaching, and he was dead if he didn't show up.
She sighed helplessly, knowing full well that this would be the answer from the start. But in all honesty, what did she expect? Despite her misfortunes, she was the mistress.
"I promise I'll try to see you more, mh? My wife won't be the problem, don't worry." Leon reassured her, kissed her on the forehead and got up, soon he would be getting ready to leave.
Although he wanted to be with her for even five more minutes, he would give all the money in the world to make it happen.
"Does she know about us?" Ashley asked, picking up the blanket and covering her bare midriff.
That was enough for Leon to clench his eyes shut, buttoning his pants as he stared at her.
"She can't even conceive of it. You know our deal." It was a good deal for both sides, not least because Leon didn't even want to imagine what Ashley's father would do to him once he found out what he and his daughter were doing behind closed doors.
Ashley then sighed, the blonde strands falling across her forehead as she thought for a moment.
"Do you think you can still see me after you're married?" She asks softly, almost embarrassed by her own question.
"I'll always find a way, don't worry." He says, the sincere smile that became the perfect proof that he was saying this from the bottom of his soul.
It was always a painful farewell, but Leon knew it was necessary for him to do it. Once he'd put all his clothes back on, he turned to Ashley, taking her in his arms and planting a gentle, passionate kiss on her lips. He also made a point of pressing his body against hers to leave his cologne on her.
It wasn't enough to have his smell on the silk sheets, he needed to leave his mark on her too.
Goodbyes aside, he knew he had to leave, the sun was rising, and if he wanted to get back to the castle before it was too late, he had to leave now.
As he took the steps to leave the small chalet in the Italian countryside, where no one suspected them, he took one last look at his beloved, giving her a broad smile as he said goodbye.
Watching Ashley go all wobbly as he walked out the front door. She sighed as her lover left, waving to him and looking dreamily out of the window.
Leon walked up to the discreet carriage that was waiting for him in front of the cottage, besides the coachman, there was Leon's faithful butler, Ausdret.
And also his worst accomplice, the butler who always covered up everything Leon did, no matter how stupid it might seem or be.
"Your Highness." Ausdret greeted, leading Leon to the carriage.
"It's good that you're here." Leon replies back, tucking himself into the small carriage.
His butler nods and sits down on the opposite seat, facing Leon. Even though Ausdret knew that no one could put a halter on Leon, he was still trying to talk some sense into his young, dim-witted head.
"Your Highness do you not think it is inappropriate to maintain this relationship?" Ausdret asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
Leon scoffed, narrowing his gaze at the poor butler, acting as if he had said the worst blasphemy that could be heard.
"Come on, you're a braggart too. Don't act like you're a kind gentleman with exemplary decorum." Leon retorts, crossing his legs as he fixes the buttons on his shirt once more.
Ausdret couldn't help but sigh, trying his best to make Leon understand how problematic it would be to keep all this up.
"Prince, you have a fiancée now. This relationship is no longer suitable." The butler said once again, pausing and emphasizing his lines, it wasn't possible that this was so difficult to understand.
"Well, it'll last as long as I want it to. You know better than that." Leon says, an unparalleled coldness in his voice, it was obvious, this subject was not up for discussion for him.
Ausdret always thought that this was just a youthful romance of Leon's, in fact he never thought that it would thrive for so long, for years. Leon was a man who could have any woman he wanted, not only because of the power he possessed, but also because of his beauty.
However, what the butler couldn't have guessed was that Leon would fall in love with Lady Ashley, a princess from another place. A likely romance, but love doesn't work properly in royalty.
"But Your Highness-" Leon interrupts Ausdret before he can continue.
"I am the prince, and you collaborate with me." Leon begins, his voice becoming an authoritative, voracious whisper.
"As I'm your highness, you must agree that you didn't see anything unusual. That I was on a business trip these last few days." Leon says, his gaze narrowing once more on the servant.
What could Ausdret say? He had always supported this boy, and even with a lump forming in his throat, he wasn't going to do any different again.
The butler knew that this situation wasn't fair to you, nor to Ashley, it would only end up with broken hearts and a quarrel that couldn't be undone.
Perhaps Leon was too young to understand this, but at some point fate would catch up with him.
"So? Did you see anything?" Leon asked, almost daring him to give an answer that was the opposite of what he wanted to hear.
"No, Your Highness. I didn't see anything suspicious." Ausdret replied under his breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head in denial.
"Good." Leon grumbles back.
The journey wouldn't take long, but Ausdret already knew that the rest of the way would be filled with the ache of an inconvenient silence.
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You knew you'd end up getting into trouble with your recent actions, but that still didn't stop you from going ahead with them. At that moment you were in the grassy fields on the outskirts of the castle.
It was easy to get here, you just needed the help of Chris and your maid, Evelyn. Nothing more than a silly little lie to disguise your departure.
The view was beautiful, you felt almost at home in a place like this. You were sitting on the horse while Chris guided the animal, walking through the grass carefully while also keeping an eye on you.
You couldn't tell if you were approaching Chris out of hurt ego, or because he was someone incredibly interesting and good to have around.
Perhaps you had combined the useful with the pleasant, because in all honesty, you couldn't deny that you were enjoying all this time with Chris, even feeling more at peace with yourself.
"Well, at least you escaped the tea party." Chris jokes, looking at you with a smile.
You nod, smiling back at him.
"God, I can't imagine what it would be like to spend another afternoon with Mrs. Hisltons!" You grumble, frowning as you remember all the tedious conversations the lady has put you through.
Chris couldn't help himself and laughed out loud, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes.
"Oh, tell me about it. As soon as I got here, she gave me a good lecture on why I should get married." Chris says with a playful tone, walking slowly with you through the pastures.
You smiled a little, petting the horse as a question popped into your mind.
"But, forgive me for being impolite, but why haven't you gotten married yet?" You asked calmly, giving him the opportunity not to answer if he didn't want to.
"Nothing in particular, I just haven't found any suitors that catch my eye." He says, without much ado, getting straight to the point.
You'd think someone as cultured as him would want a woman who knew a bit more than just dresses and jewelry. Completely fair and understandable.
But you still can't help thinking that Chris was alone by choice, it wouldn't be the first time a man had preferred being alone to being married.
"I understand, but is it something you're thinking of doing? I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive." You say with a peaceful smile, trying to get to know the man you've grown so close to over the last few days.
Chris then paused and pondered, thinking of an answer that would measure up. But he couldn't think of anything more sincere than:
"Yes, I intend to." Just like that, or any other explanation.
But you saw his eyes light up a little when he looked at you for a brief moment, making you quietly gasp.
You then returned your gaze to your surroundings, the countryside that was such a contrast to the life you had. Which was far from peaceful.
Although you knew it shouldn't take you so long to get back to the castle, as they would probably notice you were gone, you could stubbornly stay here with him.
With Chris, the man who had been giving you so much comfort recently.
Chris then looked at you with a charming gaze, helping you off the horse. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you got off the animal.
Feeling his heavy, manly hands on your body made you feel something different, but you preferred not to mention it. Not least because you were being completely inappropriate for a dame.
You allowed yourself to feel the ground beneath your heels, removing the footwear from your body, feeling the grass between your toes.
The thought of returning to your new home was already distant, you could even swear that you forgot about Leon for just a moment. You forgot about the fact that he was coming back today.
And that he would be back around noon. And it was almost two in the afternoon, he was probably already at the castle by then.
But well, what would be the point of sneaking out of the castle with the Duke if not for a bit of confusion.
"You know, this is turning out to be one of the nicest afternoons I've had." Chris says, smiling and following you as you walk across the lawn.
"Oh, yes. It's nice to get out of that place for a bit." You say, looking at the sun, which is already descending.
Chris followed you, keeping an eye on every step. And you even saw out of the corner of your eye that he tried to take your hand, but hesitated to make such an intimate gesture.
You even heard the trumpets sounding in the distance, announcing the prince's arrival, but nothing that made you move from where you were.
And well, from the way Chris stood next to you as you watched the landscape of the field, he wouldn't leave until you asked him to.
At one point, you thought it would be better to leave, perhaps so as not to cause Chris any trouble. But the moment Chris's fingers touched your cheek, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, something in you sparked.
It was impossible to hide the red tinge that appeared on your cheeks, as well as the way you just ignored everything else. Everything seemed right.
You were surrendered, and you didn't want to leave this man's side. What on earth were you doing?
Why did you feel so torn? It couldn't end well.
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"Where is she?" It was the first question Leon asked as soon as he set foot in the castle, finding it strange that his fiancée wasn't here to greet him.
"The princess isn't feeling well, Your Highness." Evelyn, the maid who helped you escape, answered.
Leon wrinkled his eyebrows, glancing at the door of your chambers, he hadn't quite believed that excuse.
"Tell her I'll come and see her. She doesn't have to leave her room." Leon says, looking at the way the maid was beginning to shudder.
"She's really not well, Your Highness-" Leon didn't care how much the maid protested, he went ahead and went to your bedroom.
He opened the door without any manners, looking around as he searched for any sign of you. But he was disappointed when he found your bed empty, the room perfectly tidy and untouched. You hadn't been in that room for a while.
Your lie was already falling apart, as they say lies don't go far.
"Where is she?" Leon asked once again, this time more coldly and authoritatively, demanding an answer.
"I don't know! She was here this morning." The maid manages to stutter, unable to face Leon.
Leon clenched his fists, frustration and irritation taking over his feelings. You were getting out of hand, it wasn't enough that you'd been so bold with Chris, now this?
Even though he was away, he knew everything that was going on in that castle, and he couldn't let it continue the way it was.
Who did you think you were?
"Have her searched all over the castle." Leon demanded, leaving your room to look for you.
As soon as Leon saw that the maid hadn't moved a muscle, he added:
"Immediately." His voice was a low grunt, capable of sending a chill down anyone's spine.
The maid moved quickly, warning the other servants about the princess's 'disappearance', and they all stood by to look for you.
Nothing. They looked for you in every corner of that castle, every room, every space you could be in. And they found nothing, not a single sign of you.
Leon was fulminating, realizing that you and the Duke weren't in that castle. And you probably weren't close.
"We haven't found her, Your Highness. The princess isn't in the castle." One of the servants dares to speak, trembling at having to address the prince.
"What do you mean she's not in the castle?" Leon muttered, looking out the windows while trying to find you somehow.
And Leon had to stop himself from gritting his teeth as he watched the scene with his own eyes. You came in through the back door, a delicate hood over your head to disguise your identity.
You were sitting on Chris's horse, smiling happily as the man led the horse inside. You seemed so close, so intimate.
Something about it made Leon go crazy, he can't say, but some strange feeling rose in his chest and made a knot form in the pit of his stomach.
What were you thinking? You were a lady, Jesus! You should behave like one.
"You are dismissed, return to your duties." Leon says to the other servants, leaving no room for questions.
Drastic situations call for drastic measures, only then will you be able to understand your place. And how you should act as a future queen.
Leon waited, right in the center of the main hall, he decided he would act as if he hadn't seen anything. He felt his breathing quicken, heard the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
He didn't know if it was anger, disappointment or something else.
You didn't realize he was there until you saw the pair of blue eyes looking you up and down, for some reason sending a shiver up your spine.
"I was worried about you." He was the first to speak, approaching you without a second thought.
"Excuse me, Your Highness. I needed some fresh air." You say, your voice smooth as silk, sweet as honey.
You needed to act as if nothing much had really happened, as if you hadn't gone off with the Duke alone, without letting anyone know.
Even more so, going out alone with a man.
Leon narrows his eyes, placing a hand on your waist, pulling you close. His touch made you gasp, your eyes widen and your breathing hitch, at the same moment you felt your breath mingle with his.
For a moment, you looked at each other, his penetrating gaze causing an incomparable flush to rise to your cheeks. His hands on your body, one holding your cheek, steadying you to do what he wanted to do.
What was he going to do? Oh, you realized it in the next second, when you saw his face coming closer to yours. His nose touching yours, and then, that's when…
He kissed you.
His lips against yours, his hand holding you firmly and preventing you from moving. It was unconscious, instinctive, you moved your lips in sync with his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you sealed this moment with the warm intimacy of a kiss.
It wasn't sincere, it was carnal.
The world around you seemed to stop, you were focused on the warm feeling that took over your body, the way the heat of the moment enveloped you. Your body molded itself to his so well, it was so perfect.
As if it was meant to be.
It was painful to separate your lips from his, your mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Was it real? Had he reconsidered? Maybe he was going to give you both a chance?
You were a very dreamy girl perhaps, those endless dreams that you wished from the bottom of your soul were real, that you clamored for to come true at some point.
But oh, that little act, it was far from a dream.
When you regained your senses, you looked around and saw a group of high-class ladies staring at the two of you. The dreamy looks and sighs they gave when they saw the couple, the passionate couple.
In the corner, you saw the king and queen, smiling approvingly at the two of you. They were proud.
A show off.
Reality weighed heavily on your mind when you understood. It was nothing, it was a show off, an exhibition. The momentary magic wore off and gave way to the bitterness that once again fell upon you.
Whose fault was it? Yours, for having once again believed in the foolishness that was Leon's chance of seeing you beyond being a prize. Or Leon, for toying with you in such a way?
In any case, what a shame. The taste of his lips was imprinted on yours, the sensation of his lips against yours was still so vivid. So real. You felt loved in a few seconds, putting yourself in your place soon after.
With one simple action, Leon reminded you of who you belong to, legally, and also reminded you of your place. Of your obligations to him, he came out the winner once again.
Damned bastard.
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